#(i think her speaker died or i told her to turn it down so she used headphones and ended up throwing up in th toilet and one of her earbuds
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grape and watermelon mikes hard and 6 bud lights heart shaped box,,,hggn…,
#j’s a bloody mess#or was it black cherry?? idk its been years ago#it was fucking good tho#keyword; was. until my mother decided to drink the last i FUCKING HAD. srsly she asked for one. oh well it has like what 2% alc? 4% most?#shes a lightweight but shell be fine#(she wasnt fine)#(i didnt deal with her. she blasted music so loud im shocked we didnt get a noise complaint)#(granted ppl arent that close to here but still. hard to explain. but if i can physically feel the music blaring from outside on a swing.#i think it might be a bit loud!)#(her bf ended up coming over to deal with her. no idea what happened afterwards bc i didnt care! still dont either!)#(oh yeah the heart shaped box thing is bc she sent in a gc with me and another friend that it was her “drunk song” still have the chat on m#old phone. oh god. that means it was like. extremly early 2020 or before. i was like. age 10 max. what the fuck.)#(i. just. wow! idk sorta shocked abt that for some reason. its also the reason i refuse to use her headphones)#(i think her speaker died or i told her to turn it down so she used headphones and ended up throwing up in th toilet and one of her earbuds#were in it)#i didnt know how to lore dump this onto instagram so here ig
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teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2
summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner
wc: ~800
A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴
prev. next
"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.
"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"
"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."
"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."
"You actually saw him in class?!?"
Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.
"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.
"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"
"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.
“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”
“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”
-
The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:
‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.
‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’
‘Freakishly quiet’.
‘Secretly joined a gang’.
That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.
Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.
As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.
Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.
When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.
You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.
“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”
Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.
“Yes, Mr. Morales?”
“May I please use the restroom?”
A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.
“Go ahead,” Jones relented.
The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.
“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”
Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.
“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”
“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.
“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.
Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.
You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.
“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.
Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.
Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.
"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.
You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"
"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."
" 'Think' about what?"
"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"
The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.
#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#moralesanhour
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SO, KISS ME
SYNOPSIS :: a drunk Warren somehow ends up in front of your dorm roon
NOTE :: made this while I was at work, got this inspo from an edit on tiktok !! btw, this is a gn! reader yeyyy
TYPE :: fluff / implied smut
A phone call snapped you from your focus on the computer, your fingers typing abruptly stopped. You took off your earphones and swiftly grabbed the phone from the other table.
“Yes, hello?” You pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder. While you focused back on your PC.
“Heeey, friend. Why you calling?” Although the owner of the voice slurred his words, it was booming loudly from the speaker that you had no choice but to wince.
You mouthed an, ‘Oh my God’ with a roll of your eyes.
“Helloooo, is that you my friend? My wizard friend, Dumblebee?” Again, the loudness of his voice remains the same.
“Fucking hell, Warren, you know that I'm grinding tonight!” You said with a huff, slowly losing focus from not just the loudness of his voice but his background with party songs.
“Oh, hi! Can, can you, uh, my broom is not working. So, please pick up.” An annoyed expression was now sitting comfortably on your face. Even from miles away you can imagine the harsh smell from the liqour.
“No, I'm not taking care of your drunk ass.” You huff by this time your character in the game already died, flashing red with a text saying ‘Game Over’. “Ugh, now, I'm dead.”
“What?! NO! You can't be dead!” He screams on his phone that makes you grimace and the phone slips from your shoulder and ears, letting it drop on the floor. From a short distance, you can faintly hear his voice.
“I swear to God, I'll kill you when I pick you up.” you muttered under your breath before picking up the phone from the floor. “Stay right where you are, I'll bring you home.”
Then, you ended the call. You grabbed the hoodie he left on your bed and put it on, secretly loving the way it fits perfectly on your body. You locked your dorm room and headed to the parking lot, with the keys jingling on your finger as you tucked your phone in your pockets.
As you were about to start the engine, a call buzzed through your phone. Warren's name appears on the called ID. “I told you I'm picking you up. Stay where you are.”
“Uh, hey, you must be Warren’s friend.” A feminine voice filled your ears as you turned the engine on.
“Yeah, who, who's this?” You stammered unintentionally, but somehow your voice breaks, either from embarrassment or uneasiness whether Warren is even present in the situation.
“This is Max, I, we, found Warren outside of the club.” Oh, she's the girl Warren's been talking about for a month. “We'll take him home.” She pauses since Warren's voice starts to interrupt her.
“Is that my Dumblebee?” You sighed.
“Alright, then, you guys take good care of him.” You fiddled with the keys and turned the engine off. The other caller ends it, then you finally let out a big sigh you've been keeping ever since you've heard Max's voice fill the car from Warren's phone. Does that mean they went to the party together? Or he finally invited her? Asked her out? Was that their first date?
“Fuuuuck!” You slammed the car door close, your hands finding warmth inside of the pocket of his hoodie. “Shouldn’t have called me if you already had someone taking care of you! Fucking…hell.”
You went back to your dorm with a grudge, slumping back down on your office chair. The game you were playing earlier was still on and how the light from the computers lights up your dimmed room. Playing this shitty game is the only thing that can stop your mind from thinking about whether Warren made it out alive and is safe. But of course, the more you play, the more time passes and your worry only gets worse. To the point you let your character get killed and the screen fades with a ‘Game Over’, and immediately grabs your phone that sits on top of your bed since you threw it away earlier.
“The least that girl could do was update me on whether Warren made it home safe.” You said under your breath, feeling irritated yet upset since you know you don't have the right to it, you were just his friend, not a partner. “But still! I can still get worried, God be damned.”
You input his number and it starts ringing and ringing, at first you thought there was something wrong with your speakers that it seems like it has an echo. “Wait, what the fuck?” The only difference was that the echo comes from a distance.
More likely from the other side of the door that you immediately connected the dots. You rush to your front door upon opening it, Warren's back was lying against your door upon opening his back smashes harshly against the floor that he let out grunts of pain.
“Fuck! Warren? What the, what are you?” Your questions that were running through your mind seemed to fade away when you saw the discomfort on his face. “Alright, wake up. Let's get you to my bed.”
Your arms wrapped around his waist as you used yourself as his crutch, stumbling down to your bed. You let go of his weight when you were near your bed, and you watched as his head hit the pillows that he made a sound from.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Warren?” You sighed, not even caring if he's going to answer since he doesn't look conscious.
“Mhm…” He lets out that it made you step closer.
“What did you say?”
“You promised to pick me up.” He said in the most childish tone, like a kid that didn't get a gift from their birthday.
“Well, I'm sorry, your highness.” You said sarcastically while you rolled your eyes. “I would have if not for your little girlfriend.”
“Max is my friend.” You couldn't help but make an annoyed face, as you walked away from him and went to close the door.
“And I'm your friend, there's an obvious difference between how you treat me and her.” You whispered.
“I heard that.” How the fuck?!
“Now, aren't you a superhero with a lame power? Tell me, do you hear the birds chirping too?” You bite back, even yourself was surprised to have a petty fight with a drunkard.
He tries to sit up but fails miserably, as it seems the bed was swallowing him up. “Can you please come here? I really can't feel my legs.”
“Mhn, are you sobering up?” He didn't answer, instead opening his arms and legs wide like a starfish. “Nope, still drunk as fuck.”
“I missed you, we didn't see each other for like,” He pauses with a confused expression planted on his face. “For like, uh, four days?”
“It was just two days, Warren. Two. Days.” You emphasized the last two words, and turned to your heels walking towards your small kitchen counter. Brewing hot water on an electric kettle.
“I missed playing with you, studying with you, watching with you, reading your stories.” He says in his starfish position, still. Although, he didn't say he missed you but you were glad enough that he missed doing things with you.
“Me too.” A short reply that led him to keep talking that you almost zoned out.
“So yeah, that's how I got stuck at the party. Can you believe it?! Those fuckers! Now, I have to buy new tires.” He exclaimed, your bed was already a mess since one of your pillows was on the floor and your comforter was touching the floor.
“Don’t worry we'll get your car fixed. I know a vulcanizing shop, we can get a new tire.” The shriek of the kettle began and he screamed. Literally, screamed.
“What was that?!”
“Calm your tits, I'm preparing you some tea.” You pulled the plug and prepared a blue mug, his mug, which is a mug that he alone only uses. You filled the mug and dropped a tea bag on it.
“Mhm, tea. I like it with milk.”
“With milk, I know.” The both of you said in unison.
You could hear him thrash around your bed as there were shuffling and whining coming from him. He gets so fussy when he's drunk.
“Is it done?” He asks, his head resting against his hand as he turns his body to look at you from the kitchen counter. “You look good in my hoodie.”
Realization hits hard when you remembered you didn't take it off after you came back, as your blush appears quickly on your cheeks and feel its heat travel to your ears and down to your spine that makes your ears ring. “It was cold and your hoodie was the only thing I have right now.” You said quietly, thank fucking hell your back was on him because he can easily see the redness of your cheeks. But you didn't notice that he already got up from your bed.
“Mhm, should I just give you all of my clothes? You seemed to look better on them than on me.” He whispered beside you, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Shit! Warren! When did you get there? I thought you couldn't feel your legs!” It was too late, he already saw your face. So instead, you wrapped your hand on the handle of the mug and pushed it gently to him. “Get yourself sober and I'll take you home.”
You walked away, almost running from him. As your eyes darted around the room, you plopped down on your swivel chair. Though, you can hear him take some sips of his tea and hear a hiss from burning his tongue. “Are you making fun of me?”
You couldn't help but giggle at him, “Sorry, sorry, you sounded like an idiot.”
“Nuh uh, my GPA is higher than yours. Therefore, your argument deems to be irrelevant.” You can hear him start to walk, but not near you. He settled down on your bed once again. “I can see you rolling your eyes.”
“Whatever, finish your tea… you're crazy for ending up here” You mulled over the thought of it and couldn't help but ask him. “Why were you even here in the first place?”
“You said you'll pick me up.” He repeated his answer from the same previous question you asked him. “I told them to drop me here. So you'll get to take me home.”
You noticed he hasn't slurred his speech so much, maybe since the conversation went on and on it made him sober enough.
“You’re an idiot, you really are. It's just, sometimes I don't even get you. We've been friends for a while. I mean, maybe for a while, but you're hard to read. And the stupid comments you're making earlier, you make it sound like I stole your clothes.” Your frustration from earlier was already filling you up that you didn't notice he set the half empty mug in your nightstand and walked towards you.
Warren saw how your shoulder blades motion as your hands waves around while you're explaining, but when you get like this you always turn your back on him. He hates it the most, when you finally say your true feelings to him but you're talking to air instead of facing him. He wants to see your face, your expressions, that cute crunch that forms between your eyebrows, or how you bite your lower lip when you hesitate but in the end spills whatever you're thinking anyway. He couldn't read you the way he wanted to, and so he approached you, placing a firm hand on your swivel chair and turned you around.
“Do you want me to stay or not?” His voice was soft but his expression was stoic. The drunkenness he felt earlier dissipates, he could clearly see your face and your mouth formed an ‘o’. Then, once again the blood on your body travels back to your cheeks staining it with red.
You were like a gaping fish when you met him face to face, trapping you on the chair as his hands held on the armrest. “Well?” He urges on. “Does your silence means ‘yes’?”
Thoughts were rushing through your mind, what the fuck is he exactly insinuating?! First, he goes to that fucking drive-in with a girl. The next he hangs out with Brooke. Now, he's trapping you in this chair with no idea why the fuck is he even upset! If anyone is upset, it should be you!
“I just thought Max will take you home, how was I supposed to know you'll get this childish?!” You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning your back to the chair. “There are already a lot of people taking care of you, why should I include myself in? We're just friends.”
His shoulders slacken. “Then, fine. I'll get going, then.” He grunted, pulling himself away from you. Swaying from side to side as if his drunkenness came back. “Poor me, alone and drunk , I hope I won't run into some muggers.”
You sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Just pray that I won't kill you tonight. At least, get sober before we head out because I'm not dragging your sleepy ass when you pass out.”
“Okie dokie! Don't worry, I'm all sober now.” He responds with a smile on his face before launching himself on your bed.
“But you just said you're drunk?!” You threw your hands up in frustration.
“Did I say that? Oh, well.” His jolly attitude continues as he hugs your pillow and comforter. Is he actually faking his sobriety right now?
You got up from your chair and walked to him, “Alright, stop lounging around and let's get going”
He was quiet for a second but he didn't get off the bed, “I’m sorry for earlier, Chloe told me those lines usually work.” Instead he was busying himself with fiddling the stitching of your pillows.
“It’s fine.” You sighed, stood in front of him and he started to look at you with that gaze. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘usually work’?”
Warren looks at you straight in the eyes, the type of stare that pulls you in as if there was a whole constellation inside his irises. He eventually looked away, pushing himself up from your bed until he was standing in front of you, his shadow created by the low light of the lamp covering you.
“What?” You ask, realizing how dumb you sound, like a deer in headlights.
“You really are naïve, as Chloe said.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. I'm gonna get going.” He turned his back on you and headed to your door. Of course, you followed after him. When he opened the door, he stepped out in the doorframe, making the door remained open since he was still standing on its way, not budging.
“Now, what?” You asked, your phone in your pocket buzzing. “Wait, let me get this first.”
As you were about to pull out your phone, he asked you. “Truth or dare?”
“The fuck are you talking about.” You brows furrowed, confusion written all over you that you start to look like a question mark.
“Truth or dare? If you don't answer or do the dare, you'll do my homework for a month.” He repeated, his hands fidgeting to the point he started to scratch his nape. “Come on, don't make me look like an idiot.”
“You already are, dumbass. And it's dare, but make sure I don't get into trouble.” You took your phone and saw the caller ID and declined the call.
“Kissmerightnow.” He says, although his words came out too fast. But you weren't an idiot to not understand it. Then, his cheeks blushed with red as dark as cherries.
You were speechless to say the least, by how he's acting now made you believe for a second he's actually serious. But you know better that there's no way, surely he's just pulling a joke that Chloe, maybe, taught him.
So, you took his hand and planted a ghost kiss. Your lips barely brushed against his knuckles, but he could feel your hot breath that made his blush even darker and you noticed the twitch of his hand.
“There, asshole. Are you happy now? Let's get going.” You say but you were as flushed as him.
“Now, you ask me.” He pouts like a fucking child, you don't know whether you can stop yourself from pinching his cheek if he doesn't stop this cuteness.
“Fuuuck! Fine! Truth or dare?” You impatiently said, your hands resting on your hips.
“Dare.” You laughed at how determined he looks.
“Then, kiss me on the lips.” You say with a smug grin on your face.
He looked at you, again with that fucking stare, “Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious, unless you want to ace all of my homeworks this month—”
You didn't finish your sentence because his own lips shut you up, his hands on your plump, red cheeks. His soft lips brush against yours, his eyes are scrunched close while his ear turns red that's similar to the color of his cheeks.
Your arms were limped on your sides, as you felt his body heat wrapped around you. You didn't realized that you were kissing him back, but he made a squeak when he felt your tongue glide on his lower lip. He patted your shoulder, stopping the kiss and took deep breaths that you kept while the two of you basked in each other's kisses.
The both of you were silent, but finally, you finally understood the look he gave you too many times. He was hitting on you in the first place, you were just too dumb to notice. Your eyes finally understood him, as well as he understands you.
The silence was deafening which is why you pulled him to you by his collar and closed the door behind you. Wishing no one saw the both of you making out in the hallway.
Although, a certain brunette with blue hair peered at the window.
“I really thought he'd chicken out, man. I mean, he was begging us to pick him home instead.” The blue haired bragged. “And in the end he makes us stop by at their dormitory. That guy is so fucking in love with them.”
“I know, but I guess we did a great job making him drunk first, huh?” Max says, though she wasn't really up to the challenge. She thought there was a better way to confess instead of drinking a lot of liquor to muster up Warren's courage. “Let's just not mention the fact that we put holes in his tires.”
“I doubt he'll get angry, I'm sureeeee he's enjoying a lot tonight.” She said with a grin, and Max just laughed and pulled her by the hand away from the window.
#life is strange#life is strange game#life is strange head cannon#life is strange imagines#life is strange fanfiction#life is strange fanfic#warren graham#lis warren graham#warren graham lis#warren graham imagines#warren graham fanfiction#warren graham fanfic#warren graham x reader#warren graham x g!neutral reader#x reader#headcanon#fanfiction#fanfic#imagines#warren graham head cannon
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ao3
Dustin gives Eddie ownership of the walkie. At some point, an agreement must have been made for Lucas and Max to stop talking on their channel, but Eddie isn’t aware of any such conversation having taken place. It feels like he has tunnel vision, the whole world narrowing down to the room, to the bed in the centre of it. To Steve.
He changes frequencies constantly on the walkie, gritting his teeth against the static. Steve’s voice never comes through again, and his face is back to being eerily still, no expression. Blank. It’s an unwelcome reminder of Dustin’s past words: He looks... gone.
Dustin leaves him alone late afternoon, saying he’ll ask Nancy to get in touch with Mike again, get an update on whoever this El is, her whereabouts. Eddie nods distractedly as he goes.
