#and this way its truly left up to us what happens to these characters
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i think jack manifold really managed to perfectly sum up my thoughts on the dsmp. i miss it. but given the chance, i wouldnt want to do it again.
i think what made it special wasn't the story itself- though it was, and still is, amazing. Theres something poetic about a story that so heavily involved referring to parts of itself as an unfinished symphony to forever remain unfinished. We'll never get an ending to the egg arc. We'll never get an answer to the cryptic messages in Tubbo's lore.
And maybe thats okay. Because what made the dsmp special has always been the fandom. The people who dedicated so much time and mental space to what started as just a simple minecraft server. Everyone, from the people who created constant fanart and animatics, to the people who spectated and never even posted about it. We were what made it special.
We are why its still relevant. Theres people writing fanfics about endings to arcs that never got finished, or alternative ways storylines could've gone. People are making comics of possible epilogues for their favourite characters. People, even now, are theorising about the oftentimes cryptic and contradictory lore of the series.
And at its core, i believe thats what the dsmp is truly about. Community.
Ive joked about it a lot before, but i believe the dsmp truly is this eras homestuck. Not because theyre in any way the same. But because they both managed to bring together a widely criticised and hated fandom, that still brought happiness to the vast majority of people who engaged in it.
#dsmp#dreamsmp#dsmp lore#jack manifold#tagging him separately because he is what inspired this rant#long post#just. feeling very nostalgic about the dsmp right now#i wish we couldve gotten more#that we couldve seen things end the way they were supposed to#but i think im starting to be okay with the fact we wont#because in the end this story has always belonged to the fans#and this way its truly left up to us what happens to these characters
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i love you, in every time ŕżâ§â 1880 - labyrinth of my heart
chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.
word count: 9.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death
series masterlist - chapter 1 â chapter 3
Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, âyou shouldnât have fallen in love,â and âthe only people we can trust is each otherâ.
The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.
He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.
Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.
It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadnât lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way youâd brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring heâd never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.
He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where youâd once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since thenâjust going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didnât matter.
As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasnât the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.
It was you.
Loganâs heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years agoâmaybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.
For a moment, he couldnât move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.
Loganâs feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?
But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadnât seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the childrenâit was all you.
âExcuse me, miss,â he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.
You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in timeâlike the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.
âYes, can I help you?â you asked, your voice soft, kind.
Loganâs breath caught in his throat. He didnât know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that nowâsomehowâyou were standing in front of him again?
âI... I thought I knew you,â he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didnât trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.
You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. âI donât think weâve met before,â you said. âIâm Y/N. Iâm the schoolteacher here.â
Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldnât remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life youâd lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you werenât his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.
âIâm Logan,â he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldnât hide. He couldnât take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.
You nodded, offering another warm smile. âItâs nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?â
Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. âNo,â he said quietly. âNo, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.â
You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. âI get that sometimes. Chicagoâs a big city, but it can feel small.â
Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldnât tear his gaze away from you, couldnât shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracleâa second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?
Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. âIâm sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe Iâll see you around?â
Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldnât say.
For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didnât remember him, even if you didnât know who he was... he couldnât walk away. Not this time.
---
Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him backâfear that youâd think he was insane, or worse, that youâd reject him outright.
He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didnât know what to do with it.
It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these years���after so much painâhope could sneak its way back in. This wasnât just a coincidence. It couldnât be. Logan wasnât the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?
As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.
Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. Youâve been through worse.
But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.
âY/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?â Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.
You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. âCanât tonight, but Iâll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.â
Ida chuckled. âYouâll turn into an old maid before youâre thirty at this rate.â
You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chestâlike an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadnât heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.
As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say somethingâanything.
Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.
This is it. Now or never.
Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.
You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. âLogan, wasnât it?â
His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. âYeah. Logan.â
You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. âWhat brings you by?â
He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. âI... Iâve been meaning to talk to you.â
Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. âAbout what?â
Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.
âI... You remind me of someone,â he admitted, voice low. âSomeone I lost a long time ago.â
You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. âIâm sorry,â you said quietly. âThat mustâve been hard.â
Loganâs jaw clenched. âYeah,â he muttered. âIt was.â
There was a beat of silence between youâheavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldnât say. You didnât know him, didnât know what youâd meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.
âYou... wanna walk for a bit?â Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression mustâve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. âAlright.â
The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.
âSo, how long have you been in Chicago?â you asked, glancing over at him.
Logan shrugged. âNot long. Just passing through.â
You gave a small smile. âItâs a good place to get lost in for a while.â
He huffed a quiet laugh. âYeah. Guess so.â
The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after thatâsmall talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that youâd moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.
âIâve always liked working with kids,â you said with a soft smile. âThereâs something... hopeful about it, you know?â
Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in himâa flicker of warmth he thought heâd lost forever.
As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.
âThank you for the walk,â you said, your smile gentle. âIt was nice.â
Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldnât. âYeah. It was.â
For a moment, it felt like time stood stillâlike the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didnât remember him, didnât know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldnât let you slip away again.
âY/N...â he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You tilted your head, waiting.
He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. âCan I see you again?â
Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. âIâd like that.â
Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.
âGood,â he murmured.
And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believeâjust for a momentâthat maybe, just maybe, heâd found his way back to you.
---
You had taken up Idaâs offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasnât like it was out of the way for you.
âOh, hey! Thought you werenât gonna come by.â
You shrugged, taking off your shawl, âchanged my mind.â You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.
âIâm surprised you hadnât noticed him. Heâs been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.â
"Wait, what do you mean, âheâs been watching the schoolyard for weeks?ââ you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.
Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. âOh, donât get the wrong idea. He hasnât been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, thatâs all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, donât you think?â
You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. âA guy like what?â
âOh, come on, Y/N,â she teased, sitting down across from you. âTall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. Youâre telling me you didnât notice? Heâs practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.â
You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk youâd just had with Logan. You hadnât seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldnât quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing somethingâor someoneâelse.
âI didnât know he was hanging around,â you admitted, glancing down at your hands. âBut... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.â
Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. âSad, huh? You picked up on that, too?â
You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Loganâs presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at youâlike he wanted to say something but couldnât bring himself to.
âYou think heâs okay?â you asked quietly.
Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. âWho knows? The worldâs a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe heâs looking for something.â
âLooking for what?â
âMaybe someone to share the load,â she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. âMaybe that someoneâs you.â
You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. âI donât even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.â
âHey, stranger things have happened,â Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. âYou felt something, right? Thatâs not nothing.â
You sighed, leaning back against the couch. âI guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.â
Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. âLost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? Whatâs he hoping to find?â
âI donât know,â you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chestâa mix of curiosity and something you couldnât quite name.
Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. âWell, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.â
You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. âAsk him why heâs hanging around the schoolyard?â
Ida laughed softly. âMaybe not that bluntly, but yeah. Thereâs something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.â
You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybeâjust maybeâyou could help.
---
The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasnât thereâat least, not that you could see.
The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk youâd shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldnât shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.
When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hopingâhalf-expectingâthat he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.
âLooking for someone?â
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadnât even heard him.
âLogan,â you said, surprised but not unwelcome. âI didnât see you.â
He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. âDidnât mean to sneak up on you.â
You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. âItâs alright. Just didnât expect to see you today.â
Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. âI wanted to see if youâd like to take another walk. If youâre not too tired, that is.â
You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voiceâsomething vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.
âIâd like that,â you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.
The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didnât need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.
âWhyâve you been hanging around the school?â you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. âIda said she noticed you there for a while.â
Loganâs jaw tightened slightly, and he didnât answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. âI wasnât trying to... I donât know. I guess I was just... drawn there.â
âDrawn there?â you echoed, glancing up at him.
He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. âYeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.â
You didnât press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.
âI donât want to make you uncomfortable,â he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. âIf I am, just tell me, and Iâll leave you alone.â
You shook your head quickly. âNo, youâre not making me uncomfortable.â
Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.
âAlright,â he said quietly.
The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small thingsâthe city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.
When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasnât sure if he should stay or go.
âIâll see you tomorrow?â you asked, offering him a small smile.
Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. âYeah. Tomorrow.â
As you turned to head inside, you couldnât help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyesâthe one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.
And in that moment, you realized... you didnât want to be just a stranger to him either.
---
After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, youâd stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before youâd head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was differentâthe air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didnât hesitate.
âYouâre not going out in that cold again,â you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. âTen minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.â
Logan didnât protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.
âDonât worry,â you teased, trying to lighten the mood. âI wonât keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.â
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.
Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.
âYou donât gotta fuss,â he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. âIâm alright.â
âHumor me,â you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. âBesides, Iâve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure youâre not freezing to death.â
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasnât sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.
âWhy donât you tell me more about yourself?â you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. âWeâve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.â
Loganâs gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. âNot much to tell,â he said after a beat. âJust a guy whoâs been around a while.â
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. âThatâs it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?â
He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. âHad family once. Friends, too. Lost most of âem.â
There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didnât push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.
âSorry,â you said softly. âThat mustâve been hard.â
Logan took the cup but didnât drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. âLifeâs hard for everyone,â he muttered, more to himself than to you.
You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.
âWhyâd you let me walk with you?â Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou donât know me,â he said, shaking his head slightly. âMost people wouldnât... Theyâd be scared, or theyâd push me away. But you... you let me stay.â
You frowned, trying to find the right words. âI donât know... I guess I just felt like... I should.â You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. âBesides, youâre not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.â
A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. âYouâre not afraid of much, are you?â
You laughed softly, shaking your head. âNot really. I mean, whatâs the point of being afraid? Lifeâs hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.â
Loganâs smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. âYeah,â he muttered. âGuess youâre right.â
The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.
Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. âI should go,â he said, though he didnât make a move toward the door.
You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. âLogan...â
He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldnât quite place. âYeah?â
You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. âYou donât have to carry it all alone,â you said softly.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didnât need to explain.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â he said quietly before turning to leave.
You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between youâsomething unspoken, something oldâand you werenât ready to let it go.
Not yet.
---
It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You werenât sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.
Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.
You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.
"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.
You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? Itâs market day. There's a lot to see, and itâd be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"
"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didnât.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "Iâll come with you."
You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. Itâll be fun. I promise."
---
The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.
"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.
"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"
Logan grunted in response, though he didnât seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasnât used to thisâbeing around so many peopleâbut he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.
After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.
"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."
Loganâs gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didnât say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.
"Logan, you donât have toâ"
"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."
You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."
He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.
You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldnât fully let his guard down.
"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.
Loganâs mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didnât quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."
You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much heâd seen, how much heâd lived through.
"Iâm glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like Iâve been stuck in a routine for a while now. Itâs nice to just... do something different."
Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Iâm glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.
There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it tooâthe strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.
After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I ainât good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."
You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "Youâre doing fine," you said gently.
Loganâs jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "Itâs not that simple."
You felt a pang of somethingâsympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You donât have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."
Loganâs eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didnât move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasnât much, but it felt like a stepâlike maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.
---
As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. âYou ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?â
Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. âThe exhibition?â
You nodded, turning toward him. âThereâs a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard theyâve got this new thingâelectric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and⌠maybe youâd like to come with me?â
For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasnât something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.
âYou want me to go with you?â he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
âWell, yeah,â you said, smiling. âWeâve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, Iâm curious about those lights. They say itâs going to change the way people live.â
Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. âAlright. Iâll go.â
Your smile widened. âGreat! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.â
The conversation drifted back into easier topicsâyour students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldnât shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, youâd understand him better.