He tries to keep playing the song, but the harshness of the static sets him on edge. His fingers can only push weakly against the guitar strings, the shittiest attempt at a chord position that he’s ever seen; and soon his hands are shaking too badly to even press the button on the casette player. Fucking pathetic.
All at once, the static disappears. Eddie looks up at the absence of it, to find that Robin has turned the walkie off.
She stares at him.
“What?” Eddie says, voice hoarse.
She doesn’t reply. Instead, she kneels down in front of him, a mirror image of Dustin. Painstakingly slow, she reaches out with one hand, as if expecting him to flinch; and Eddie thinks of himself in the boathouse, clutching onto that damned glass bottle like a lifeline, how he felt one touch away from losing it completely.
This time, he’s able to catch his breath. Holds it. Breathes out. When Robin begins to uncurl his fingers from the neck of the guitar, he lets her without resistance. Then she carefully takes the full weight of the guitar from him, sets it aside.
“Look,” she says and nods at the heart monitor. Eddie follows her direction. He watches for a moment, then closes his eyes, listens to the slow, steady record of Steve’s pulse; and his breathing gradually follows the rhythm of each heartbeat.
When he opens his eyes, Robin is smiling at him.
“He’s still there,” she says. “He’s not gonna disappear if you take a break.”
A part of him wants to argue, wants to grab the guitar back and scream at her, no matter how cruel that might be. Chrissy, Patrick, Steve—they all died right in front of me, and I did nothing. Now I’ve got the chance to do something, save someone, and I can’t because, what, I’m fucking tired? I need to get a grip. But a larger part of him knows that he’s useless to Steve like this.
So he blows out a long, slow breath. Raises his eyes to the ceiling. Gives a tiny, reluctant nod.
Robin pulls up a chair next to him in response, then says, apropos of nothing, “I haven’t filled you in on the full Starcourt Experience.”
Eddie tears his gaze away from Steve to blink at her in confusion. “Uh, no? Pretty sure you have, Buckley.”
She’d told Eddie about her summer at the mall while they were all travelling to the War Zone, a jaw-dropping tale that had Eddie looking around at the crew anew, with a far from infrequent thought: Oh, great, I’m the only normal one here.
Robin shifts so that she’s sitting side-on, leans back and hooks her feet over Eddie’s knees. There’s something both casual and sincere in the gesture, like they’ve been friends for years; Eddie doesn’t know if he’s worthy of it, yet Robin keeps smiling like he is.
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you the really important stuff,” she says, tilting her head forward like they’re gossiping in class.
And… she talks.
She talks and talks and talks, gesturing wildly with her hands, and gives Eddie a rundown of what can only be described as ‘Steve’s greatest hits at Scoops Ahoy.’
There’s the time when, near delirious after a long weekend shift, Steve had started singing along to Material Girl as it blared over the mall speakers—and, when Robin made a show of announcing her presence, sure that he’d stop and pretend it never happened, he’d just kept going, adding stupid choreography as he mopped.
All the times when he would give customers the bitchiest dead-eyed stare if they tried to enter the store before it had opened; when Robin would have to duck into the back so no-one saw her laughing.
Robin barely pauses to draw breath, so that the countless stories crowd Eddie’s head, leaving, for once, little room for worrying; and she must see that something within him has settled, if only for now, because she doesn’t stop him when he eventually picks up the guitar again.
He doesn’t sing, just plays the melody as Robin keeps talking. She paints such a vivid picture that Eddie doesn’t want to interrupt, almost feels like he can see the ice-cream parlour despite never having set foot inside it—this unexpected haven within a neon monstrosity. Sees Robin catching Steve singing, sees her dubiousness melt away as he dances, using the mop as a prop.
Eddie keeps strumming as Robin goes on, laughing quietly as she mimes Steve’s idiosyncrasies: running his fingers through his hair, how he’d open the drawer of money at the register with a little drumbeat, the secret eye roll he’d give Robin before having to serve someone particularly difficult.
One such anecdote is being shared, where the punchline is Steve finally snapping that, “This is Scoops Ahoy, ma’am, we can’t work miracles,” and both Robin and Eddie are giggling, despite—or perhaps because of everything; and Eddie looks up at just the right moment, because he—he sees—
Steve’s finger twitching.
It’s the first sign of life in hours.
Robin beams, gingerly prods the finger back. “’Bout time you showed up, dingus.”
Eddie feels a sudden sting in his eyes. He has to bite his lip to keep it together, to move on to the chorus without stopping.
Still, something must show on his face, because when Robin glances at him, she says, “Oh, Eddie,” with a gentle kindness he can’t help but feel he doesn’t deserve. But you’ve known him longer. I’ve got no right to…
When the song is over, Robin carefully pries the guitar from him again, and somewhere along the way, Eddie finds that they’re holding hands. They don’t let go for a long time.
-
Eddie tries to return the walkie to Dustin, but he doesn’t tune back in to his usual channel, doesn’t even turn it on. Instead he takes the seat that had been Robin’s, tilts his head back, eyes ever so slightly unfocused. Eddie recognises the look from Hellfire, whenever Dustin needed to think deeply about his character’s next move—and it feels like such a strange thing to remember now, as if from another world entirely. Eddie supposes that’s true.
“I’m still mad at you,” Dustin says suddenly.
Eddie nods, half to himself—Dustin looks away. Guilt sits sour in his stomach; the sound of Dustin’s desperate screams as he drove away has never once left him.
“That’s… that’s fair,” he says, quiet. He moves forward a little in his seat, knocking his foot gently against Dustin’s. “I’m… shit, Dustin, I know I keep saying it, but I’m so sorry.”
It still feels like it’s useless to say, but it’s honest, at least. There are a number of times where Wayne has decided to shield him from certain things over the years; and though Eddie had understood why, that had never stopped him from feeling bitter about it. Cheated.
“I’m mad at both of you,” Dustin clarifies. His eyes dart over to Steve then away again, as if he’s already beating himself up for even thinking it. He pushes back against Eddie’s foot until the sole of his sneaker is pressing against Eddie’s, then draws his own foot back, as if suddenly out of energy.
When Dustin finally looks at him, Eddie offers an apologetic smile. “He…” He glances over at Steve before meeting Dustin’s gaze again. “He made me promise,” he says weakly.
Dustin sighs; it’s resigned, world-weary. “Yeah, I figured.” When he speaks again, his voice sounds strained, rising almost like he’s asking a question. “I think I knew? Like, before all of…” This time, he knocks Eddie’s foot first. “It’s not exactly… he has a sorta… track record, I mean.”
Eddie sighs, too. “Yeah man, I figured,” he echoes.
“He made everything… God, I don’t know. He made it,” and Dustin gestures vaguely with his hands, “he made it easy. Easy to, like, laugh about or… Not forget the danger, that’s… I just… It was weird, after the mall, the rest of the summer…”
Dustin trails off again, and Eddie tries to fill in the blanks as best he can.
“We didn’t really talk about it,” Dustin continues. “He came to pick me up from Mike’s one day, and his face was still, uh, not great, but he just made this super corny joke about—ugh, I can’t even remember but, Eddie, it was so embarrassing, I know that for sure—”
But the wobble in Dustin’s voice tells a different story.
“And he… he was singing along to the radio, and I—I just thought that I didn’t want him to—to save us, or be badass or cool or whatever the fuck he’s still hung up about from high school, I just—wanted him to be there.”
I know, Eddie thinks, because he does; because it’s so clear now, how much of a big deal Steve is to Dustin, and Eddie kind of wants to smack his past self who sneered when Steve graduated and he didn’t, and thought bet King Steve still thinks he’s hot shit.
He reaches forward and squeezes Dustin’s knee. “We’ll get him back.”
Dustin nods and scrubs briefly at his eyes. “I think I thought I could stop it,” he says. “If I just—if I stayed with…”
Eddie shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have let you,” he finds himself saying again. It’s obvious that Steve would have rather died than let anything happen to Dustin. Eddie can hardly fault him for that.
“Yeah,” Dustin says, and he laughs a little. He sounds tired. “I know.”
-
It’s about 9pm when Dustin says it, watching from the window for a sight of his mom’s car turning into the hospital parking lot. “Um, Eddie? I need you to just—check I’m not hallucinating or something.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Shit.” Dustin waves his arms frantically, shaking his head. “Not like that! Just—” He taps at the window. “This guy looked really like Hopper.”
Like, died in the ‘mall fire’ Chief Hopper? Eddie thinks, still not quite recovered from the scare. He goes to the window, follows the direction in which Dustin is pointing. “What the fuck.”
-
The girl looks about Dustin’s age. Her hair is cut very short, and when they are left alone in Steve’s hospital room, she looks at Eddie intensely.
“You are Eddie Munson,” she says with a calming certainty.
Eddie nods, but he thinks he would have gone along with it no matter what she had said; she could have told him he was Jack the Ripper reincarnated with the same confidence and he would’ve said, Well, shit, if you say so.
“My name is El,” she adds simply. “I’m here to help.”
Eddie stares at her. Some of Steve’s words come back to him, when he was eating fucking cereal and trying to pretend like he had even a bit of control over whatever his life even was now.
“What, like a superhero?”
And the kid beams. “Exactly.”
-
Dustin has left Eddie the walkie again, and El turns it on so the static is loud.
“You think you can… find him?” Eddie says.
“Yes,” El says. Again, it sounds like it’s a breeze the way she says it, like it’s nothing. “Henry is dead. I tried to…” She bites her lip; it’s only now that she appears to falter. “ I tried to bring Steve back but I—I’m sorry. I was… tired.”
Eddie privately thinks she’s gone to the Steve Harrington School of Downplaying.
“Jesus, his pulse,” he whispers. “That was you?”
El nods. “I tried to—it was all I could—”
“Fucking Christ—sorry,” Eddie says, bites back more curses, more prayers. “Thank you.”
She smiles—and God, she’s just a girl, Eddie thinks, why was this—why was any of it—thrust upon her?
El places a scarf over her eyes like a blindfold without explanation. The static from the radio gets even louder.
And they wait.
“He’s not in The Upside Down,” El says. “It’s like…” She stretches out both arms, lays one hand flat. Then, she puts her other hand slightly underneath the first. “The Upside Down is the floor. We’re here.” She wiggles the fingers of the highest hand. “And Steve is here.” She wiggles the hand that’s slightly below the other. “He’s stuck.” El’s nose scrunches. “Like going halfway through a Gate.”
Eddie plays My Little Town via the tape while they keep waiting. The song competes with the noise from the walkie.
The Gate comparison leads to El telling him that The Upside Down is slowly becoming sealed off from Hawkins after Henry’s death. Eddie thinks of Wayne seemingly not noticing the gaping split in the world at the trailer, thinks suddenly of an English class, of ‘Not with a bang but a whimper,’—and wonders if that is how the world is saved, too.
Then El stiffens. “Steve?”
Eddie holds his breath. An explosion of static, but it somehow, just for a second, sounds joyful.
El smiles. “Hi. I’m okay. Are you…?”
She goes quiet for a long moment. Her smile fades, but Eddie is relieved to find not a trace of fear on her face.
“He says that he’s… sorry,” she says slowly. “For being… slow?”
“Oh my god, Steve, shut the fuck up with your fucking apologies,” Eddie says without thinking.
El giggles. “I don’t think I should tell him that.” There’s a pause, and she giggles again. “He says that he can guess what you said.”
The tape has moved on to the next song, so Eddie hurriedly makes to wind it back. El stops him.
“Steve says that this is better,” she says. She briefly mimes strumming a guitar. “He can tell that it’s you. It makes a… clearer path for him to follow.”
In his haste to play the guitar, Eddie fumbles the opening notes completely; he swears that he can hear the static shift into something that resembles a far-off laugh.
-
“He’s saying sorry again,” El says, once Eddie has finished singing. “He’s tired.”
“That’s…” Eddie swallows. “Tell him that’s okay. Please.”
She does. Then she asks for the time.
Eddie glances at the clock on the wall. “Nearly ten.”
“Steve’s asking if you can try again,” El says, “in an hour.”
“Yeah, ’course I will,” Eddie says, and his heart twists a bit at the thought that Steve must have phrased it like a question rather than a certainty.
“Goodbye, Steve,” El says softly. “You’re almost home.”
As she removes the scarf, Eddie is alarmed to discover that her nose is bleeding.
“Shit, kid, you okay? Should I call for—?”
But she shakes her head. “It just happens, it’s all right.” She rubs at her temples for a bit, and says, “Sorry, I had to stop. I was getting tired, too.”
“You’re good, just—take it easy,” Eddie insists, still watching with concern as she wipes her nose with her scarf.
“I’m really okay,” El says. “Compared to everything else, finding Steve was…” She pauses, then enunciates carefully: “Easy as shit.”
She says it like she’s only ever heard it in a movie, like she’s trying it on for size.
Eddie decides right then and there that he adores her.
-
“I like your hair,” El says suddenly. Eddie had got her a drink from the vending machine, worried that she’d keel over or something as soon as he looked away. “It’s very pretty.”
Eddie smiles. “Thanks.”
“My hair used to be long.” There’s a melancholy tinge to her words that has Eddie listening intently. “I think longer than yours? But I don’t know.” And she grins, small but genuine. “Maybe I would have won.”
“This took me years,” Eddie says and he goes ham on the delivery to make her laugh, tosses back his head dramatically. “I bet you could beat me again, in a few months.”
El beams. Then she pauses, grows serious. “I recognised you,” she says slowly, “from Steve’s… when he was running. He had to—to hide in memories, and—”
“Hey, hey, stop,” Eddie says quickly, but he keeps his voice gentle. Because no matter how much he’s burning to know, he can only think of what he’d want if the situation were reversed and…
“That’s in Steve’s head, okay? That… that should be just for him.”
El nods with a heaviness that suggests she more than understands.
-
Eddie is pushing his luck, he knows it. It’s already past 11, and he’s sung through the song twice, with hardly a break; this time there was minimal change on Steve’s heart monitor.
Now he’s playing the guitar as quietly as possible to avoid reproach.
“Hey, Harrington,” he says mid-strum, makes his voice go low and teasing like they’re still at school together, like they’ve just caught each other’s eyes in the cafeteria. “Wanna know a secret?”
For a moment, he tries to imagine Steve smirking back, rolling his eyes maybe… but then he realises that he doesn’t know how Steve would react, not really. He didn’t even get the chance to process Steve’s response to “Harrington’s got her, dontcha big boy?”—a stupid aside, but at the time he couldn’t help himself; he felt giddy, still almost certain that they were careening towards disaster, but that they might as well have some fun along the way.
I want more time. I want to know you more, Steve Harrington.
“I saw you once, after Hellfire,” Eddie murmurs. “Never said. I was in my van. You were picking up Henderson, and…” He sighs, leans closer, watches the rise and fall of Steve’s chest. “I was waiting for it, you know? Waiting for you to roll your eyes and act all put upon. I’ve seen what it’s like when folks are… tolerated, right?” He goes quiet for a few bars of music, thoughtful. “But that never happened. Couldn’t hear whatever the hell it was you were saying, but Henderson was talking your ear off and you were smiling, and—Christ, man, all I could think was he must really love this kid.” Eddie laughs in self-deprecation. “Didn’t really know what to do with it, honestly. Kinda pretended to forget about it. Didn’t want the fucking ‘Munson Doctrine’ to be bullshit just yet, I guess.”
He finishes the song without saying anything more; his hand falls on the bed and he stifles a yawn, then starts when he feels…
Steve’s finger tapping on the back of his hand. Slow, deliberate. Almost as if he’d be drumming his fingers if he could. Eddie searches, but Steve’s face is placid.
“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, huh, Harrington?”
He doesn’t want to pull away from Steve’s touch, so he puts the guitar down and sings without it. Keeps his voice quiet but steady. Just for Steve.
And just as he reaches, “In my little town, I never meant nothing, I was just my father’s son,” he hears it.
Steve’s heart rate is picking up.
“Oh, God,” Eddie says, torn between gripping Steve’s hand and calling for help. “Steve, it’s okay, you’re—”
And then he stops.
Because Steve’s eyes are opening, fatigued but lucid; and Eddie can catch a tiny smile beneath his mask.
And Eddie feels Steve’s finger move, tracing a pattern across his palm. He laughs through an abrupt sob when he realises what it is.
Letters.
Hi.
#steddie#steddie fic#the self sacrificial steve agenda#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#robin buckley#dustin henderson#el hopper#eddie and el#steve and el#steve and robin
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Echoes of the Unknown
You and Emily wonder about the next steps after dealing with your human body. One close call helps you discover a very useful ability.
Warnings: handling your dead body, some angsty things, Amanda being regretful, hitting your head, and cursing.
(Author note: There are not a lot of good gifs with vehicons)
Chapter 4
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The night went easy with Emily by your side. You were now more glad than ever that you decided to reveal yourself to her. It felt much better to have someone you trusted to keep you company and help you decide what to do next.
Together you decided to leave your human body to be found by the rescue patrol since it would make no sense for you to keep it. You left your body nearly at the same place in the mountains while Emily convinced them to look there once more. The plan worked and you watched how the rescue patrol pulled your human body out of the cave, packed in one of those body bags and Emily made a show by crying at the sight of your body.
It felt weird and sad in a way to watch your own body get taken away. It made you wonder how your family would react when they heard that you had died from a freak accident in the camp they so trusted. You imagined the sadness in their eyes. You were not certain but surely they would feel devastated by your death. They weren’t that heartless.
Emily had to stay in the camp for some time and then on the next day, a mourning ceremony was held, where the camp headmaster kept up a speech about your tragic passing, talked about the dangers of going into the mountains and how the hiking trail that passed the mountains was officially shut down to avoid such incidents in the future. They had speakers so you were able to hear what the headmaster was saying while hiding near the woods. For the first time in years, you paid attention to his words, mostly because it was you who was dead and to see how the people would react.
After the ceremony, Emily finally came to you. She told the others that she needed time alone and they respected that since you two were known to stay together through stick and stone. You two then walked back to the barn to think about your future since there was no way for you to turn back to normal with your human body now gone.
The rays of sunlight came through the cracks between the barn wall. You were seated on the ground, leaning against the wall while Emily was sitting on the hay piles. You were trying to figure out what to do after the summer camp.
“You know my dad has a summer cabin that he doesn’t use very often. It’s away from nearby towns and has a barn that should be able to house you,” Emily said. “It should work as a perfect hiding place for you,”
“Okay… but would your dad be alright with us using it?” you asked.
“It will be fine. He had been letting me use it whenever I invited friends over. I’m sure he will let me use it for private time since I’m still working on what I want to do after the summer,” she explained.
“Okay… I guess we can use that then,” you said.
“Great. You know, this is like us becoming roommates,” Emily grinned.
“Well, it's not like I can go home after becoming this,” you looked down on yourself.
“But Em, thanks again. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t told you,” you looked at her with gratefulness.
“It’s fine. Robot or not, you’re still my best friend. I will always be here for whatever you need me,” Emily smiled assuringly.
Your chest felt warm. You nearly didn’t feel like you deserved her kindness.
An important detail then crossed your mind.
“How are we gonna get to your hometown without anyone seeing me? Jasper is hours away from here, “ you asked, crossing your arms.
“Oh, yeah. I haven’t thought about that,” Emily said thoughtfully.
“Emily!”
You two froze when you heard the voice from outside. Someone was here.
“Emily, are you here?!” the voice called out again. You two recognized it as Amanda’s voice.
“What is she doing here?” you whispered.
“I don’t know, but you need to hide!” Emily answered as she got up.
“Where?!” you panicked slightly.
“Somewhere. I will stall her,” she said as she walked through the small door of the barn. You panicked and looked around for a hiding place.
“Amanda! What are you doing here?” Emily exclaimed as she shut the door behind her and stared at the girl in front of her.
“Hey, Em. I just wanted to talk to you for a moment. Is this a bad time?” Amanda asked.
“It kinda is, but if it's something urgent then go ahead,” Emily replied.
“Okay… it’s just. I wanted to apologize for what happened to (Name),” Amanda started. “If I had not gone to the mountains and got you two involved, then maybe she wound’t have fallen and lost her life,” she said. “I know how close you two were and I feel awful for what happened,” she added with regret in her voice.
Emily looked at her softly.
“It’s okay Amanda. It was an awful accident and we should have used our heads. We couldn’t have known the mountain would start shaking all of a sudden when we were inside,” she explained.
“Yeah, but even I should have known better, and now (Name) is dead,” Amanda looked down at the grass.
Something crashed within the barn. You panicked as you tried hiding in a corner but accidentally knocked a few tools off the wall.
“What was that?” Amanda questioned as the two stared at the barn.
“It— was probably one of the tools that fell from the walls. The nails must have failed. This is a very old place after all,” Emily explained. “Me and (Name) came here often when we needed some alone time,” she added.
“Oh…” Amanda said, suspicion vanishing from her tone.
You uncornered yourself as it was not working, but then you banged your head against the floor above.
“Fuck!” you cursed, but quickly slapped your hands against your mouth.
Emily froze when they both heard the loud noise.
“Okay, what is actually going on there?” Amanda said as she began approaching the barn door.
“No, no, no, don’t go in! It’s a secret!” Emily stopped her.
“Well, now I need to see what you are hiding there,” Amanda crossed her arms.
You panic when you hear them get closer. You looked around frantically, desperate to find a hiding place. However, there was no hiding place for a giant robot. You tried to use your head, but when you heard Amanda grab the door handle you freaked out. Hide! Hide! Hide!
Something within you then clicked, and suddenly you felt your body move by itself.
Amanda opened the barn door. Emily looked over in panic but then her eyes were filled with confusion when she saw a rather modern purple car standing inside the barn instead of you.
“Wow. Why is there a car here?” Amanda questioned as she walked around the car, taking in all the details.
Emily looked around, then realized the purple car must be you. She looked at Amanda and then came up with an explanation.
“Well… Amanda. This is well… was… a surprise gift for me from my folks,” Emily spoke.
“A surprise gift? Why would your gift be here?” Amanda frowned, then opened the door, looking inside the car.
“Well… my folks were supposed to drop it at the end of summer, but there were some complications and they decided to leave it here so I could drive back home myself. Mr. Robin knows all about it and agreed to the arrangement to keep it here,” Emily explained.
“Okay… What brand is this? I've never seen a mark like this before,” Amanda questioned as she traced the mark on the wheel with her fingers.
“A custom-made! I wanted to try something unusual,” Emily quickly excused.
“Well, that sounds like something you would do,” Amanda said as she closed the door.
“I didn’t know you already got your driver’s license,” she said.
“Oh, I finished my driving school a long time ago. You know, having a family with many car nerds has its perks. I was already driving when I was ten,” Emily explained. “I was waiting for an opportunity to have my own car, and here she is,” she stroked the hood of the car.
“Well… she is pretty,” Amanda nodded.
“I was kinda hoping to drive for the first time with (Name), but then… you know,” Emily glanced at the car. “Now that she’s gone… it’s pretty lonely without her,” she mumbled.
“I believe you… anyway, sorry for bugging in,” Amanda said.
“It’s okay. It’s fine for you to know. But don’t tell anyone. I want to keep this as a surprise and see the reaction when I leave with this darling,” Emily grinned, patting the car.
“Okay. I keep my mouth shut,” Amanda nodded.
“Thank you, Amanda,” Emily smiled.
Amanda smiled in return. “I will leave you on your own then,” she said, walking toward the barn door.
“Do that and… Don’t feel guilty about what happened with (Name). It was an accident and she would not have held a grudge over it,” Emily explained.
“Really? I assumed she never liked me,” Amanda said.
“She was a silent type and picky about people. But trust me, she never thought ill of you,” Emily comforted.
“That’s good to hear,” Amanda smiled.
“Alright… I’m gonna go now. If you feel like you need someone to talk to— you can come to me, Em,” she said.
“Thanks, Amanda,” Emily smiled as Amanda then opened the barn door and walked outside.
Emily watched her leave and after Amanda was at a safe distance she closed the barn door and turned toward you.
“(Name)? Is that you?” she stared at the car. You then suddenly changed back into your robot form, causing Emily to yelp and fall on her bottom. You two stared at each other in shocked silence.
“Dude! That’s so cool! You can turn into a car!” Emily exclaimed, getting up with excitement in her eyes.
“Apparently yes… I don’t know what I even did. One moment I was panicking, and then I did something like this,” You explained trying to do the click and succeeding, turning into the car before back into a robot.
“Way to go with the lie, Em,” you complimented, even though you still felt a bit flustered from the touching and complimenting.
“(Name), you know what this means? “ Emily looked at you with a smile. “We have now a way to get you to Jasper without anyone knowing you are a robot,” she explained.
“You are right. But if I can turn into a car, then does that mean all those other robots can turn into cars as well?” you questioned.
“Oh shit! Does that mean we have literal alien robots living among us?” Emily asked, thinking about it.
“Well, whatever it is. I’m not exactly excited to meet them soon,” you stated.
“Then let’s focus on the plan. Once the summer camp is done. We go to Jasper. You just need to learn how to drive us there,” Emily said.
“Fine by me. You know, I never imagined learning to drive as the car itself,” You remarked, thinking how to do it.
“You will be fine,” Emily patted your knee. “It can’t be that difficult. Oh, what kind of other things can you turn into?” she asked.
“I think I can only turn into a car at the moment,” you frowned.
“But wound’t it be so cool if you could turn into a jet or a truck? Or maybe you could turn into one of those race cars!”
“Let’s think about that later. I need to worry about when to come outside to learn. I think I can do it during nighttime,” you stopped her from getting overly excited.
“Great, then we have a plan. I make sure no one comes here during the summer and you will learn how to drive as a car,” Emily stated. “Then we’ll drive to Jasper! Oh, this is going to be so exciting!” she exclaimed.
You nodded, even though your mind was bothered by what other kinds of robots lurked as everyday vehicles. You can only hope the summer will go smoothly without further issues.
#transformers x reader#transformers prime x reader#tfp x reader#transformers prime#tfp#x cybertronian reader#echoes of the unknown#various x reader#oc x reader
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Just because you're a Harkness doesn't mean you're evil
type:fluff with a bit of sadness
Hello everyone this is my first fanfictions, it will be Stephen × Y/n, I apologize already for my english,because I'm not a native speaker and nothing I hope you like it
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You are a Harkness, to be precise the daughter of Aghata Harkness, and you have been on the blacklist for people since birth.
You are her second child, Y/n Harkness, you are 27 years old, and your relationship with your mother has its ups and downs, it is not stable at all, but lately it has gone even worse, she has started to hate you and you think it is because you were becoming stronger than her, yes you had the same power but you had perfected it more than her.
But during an argument you attacked her out of nervousness and she took most of your power, but as soon as she took it, your purple disappeared but at least you were alive.
You ran away from home, without your power you felt like a fool, your power was everything, you got in your car and that's what you thought was "I have to look for some magical monasteries or shrines"
So you started the machine and began your search.
After a couple of months
nobody wanted you, because you're a Harkness, you're the daughter of Agatha Harkness, you were desperate, your last stop was the Sanctum Santorum.
now you never lost hope but no one ever died trying right? at least...
You go to knock and an Asian man opens the door with a little smile and it's strange to see a person who smiles at you on purpose to tell you that you are the daughter of a monster...wow one step forward, then the man opens his mouth and starts saying "nice to meet you, miss, what do I owe this visit to? My name is Wong but what's yours?"
Damn you should have told him my name....shit if he's been nice now as soon as I tell him my name he wants to kick me out or burn me.
"Nice to meet you Wong I'm here to recover my lost power, my name is Y/n Harkness, and I would appreciate it if-"
he didn't let me talk he told me with disgust
"no sorry we don't help monsters"
he was closing the door but you put your foot in the middle and start begging him to let you in and that you're not like your mother that you can be good,he was adamant.
...
It's been half an hour if not more that you were there in front with Wong, but a second man came that you recognized that it was Doctor Stephen Strange, your mother had told you about him, like all the others like Wanda, Lillia and others that you don't remember. You see that he looks at you and says seriously to Wong "let the girl Wong in" he turns around "but sir she is the daughter of-" Stephen stopped him "I explicitly said let her in" he said more hard and serious and Wong finally let you in.
You look at Stephen with gratitude and see that Wong runs like a dog "to what do I owe your presence, young lady" he says sweetly inviting you to follow him into the main room of the sanctuary,you sit on a sofa you are in front of him sitting "so I'm here because I lost my power, because of my mother" he says seriously and with a hint of melancholy "and I say...I'm not like her selfish,evil...I want to be good..." you sigh "but no one understands me", in all this Stephen looks at himself with understanding "I know, children don't have to be the same as their parents...I imagined that you were an exception, it doesn't mean that you're a Harkness you're evil, for now don't be sad ok Y/n? with me you're safe".
you smiled sweetly at his understanding "thank you Doctor Strange" "oh Y/n don't call me that, just call me Stephen",he smiled, got up from the couch and said "you will live at Sanctum Santorum under my protection, we will start tomorrow morning at 9:00 and I swear you will recover your power, word of a sorcerer" he says jokingly a little and says with great gratitude "thank you Stephen really also for understanding me",he approaches the door that divided the living room from the relics "you're welcome, ask later and then ask Wong about the room and if he gives you any problems tell me" he winks at you "see you later Y/n" he leaves the room, finally someone has understood you and also you think it will be cool to stay here...well finally maybe you will be able to live peacefully.
#doctor strange#doctor strange x reader#stephen strange#stephen strange x reader#doctorstrange fanfictions#doctor stephen strange#benedict cumberbatch#marvel#y/n#fanfics#fanfic#marvel fanfiction#dr strange#dr strange smut#dr stephen strange
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Hi
I got this cute Buck fic idea and thought I send it to you.
Reader is best friends with Buck and has a crush on him but he has a girlfriend. Reader relates to "You belong with me" and thinks of Buck. Hen knows about readers crush and told reader to sing the song on the karaoke night with the team. While reader is singing Buck begins to realize that he has a crush. When everyone goes home he talks with reader and they talk about there feelings.
Thank you 💖
you belong with me - e.b
summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif from @livelovecaliforniadreams
the shift had been long, and the round of drinks had taken the edge off. y/n had been craving a drink all day, awaiting the moment where she could knock them back at the bar. it’s a common routine for the team. they stop at the bar at night and spend some time decompressing there without any weight of their job on their shoulders.
y/n had been working with buck all day, being partnered up with him on calls and running into buildings together. it sounds like heaven, but it quickly turned into a hell for her.
y/n’s been bucks best friend since the start of their time at the 118. they clicked instantly, becoming an infamous pair at the station. she was there for buck through everything, all his injuries and all his heartbreaks. she was the one to mend him back together. it wasn’t time or anyone else, it was y/n.
now, it’s her heart that needs fixing whenever buck pulls up a photo of taylor on his phone. at first, it was just an simple hookup after she first came around, but it evolved into something bigger.
y/n could tell by the look in taylor’s eyes that she wasn’t fully in it. it’s almost like she used buck as profit, trying to work every story she can out of him. buck needs someone who loves him as much as he deserves, and y/n knows taylor can’t give him what he needs.
it was a minute thought in the back of her head, but it’s grown to be the first thing she thinks of in the morning. y/n knows that she can give buck what he needs. she knows how to love every part of him so he never has to doubt himself again. she wants to make him feel like the man of the world, but that’s been stripped from her reach.
buck took note of how many shots she had along with the cocktails she ordered. he watched her tense shoulders droop with each one she downed. he could sense that something was hitting her hard, but he couldn’t place it.
he knows y/n like the back of his hand. he spends incredible hours with her, but he never noticed her slip away when he started dating taylor. she stopped coming over, she stopped texting and calling, and it almost felt like things had become strictly professional. without a doubt, that’s never how buck wants it.
the music from the speakers was blaring through y/n’s ears, her hoping that it would drown out the image of buck and taylor in her mind. her drunkenness pictured what she would be like in her position, being able to kiss him and hold him every night. but she was too late, and the only thing to ease the pain was the liquor in front of her.
“hey,” hen scoots up, sitting in the stool next to y/n. “you’ve had a bit tonight.”
“i guess so,” y/n mumbles with a weak chuckle, spinning the straw of her drink around. the brightness in her mood had died down, and hen could tell exactly what it was that had caused it.
every single time buck uttered taylor’s name, her smile was wiped away in the blink of an eye. the way she always looks at buck can’t be described as anything but love, and hen is all too familiar with the feeling to let it pass by.
“i think i can guess what’s got you so down,” hen leans her forearm on the counter, turning more toward y/n to get her to crack open.
“i’m not down, hen,” she shakes her head humorously, but hen knows that there’s nothing remotely funny about what she’s feeling.
“i know you wish you had him.”
y/n looks back into her eyes, mixed with an expression of pity and sweetness. she’s never been one to root on a couples downfall, but hen knows how perfect buck and y/n are together and the potential they have. plus, it’s not completely wrong to say that hen doesn’t love taylor.
“i’ve tried to be his friend, but i don’t think i can take it anymore to watch him fall for taylor when she doesn’t love him,” y/n complains, throwing one of her hands up and letting her jaw rest on the other. hen can smell the tequila coming from her true words, and it only makes them hit harder.
“you need to say something before it’s too late!”
“it is too late, there’s nothing i can do,” y/n sighs, looking back down at the drink and not at her friend.
“you are the best thing for buck, and if anyone knows it, it’s us at the station. we’ve all heard the way he talks about you and the look in your eyes when he arrives. it’s no secret that you’re destined. but, don’t let one girl ruin something amazing.”
glancing back at buck, y/n sees his bright smile and shining eyes laughing with eddie and bobby. y/n almost feels a type of envy, sad that she can’t be as carefree as buck is right now. she wants to be the one to paint that smile on his face every single day.
the music continues ringing through y/n’s ears as the song slows to an end, the people coming off the stage from karaoke night. maddie and chimney stand trying to figure out a song, but hen has a plan. she grabs y/n’s hand, swooping her out of the chair and jogging with her to the front.