---
Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.
âEver seen anything like this?â you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.
Loganâs eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. âNot in a while.â
Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.
You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.
"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an âautomatic loom.â You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"
Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."
You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a paintingâa soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.
"It's beautiful, isnât it?" you said, glancing at him.
Loganâs gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasnât talking about the art.
You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something thereâsomething that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.
"You sure this ainât boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know youâre not one for crowds."
Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "Itâs fine. Long as youâre enjoying yourself."
You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."
For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separateâlike the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "Theyâre saying these will replace gas lamps soon."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesnât seem right, replacing something thatâs worked for so long."
"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."
Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess Iâve never been good with change."
You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just havenât found the right reason to embrace it yet."
For a moment, Logan didnât respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."
As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the cityâs evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.
You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadnât faded. It felt like something had shiftedâlike youâd both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.
"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.
"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "Thereâs a place not far from here. They make the best stew."
Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didnât need to.
As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.
"This place isnât so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.
You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."
Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like thisâquiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasnât about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.
---
One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.
You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.
Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. Heâd heard that cough beforeâ26 years ago.
"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. âJust a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said itâs just a cold.â
Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last daysâbedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.
"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.
"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, Iâm fine."
Loganâs jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you wereâalive, vibrant. This time, he couldnât lose you again. He wouldn't.
"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."
You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "Iâm fine, really. Itâs just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea wonât fix."
Logan didnât argue, but the worry in his eyes didnât fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasnât 1854. But the memory haunted him.
You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "Whatâs really going on?"
Loganâs breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that youâd been here beforeâthat heâd watched you die, that heâd loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.
"Just... donât push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "Iâve seen people get worse when they donât take care of themselves."
You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, Iâll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, youâll make sure I do, right?"
Loganâs lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."
The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Loganâs past pressing down on him, though you couldnât see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life youâd shared.
---
You didnât see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.
You couldnât help but worry a tad bit, it wasnât like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.
âHe hasnât been by at all?â Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. âThat man never misses a day. Heâs usually lurking outside, waitinâ to walk you home.â
You nodded, biting your lip. âYeah, I noticed. Itâs been three days now.â
Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. âYou donât think somethinâs happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.â
You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. âNo, Iâm sure heâs fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Heâs... not the type to explain himself much.â
Ida hummed, though she didnât look convinced. âMaybe. But if he doesnât show up soon, you ought to go find him. Heâs a good man, Y/N, and youâve only known him a month, but itâs clear he cares about you.â
The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didnât quite understand the pull between you, it was thereâundeniable. And the fact that he hadnât shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.
Later that evening, after youâd left Idaâs apartment and returned to your own, you couldnât shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.
Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.
Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expectingâhalf hopingâit would be Logan.
And there he was.
He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught youâthe familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.
âLogan,â you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. âWhere have you been? I was starting to get worried.â
Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didnât say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.
âI needed time,â he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.
âTime for what?â you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasnât easy for him.
Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldnât meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his faceâlike he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.
âIâm scared,â he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasnât used to saying them.
You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. âScared of what?â
His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. âOf losing you,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. âLogan⌠weâve only known each other for a month,â you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like youâd known him much longerâlike this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.
âI know,â Logan said, his voice rough. âBut it doesnât change how I feel.â
There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.
âIâm not going anywhere,â you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. âIâm right here.â
Loganâs breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasnât a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldnât put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.
âI canât lose you,â he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldnâtâthat you were here, that you werenât going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasnât telling you.
âLoganâŚâ you started, your voice soft. âWhat arenât you telling me?â
For a long moment, he didnât answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls heâd let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.
âIâve lived a long time,â he said finally, his voice low. âIâve lost people before. People I cared about. I canât⌠I canât go through that again.â
You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there tooâsomething unspoken. âLogan⌠who did you lose?â
His eyes flickered with pain, but he didnât answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldnât bring himself to say it out loud.
You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasnât someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.
âIâm here,â you whispered against his chest. âIâm not going anywhere.â
For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.
---
You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.
âSupposed to come down hard tomorrow,â Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. âGlad we got everything done now. Donât wanna be caught in that mess.â
You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. âItâll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Loganâs been after me about taking it easy anyway.â
Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. âThat man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.â
You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. âI know he cares. Heâs just⌠different. Keeps to himself.â
âHeâs different, alright,â Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. âBut heâs not the type to care about someone without good reason. Donât let that one get away.â
You didnât respond, but your thoughts drifted to Loganâhow he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didnât fully understand it, but you felt itâsomething deeper than words or time.
The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.
âWhoa!â the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.
You clutched Idaâs arm, your heart racing. âWhatâs going on?â
The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. âThe damn harness snapped! The horseââ
Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.
âHold on!â he yelled.
The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Idaâs scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.
And thenânothing.
The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.
---
Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw itâjust beyond the next block, down by the road.
The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.
A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.
Loganâs heart stopped. He knewâhe just knew.
His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.
By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.
âSomeoneâs inside!â the man stammered. âTwo womenââ
Logan didnât wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.
âY/N!â His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.
You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.
âLoganâŚ?â you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.
âI got you,â Logan said, his voice breaking. âIâm here. Youâre gonna be fine.â But even as he said it, dread gnawed at himâthis wasnât fine. It was happening again.
Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Loganâs focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.
âNo, no, noâŚâ Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.
You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. âI told you⌠Iâd restâŚâ
âDonât,â Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. âDonât do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.â
You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. âI⌠triedâŚâ
Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anythingâbut it couldnât save you. Not now. Not again.
He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. âI canât lose you again, darlinâ. Not like thisâŚâ
Your breath hitched once, then stopped.