“hen, don’t even think about it-“
“c’mon, just trust me!” hen begs, still leading the stumbling girl up to the stage. she lets y/n stand to the side as she leans into chimney and maddie. “operation buck and y/n starts now!” she gleefully passes by and whispers a song title to the DJ.
y/n stands awkwardly on the stage, hen instantly coming up to start the song with fearless energy. she tries to focus on henrietta, and just them having fun on the stage but she can feel bucks eyes burning through her. she attempts to avoid eye contact, but she catches a glimpse of his smooth smirk.
she’s brought back to the times where buck gave her comfort, and eased any anxiety she had. the pit of worry she had in her stomach slowly became lighter the longer she looked into his eyes. she couldn’t manage to pull away, not even when hen started singing.
“you’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset…” hen starts, placing a hand on her hip and still noticing y/n’s mind is somewhere else. she notices the pair staring each other down, each with a faint grin on their face. “but she doesn’t, get your humor like i do.”
hen moves over and points the extra mic toward y/n’s lips, letting her take over the verse after. “and she’ll never get your story like i do,” y/n breaks off, the sweet music of her laugh coming through the speakers before hen continues.
as the song moves on through the lyrics, there’s an undeniable tightness in bucks chest with every word that comes out of her mouth. the way her hair moves with her body in the most luscious way, and how she manages to look perfect under any spotlight.
he quickly breaks himself out of his thoughts, remembering his girlfriend. he shouldn’t be thinking this about another girl, he’s spent too much time drooling over the wrong one. he just wants it to be perfect, but the more she sings, the more he feels directed to.
“and you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town,” y/n shoots a quick finger at him, and he’s unable to break the cheesy smile that’s on his face. he watches her happily run and jump around and she looks the most at ease than he’s seen in weeks. at least, he realizes, since he started dating taylor. “i’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re about to cry, i know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams think i know where you belong, think i know it’s with me.”
her voice trails off, suddenly becoming aware to the resurfacing tension between her and buck. his face has somehow turned into a scrunch, listening to each line and finding a way to apply it to their relationship. it’s at that moment when he realizes that it’s not the same with taylor. there’s no magic, but there’s a whole show for him and y/n and he’s been missing out on it.
when the instrumentals come to a stop, the lack of comfort in bucks demeanor makes the hole in her stomach return. she just wants to run out of the bar, feeling like she just embarrassed herself in front of the man she lives for. she slowly wobbles down the steps of the stage, handing the second mic off to hen as she reveals herself to the cool air of los angeles.
she lets wind bite at her cheeks, somehow managing to let her feel something again other than hurt from the look on bucks face. she curses him for being so easy to fall for, so easy to love and so effortless to want. a part of her is tempted to go back in and order another drink, but the jingle of the door snaps her mind out of its thoughts.
buck stands in front of her, his thick steps crunching on the concrete. his distinct feeling that y/n always cherished only makes her want to run and hide. the only things that were heard were the speeding cars and the busy city of LA. the thoughts screaming inside her head alongside those, but were soon silenced by bucks small voice.
“you looked upset at the end of the song,” buck says, breaking the uncomfortable quietness between them.
“i’m not upset,” she laughs, dryly. buck can tell she’s far from sober, but she’s never failed to say whatever she wants.
“then why are you out here all alone?”
“can’t a woman be alone for a few minutes?” she asks, trying to reel in the pettiness.
“i don’t know if i did something, but we haven’t been the same for a bit, since… you know.”
“since you started shacking up with taylor?”
“if you want to put it simply like that,” he tilts his head, looking at y/n who refuses to let her eyes land back on his. “i don’t know what i did.”
“you didn’t do anything, buck,” she sighs, leaning her head back against the brick walls of the bar, trying to calm the spinning. “i just- i can’t sit here and pretend with you anymore.”
“then stop pretending!” he replies. “you don’t have to put up a wall between us, i want you to let me in. i care about you!”
“i want you to love me, buck!”
he pauses, finally stepping in front of her instead of besides her. he forces her to make eye contact with him, locking his bright eyes with her mesmerizing colors. “i do.”
“not how i want you to.”
“well why didn’t you say anything?”
“because i was fucking scared! you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in years, and i’m not going to ruin it because i can’t help but fall in love with you!” y/n shouts, steadying herself on the ground before she runs her hand through her hair.
“we’ve never been just friends, and you know that.”
she chuckles, but in the most painful way. “so you’re telling me, i just made a fool of myself and i’ve been ripping myself apart these past few weeks for you to say we were never friends?”
“friends don’t love each other the way i love you!” he exclaims back, throwing his hands up in frustration. “i thought, i thought that taylor might be different, and i’ve been trying to convince myself but she’s not the woman i want.”
“she’s like, the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, what’s not to like?” y/n pretends, thinking of the woman in her mind and how she’s able to get buck so simply.
“she’s not you. she’ll never know me the way you do. even if i wanted to, there’s no one that compares to you. it’s not over between you and i, trust me.”
y/n managed to suck the tears back in her eyes, fighting them until their failed to fall. she missed the buck she used to have, the version of them that once was. the joking, the happy version of them. “i’d wait for you, buck. only you.”
he nods lightly, allowing the corners of his mouth to curl up into a smile, breaking the blank expression he formerly had. “come back in, please?”
“fine,” she says, pulling herself off the wall and walking back inside with him. “swifts the better taylor, by the way.”
“yeah, yeah, i know,” buck smirks, being reminded of her shining personality that’s been hidden by the clouds.
#911#911onfox#bobby nash#eddie diaz#evan buckley#evan buckley fanfic#athena grant#henrietta wilson#evan buckley x reader#evan buck buckley x reader#evan buckley 911#911 chimney#howard han#maddie buckley#may grant#evan buckley one shot#evan buck buckley#evan buckley fanfiction#evan buckley fluff#evan buckley x you#evan buckley fic#evan buckley x y/n#911 buck
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The Archon's Baby - Chapter 10 - Into the Night Kingdom
First Chapter Previous Chapter
request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏
warnings: talks about castration, sisters arguing, talks of dying (nobody dies in this chapter), innuendos.
Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.
"What did the doctor say?" Mavuika asked, giving you her full attention as Iansan looked confused.
"Archon?" Iansan began, but her question went unanswered.
"To rest. I'm fine... we're both fine. Mayahuel thinks the calculations are off though."
"Oh?" Mavuika frowned, knowing that Chuychu had estimated how far along you were when you took your test.
"Ten maybe... rather than nine. Find out more accurately soon." You shrugged, trying to block out how Iansan was looking between you and Mavuika.
"Archon, what is happening?" Iansan waited for an explanation, before realising this was clearly not her business.
"A personal development. One that in time, those closest to us will know more about. I apologise, Iansan." Mavuika explained giving you an apologetic look as she held back her urge to sweep you into her arms. Or to pepper your face in kisses and bury her face in your neck. To one day hold your baby in her arms.
"It's fine, but aren't you supposed to be resting?" Iansan turned to you, as you raised your hands in surrender, heading into Mavuika's personal chambers- yours and Mavuika's chambers, to do as you were told.
"How much does she know?" Iansan asked the moment that she heard the doors close behind you.
"Everything and more." Mavuika sighed, playing with the cuff of her bodysuit as Iansan frowned to herself. Were you one of the ancient name bearers?
(You were definitely bearing something alright...)
The sun was setting, you had no doubt Chuychu had reached wherever Chasca had gone and was giving her an earful now. You however, returned to Atea's letter, frowning as you read over its contents, then glancing at the other things in the package...
/// Meanwhile...
"Alright. It's just the two of us now. You have one minute to explain yourself." Chuychu folded her arms, not even facing Chasca, who sat on a crate, mirroring Chuychu's folded arms.
"I don't have anything to say. You don't have to approve, but you should know I only do what's necessary." Chasca huffed, but her younger sister was having none of it.
"What's necessary? You almost stormed the Speaker's Chamber to castrate the Archon. You seriously think our little sister needs that on top of everything? Your attitude is the problem here. Half the time, it's like you don't care! You try to sneak off to the Night Kingdom behind my back, then play it down as if it's just a trip abroad! Did you think about how it might affect me, or our pregnant baby sister, who would hang onto our every word growing up? Do you want her baby growing up without one of their aunts?"
"Well... technically I am going abroad, right? And, did you really have to bring that up?" Chasca shuffled uncomfortably at the memories.
"Again with the excuses!" Chuychu exclaimed, frowning at her older sister's attitude, before starting to talk through the four levels of danger, again.
Unfortunately, unlike arguments with you involved, this one did not end peacefully... it was not a normal argument.
"Alright, let's stop this here. If we keep going, I might actually have to get serious, and I think Wayna prefers his roof attached to his house."
"Is that a threat? That sounds like a threat to me!" Chuychu shouted, as Chasca finally raised her voice, momentarily.
"UGH! Chuychu! Younger sisters are supposed to listen to their elders."
"Well, we both know how well that goes sometimes." Chuychu huffed, reflecting on what she had told you in the past, "so you're really going to go? No matter what I say? I'm supposed to be your sister."
"Then, support me. I'll be back, all you have to do is wait." Chasca stated before turning away to go back to the others.
"Chasca... so, that's it? Why'd you both have to turn out to be... so... darn... annoying!" Chuychu grumbled, walking away first. She could at least distract herself with any patients at the Scions of the Canopy... while her elder sister risked her life in the Night Kingdom.
///
Paimon's voice woke you up first, but you had no interest in leaving the bed until you heard Chasca speak.
"Is she here?"
"Resting." Mavuika was vague, gesturing to her personal chamber doors. She didn't want anyone else entering after Chasca headed inside.
"It's me. I'm back. We're heading off again soon, but I wanted to check on you-" Your eldest sister began, but her words stopped at the moment you moved to hug her, waiting for a moment before she nodded, and let the hug happen.
"I missed you." Her ears barely picked up your words, holding you gently in her arms. She didn't want to hurt you accidentally, but you both needed the hug.
"I missed you too." Chasca whispered, before she moved her arm, "also, I brought you a snack. Puff Pops, from the Scions of the Canopy."
Your eyes lit up, the snack reminding you of many a time you watched the stars with Mavuika, eating it together in between conversation.
"Can I share them with Mavuika?" you hesitatingly asked, looking your oldest sister in the eye as she softened and nodded.
"I should warn you though. There's more than just Mavuika out there."
"So I should put on more clothes... um, can you help me find something comfy that also fits?" You flustered as Chasca raised an eyebrow, feeling out of her depth as she glanced around the room.
"I thought Chuychu helped you with that stuff. She mentioned something about bras-"
"She told you that? She said you'd shrivel up like a raisin if I asked you for help bra shopping!" You spluttered, as Chasca did indeed metaphorically shrivel up like a raisin at the idea of bra shopping with her younger sisters.
"Just... put some socks and shoes on too." Chasca brushed you off as you changed out of the sleep shorts into something more appropriate.
"Yeah... I confused the doctor by walking around with no shoes on earlier too." You admitted as you and Chasca headed towards the door to Mavuika's office, where all her mementos were... and apparently everyone else had gathered too.
"What is this place?" Paimon enquired, waving when she spotted you appear with Chasca, and a food she hadn't seen before, "ooh, food! What is that? Hey, isn't that Atea's talisman?"
"Puff pops. Scions of the Canopy specialty." You answered, flicking one of them into your mouth before scurrying over to Mavuika's desk.
"This is where I store all the various mementos I've collected." Mavuika explained, while the others admitted they'd never been in here, you were all too familiar with the room.
"I suppose you could see it as a hobby of sorts. In Natlan, everyone grows up listening to the stories of heroes. Chasca, you're already aware of your sister's work in preservation, physical items do a far better job at preserving those stories than our own memory." Mavuika sighed, watching you from the corner of her eye with a fond smile, "now, I still have some preparations to make for the ceremony, so feel free to take a look in the meantime. If you're curious about an item, I'm more than willing to tell you about it's origins."
"I can, also. Some of the stuff in here is what I've recovered or helped make." You replied, leaning against Mavuika's desk, much to the confusion of Mualani, and Chasca's uncomfortable frown.
"This flower looks like it's thriving. You must be good at taking care of plants, archon." Chasca commented, looking from the flowers to where you and Mavuika were stood, exchanging glances.
"The seeds were a gift I planted, there were so many I spread them between a few pots." Mavuika explained, not seeing how Chasca held back a shudder.
"Maybe you should have been more careful about where you planted your seed." Luckily everyone else was distracted observing the historical objects from their respective tribes, or chose to ignore what Chasca said because of the look on your face.
"Chuychu is right, you're so annoying!" You shivered, no longer hungry as you offered a grateful Paimon the rest of the Puff Pops.
Mavuika's ears burned with warmth, trying to keep her face blank but failing as she turned on her heel to not look in your sister's direction.
"Are you alright?" you mouthed, trying to hide the photo that your lover had on her desk of the two of you, but all you had done was gently lay it face down, leaving the mural of Mavuika's family fully on display. Mavuika nodded, answering Paimon's questions about Atea's talisman, then the other mementos.
Eventually the Traveller and Paimon made their way to Mavuika, who had just finished up with the powder, waiting for it to set.
"Well, what do you think of my collection? Do you feel like you have a better understanding of Natlan's culture?" Mavuika smiled, continuing to explain how the collection served as something similiar to ancient names. Something you were aware of, which was why you had taken photos of everything Mavuika had collected, and banned her from trying to use the albums for anything but looking at sentimentally.
Mavuika's talks about time left you speechless, having heard her explain the shape of time before, but it never failed with you. Something about time haunted you, but you knew why. Mavuika was on borrowed time, and so was Natlan, if the abyss couldn't be stopped. Blinking back tears, you directed your attention onto the Traveller, who spared a concerned glance at you.
"Humanity excels at living in the present, but too often, we forget the past, and neglect the future." Mavuika explained, nodding as the Traveller figured out what she was saying.
"So it all comes down to the power of the divine throne and the rules... wait is that, a family portrait?" Paimon floated closer to Mavuika's desk, "and- what do you have there?"
Paimon spotted your hand holding a photo frame down from her view, "It's mine. It's just a photo. Mavuika, how about you explain your family portrait?" you stumbled, looking panicked but Mavuika didn't hesitate to explain. Especially since that photo was of you and her as a couple.
"That's my father, mother, younger sister, and the little saurians we raised. I turned a piece of my dad's armour into a canvas and comissioned a famous artist to paint our likeness." Mavuika explained, her hand lingering over her heart as she spoke.
Chasca watched carefully, noticing the soft look on your face as Mavuika spoke of her family.
"Your sister is so cute! Looks like you two are really close!" Paimon cooed, "Paimon was having a hard time thinking of an archon as a normal human, but seeing this portrait... it kinda makes sense now. It really doesn't look like there was anything special about you before-" Paimon froze as you let out a cough, "wait, is Paimon allowed to say that?" covering her mouth, the Traveller gave her a warning look to watch her tongue.
"A little late for that question, don't you think?" Mavuika chuckled, but the tenseness of the Traveller and Paimon left you raising an eyebrow, and Paimon's hurried apologies left you to wonder. What had happened in their interactions with the other nations' archons?
Mavuika's laughter brought you back to reality, catching yourself before you reached out to snuggle into her side. You couldn't, not when you two weren't alone... plus, Chasca seemed to still be mad at Mavuika, judging from the way she was watching you both.
"Becoming the archon doesn't mean you sever ties with your family. The position just comes with a lot of responsibilities, so it impacts how often you get to see them." Mavuika turned her head to look at you, hiding the sad look in her eye from the two outlanders. Instead, she began to recall a memory with Hine from her childhood, noticing how you had closed your eyes, trying to hold back your tears.
"As the Archon, I made a vow to defend this nation, and experiences like that... they remind me of what I'm trying to protect."
"Well, what happened after that? This portrait looks pretty old, your sister must be all grown up by now, right?" Paimon innocently asked, not even acknowledging how you got up, leaving the photo frame alone as you headed towards your older sister.
Mavuika had guessed about what happened to Hine, thanks to your work alongside the Scions of the Canopy, and the previous pyro archons knowledge. However, a lot had been lost to history.
"Hey, what's-" Chasca began, freezing up as you hugged her without a word. Her arms eventually wrapped around you gently, her chin on your shoulder as she stole a glance at Mavuika, who only smiled understandingly back at her.
"It's getting late, Chuychu arranged food for you with Chanca." Mavuika explained, smiling softly as you frowned but nodded, heading out of the door to let the others try to save Kachina. You didn't need to be there, so Mavuika would find you when everything was done.
"I'll tell Chuychu to be ready just in case. She's very experienced with dealing with abyssal corrosion- that face you just made, don't tell me you two got into another fight?" Mavuika spotted how Chasca immediately looked uncomfortable at the mention of Chuychu.
"The last time all three sisters were in the same place, it didn't end well. Chuychu doesn't know I've apologised..." Chasca gestured to the photo frame, while Mavuika sighed.
"You three... I can only have myself to blame."
///
"Hey munchkin." Chuychu approached you eating dinner under the watchful eye of Chanca. The ancient name bearer suspected something the moment your sister had arranged food with her, and tatacos were off the menu indefinitely. You loved tatacos, your sisters would order them from her all the time for you after all.
"Hi..." you tried to speak over your mouthful of broth from your grainfruit meat soup, deciding to hug Chuychu instead of finishing the meal.
"Oh- hey, finish your food." Chuychu tried to tell you off, but the fight with Chasca was still in her mind, no matter how much she'd shoved it back, "you're worried about Chasca too?"
"When am I not? I worry about all of you, all the time. Especially with the abyss getting worse." You admitted, turning back to poke your spoon into the soup for a moment, Chuychu raising an eyebrow as you chewed your lip, looking back at her.
"Um... I love you, I'm proud of you, and I will always love you and be proud of you." Your eyes were glassy as you took Chuychu by surpirse, her stern attitude that worked on Chasca melting away at the look on your face.
"Shhh, I love you too, okay? You're okay, little one. We're... all okay." Chuychu's heart ached as she realised that was a lie. Chasca going to the Night Kingdom, exposing herself to so much abyssal energy... hopefully they should have found Kachina by now.
///
Chuychu ended up persuading you to go to bed, the others would be returning by sunrise, Mavuika had said, and you needed to sleep.
"The photo albums?" you gave Mavuika a look that Chuychu could only raise an eyebrow at.
"Intact and perfect." She nodded, realising you knew what she had done. All her mementos, burnt to ash, all in exchange for power to save the group. It wasn't long after that for your sister to usher you back to Mavuika's chambers to sleep, although feeling her watch you fall asleep made you feel strange.
What happened was replaying in your head. The sacrifices Mavuika had to make for Natlan were piling up even higher...
#mavuika x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#chasca x sister!reader#chuychu x sister!reader#requested fic#turned into a series
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Rivals
Prompts by @raven-cincaide-words
Also, Chapell Roan's song "Good Luck, babe!"
The booming sound of the speakers and the screams of the fans really got him excited, the adrenaline coursed through his veins and the excitement made him want to jump in place.
‘Missa! Missa!’ he could hear them chanting from their place backstage, shouting his name, eager for his presence.
Come on Missa, you're the best, he encouraged himself a little before putting his presence on stage, ‘Good night, Quesadilla Island!’
It was the final night of the singing competition being held on the main island, Missa was originally from Karmaland, a small island near Quesadilla, from a little town called ‘Minecraft Extreme’ this was his chance to succeed.
‘Are you ready for the best night of your lives!’ shouted Missa.
The crowd went wild. Missa loved that power he had over the audience, how he could get excited so easily, but he knew this wasn't going to be easy. Philza was also in the competition, and despite his public belittling, he knew how talented Philza was.
Missa smiled as he heard the soundtrack to ‘Good luck, babe!’ And he smiled even more as he saw Philza standing in the audience, this was his chance.
With a dramatic gesture, Missa approached the edge of the stage, her eyes fixed on Philza. The audience followed his gaze, and a murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew the history between them, the romance that had blossomed and died so publicly.
‘This song,’ Missa announced, her voice charged with emotion, ’is for someone special. Someone who used to know me better than anyone else.’
Missa rested his gaze on Philza, the blonde tensed, he was sure he could feel Kristin's surprised gaze beside him, looking at Missa as if she'd just solved a puzzle.
Missa wasn't going to lie, he was enjoying it, he was enjoying it a lot, he was wallowing in Philza's discomfort, and he couldn't be happier. When the bridge came, she intentionally moved closer to Philza, an almost macabre smile on her lips.
‘When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night.’ She said walking down to the stalls, ‘With your head in your hands, she's nothing more than your wife’ Missa turned his gaze to Kristin, ‘And when you think about me all of those years ago, You're standing face to face with “I told you so”’ Missa was standing in front of Philza, ‘You know I hate to say it, I told you so, You know I hate to say, but I told you so’ he said in a whisper to Philza.
Philza pursed his lips in annoyance, but could not find the words to respond to the one he thought was the love of his life. His mind swirled between anger, humiliation and something else he couldn't identify, something buried under layers of pride and resentment. But before he could react, Kristin intervened.
‘This isn't just about the competition, is it?’ She told him, looking at him as her best friend almost pityingly. ‘It's about him.’
‘No,’ Philza muttered, ’I'm not going to let him humiliate me, I'm THE Philza Minecraft, a little boy from Karmaland isn't going to make fun of me.’
Kristin frowned, recognising the determination in her friend's voice. ‘Phil, don't do anything rash. Remember why we're here.’
But Philza didn't seem to hear her. With a sudden movement, he turned around and began to push his way through the crowd, heading for the backstage area.
‘Where are you going?’ Kristin asked, raising her voice to make herself heard over the music and the shouts of the crowd.
‘To prepare for my performance,’ Philza replied without turning around. ‘It's time to remind everyone who I am.’
#qsmp#qsmp pissa#pissa#pissa nation#speakerwriting#missasinfonia#deathduo#qsmp missa#qsmp philza#qsmp fanfiction#kristinini#mu#mumza#kristen mumza
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Hits different
summary: it has never been so difficult getting over a guy
pairing: Matt x reader
warnings: some angst? idk, maybe if you have abandonment issues can be a little triggering (let me know if you think I should add any)
word count: 1.2k
a/n: okay, I'm really excited because it's my birthday! I wanted to gave you a gift because of that (I don't care that they should the other way around, I'm a giver <3). Now that I'm of legal age in Thailand, I want to communicate you: ANOTHER ONE BASED ON A TAYLOR SONG. Sorry, it's just midnights always makes me think of Matt. It's my first time writing "angst" so I hope you have an enjoyable time reading this :)
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The reflection on the dirty mirror of Josie's was judging you. You were a complete mess, from your hair to your makeup. The long hours taming your hair, quickly went to the trash. All frizzy and disheveled now. The burgundy lipstick, blurred. The mascara, smudged and dry under your eyes. Your dry throat made you gulp and the acid on your taste buds reminded you of how you were throwing up in a stranger's shoes moments ago. A stranger you briefly made out with. Not that you really wanted, but your friends told you you needed this. Finally, you finished washing your hands of your vomit and decided it was time to call it a night. Why was everything feeling so wrong?
Someone called a cab for you. Was it one of your friends? Josie? Perhaps the stranger? Once inside you started weeping, trying to not make any sound. The driver gave you a sad look from the rearview, as if your emotions were contagious.
You remember clearly why your stomach had that reaction. While kissing that guy, you started wondering if he was also kissing others. Did he like another? Was that the reason he disappeared? Was he in love with another? Did he even think of you? The image of him kissing a random woman, being there for her, loving her was what made your insides turn around, leaving a disgusting gift near the bar's door.
“If he’s the one, you’ll know” your friend started comforting you when you started shedding tears at the song that played on the radio on your first date which was blasting through the speakers.
“But he treated me so well. I love him. I’m so in love with Matt that it hurts.” you didn’t remember how you started talking about him, but you also didn’t remember talking about anything else.
“What hurts?”
“My heart. It’s like a little rodent is gnawing it bit by bit, after being sanded down with sandpaper and then burning every piece in the sun. And the worst is that I can't do anything to stop it.”
“Come on, girl. Love’s just a lie. A trick from companies, lawyers and the government to take your money.” another friend tried to cheer you up.
“You’re literally gonna get married in two months.” she shut up knowing you were right. “I wanted him to move in, even gave him a key, and he ran away.” you took another sip from your drink. “He was so perfect. Like out-of-a-Jane-Austen’s-book perfect.”
“He wouldn't be so perfect if he let you go.” you were quiet, thinking. “You know what you should do?” You look at her hopefully. “You should flirt with other guys, maybe kiss a few and if one of them’s lucky enough bring him home. That always made you get over any guy before.”
“Exactly. You used to switch from boy to boy like they were toys. Always saying you needed space or ghosting them. That the freedom felt like a beach breeze.” you were so disgusted. Matt wasn’t a fleeting random guy, he was the man that made you want to settle down. “Always shunning commitment.”
A couple weeks had passed. You woke up from dreaming of him. This time you blamed it on the movie you watched last night. ‘This ending is more realistic, otherwise he had left her’ this was what you said to the screen with your mouth full of popcorn when the love interest died. You found one of his blue shirts in your closet. Damn, you loved how those fit him. You took it and when the scent of him started invading your nose, your eyes started watering like a reflex, without your permission. That morning, every time you closed your eyes you remembered something about him.
“Do you think I can do it?” with his head in your thighs, you were massaging his hair while insecurities about your work were eating you alive. The feeling of his locks and his relaxed face were the only thing easing up your stress.
“Of course you can. You are the most capable person I’ve ever known.”
“But do you believe in me?”
“The faith I have in you could make the big guy up there jealous.” the outside of his eyes wrinkled. The reason? Easy, the sweetest smile you have contemplated in your life. All your self doubting was gone at those words accompanied by that view.
That’s the memory that popped up to your head when you passed the couch in your living room. The next one happened when you were waiting for the coffee to finish.
“That can’t be true! It’s not fair.” the wooden spoon pointing at Matt.
“Yet it is.”
“Bullshit.” he laughed.
“I doubt Columbia taught me wrong.”
“Maybe your professor lied to you.”
“And he took all the time to learn braille so he could change what was written in my books?”
“Maybe. There are a lot of creepy crazy people out there.”
“Could you just stop arguing and give me a kiss?” he said, grabbing the wrist that was still threatening him, getting you the closer he could.
“Only if you agree with me.”
“I agree that it ain’t fair.”
“It works for me.” you gripped his shirt, sealing the conversation with a kiss.
Before him you would have argued that injustice was inherent to human kind, however he made you believe in the good, in people, in this world.
You looked at your phone, killing time scrolling to social media. You saw a post of your friends, they went to a bar last night and you didn’t blame them for not inviting you after the little show you put up on the last night you went out.
Taking your mug you sat in the stool nearest to your fridge, the one that gave you a better view of your hall. Perhaps he would show up. At least that's what you told yourself every morning when you had breakfast sitting there, boring your eyes in the door as if it was going to make him materialize.
People usually talk about opportunities as trains and you were more than willing to take it, but you were waiting in a disused station waiting for one that never came again. You were exhausted from all these metaphors in your life, reminding you how you lost him. You had enough with literal events. It wasn't easy seeing him in the news a couple days before when his firm won a big case against some big fish called Fisk.
You were so immersed in your thoughts that you almost didn't hear it. What was that sound by your door? You didn't want to get hopeful, it could be just your neighbor. Was that a dingling in your lock? The only one with your house keys was… It couldn't be him, could it? Were you still dreaming? The expectation had you holding your breath and, when the door finally opened, you didn’t know how to feel.
“I know you probably just want to kick me out,” did you? You had daydreamed hours and days about this, how would it be like the next time you see each other, if he would be the one reaching out for you, if he would really want you back. “you have every right to do it, but at least I think you deserve an explanation. Then, if you want me to leave, I’ll understand.”
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a/n: am I a bad person for leaving an open ending?Maybe? Anyways, the song is 'Hits different' by the genius Taylor Swift. I know it's in the title but I put it here in case someone doesn't know it :)
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock x you#daredevil#daredevil netflix#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil fic#marvel#mcu fic#mcu daredevil#matt x reader#matt murdock angst
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91221
Chapter Seven: I've Lived Before, Jagiya
Summary: Kang Hyunyul has had a good life since he left the Jindo gang. But when he finds out that Do Jin is going to be temporarily released, he's stressed and the return of an old flame triggers familiar feelings and with them, the old memories of the only real thing of his complicated past.
All while she was saving his life, literally putting her life on the line.
Chapter Summary: Sujin and Hyunyul find themselves in a similar situation, only this time, it's way earlier.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, mention of blood and stuff, makeout scene, tell me if I missed something A/N: Alright, I want theories. What do y'all think the code means?
A stretcher.
Hospital.
Hyunyul leaning over Sujin in panic, begging her to be alright as the doctors took her to some operating room, his hand clutched in hers.
Same scene. Same cause. Only the year was different.
It's too similar.
It was the only thing she could think of as darkness clouded her vision and her hand loosened around his.
And it was the only thing they could think of as he was told to stay back and wait, having to feel her hand slide out of his.
It's all the same.
Earlier that day.
"What's going on with you these days?" Yojun asked as she wiped a table clean in the evening. The afternoon rush had just died down, leaving them an hour or two to rest.
"Nothing," she said, even as her heart fluttered. "Why?"
"You have the stupidest smile on your face," he said suspiciously. "Are you seeing someone?"
"Maybe," she teased, shrugging a shoulder just to rile him up. In her periphery, she saw him jolt and shuffle to follow her as she worked.
"Who is it? What's his name? Where's he from? Did you look into him-" he batted a hand with a firm shake of his head. "Doesn't matter, I'll look into him anyway."
"Gosh, I was just joking," she said with a chuckle. Yojun looked at her with a pointed finger.
"You better tell me when that joke turns true," he said. "People aren't trustable these days."
"In that case, I should be looking into you too," she muttered. "You're dating my friend."
He slapped a hand on his chest, feigning offense. "You've known me longer than you've known her."
"So? She's still my friend."
"You're impossible."
"That's why you love me."
"Can't deny that," he said with a sigh.
She smiled as she went into the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes into the sink. When she came out, Kyungmi was talking to Yojun all, smiles and blushes.
When she noticed Sujin, she turned, her face all red. "But then, who's the guy you've been hanging out with, then?" She asked, obviously having heard the previous conversation.
"He's just a friend," she said, earning a side eye from the older woman.
"Yeah, okay," she said, having a silent conversation with Yojun.
Had it only been a year since they started dating? They were already acting like a married couple.
She'd been able to pay off the debt somehow. She knew that Hyunyul was only helping her because he felt guilty about what happened when they were young.
But she wasn't so sure anymore. He'd been asking to hang out with her even after that.
On one hand, she was cautious, she was careful about opening up around him. But on the other hand, her heart got faster every time she thought about him.
So, basically... she wasn't cautious at all. But she was still confused why he called her now and then, asking her if she was free.
Her phone rang at the moment, and she got it out to see his name.
"Hey, are you free right now?" He asked, his voice soft as it filtered through the speaker.
"I guess," she said, looking around at the empty spaces. "For an hour, at least."
"Nice," he said enthusiastically. "I've been needing the coffee."
And just like that, they both were sitting at a table, drinking their coffee.
Hyunyul liked the silence he had with Sujin. He'd been craving it every time he was at work.
Though, it wasn't just the silence he craved.
He craved her.
Her company. Her food. The conversations. Just her, in all her glory.
Her hair had gotten longer, now reaching till her upper back. His own hair was reaching till his neck, just blindly following whatever trend was going on at the moment. The way his barber styled it was nice though.
Her sigh brought his attention back to her. He followed her gaze to the couple at the end. Then, he couldn't help but watch her, as her face lit up, because god help him, that's what her smile did.
Had he somehow missed her so much in the two days he hadn't seen her? So much that he couldn't help but think that she'd somehow gotten prettier?
Nahh, she's been like this since that last payment, remember?
That was true. She'd put up an offer on the coffee that evening. She'd probably been sleeping better since then.
It was when he'd felt that he was in too deep. That he needed to put some distance. For her and for himself.
He couldn't let it play out like last time again. Not this time.
But then, he couldn't stay away either. Every time he decided that he wouldn't meet for a week, it was like his eyes itched from the inside to see her.
Memories flashed through his mind again, the stuff that he had nightmares about.
...
"You played me, didn't you? You used me for my money."
"No! Just listen to me, Jagiya-"
"I've heard enough, Sujin. I don't even know why I trusted you again. It was you who told Dojin it was me, wasn't it?"
...
91221.
"Hey! Get away from her!"
"Sujin! No, no, no, please, no, Sujin, stay with me, okay?"
"Jagiya... I'm sorry..."
...
"You have to stay outside, sir, you can't come in here!"
...
"We tried everything we can, I'm very sorry for your loss..."
...
"Hyunyul," Sujin's firm voice broke into his mind. She was peering at him with concern. He just pasted on a smile and nodded, gulping down his coffee.
Her head tilted in suspicion, but she didn't push further.
He looked at her again, wondering what the numbers meant. She never did tell him.
She was busy dying, you dumb idiot.
He let out a chuckle, even if it was barely funny. And then, with a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.
He finished his coffee and stood up, wanting to exit, but, he stopped when he felt Sujin grab his wrist. He looked back at her and was surprised to see her so... uncertain.
Hesitant.
"I... wanted to tell you something," she said, her palm getting clammy around his wrist.
They both went up to her house and sat beside each other on the couch, as she fiddled and he waited.
"What is it?" He asked softly after ten minutes went by. Her anxiety only worsened, her knee starting to bounce.
He placed a hand on her knee, prompting her to stare at it, and then at him. And he was caught in the dark depths of her eyes as his breath hitched.
He didn't know who moved first. But someone did, because their lips were joined. Her hand clutched his hair as his hand on her knee went to her other thigh, pulling her on top of him.
It was heavenly, getting to touch her like this again. To get to kiss her like this again. Like they both had the oxygen the other needed to live.
Their hands roamed as their kiss got intense, tongues clashing against each other. Then, it got slow. It got intimate and lazy, the way they'd kiss when they had time, just soft lips devouring each other.