âNo,â Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. âNo, no, noâŚâ
His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didnât care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.
And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldnât let go.
in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
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Calling it now:
If there's ever any future installments of Dragon Age there will be no mention of the differentiation between the Dalish or City Elves.
Like in DATV they will simply all be 'elves' and the vallaslin will be reduced to 'cool looking tattoo's that some veil jumpers have' - no mention of the elven pantheon either, because why bother! They're all dead now!
They're all dead and responsible for every lore plot point in Thedas, and there's nothing of mystery or substance left in the world now.
No mention of the culture in the alienage, of the vhenadahl tree, of the horrific racism and systematic abuse the elves have been through...now its just elves. With the way the Veil Jumpers have been set up, and the fact that the elven gods were the enemy in DATV, I find it extremely unlikely that the Dalish will even exist as a group either. Why would they? Their Gods returned and blighted the world - not that the fact is even truly discussed in the game. Elves are just elves, and the notable elves are Veil Jumpers.
Maybe you'll walk in a city, pick up a codex, and get a copy and pasted explanation of history from a DAO codex - a reminder of what we used to have and what BioWare absolutely demolished in their attempt to build a new IP on the bones of Dragon Age. The absolute whiplash in writing, story, and character between DAI and DATV is staggering. How on earth could the studio that made such a gorgeous, rich world of lore surrounding the elves in one game end up utterly bastardizing and reducing it to nothing?
How can you look at a place like the Temple of Mythal and go from those gorgeous golden murals and emerald tiled roofs that reached to the heavens to a place like the Lighthouse? From the Emerald Graves to the ruins of Arlathan - devoid of halls that reach to the heavens and golden murals replaced with stained glass? The entirety of the Trespasser DLC had more character and reverence for what the elven empire once was, and DATV feels as though it's approaching it with the perspective of 'generic elven bullshit with triangles everywhere'. All that unique architecture has been obliterated by adding in World of Warcraft focus crystals and automatons.
How can you go from the atmospheric/environmental storytelling of the Lost Temple of Dirthamen to Solas just blurting everything out? No weight, no double truths or hidden meanings - just blurting it out, getting it said and done with no gravitas? That was Solas' entire thing! People have made threads literally dissecting what Solas says and does not say - now he spits lore out as though it were common, everyday knowledge.
How can anyone justify the sudden emergence of magical automatons everywhere in old elven ruins? As if Dragon Age didn't have a host of enemies/creatures available to use in their stead - or the ability to create something unique to the forest of Arlathan. What happened to the spirit guardians? What happened to the lingering echoes of the elves slaughtered by humans in wars ages past like in DAO? Magic was their very existence - spells taking years or centuries to cast, weaving in and about each other - and you're telling me the ancient elves spent their time creating magical transformers?! It feels/looks so utterly seperate from everything we know of the elves from Dragon Age.
Or look at the Crossroads - listen to how Morrigan speaks of it - the reverence for the past, the misty atmosphere, and the heaviness of this pocket of the world that carries the fading memories of a world and people that no longer exists...now it's reduced to a hub world! People are just popping in and out of it at will!
In Trespasser, the few eluvians that we were available to travel to led to the most lonely, desolate spots of Thedas, which ensured their survival over the past millennia. The mirror in the Deep Roads, the mirror in the ancient stronghold in Ferelden...now they're everywhere!The 'few surviving' eluvians are in every major settlement of Thedas and all are in operating order! More than that, everyone who sees an eluvian knows what it is - this ancient marvel of a world long gone has lost all worth and is reduced to a 'world building' justification for fast travel.
Poor Merrill, slaving for a near decade to try and restore a small sliver of her history, only to have all gravitas and wonder of her discovery utterly made void. All that accomplishment wasted, especially when Bellara can wave her magic omni-tool and fix an eluvian in a matter of hours.
If you took every specific Dragon Age terminology out of the Veilguard and replaced it with generic fantasy bullshit you would never be able to tell the difference. The world of DATV is so divorced from its predecessors its astounding.
#datv spoilers#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#bioware critical#bioware what the fuck#elves of thedas#dalish elves#city elves#one good thing about how bad this game is: it's easy to just separate it from the rest of the games#I wanted to explore every corner of the ruins in Inquisition#I wanted to read every codex#fun fact! it's all gone now!#Never forget the bioware fucking nuked southern thedas from existence#weeping into the void#duncan didn't die for this#datv critical#edited to add in that I think the 'dalish' won't even exist as a group anymore thanks to DATV
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Marcille is actually one of the biggest reasons it took so long to pinpoint which Chilchuck was the imposter in todayâs episode.
The Senshi and Marcille imposters had their own reasons for being hard to decipher, but that was a joint effort on the partyâs part. Chilchuck was the only example where a single memberâs bias actually swayed the others so strongly that it made them all doubt themselves.
Ryouko Kui did an excellent job of giving us a rich background on how different races interact, and how they may descriminate against each other. Each of the races in this series struggles with these prejudices. Our main characters are not exempt from this, and we see it clearly in the way the shapeshifter manifested as each party member, showing us how the others percieve them.
Marcille knows Chilchuck well, and cares deeply for him as a friend. But sheâs not immune to assumptions and biases that come from her elven background. The Chilchuck imposter we are faced with, when itâs down to two of them left, is Marcilleâs memory of Chilchuck, Marcilleâs perception of how he behaves.
One of the first manifestations of this bias occurs when shapeshifter Chilchuck canât get a jar open.
The real Chilchuck knows that this would never happenâat least not in this way. Chilchuck is proud, yes, but he asks for Laiosâ help all the time. Laios is actually one of the party members he is the most likely to ask help from, given how long theyâve known each other, and how much mutual trust exists between them.
However, the whole scenario isnât right. Chilchuck wouldnât give up so easily on opening something; his whole job is opening and unlocking things. He would never quit an attempt like this within 5 seconds, then run to Laios so that âbig strong adult tall-manâ can open it for him.
Marcille is the one who asks, âHuh? Why do you say that?â because Marcille is partially right. Chilchuck does rely on Laios, and Marcille knows this to be true. But she fails to realize how he relies on Laios.
Chilchuck respects many of Laiosâ talents, but the most important ones are his combat skills, his emotional fortitude, and his quick thinking when delegating tasks. He trusts Laios as someone he is comfortable following (he literally said to him and Shuro in the last episode: âLaios!! Tell us what do!! Give us orders!!â when chimera Falin was quickly overpowering them).
So while Marcille almost understands Chilchuckâs confidence in Laios, she tends to accidentally infantilize him in the process.
She immediately believes that Chilchuck B (the imposter, who is specifically using her own memory as its base for Chilchuckâs personality) is the real one, and says so, because sheâs blinded by her perception of him as being childlike and adorable because of the very common racial prejudices that half-foots deal with all the time.
She dotes on the imposter, and is open with her affections, as usual (again, her care for him is clear), but doubles down on that bias, on her own assumptions of Chilchuckâs behavior shown through her own lens.
And ultimately, Laios was able to tell the difference, but only because he watched how the Chilchucks handled other minute tasks. Marcilleâs stance on which Chilchuck was real truly did throw the others for a loop, at least until the threat passed. And honestly, thatâs part of what makes the shapeshifter so terrifying. Its strategy almost worked.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille donato#chilchuck tims#laios touden#senshi#senshi of izganda#chilchuck#shapeshifters#laios dungeon meshi#marcille dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi analysis#neo queen serenityâs posts#dungeon meshi spoilers#dunmeshi#dunmeshi chilchuck#chilchuck dungeon meshi#this can be translated in a shippy light tbh#chilaios#does marcille ship them? does she assume chilchuck sees laios as his knight in shining armor? hehe#dungeon meshi episode 18#dungeon meshi anime#dungeon meshi meta
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hi welcome back to leanne rewatches deadpool & wolverine and goes insane about every single detail in this movie. in this edition: how logan's clothes reflect the trajectory of his character
1. the suitâinside
so we start off with the scene in the bar where logan appears to be wearing what we're used to seeing him wear. flannels, leather jackets. his outfit and even the setting is not at all unfamiliar for him. but, as we later find out, he was wearing the suit underneath all those layers the whole time.
during his talk with laura, he reveals that he wears the suit to remember those he'd lost, and as a reminder of what he'd done. he's had the suit on permanently for god knows how long, hidden under his clothes. at this point he bears the suit like a cross, suffering in silence under the guise of normalcy, yet sacrificing what's left of his identity by reducing himself to what the suit represents; by taking all the jabs and nasty looks people throw at him that he thinks he's too deserving of to combat.
2. the suitâoutside
after wade pulls him out, he has the suit on display for quite a while. on one hand, it shows the fight that's in him now as a contrast to his passivity in his own world. on the other hand, it's also a sort of vulnerability: what that suit stands for and by extension what he himself is is now laid bare to the world. out in the open for people to question. maybe that fight that's in him now stems precisely from this vulnerability.
this vulnerability is both good and bad for him: it causes him to lash out at the questions from wade that he's not ready to answer. it also leads him to open up to laura and finally speak about what happenedâwho knows if he's ever said any of it out loud before. fun! even with just the suit, we're already seeing some development.
and THIS is where it gets interesting.
3. the white shirtâhis mind
the first time we truly see him without the suit is when cassandra nova looks into his mind. i've been going back and forth on whether this is logan's own manifestation of himself or if it's cassandra's, and i still don't know. i think the distinction does matter, but in the end what it conveys is the same.
firstly, another layer of vulnerability again. he's already on his knees for cassandra, submissiveânow in his mind he's also stripped as bare as he can be (i think we all know white shirts can sometimes leave little to the imagination). cassandra looks at him and says "you're hiding ... from all the ones you let down." how interesting is that?? if we go all the way back to the first scene, he hides his suit under normal clothes. and he hides this version of him in his mind even further underneath all of that.
secondly and as an extension of that point, white symbolises purity. cleanliness. even a promise of new beginnings. let's tackle this from the two possible perspectives.
if this is logan's manifestation of himself, it would be so intriguing that this is how he appears. maybe it means that despite it all, there's some good in him. maybe it means that deep, deep down, past all the shame and the guilt and the grief, there's still a part of his mind where he can just be.
on the other hand, the white could also symbolise a second chanceâlike i said, a promise of new beginnings. i made a post about this scene here, but the basic point is that cassandra is offering him something that no one else may ever be able to offer him. a chance to fully be himself, to silence the voices. the white is such a stunning visual representation of what she is saying logan could be if he stays with her. which makes it even more poignant that he doesn't.
4. the time ripper
after this scene, he's in the suit again, necessarily. but then! BUT THEN!!!!! the time ripper!!! y'all need to understand the significance of this scene in all its nuances FR! here you can look at his abs again:
but the thing is we know by now what the suit represents. all his failures, all his guilt, his inability to let go of his past. it represents him. isn't it just so fitting that it's at this point where he saves the fucking world that the suit breaks away. it breaks away from him. he's free. this not the same as him just taking it off, because with it breaking into pieces he literally cannot wear it anymore. this is not just a hugh jackman body appreciation, this is logan finally moving on. this is him realising that he is not a failure, that he is not his failures, that he has something else to live for.
5. him
and oh my god, we finally make it to the extremely satisfying ending. after all of that, we finally come full circle. he's in his normal clothes again, the wife beater and the flannel, except this time without anything underneath. he's no longer defined by that one incident, defined by his mistakes and the people he let down. he is just him.