How could he ever think he could stay away from her? He couldn't even think of parting for breath.
When they finally did part to breathe, there was a grin on both their faces. Sujin's was a bit more shy, as she touched her fingertips to her lips in disbelief.
Again, he watched her, as she started to debate internally and gave her a peck on the lips. She looked at him with surprise in her eyes.
"Oh, come on," he whispered against her lips. "Just let it be. Don't ruin it for yourself."
After some more time of just kissing, he started to leave.
It was very reluctant, but it was important. They didn't talk about it, they didn't stop to think just how the dynamic had changed.
They just let it be.
♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬
That night, his phone let out a loud ringtone just as he had started to lull into sleep.
He picked it up, his eyes groggy. At first he didn't really understand the message, but when his mind finally processed it, his blood went cold.
No. No. Not again.
The numbers on the screen were the same as last time.
91221.
He flew out of bed and put on his shirt, running to the door as he tried to call Sujin.
He wasn't going to lose her again.
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!! Thanks for reading 💙💙💙
#twinkling watermelon fanfiction#twinkling watermelon#kang hyunyul#kdrama fanfic#fanfic writing#fan fiction#fanfiction
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day nine - survivor’s guilt
notes: here's day nine! sorry its up so late but the upside, you'll get 2 stories in the same day pretty much.
read on AO3 or below
“Hello?”
A familiar voice flitted through the speaker, instantly energizing everyone in the room. “Stella.”
“Oh my God, Kelly?!” Stella grabbed her phone and pulled it closer. “Wha…but…the plane—the plane crashed. Your plane….what?!”
“I wasn’t on it. I’m OK.”
The emotion in his voice told them he was the exact opposite.
“The airline called, they told us your boarding pass had been scanned!” Stella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Brett rubbed her back comfortingly and Stella took a breath, knowing she was getting worked up. “God, Kelly, we thought you were dead. What the hell happened?”
A sigh came from over the line and everyone could hear the shudder Kelly tried to hide. “I uh, I was on the plane at first. I made it all the way to my seat… but turns out the airline double booked a few seats including mine. The guy who also had my seat, his name was Bryan—his wife had gone into labor with their first kid and he was trying to get home before the baby was born. So I gave him the seat.”
“They managed to get me on a different flight that left about half an hour later so it didn’t seem like a big deal. We didn’t even know about the crash and then all of a sudden, our flight was being grounded in St. Louis. I guess American Airlines is grounding certain flights until the cause of the crash is determined. They’re trying to get everyone on different flights but there’s no telling how long that will take.”
“You weren’t on the plane,” Stella said quietly, sighing in relief. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think any of us are okay right now, Stell.”
“Right, I know,” Stella said, sniffling. “I just…. god Kelly.”
“I know.”
Stella was crying again but this time, the tears streaming down her face were tears of relief. Stella was too emotional to keep talking but no one was ready for Kelly to hang up.
“Kelly, it’s good to hear your voice again,” Boden said. “Now is there anything we can do to help you?”
“Thanks, Chief.” Kelly paused and there was a commotion on his end of the phone. “I have to go. Make sure Stella’s okay for me until I get back?”
“You’ve got it Kelly,”
… … …
Three hours later, Kelly Severide was finally back in Chicago. The flight was easy but after the day’s events, tensions were running high for staff and passengers.
It had been the longest day of Kelly’s life. His brain wanted nothing more than to go home and sit in silence, away from everyone else, but his body and his heart wanted nothing more than to hug his wife.
Getting an Uber was next to impossible, the line wrapped through the arrivals area. Thankfully, one of the guys who sat in Kelly’s row offered him a ride and Kelly jumped at the chance.
If he got a strange look for asking to be dropped off at a firehouse, he didn’t care.
Kelly had texted Stella on the ride over, making sure she was still awake. Even though she’d said she was, he wasn’t expecting her and the rest of the crew to be waiting for him on the apron when the car pulled up to Firehouse 51.
He had barely made it out of the car before Stella had rushed to him and wrapped him in the tightest hug she could manage. It was a hug Kelly returned just as fiercely.
After a day of unimaginable loss and trauma, Kelly and Stella could both finally take a breath.
… … …
The days following the plane crash were rough. Stella was dealing with the trauma of thinking Kelly was dead by not letting her husband out of her sight and Kelly? Well, he wasn’t really dealing with it.
As more details came out about the crash, the more withdrawn Kelly became. The list of passengers and crew members who died had been released and with that came the sorrowful stories from the loved ones left behind. News stations had gotten word that there were a few original passengers on the flight who had given up their seats, narrowly avoiding the same fate as the 248 passengers and crew members, but thankfully those passengers’ names were kept under wraps.
The last thing Kelly needed was a media circus surrounding him.
Boden gave Kelly a few days off, all but ordering him to talk to the CFD psychologist and get his head on straight. As good as Kelly was at hiding his emotions, Boden knew the man well and could read him easily. It was clear Kelly was struggling; how could anyone come that close to death and not be shaken up?
Stella took a few days off to stay with Kelly. Her nightmares about the plane crash were reason enough to take a few days off but Kelly wasn’t sleeping at all. He’d go through the motions and, even on the nights when he didn’t get out of bed for hours at a time, Stella would see the dark circles under his eyes grow darker every day.
After the emotional comedown of learning Kelly was alive, Stella started researching survivor’s guilt. Kelly Severide wasn’t great at sharing his feelings (though he’d gotten exceptionally better in recent years) but he still felt them and Stella knew he’d be feeling this for a long time.
Survivor’s guilt was something they saw all the time as first responders and Kelly was showing a lot of the signs.
He’d met with the CFD psychologist once already but nothing changed. He needed help, he needed to talk about everything, but Stella knew pushing him to talk wouldn’t end well. She just had to be there for him and hope he’d come to her when he was ready to talk.
That day came the day of Bryan’s funeral. National news had been covering the plane crash exclusively and that extended to the funerals of the victims. They showed footage from Bryan’s funeral, including parts of the eulogy his widow, Vanessa, gave, and put pictures of the once happy couple and the newborn son Bryan never got to meet on the screen as her words played in the background.
It was the pictures of the baby that broke down the carefully constructed walls Kelly had put up.
Stella had run into the living room at the sound of breaking glass. She saw Kelly’s hands shaking, glass from his broken beer bottle on the floor beside him. She hurried over to him and cupped his cheeks. “Hey, talk to me, please.”
And he did.
Like word vomit, Kelly told Stella everything running through his mind. He talked about how happy and thankful he was to be alive and home with her but those feelings were always accompanied by crippling guilt that he had survived when so many others had not. The biggest thing bothering him had been Bryan.
“I gave him the seat because he needed to get home and be there for his wife and their new baby. The backup flight would’ve gotten him to the hospital in time, or at the very least alive.” Kelly said quietly. “But I let him have the seat and now his son has to grow up without a father.”
“Hey, look at me.” Stella waited until Kelly’s weary eyes were on her before she started speaking again. “What happened to Bryan and the others was tragic and unimaginable but you are not to blame. You gave him a chance to get home to his family and I’m so sorry that wasn’t able to happen. You did a good thing and I know Bryan was grateful you gave him the chance.”
Kelly sniffled and ran a hand over his face. “I’m tired Stella. I don’t want to feel like this forever.”
“I know,” Stella answered softly. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “And you won’t. We’ll get you some help, get you someone to talk to, and you’ll be okay. I’ll be here with you, every step of the way. I promise.”
Despite the overwhelming and conflicting thoughts and emotions crashing over him, Kelly found himself believing what Stella was saying. She always saw the best in him—always believed in him—and if she thought he could get through this then maybe he could.
#febwhump#sev whump#kelly severide#stella kidd#stellaride#mayday mayday#chicago fire#girlinlotsoffandomsfics
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So... It's been a hot minute (sorry, life and mental illness decided to exist), take this sneak peek at the fanfiction I've been working on as compensation!
Now introducing!!!
Redeemed The Loser
Please do not repost to other sites without permission!! <33
~~~~~~
"Final vote," the cursed fortune teller started, "Ocean Rosenberg."
She turned, confused, only to be met with her frozen friends, and a red eyed machine staring. "Huh?"
"It has been decided that you shall have the final vote."
She stared, "Over what?"
"Who lives or dies." It replied, as if she was an idiot.
She paused. "I thought we all had to vote on that? That's what you told us."
"I've decided the final vote will come down to the one with the highest grade point average. You are the winner." The machine explained, sarcasm dripping from its speakers.
"That doesn't strike me as very fair" she muttered under her breath, staring down at her shoes, allowing her hair to form a ginger curtain around her eyes.
"In 5 minutes, all bets are off."
"What happens in 5 minutes?" She lifted her head.
"My appointment with a rat named Virgil, and then my death." It looked forward, as if to an audience that had suddenly appeared in the abandoned warehouse. "After that, I'm not entirely sure."
"And if I choose anyone, anyone at all, what is the moral? If I choose anyone- If I choose for someone to stay, the moral of the story is that humans suck!"
It paused, as if to think about its reply, "That would be a valid interpretation, yes."
She started to pace, staring at her friends faces, that were stuck in time. "No, no, no we're going to honor the original agreement. We will all vote on who has to stay." She stomped up to the horrid machine, and paused as the curtains of the abandoned carnival stage opened, with a blinding light. "What's that?"
"The other side. You merely walk in. It's easy. Just don't look back" it refused to look at her, even as she stepped away, denying the unfair reward. She stared at the curtains as they closed, before observing the faces of her friends, who still hadn't moved an inch. "I don't mean to rush you, but Time is pressing-"
She jumped in, "Look, if you could kindly step off for three seconds!" She exploded, before going back to her observation in thought. "The one who wants to win it the most shall redeem the loser - in order to complete the whole." She repeated the machine's words from what felt like a lifetime ago, realizing what had been said. "You knew all along I could never do it." She stated.
"What" the machine spat the word as if it was acid.
"Choose myself." She paused again, looking as her friends started to move once more, but already knowing what she should choose. "It shouldn't be me." She looked away, unsure if her friends had realized what she was doing. And not wanting to be swayed in a different direction. "We all died young. By total accident. But to say that if one dies young, they die needlessly? That is to discount the years they had. The experiences they had. I would gladly take my 17 years over nothing. Who do I say should go? Them." She turned back at her friends, her vote already cast on the ballot, "I lived my life, learned the lesson of my story. They still need to learn theirs. They still need to finish their stories. That's my vote. Motion carried. Democracy rocks." She finished, staring out towards the empty warehouse, with a hand on her waist, and the other in the fist above her head. A childish move, fit for someone who has died a child.
"Ocean, what the hell? What did you just do?" Constance shot forward, as she put her hands down, quickly finding her friend's hands weighing heavy on her shoulders.
"What I had to, Connie." She had said the nickname that she had hardly used for the past 8 years, not wanting negativity to be her last moment with her best friend.
"Why did you choose yourself? You have so much you want to do. You've told me your entire life plan! Why would you-"
"I said it already." She cut off the Blackwood from her spiral. "I found the moral. The lesson. Your story isn't finished yet, Constance. None of yours are." She looked back, at the rest of her friends, who looked as shocked as Constance sounded. "Go and write it for me. Find your lessons." She gently pushed her shocked friend towards the rest, not wanting them to miss their opportunity. "Live your lives for me. I got to know you... Rockstars. That's more than enough for me" the choir had stepped into the curtain, without even realizing it. The pathway closed, leaving nothing but a ginger, an abandoned machine, and a rat.
"As you wish." The machine spoke. Ocean stared at the curtain, nervous for what unknown would follow.
"Their names are Penny Lamb, born April 7th, Aries, the lucky nature. Ricky Potts, born June 5th, Gemini, the dual nature. Mischa Bachinski, born August 18th, Leo, sign of aggression. Noel Gruber, born March 5th, Pisces, sign of passion. And Constance Blackwood, born November 14th, Scorpio, the secret nature."
She breathed a sigh of relief, turning from the curtain as it lit up with a countdown, not wanting to see what was to follow. She had an eerie feeling that it would portray her death, and her friends survival. It went on for a while, so she sat on the floors beneath her, still somehow covered in dust despite having been danced and walked on for what felt like the past hour and a half. But as she breathed, and reflected on her time, the lights in the warehouse began to flicker.
"And now you're probably wondering, what happens next." The machine paused, as the box it was held in began to thrash. "That, I couldn't possibly tell you." She stood, walking forward to see what was happening. "But I do know this for certain." It continued, the machine inside thrashing around, as she noticed a rat behind the box, shaking with electrical power. "After reading thousands of human fortunes" she walked closer, before deciding to push the machine's lever one final time. "My final insight is" it continued to trash, before freezing as the lever finally met the bottom of it's turn. "Your lucky number is 7, you will get a promotion, you will soar to great heights, be sure to ride the Cyclone!"
It popped up to give it's final fortune, facing forward, just as it had in life. Smoke rose from behind the machine, which caused Ocean to stumble away. Before she could even say anything, the curtain her friends had just passed through mere minutes ago, opened once more. The light still glowing bright.
She flicked her eyes between the fortune telling machine and the 'other side', needing to make a decision, and fast, if the increasing amount of smoke was any indicator. She sprinted towards the curtain, praying that it wouldn't ruin what she had already chosen, even as the light blinded her.
Suddenly, she was falling. And she closed her eyes, as the light only got brighter. But as quickly as it blinded, the light switched to dark. Ocean permitted herself to open her eyes again, hesitant to see what afterlife 'other side' had taken her to.
"Wait," she said out loud, despite not meaning to, "so that's what my part looked like?!" She exclaimed, staring at her dead body slumped over the front, before it finally clicked. "I'M A GHOST?" She screamed, floating above the carnage of the crash, staring down through her transparent fingertips.
~~~~~~
So yeah, it's just an au with a couple of changes
- One person stays, everyone else goes to live beyond the Cyclone accident.
- Ocean chooses herself as the sacrifice and comes back as a ghost
- And some miscellaneous small and big changes to canon dialogue
^•^
And some extra details!
Stray Dog Theater had the rest of the choir stuck in their bumper pose during Ocean's decision. I thought it was super impactful, and really brought out the character development of Ocean, so I decided to keep that here. Except, they're all stuck in the position they were in when Karnak decided on who got the final vote.
It's called "Redeemed The Loser" bc that's what Ocean does. She redeems herself as the loser. (Redeems as in "compensate for the faults or bad actions of something", "do something that compensates for past poor performance or behavior ", and "atone or make amends for") she compensates for her horrible actions and poor behavior, and makes amends with the fact that it happened, and that she needs to make up for that. She chooses herself to stay to make up for it (even if in the show she chooses Jane to go, for the same reason) Idk the prophecy has always been weirdly impactful to me, and not talked about enough, imo.
Also, final few notes, this will be poly!choir, bc as I've said before, I have basically one brain cell, and two of them are dedicated to poly!choir. And also, once again, please do not repost this on other sites without permission! My DMs and ask box are open if you'd like to ask any questions, or see if you can repost it.
(Also there will be more updates in the future, but they'll likely be an AO3 link, so if you like this, please keep an eye out)
Anyways, happy new year! And be sure to ride the cyclone!!! <333🎢
#ride the cyclone#rtc#ride the cyclone musical#ride the cyclone fanfiction#ocean rtc#ocean o'connell rosenberg#ocean ride the cyclone#ocean oconnell rosenberg#rtc ocean#the amazing karnak#karnak#karnak rtc#Redeemed The Loser#< I'll be posting under this tag basically if you want to keep updated :)#rtc au
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PARTIES: @2fast2furyous @uncannysam TIMING: Early December SUMMARY: On a chance encounter in Gatlin Fields, Gia and Sam experience just how bad the fog can be at midnight. WARNINGS: None!
It’s late at night at a mysterious and creepy wishing well that is inhabited by a demon - what could possibly go awry?
Growing up, Gia always heard the strange stories of the local Wishing Well. Kids, herself included, would go out to the fields and dare one another to do outlandish and risky shit near the well. It never seemed to happen when she had been out there, but people would talk about seeing eyes at the bottom of the well peering up at them. One time a kid died out there. Most people said it was the stupidity of trying to do a handstand on an old well but the people that had been there, the ones willing to talk about it that is, told a different tale.
Gia hadn’t really thought about that place in years, but with the way she was feeling lately she had been going back through her mental list of dangerous thrill-seeking behaviors and had been trying to recreate them. She was truly growing so desperate to feel adrenaline pump through her veins, so desperate to feel anything except the building anger she felt every day.
It was late, and possibly very stupid, but she decided to head out towards Gatlin Fields to try and find the well. If she couldn’t get her blood pumping and her heart beating out of her chest, well fuck it maybe she could toss in a coin and wish for things to go back to the way they used to be. It had been a clear night, but as she headed towards where she remembered this place to be the woods gradually became blanketed in fog. Even just that - being out there in the middle of the night with nothing but the darkness surrounding her, Gia didn’t feel anything. Not even a second of fear.
Without a clear sense of where she was going it had started to feel like she was simply wandering, but then she saw the top of the well peeking out from the fog. As Gia approached it she heard something strange. “Hello?” She called out without thought, wondering if maybe she wasn’t actually alone in this darkness.