#user: gossippool đ#gossippool metas#leanne rewatches dp&w for the 3rd time#wow ok i lost my mind for a bit there it's like 2 am now#i'm normal as you can tell#i'm going to sleep now hopefully i didn't hallucinate words and this still makes sense in the morning#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#poolverine
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Bill Cipher Analysis Post âźď¸
(I could be wrong about some things since the book is fresh, feel free to expand this post or correct me! May be a little edited as well!)
To start things off: William Mischief Cipher, (yes thats his actual name) is a dream demon from another dimension. To be specific, the second dimension.
Despite Bill being a literal shapeâ and also a demigodâ itâs implied that Bill had a human-like childhood. He had a normal mother and father, he went to school, and overall seemed to have a normal life. The problem, however, was that he was born with powers completely unknown to his dimension.
Bills world was 2D, meaning there was no up or down. Itâs hard for us to grasp the concept of his world, and its implied Bills dimension felt the same way about us. They couldnât grasp the idea of other, less flat dimensionsâ but Bill could. Not only did he understand the concept, he could physically SEE the other dimensionsâ which drove him crazy with confusion and frustration.
Itâs also implied that Bill was born with physical powers others in his dimension didnât haveâ for example, thereâs a line in the book where he remembers being bullied in school for having the ability to conjure fire.
Itâs implied that Bill tried to tell everyone about the other dimensions, but they didnât understand. The other people of his homeworld considered him troubled and insane. Thereâs a poem written in code on the silly straw page of his book detailing how he was fed medicine to keep his âvisionsâ away, but would only drink it out of a silly straw. This poem implies he was a baby at the time of taking his medicine, implying further that his powers were terrifyingly strong even from an early age. Thisâ paired with the fact he could shoot fire from his fuckin handsâ made him dangerous as a child, because (at least from what it seems) any childish outburst or tantrum could accidentally turn dangerous from his lack of understanding or being able to control the powers he was born with. He was a walking time bomb.
âEye doctor of a different kind who wants to make his patient blind / The doctor says three sips a day will make the visions go away / Fussy eater, baby billy, wouldnât drink unless its silly.â
(((The doctor was taking away Bills ability to see the other dimensions, rendering him somewhat blind. Bill fussed about his medicine as a child and would only drink it out of a silly straw.)))
Eventually, Bill tried to bring his world into the third dimensionâ or at the very least, show them it exists to prove that he wasnât insane. Itâs unclear what exactly he did to try and accomplish thisâ but it went wrong and started a terrible fire that left only him alive.
Itâs unclear whether or not he started the fire itself on purpose or on accident, but either way its implied that he absolutely didnât understand the permanent consequences. Itâs something that deeply traumatized him. Itâs blurred out of his memory, and in denial, he pretends everyone is still alive. Itâs up to the reader to determine whether or not he can be forgiven for this, but out of everything Bill has done on purpose and out of malice, this doesnât seem to be one of those things. It seems he genuinely wanted to free his family from the confinements of his dimension and to this day he still pretends thatâs what he did, even if thatâs not the case. The regret of his actions is something that goes on to shape his character today.
âTwisted out of shape after the killâ the ghost of his family haunting him stillâ (((Silly straw page)))
Bill has lied about this day on multiple occasions, and has also lied about how he feels towards it. Heâs terrified to face the guiltâ so he either pretends he did it on purpose and doesnât care, pretends something or someone else did it, or pretends it didnât happen all together.
While talking to Stanford, he calls himself a monster. This is what he truly thinks of himself. However, he pretends to be a different person than himself. His entire life past the day of his dimensions burning has been a lie of pure denial.
On top of denial, he refused and still refuses to grow up. After running off into a crumbling dimension with his âhenchmaniacâ friends, he started acting like a rebellious teenager. Unlike most villains with a specific intent to hurt, he went throughout the universe with the sole intention of having as much fun as possible. However, with his terrifying power and uncaring nature many casualties happened on the side. Heâs guilty for them, and even finds some of them funny, but hurting people wasnât and isnât his MAIN intent. (At least not most of the time. He IS known to hold grudges, or dismantle someoneâs face for fun, but those things arenât part of his overall goal. Not saying they arenât shitty, but his main intent is important to understanding his character and complexity.)
His main goal is to distract himself from his past with as much chaos as possible while also seeking attention from anyone he can get it from. He talks about Stanford and says he needs Bill to boost his ego, but really itâs the other way around. Bill considers himself a product to sell, he caters to people by using false charisma, pretending theyâre the ones that need him when in reality heâs starving for their praise. He is desperate for someone to speak highly of him because his mind has nothing good to say, all the words he says out loud are compensation. He believes deep down that nobody will love him if they know who he truly is and what heâs doneâ and heâs not really wrong. And look! He couldnât even admit thatâs how he feels about himself so he pretends heâs giving advice! (He does this SO MANY fuckin times in the book..)
It appears in the book that the more he regrets or suffers from his past actions and traumasâ the more he hurts and destroys the things and people around him as a distractionâ all under the ruse of âpartyingâ. So, in an immature attempt to absolve himself of guilt, he stacks more guilt onto his endless cycle by continuing to hurt those he loves again and againâ pretending not to care but truthfully caring so much that heâd do ANYTHING to drown out the feeling. Ironically, his way of drowning out his feelings is by causing more harm. He is an endless, pitiful paradox.
Itâs often misunderstood that he is a uncaring, but thatâs what he WANTS you to think. Thatâs what he WISHES he was. His guilt and remorse doesnât absolve him from the things heâs done, but the fact that itâs there is a GIANT and IMPORTANT part of his character. He CAN feel empathy, sympathy, sentimentality, and ESPECIALLY regret. He may be a considered a sociopath, but this doesnât mean heâs not a person with feelings as well.
Heâs so distraught over losing Stanford that he drinks himself into a state of temporary amnesia that made him fall into a ptsd episodeâ his memory is so bad he ends up thinking heâs talking to his mother whoâs been dead for probably millions of years.
This doesnât excuse what he did to Ford AT ALL (I felt a little sick looking at the knuckles page..) but you canât truly understand his character without understanding that he is LYING when he is cruel to Ford. And no, just because itâs a lie/front doesnât mean heâs absolved from saying or doing something horrible, but it DOES mean he is unique and complex.
Itâs perfectly reasonable to not forgive Bill for what he did to Ford, because itâs not really forgivableâ but I also think itâs fair to explore the complexities of ��evilâ characters. SAYING A CHARACTER REGRETS THEIR ACTIONS DOESNâT MEAN I THINK THEY DESERVE FORGIVENESS!!! Especially in Billâs case, considering that he PRETENDS to not be sorry, which makes him terrible even if he doesnât mean what heâs saying. He might as well not be sorry at all HOWEVER!! Itâs still important to distinguish him from a sociopathic stereotypeâ so I have to acknowledge that heâs a little sorry anyway, even if that regret is hidden away and doesnât help literally anyone.
He values his own comfortability over the people he loves. Meaning heâll always be cruel instead of apologizing because even if heâs truly sorry, he canât handle the fact that he did something wrong in the first placeâ Heâll just play dumb.
At the end of the day, thoughâ Bill is much more complicated than âGuy that just wants to explode people with his mind and take over the worldââ I mean yes, heâs also thatâ but he also has hella bad ptsd and possible other mental issues that Iâm not qualified to diagnose. He has a mother who he misses and a pain he carries with him.
None of the pain he harbors will ever justify the pain heâs causedâ So no, I donât think heâs ACTUALLY forgivable (though I may joke). However, in my opinion, I do think heâs redeemable! Heâs going to live (or at least be in purgatory?) for millions of more years. He already got a punishment of literal death and has the empathy (somewhere) to continue forward and start fresh. He has thousands of years to heal from his trauma and wallow in what heâs done.
The Pines family may never forgive him, but out of the child-cartoony love in their hearts they offer him not forgivenessâ but live and let live. (Well, at least Mabel does.. love you sweet girl.) If he goes around them theyâll beat his ass like in weirdmaggedon, but if he stays away, they will too. At the end of the day, heâs been stopped and theyâre happy. If he is alive, (((or is going to be??))) he might as well heal.
And, well.. even if you think he doesnât deserve that somewhat happy(?) ending, a redemption arc for him has been hinted at for years. Sorry, man. Respect to you and all but like⌠friendship is magic and the evil demigod is gonna start working at your local wendys once heâs outa space arkham. Itâs just the way kids shows go, man.
(((Edited note: I apologize for my original wording when it came to âsociopathââ I wasnât aware of its actual medical use and I shouldâve done my research on that! Iâve changed this post to be more accurate in that regard, so if old reblogs look different itâs because theyâre the original version.)))
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episode eight: the battle of starcourt
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. âShit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.â Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. âOwn any red bikinis?â You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. âIn your dreams.â âI can sleep right now and find outââ âI will flick you again.â âA kiss is preferred, but whatever.â
Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 21.2k (ouch)
Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !
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Elâs screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. Itâs unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart.Â
No one knows what to do.Â
Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with Elâs. Take away her pain somehow. But you wonât let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive Elâs panic further.
âWhat is that?â Disgust litters Ericaâs face as she stares at the moving creature within Elâs leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe.Â
âThereâs something in her leg,â Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. Heâs furious, heâs overwhelmed, he just wants to help. âLet go!â
Your arms tighten around the boy. He isnât in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. âJonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.â He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. âGrab it.â
Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you donât accept it. âGo and disinfect it. Thereâs a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we canââ you swallow as nausea fills you. âWeâwe have to cut it out of her leg.â
The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. âI need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.â
âRight, okay.â Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. âHey, stay awake, okay?â
You tug Steve towards Elâs legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. âGet her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.â
Both boys do as theyâre told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. âRobin, hey. Youâre not helping.â
âIâm sorry.â
Jonathan returns, out of breath. âOkay. Alright, El?â He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. âThis is gonna hurt like hell, okay?â
El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. âSweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.â
âIâll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,â Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. âYouâre gonna want to bite down on this, okay?â
Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for whatâs about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. âHold her shoulders. Donât let her go, no matter what.â
He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. âDo it.â
âOkay,â Jonathan inhales. The knife youâve given him shakes as he holds it over Elâs wound. Heâs fucking terrified, but he knows itâs the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and Elâs screams tear from her chest.Â
Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way Elâs body convulses, the screams she releases, itâs all too much. You donât feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you.Â
âThank you,â your breathing is shaky. You arenât even sure if heâs heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. Heâs doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her.Â
You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by Elâs scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at whatâs happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathanâs fingers are now in Elâs leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you.Â
Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.
âGoddamn it!â Jonathan canât find it. He canât find whatever the hell is in Elâs leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood.Â
âNo!â El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. âStop it!âÂ
You canât stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. âI can do it.
âDo what, El?â You ask, though you think you know anyways.
She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. Sheâs sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. Thereâs a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it.Â
To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You canât imagine it.Â
El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from Elâs leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in Elâs leg makes you feel ill.Â
With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopperâs boot crashes down upon it, killing it.Â
Youâve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch.Â
Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. Itâs been days since youâve last seen her. Youâre more homesick than youâve ever been before.Â
Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man youâve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. âMurray?â
âYou know him?âÂ
Jonathan nods at you. âHeâs the detective Nance and I visited last year.âÂ
âHeâs insane.â Nancy says, though thereâs a nostalgic smile on her face.Â
Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. âAlways at the scene of the crime, huh?â
âYeah,â you blow hair out of your face. âCanât seem to ever stop myself.â Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that heâs wearing, you tilt your head to the side. âNice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. Youâve been direly needing some color in your life.â
Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell itâs more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. âThanks, kid.â
âAnytime, old man.âÂ
âÂ
âThe Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.âÂ
You sit on the fountainâs edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mikeâs words surround you.Â
He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while youâve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesnât sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.