---
It wasn’t that Sam was out looking for trouble. No, she had just decided to take a trip out to Gatlin Fields to see about getting some fresh milk and other produce from the local farms around. She had been going with her father since she was a little girl and had carried on the tradition herself as an adult. Plus, Mr. Rivera sold some of the best chocolate milk she had ever tasted. It was something she had turned Zach, her best friend since childhood, onto as well. In fact, the last time she had been out here was with him, but tonight, she was riding solo, except for Scout, who was close by her side in the 1976 fully remodeled Ford Bronco Zach had helped her rebuild. A passion project shared between the two after her beat up, junker of a car was on its last leg. They had finished merely months before his death.
“Scout, you ready to head home? I think we’ve been out long enough, and it’s creepy when it gets dark here.” Sam ran her hand through his soft, orange colored fur, as she started the engine. Grabbing her phone, she pulled up Spotify and put on a random playlist as “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone blasted through the speakers. Putting the truck in drive, she started moving down the gravel road headed back towards town.
“Come and get your love! Come and get your love!” Her voice carried through the car as Scout looked up at her confused, “What? You don’t like my singing, Boy?” She laughed and set her eyes back on the road in front of her, but the further she drove, the more the fog had settled, and before long, Sam found herself pulling off at the next turn and putting her truck in park. As many times as she had been out here, she knew where she was going, but something had felt off. And even Scout could sense the worry and change in her demeanor.
As Sam went to grab her phone, she noticed the music had cut out and stopped playing and when she pulled up Maps, there was no service. Fuck. Looking around and trying to peer through the fog, she couldn’t see a damn thing, “I don’t like this, Boy. Maybe we can sit here a little while and see if it clears out some.” It was the last place she wanted to be, but the doors were locked and she had extra blankets in the backseat that she had always kept on hand.
Reaching back and snagging a couple, Sam pulled them over her and Scout and shut off the engine to save gas, and after looking at her phone for a few minutes, put it down and without much effort, dozed off.
The voice had cut through the silence like a familiar whisper and had woken her up from a dream she had been tangled up in, “Zach?” Sam looked around letting her eyes adjust when she realized her and Scout were still out in the middle of nowhere and the fog was now just as heavy. Quickly grabbing her phone, she glanced down at the time, “Fuck! We’ve been here for several hours!” The clock was pushing midnight, and as she went to start the engine to try and press on, Sam heard a voice calling out to her again.
“Scout, stay here. I’m gonna go see if that’s somebody who can help us.” Against her better judgment and pulling the keys out of the ignition, Sam pushed the blankets off of her and zipped up her coat. As she climbed out of the Bronco, she glanced back at her dog, “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” With the doors locked tight and Scout safe inside, Sam disappeared into the fog trying to follow the mysterious voice for answers.
---
Out this deep in the fields, this late at night, Gia hadn’t expected to hear the distinctive creaking of a car door opening in response to her call. Granted, she didn’t really know what she had expected to hear. That was followed by the sound of a voice coming from the same direction but it was so soft-spoken that she couldn’t make out any of the words. Then she heard the car door shut and her body tensed up and her fists clenched as she prepared for the worst. The fog that surrounded her was so thick and unforgiving. The noises she heard weren’t that far away yet she could hardly see beyond her outstretched arms.
“Who’s out there?” Not wanting to be a sitting duck, she kept moving through the fog hoping to find the well or the other person - people? - out there before they found her. Not that she didn’t think she could handle herself, shoutout to grandma Phuong for putting her in martial arts classes since she was old enough to walk. Gia just didn’t want the trouble. “It’s late. You should just … get back in your car and head outta here.” Just as she finished that sentence her back bumped up against something, or maybe more accurately someone? She turned around quickly, ready to react, only to find herself face-to-face with a brunette. Whoever she was, she was the type of familiar face that Gia couldn’t really place. “What are you doing out here?”
---
By the time Sam had taken no more than a few steps forward, she had already lost sight of the truck and Scout through the dense fog. “Great. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.” With a sigh, she pulled her phone out and turned on the flashlight, but it was no use; only creating a wall of white haze in front of her. Shutting it off, she shoved it back into her jacket pocket, until she heard a voice. Follow the voice. Just follow the voice. Get out of my head, Zach, with your creepy fucking ideas. Though she knew the imagined voice was probably right, since it would at least lead her forward to someone who might be able to help.
As she continued deeper into her mission to find the mysterious person out in the fog (probably not the smartest idea), she heard the voice again, a little clearer now, and without realizing it, she felt herself hitting something before a person – a woman – was standing right in front of her, which caused her to jump, “Shit! You scared me…” It took Sam a minute to adjust and process the question, “Huh? Oh, I was out here getting some vegetables and got lost in the fog. Thought I might find someone who could help me and my dog find our way back to town. What are you doing out here?” She had only seen Gia when she was with Zach, but then it hit her, “Gia? Is that you?”
---
If her heart had been capable of doing so, Gia knew that it would be beating out of her chest right now. She had built up in her head that the owner of the mysterious voice in the fog was going to be a threat but instead … she knew her name? Well this was a bit awkward, she thought, trying to rack her brain for how she knew this woman. Her first thought was the other daredevil minded people she used to hang out with out in these fields, but that wasn’t right. Then, almost as if she could sense the lingering pain, it clicked. “Sam?” She responded, hoping that she correctly remembered the name of Zach’s friend who had always hung around. She hadn’t seen her in a few months, not since Zach died.
Gia felt like she could understand the anger that was radiating off of the other woman. It was a painful anger, diluted only softly by the passing of time no doubt. Death wasn’t something that Gia had ever been uncomfortable with, given her family’s necromancy, however she never quite knew what to say to someone who lost a loved one forever. “I went to the funeral.” Was that a weird way to breach the topic? “Lotta us did. Some of the crew, I mean. It’s all competition on the pavement but… racing community’s small and he was a real stand up.” She never really knew how Zach had died and despite wanting to know, Gia knew this wasn’t the time or the place.
“Dog?” Gia finally asked, looking down and not seeing one nearby. “Please don’t tell me your dog is lost in this fog.” As she looked around, the fog had completely warped her sense of direction and she no longer had any recollection as to where the sound of Sam’s car door had come from. She didn’t know if it was irony or, perhaps, fate that her intention had been to come out here to be alone and now she had run into someone she knew who clearly needed help. “Why on earth were you gathering vegetables in the woods this late at night anyway?”
---
Since Zach had died, it was as if most days hadn’t been real. Sam was merely moving day in and day out just trying to take things slowly, but the thoughts and guilt that raced through her mind often left her struggling. And the few months of grief therapy she had done seemed to help for a little while until her new found “mutant abilities” had popped up. Of course, she was still trying to decide if it was all in her head, and she was losing her mind or if this had all been real. But everything had seemed like a blur now anyways, so did it honestly matter? That’s your depression talking, Sam. Snap out of it.
When Gia finally recognized her, it was a relief confirming that she had gotten Zach’s friend right. But at the same time, the mention of his funeral and just his life in general had caused the woman to get quiet. To feel like she was sinking into a void, just like the fog the two had currently been surrounded by, as guilt tried to creep in on her, “Uh, yeah. He was a great guy, and I loved him like a brother.” Sam couldn’t help but chew on her bottom lip out of nervousness, just grateful for when the subject had changed to Scout, “Yeah, Scout. And no, he’s not. He’s back in my truck safe and sound. I wasn’t about to bring him out into this…whatever this is.” She glanced back in the direction she thought her truck had been in, not too sure anymore. “I wasn’t gathering them. I bought them and some fresh milk from a couple of local farmers and got lost when the fog started rolling in earlier. Thought it would clear out if I waited and ended up falling asleep. But you never answered my question. Why are you out here?”
---
The silence that fell after Gia’s mention of the funeral made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. It was as though the mere mention of it caused a palpable response in Sam, not quite one of true anger but something distinctly adjacent to it. It was, ultimately, still a complete mystery to Gia as to why she felt so linked to deeply angry and vengeful emotions ever since her own death. Not only was it practically all she could feel herself, but it was also something she could feel coming from others. She hated it. All she wanted to do was ease that anger when she came across it but it felt like such an impossible task. “Sorry. I - I don’t know why I said that. I just… I’m real sorry for your loss.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” In all honesty, Gia had no idea if it was better for the dog to be lost in the fog within a locked car or if it was better for it to be lost but out in the open. The latter option would at least lend itself to some call and response shit. “Fog out this way is wicked heavy. Always has been. It’s disorienting for sure.” Sam’s reason for getting stuck out here at least made a bit of sense, Gia’s was objectively foolish. “I just come out here sometimes. Or, I used to. Ya know - dumb kids just running around town looking for something exciting to cut through the everyday bullshit. Stupid I’m sure, but I was just, I dunno…” she sighed and shook her head softly, an acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of what she was saying. “Just wanted to feel like I did back then.” She knew that there was no real need to add that last sentence, and in doing so she felt a bit exposed. Maybe it was because Sam reminded her of the people she used to do dumb shit like this with. “This shit isn’t gonn clear up any bit before morning. Any chance you brought your car keys with you?”
---
Sam nodded softly at Gia’s apology. Coming to Wicked’s Rest as a child and leaving everyone you ever knew behind – aunties, uncles, cousins – only to have your parents with you had been hard. Everything Samantha had ever known had been taken away, and while she didn’t quite understand it as a child, she had grown to understand it when she was an adult. But in that time, she had also come to know a little boy and his family who had taken her in and made her feel welcome and wanted in such a strange and unfamiliar place. And as the years passed and they grew closer, Sam started to find that Wicked’s Rest was like a home to her now. She had still missed her family greatly, but life didn’t feel so hard anymore, and on the days when it was, there he was waiting for her. But she had failed him and in doing so, it felt like she had broken one of the number one rules of what she was taught. Loyalty and to be there for those you loved. So when Gia had unexpectedly brought up Zach, it had both struck a nerve, but also evoked an immense sadness that she had worked very hard to suppress each day.
“Yeah. I can’t lose Scout. I’ve been coming out here for years with my dad, but I don’t think we were ever here past dark. He had a strict rule of us leaving this place, before the sun went down. Something about the vibe of it didn’t set right with him, and still doesn’t.” She knew exactly what Gia had meant though. There was a desire in wanting to be a kid again and feeling what you felt when you were little. Sam felt that most days, especially now that it was just her again, besides her dog and her parents, “I get it. Childhood seems easier in retrospect.” She let out a soft sigh, before digging around in her pockets, “Yeah, why?” Holding up the keys, she revealed they were basic. Nothing special. No keyfob. Just a set of keys to an old, suped up remodeled truck from the 70s.
---
“Scout, that’s a cute name.” Gia always felt a connection to animals, even though her parents never let her have one growing up. A lot of the dead things she would bring back to life in the early days of her necromancy practice were pets - people so willing to trade the life of one animal for another. Sometimes her brother would say that bringing pets back to life was a waste and that people should just get another one instead of going through the strain of necromancy. Gia didn’t really agree, she saw the way some people’s pets were parts of their family.
“Well, nighttime is when things go bump,” Gia joked with a smirk, hoping to relieve any of the tension that seemed to be building. “But, uh, I’ve been out here at night more than a few times. Always make my way back home.” Her gaze fell on the old school keys that Sam pulled out of her pocket, scrunching up her face a bit as she tried to think of a plan B. “Shit, was hoping you’d have a fob so we could just follow the beeps and flashing lights back.” Gia definitely had a guess about which direction she had come from but she’d also been out in this fog before - it twists and turns in unexpected ways. “Well, we’re def not gonna find it just standing here. I say we walk that way,” she said as she pointed to the right, “until we hit something. You down?”
---
“Thanks. It was Zach’s idea.” Sam didn’t want to speak much about Zach. At least not right now. Everything had still felt fresh at times and try as she might, getting him out of her head most days was hard. But tonight, they had something else to focus on – this fog. If they didn’t get out, it was going to be a longer night than it already was, and the idea of leaving Scout alone in the truck for that long didn’t sit well with Sam for multiple reasons. And if she didn’t get back to him soon, she knew he’d start howling for her. A possible beacon back to the truck, but considering she had sworn she had heard Zach’s voice earlier, not necessarily a guarantee.
“Apparently daytime too…” It was more so under her breath, but with all the strange things that she had been seeing lately, she didn’t want to have to explain herself, so she had hoped that Gia hadn’t noticed, “Really? Well this shouldn’t be a problem then. You really think I’m gonna have a fancy car with all the bells and whistles? I own a hole-in-the-wall comic book shop and sleep upstairs.” Sam was in defense mode, but only because she was starting to get nervous. “Sorry, I think my nerves are starting to get to me…But yeah, walking is better than standing here especially because it’s fucking –” Sam’s attention was caught by the same familiar voice that had led her out of the truck in the first place, “cold…” Turning around distracted by what sounded like her best friend, she narrowed her eyes, “You hear that?”
---
Without even meaning to, Gia had brought Zach up again. Growing up in a town like Wicked’s Rest almost guaranteed that you would lose at least one loved one far too soon. Gia remembered the first time one of her friends died - it was in middle school. She hadn’t been best friends with the other girl but they were close. And then one day she stopped coming to school. The story was that she had drowned while swimming, but Gia’s older sister Tiên had told her the truth; the girl had been killed by a nix.
Gia knew what the story was about how Zach had died but ever since middle school she had grown weary of believing in seemingly natural deaths. “Oh damn, I don’t think I realized you owned the shop. That’s fucking cool.” Gia shrugged at the implication and laughed a bit, “First of all, it is 2023, a keyfob does not count as fancy bells and whistles anymore. Second, look at the crew you run with. I wouldn’t put it past you to have something with at least a couple’a bells.”
She had sort of been hoping that they could maybe settle into a conversation about cars after that, maybe talk about what she drove and shit like that. Instead, Sam seemed… distracted. “Yeah. Really cold,” Gia parroted, even though the air around them was significantly warmer than her own skin was. She looked around in the directions that Sam was but Gia didn’t hear whatever it was that she was. “I…I don’t. What does it sound like? If it’s a car we might be close to the road. If there’s someone else out here,” she paused only slightly as her mind jumped to the worst conclusion, “maybe they can help us get back to your car.”
---
Sam heard everything Gia was saying, but couldn’t help but shrug it off. The voice was more enticing than she had realized, especially considering it sounded exactly like Zach. Was he still alive? Had he escaped somehow? That couldn’t be possible though. He was dead. She saw it happen. Watched those things suck the life out of him all while she stood by and let it happen. But if there was a chance he was still out there, she had to find out right? She couldn’t just let this opportunity slip away. No, she had to check. Besides, she wasn’t alone. Gia was with her, and Scout was locked safely in the truck. What was one little detour?
“It sounds like…Um…like him.” Sam couldn’t put into words her disbelief, but maybe he was leading them to safety. Had to be right? Zach wouldn’t play a joke this cruel on her would he? If she did, she’d kick his ass when she reached him. But something seemed off about the whole situation. Her intuition and all the tales she had been told growing up. The warnings and fear instilled in her to keep her safe, “He…Zach…he wouldn’t lead us into trouble. I know he wouldn’t. I think he’s trying to get us back to safety.”
Without hesitating any longer, Sam began to walk forward towards the voice calling her name. The fog was heavy and thick, and with each step she took, she made sure it was with caution. You could never be too careful out here, especially with a wall of haze blocking your path. But the voice was soon becoming much clearer the closer she got to it. Just a little closer, and she would reach him…
---
Even though she had a vague sense of who Sam meant when she said him, Gia had sincerely hoped that she was gonna say it sounded like the dog or her dad or … literally anyone other than her dead friend. But then she said the name and she just knew that whatever the hell this was it was very likely to lead them into trouble. Practically a guarantee. “Sam…” she wanted to be gentle, to respect that this could be a part of her grief, “It can’t be.”
Part of her did wonder, however. After all she had died and yet she was still around, still a person. Well, maybe not a person. But she was flesh and blood and, well no not blood either it seemed. But none of that mattered, because Zach had died for real. There was a funeral and a body. “I really don’t think that we should follow whatever voice you hear. I don’t hear it. Sometimes out here… I dunno our minds play tricks on us.”
Gia began to worry about what might be out there with them. It wasn’t the kind of feeling she was hoping to feel that evening, but it was something. She stayed close to Sam’s side, trying to figure out how to get out of the fog. Had she not been so preoccupied she may have wondered why exactly Sam seemed so willing to think that Zach might be out there. The fog seemed to reach out for Sam as if it was intentionally moving, trying to pull her deeper and separate the pair from one another. “Sam, look at me! Hey!” She shouted, hoping that she might be able to break whatever trance she seemed to be in. Swinging her arms around, Gia tried to get the fog to dissipate but it wasn’t working.
---
Sam could no longer focus on Gia. All she wanted was to reach Zach. To know that he was okay. If she hadn't just stood back that night, he still might have been around. He still might have been with his family and with her. Sam was too prideful to admit that she was lonely. She was too prideful to admit that she had been scared shitless the night he was killed. She acted tough in retrospect and had always stuck up for him in the past, but that night had been different. And maybe now was the chance for her to make amends and to know that he was okay.
As she continued to move forward, she clung to the hope that the voice luring her further away from Scout and reality was indeed her best friend, but suddenly Sam felt something wrap around her leg and jerk her downward, snapping her out of the trance she was in. Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, she looked around desperately trying to find something to grab as it began pulling her forward, “Gia?! GIA WHERE ARE YOU!?!”
Sam reached out her fingers digging into the grass desperately hoping that whatever this was would just let her go. This was definitely not Zach. But it was something, and with all she had seen within the past few months since gaining her new “sight”, she knew it wasn’t something friendly, “Fuck! I’m sorry! I just wish we were back at the truck!”
---
One second Gia was trying to pull Sam’s attention towards her and the next Sam had practically disappeared. Her screams could be heard clearly, though. It was the type of sound that would have sent a chill down her spine if such a sensation was even possible. Her eyes followed the sounds to see Sam getting pulled down towards the ground but she couldn’t see through the fog to tell who - or what - was doing the pulling. It felt like the fog was trying desperately to block Gia out and something told her that if Sam got out of her sight entirely that she may never see her again.
Without thinking about all of the shit that could hit the fan, Gia dropped down and reached out for Sam’s extended arms. She didn’t know how strong whatever was on the other side was but she just hoped that the muscles she had developed through years of mechanic work would be good enough. The air was thick with a wild swirl of emotions that Gia could practically taste. Sam’s grief was so palpable, having let her be lured in by the mere thought of seeing Zach. There was also so much frustration pulsating around her, seemingly caused by the realization that she had let that grief cause her to walk straight towards danger.
When Gia grabbed onto Sam’s forearms something happened, something new and a bit terrifying. As she made contact she heard Sam’s words echoing in her mind, I just wish we were back at the truck! Suddenly Gia could see that happening, she saw them out of the fog and santing before Sam’s truck. It wasn’t just a thought though, it was like she was seeing it on a screen projected against the fog. All she had to do was just reach out and touch it…
After she did, in an instant she stumbled backwards. There was nobody else grabbing hold of Sam’s legs and without that counterforce, Gia fell back onto her ass. The fog was gone and the screams were replaced by the slightly muffled sound of a dog barking. “Sam? Fuck… are you good?”
---
Feeling herself being pulled into the darkness, Sam could only imagine that the same fear she had at that very moment, was what Zach must have felt the night he had died. Maybe it was penance for not helping him. Maybe it was her turn; her punishment to be sucked away into the dark never to see the light of day again. But before she could dwell on it anymore and try to make peace with what was happening, she felt Gia’s hands and with a tight grip refused to let go. If this was it, then so be it. Closing her eyes tightly, she waited for the end to come.
Eyes still squeezed together, Sam felt her body plummet to the ground with a thud and the escape of an oof. If this was the end, why did she hear a dog barking? A dog that sounded like…Scout!? Followed by Gia’s voice! Opening her eyes slowly, she looked around to see Gia sitting on the ground, and as her eyes adjusted, she noticed that the fog was no longer blanketing over her surroundings. It was just her, Gia, the truck, and Scout.
“What the…fuck?” Pushing herself up off the ground, she looked around in disbelief, “Gia…are we…did we? Is this the Spirit World? How are we here right now?” Sam couldn’t wrap her head around it. One minute she was being pulled by an invisible force into the shadows and next, she was back at her truck without any fog in sight. Was this a part of her new gift of sight? Or was this something else? Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she had finally gone to sleep, and just hadn’t woken back up yet. Whatever it was, she was hoping the woman next to her could give her some answers.
---
Gia truly had no idea what had just happened, what she had just done. It had to have been her, didn’t it? It couldn’t have been a coincidence that she saw this outcome and then it just happened. The fog had been doing nothing but getting thicker until just seconds earlier and now there was not even a soft haze surrounding them. Sam’s question about a Spirit World caught her off guard, and she didn’t really know how to respond. That seemed… unlikely. Gia would know if she had died a second time, wouldn’t she? She hardly realized it the first time, though. “No.. we’re just,” she paused a bit as she looked around. “The fog cleared.”
She wasn’t certain in her response, and her tone gave that away no doubt. Was it possible that Sam’s truck had been that close the whole time and the fog was just so thick that they didn’t realize? Why hadn’t they heard Scout barking then? Gia stood up, dusting the dirt off the back of her jeans with her hands. She had been taught by her family to always downplay, to rationalize the mystical to those who didn’t know about it. Just as she was about to do that, Gia couldn’t help but wonder if Sam actually fell into that category of people who didn’t know.
“I don’t know how we’re here. I…,” Gia stopped short of explaining her thoughts about what had occurred. It was hard enough to admit certain things to herself let alone say them outloud. “I don’t know. But I kinda think we should get the fuck out of here. Reaching her arm down to help Sam up, Gia noticed that for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel so tired. In fact, she almost felt… good? Had this been enough of a scare to pump some life into her? She genuinely didn’t want that to be the answer because if someone she knew had to almost die for her to feel alive then she would rather feel dead forever. “Come on, I know how to direct us back to the main roads from here.”
---
Sam’s eyes stayed trained on Gia, occasionally looking back up at the truck and then out to where the thick fog once lay. She was still in disbelief from the whole situation. Whatever was watching out for them both had saved their lives. Though she was pretty certain people would think she was making up everything, she knew what she had heard and even more so of what she had felt. And without hesitating, she pulled up her pants leg to see marks around her ankle where she had been pulled. There was no denying it.
But Gia was right. Staying here any longer was something Sam didn’t want to experience, so when she saw the other woman offering out her hand, she took it without any hesitation, “I agree. Fuck this place. I’m never coming out this way again, if I can avoid it. I knew there was something off. I’ve felt it practically my whole life.”
Sam dug in her pocket for the keys to the truck and moved towards it, “I’ll unlock the passenger's side door.” Once she was in the truck, she was bombarded by an overjoyed Scout who was giving her kisses, “Hey! It’s okay, boy. I’m here. I’m safe, but we gotta let Gia in okay, so we can get the fuck outta here.” When Scout had settled, Sam leaned over and unlocked the door, holding onto the dog to make sure he didn’t try to jump out, “I promise he doesn’t bite, but he may give you kisses. Just let me know when you’re in and good to go.” With her freehand, she put the keys into the ignition and started the engine; the truck with the loud muffler roaring to life.
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sad rambling don't mind me
The passage of time just doesn’t feel real, man. Alaska would have turned 24 today. The last time I can distinctly remember seeing her alive she was newly 15.
It’s just this weird thing of like, yeah, I don’t think about it all the time anymore, not the way I did when it was really recent, but little things do still remind me of her. I can’t believe how close it’s getting to a decade since she's been gone.
It came up when Emme and I were talking about her a few weeks ago, but at the time she felt so grown up to us. I was a year older than her, but back then she managed to feel so mature regardless. She would nerd out with us (The last time we actually hung out was at the con the college in our town used to hold), but she also did all these grown-up things with people we didn't know—she'd tell us stories about it all though, she just seemed so cool. But god, she was a kid. A kid! Just a kid. She was 15. She was a kid. We all were kids.
So much of high school is honestly just a blur when I think back to it now, but things related to this are so distinct it's kinda scary.
Like, it’s been nearly 9 years! But I can still remember the exact seat in Jenny’s 1st period mechanical physics class I was sitting in when that first announcement about her attempt and coma went out over the loud speaker, it didn’t use her name or anything but just alerted everyone at the school that this had happened to a student. I already knew, I'd known for a few days, and I knew the announcement was probably going to happen that day, so it wasn’t a surprise. Our other friend got to stay home, but I had too many absences so my mom wouldn’t let me. I was in a class of mostly upperclassmen (only three of us were in my grade, nobody in Alaska's), and no one else in the room knew her or at least seemed to know this was about her, it was just whispers and speculation and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I broke down in tears in front of my math teacher the following period when he asked me about the homework I hadn't done and in hindsight it was almost kinda funny, because he just did not know what to do.
I remember sitting at Lily's house on the couch with her and Emme—having a sleepover to work on cosplay because that's what we did back then—when Lily's mom came home in the middle of the night and we knew something was wrong. And we got told the news that she'd passed a few hours earlier.
I remember on the first birthday after she passed, Emme and I went to the park across the street from the high school to let go of balloons. It had snowed recently, but we wanted to be in the center of the park, because otherwise they'd get stuck in the trees, so we trekked our way out there and laid on our jackets in the freezing cold and laughed and talked and cried.
I don’t know. I don’t know where I'm going with any of this, or what I’m trying to say. It's just like, time is supposed to make these things feel easier, and in a way I guess it does, but my brain just gets so focused on dates and anniversaries so every year when this day and the day she died roll around I still get hit with so much all at once.
(the anniversary of the day she died was particularly rough this past year because it was the same day Stranger Things Vol. 2 dropped and I went to a watch party thinking 'oh cool it'll be fun to watch this thing I like with my friends as a distraction' and promptly got punched in the fucking gut by what happened with Max, the hospital scene towards the end sent me spiraling for hours)
Anyways.
Happy Birthday, Alaska. I met you on a Tuesday afternoon in late August at the park I roller skate at now, two days after me and my mom finally called the cops on my dad and everything in my life changed. You were the first new friend I made after all that. I didn't get to know you for a long time, but you’re still on my mind even after all these years. I miss you. Happy Birthday.
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Deleted Scenes - 9/10/24
Magnolia
In January I got to see where/how he grew up. I always was the one who knew the least of these stories, maybe because as a kid I didn’t like “gossip” and as I got older they wanted to spare me what she should’ve also been spared.
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Everyone knew my grandma and was shocked she was still alive. She worked a lot of jobs her whole life and knew some medical stuff so she’d help out neighbors and take care (or "take care") of animals in the area too.
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One story she would always bring up was of the turtle she had as a kid, I think while she was still in spain but I'm not sure about that. The turtle loved music and if she put on a record hed slowly make his way over to listen right next to the speaker.
One day she came home and couldn't find the turtle. She looked everywhere and couldn't find him. Her neighbors invited them all over for dinner that night and the story is predictable from there (they cooked it and fed her the soup).
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He spent summers in a "country house". I always pictured the "country" as PA, but it was actually closer to marshland, and very near to the beach. We met some of the people he used to hunt in the marshes with and got to see their farm. Someone had broken into the farmhouse and stolen some stuff but they didnt find the chainsaw so his friend was happy. The guy himself was the older brother of his childhood best friend in that area.
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As kids, his best friend was known as this incredibly strong guy. They were mostly alone and hunted alot, but didnt have much money and only one guy had a gun, most of them used slingshots. The best friend was so strong he didn't use one at all. He would pick carrots out of the ground and throw them with pinpoint accuracy at birds and knock them clean out of the air. With terrible irony he died one of the worst deaths I've heard of, he got caught in a baby-carrot cutting machine.
My parents know a few people like this. Another was a professional window cleaner who had a career of like 10 years. After spending so long so high up he died falling off a 10 foot ladder and landing on a fire hydrant.
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When his older sister was ~20 his mother moved to the states to help her with her business which was kind of like a bodega but with a lot more food. Here my gma would basically be the main chef.
He was alone back home with his dad and his dad was a really strange guy. He always spoke well of him through my life, but it always sounded like he was a shallow figure compared to his mom. Now hes states that he sees his dad as having been a really good friend more than a dad.
He said that his dad loved his mom more than anything. His dad was constantly cheating on her though, traveling the country/neighboring countries. After his mom left, this left him completely alone.
He said that when he was young at the country house he would fall asleep alone holding his shotgun because of how scared he'd get. Sometimes his eldest sister would visit and bring him food, but otherwise for the summer he'd generally have to take care of himself. He speaks of the country like it was heaven.
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One summer, before his mom left, she visited from the city where she worked while he was in the country and told him his dog died. He got back to the main city at the start of the school year and found his dog walking around a different neighborhood with some kid. He screamed at the kid to give him his dog back and the kid said "listen I believe you but some lady had given him to me a few weeks ago". He confronted his mom and she said that the dog had been ruining her garden.
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The trip turned to shit after a solid first week. He got stressed about work, started to bully her, and kept doubling down until she snapped. It got so bad, I think it set the course for the year, they shouldnt be together without major change. They should've divorced long ago.
They were together since they first got here. He was the driver for one of her sister's dates. They were both ~18 and have been together over 40 years
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A few years ago he got a gun safe. While setting the password he made sure to tell me it since some are mine, and to have a backup in case something happened to him. She insisted to know the password
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A couple of weeks ago after we had too good of a weekend they get in a gnarly argument. He starts to pack a bag to stay at a hotel, things heat up. He said he didnt feel comfortable leaving him with the guns and wanted to change the password before he left. She said he was going to the safe for a gun. She hit him and called the cops. They helped him change the password and offered for him to press charges but he declined.
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She was the youngest of 13 and grew up in a hard time/place. Her family experienced/did just god awful things, I have no idea how shes alive, the amount of violence she's lived in is heart breaking.
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In July my friend and I were having a practice run for a barbeque. At the time i couldnt drink and wasn't smoking. I told my friend that one thing that was nice about being sober is that i don't have to worry about something terrible happening while being in a state that I can't respond easily "like if my grandma were to randomly go to the hospital".
That night he calls me and I'll never forget being annoyed because i thought he was worried that i didn't check-in on time. He told me his mom fell and was in the hospital.
Through July we'd stay with her. His sister's wouldn't come because of their relationships with her, he had to decide everything himself. I couldn't do more than keep him company. I was so proud of my sister. Being able to navigate the hospital like that, to take principled/thoughtful action while being pressured/misled to "just let the old person die".
She passed the last week of July, he was the only one with her. He thinks she was waiting for it to be just him, and that she was waiting for a moment that he looked away.
The funeral was the first weekend of august. He expected few people, but a ton came. Extended family we haven't seen for 15 years came. We worried about drama, but it was beautiful. My friends came. After the burial we went to the childhood restaurant/one owned by my dad's friend. He invited everyone and we caught up. I met the person my grandma wanted to set me up with for so long. My dad was happy to get to know his (grand?) niece since he used to be really close to his niece who was like a little sister for him.
One person said when my sis and I were kids she took us for a walk outside during my cousin's baptism service. Random images came back so vividly from that day but they were just so specific and bizarre. I remember: we walked on this stone wall a bit, it was beautiful outside, it smelled of weird but pleasant chemicals inside, we played with mighty beans
Since she passed he has been struggling. He is more distracted, guilty, depressed. He resents her for stopping him from going on a trip to his home country with his mom while he could.
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When he was a kid she beat him a lot. She hit him so badly his eldest sister had to take him to the hospital once.
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She was basically raised by her sisters. Her mom was wed to her dad when she was 16 and him 40. She had been in love with an artist before the arrangement. The frequent childbirth took a permanent toll on her health and she was bedridden much of the time.
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When I was a kid he told me he wouldn't love me the same if I was gay. I had recently told him about an article where Josh Hutcherson said sth like he was bi just in case he fell in love with a man and how I thought that made so much sense hahah. He was my best friend though, it really killed something in me.
The first person I really loved was A. He wasn't very nice but he was charming, the smartest person in our class, and not just athletic but also COOL athletic (played hockey and was good at it). We spent the whole summer together playing basketball, biking around, and going to the pool. I'd get so jealous of the attention he got from girls, so jealous if he would hangout with other people when i couldnt go. I can feel the tightness in my chest from when we'd be getting ready for the pool. The constant comparison and desire. It wasn't a healthy love and I still struggle to not get this warped, but man I can still picture the sun in his hair.
Highschool was a constant boom-bust, I had a lot of fun doing whatever. I thought I'd kms and did whatever seemed fine. Eventually I settled on it but broke down to them and he choked me. He stopped and regretted it, but I don't think they ever fully forgave me for saying I wanted to die.
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In march she called me omw to a movie and told me she didn't want to live anymore. She said she really didnt want to go to her home country. We talked and I tried to go but she said she was safe/fine and wanted to be alone, but just really didnt want to do the trip.
I was having some work issues already so a couple days later I got shingles haha. Even my dentist had told me at that time that i needed to chill out because my clenching was rapidly changing my mouth.
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Too tired to write any more but i think this year has been tough, its felt good to walk through some of this. It sucked so bad for so many things. I learned so many terrible things that I'll never repeat (despite saying some things here lol), the depth of the pain they've experienced tears me apart.
They keep hurting us/themselves/eachother and its at a limit now where it feels like we missed our chance for anything reasonable, the latest issue feels too serious to come back from.
I love them so deeply, I want them to find peace in their lives so bad. I want us to be happy together, for them to get over their hangups before I have kids.
I want a stable love. I worry that I'll never be earnest with others, that I'll change myself for each context and every partner. I want to be loved as I am but have no strong identity and explicitly see it as romantic to lose myself for another. To "not be loved the same for X" means just as easily that i can be loved more if i dont do X, but it never feels right, I don't trust the love i get. I still hope that i can get straightened out and learn to. The one thing I know I've proven to myself is that I do have love to give but frankly if I don't change its better off kept private. I always wanted kids and now I finally feel the weight of it. Hopefully the therapy helps, hopefully i can be a little smarter and more disciplined, and more open, and more. Its worth it all
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