And somehow Billy has become the face of it.Â
The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy.Â
âHow big is this thing?â Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him.Â
Jonathan sighs. âItâs⌠Itâs big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.â
âYouâve seen it?â Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears.Â
âWeâve had a rough night.â Nancy whispers, eyes downcast.Â
âIt sorta destroyed Hopperâs cabin.â Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. âSorry.â
Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins. Â
Which, according to Max, is still very much alive.Â
But that doesnât stop Will from trying to help. âBut if we close the gate againââÂ
âWe cut the brain off from the body.â
âAnd kill it.â Lucas finishes for Max. âTheoretically.â
It sounds so simple, but youâve been here before.
Youâve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byersâ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army.Â
It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.
Youâve been here before. It hadnât been enough.Â
âHow many more times are we going to kill it?â Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes donât lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. âWe thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,â laughter crawls out of your throat. âWhoâs to say that they wonât just open the gate again? Theyâve already done it onceââ
âLoverboy over here,â The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathanâs head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you heâs an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. âHe told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. Iâm not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.â
Steve subtly shifts your body so that heâs in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. âWhatâs that in your hands?â
Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. âAh. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.âÂ
âThatâs just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.â You squint at the papers. Theyâre no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.
âSeriously,â Murray turns back to Jonathan again. âI thought she was supposed to be the nice one.â
You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. âJust start talking.â
He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. âOkay, this is what Alexei called âthe hubâ.â Murray points to the center of the first drawing. âNow, the hub takes us to the vault room.â
âOkay, whereâs the gate?â Hopper hovers over him, attentive.Â
âRight here.â Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. âI donât know the scale on this, but I think itâs fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.â
You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyoneâs attention. âYouâre so wrong that it physically pains me.â
âIâm sorry?â Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from.Â
âItâs more like five hundred feet.â Erica says. When she sees Murrayâs exasperated expression, she canât help but laugh at the old man. âWhat, youâre just gonna waltz in there like itâs commie Disneyland or something?âÂ
âAnd who are you?âÂ
âErica Sinclair. And who are you?â
âMurray⌠Bauman.â
âListen, Mr. Bunman.â You have to stifle a laugh into Steveâs shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. âIâm not trying to tell you how to do things, but Iâve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, youâre all gonna die.â
âIâm sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?â
You slide off the fountainâs edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you donât like his snippy attitude. âSheâs ten, actually, and sheâs right.â
âYeah, you bald bastard!â Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. âJust the facts!â
While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Ericaâs shoulders and place her behind you. There isnât time for her to make a grown man cry. âWe went through hell down there. It wonât be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.â
âTheyâre right.â Dustin speaks up. âYouâre all gonna die, but you donât have to. Excuse me, may I?â Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. âSee this room here? This is a storage facility. Thereâs a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.â
âItâs how we accidentally got in.â You add, figuring any extra information could help.
âWait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?â Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that heâs impressed. You know that once this is all over, heâll grill you for details later.
âNo, we thought itâd be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.â Steve points to his swollen eye. âYes, Wheeler. It was an accident.â
âGuys!â Dustin shouts. When he has everyoneâs attention again, he sighs. âJesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. Itâs a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.âÂ
Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. âYou can show us the way?â
Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. âYes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.â
âNo.â Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time.Â
You roll your eyes at all of them. âOkay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,â you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. âArenât a part of this conversation.â
âThere isnât a conversation to be had, kid.â Hopper scoffs at you. He doesnât want to hear whatever youâre about to say. He wonât let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesnât even want Joyce coming with him. âYouâre not going. End of discussion.â
âYou donât seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you canât be that dumb.â Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. âListen to me!â He ignores you, doesnât turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him.Â
You donât care how annoying youâre being. Youâll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesnât want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you donât want him getting hurt either. âHopper, Iâm serious. ElâŚâ You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. Sheâs so small. Sheâs still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. âShe needs you. Youâyou canât get hurt.â
âAnd I wonât.âÂ
âYou donât know that,â you grab the manâs shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. Heâs frustratingly strong. âPlease, justâyouâre her father. Youâyou canât leave herââ You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isnât he the one who taught El what compromise means?Â
In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. Itâs a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you.Â
The walkies. Cerebro.
âWhat if I could still communicate with you from above?â You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesnât look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you donât waste any time. âWe have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. Itâs how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if⌠what if I give you directions using them? That way, youâll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.â
Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. Heâs quiet, mulls what youâve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, heâs resolved. âYouâre really annoying, you know that?â
A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing youâve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. âIt adds to my charm.â
Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. âHey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.â
Dustin sighs. âItâs not that simple.â
âThe signal wonât reach.â Erica clarifies for him.Â
You motion at them to explain faster. âButâŚâ
âBut,â Dustin quickly explains your idea. âWeâd need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russiansâ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radioââ
âDustin,â you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. âJust tell him about Cerebro.â
âI was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.â Your brother shakes his head. âIf you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start⌠and a car.â
âHey, chief.â You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. âDonât you have a car?â
He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. Itâs taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. âCome on, give me the car keys, Hopper.âÂ
Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. âI hate you.â
Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you donât care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. âThank you for listening to me.â
âYeah, well. Donât make me regret it.â Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what youâve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. Itâs the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at armâs length. âDo me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.â
You sniff, wipe away tears. Youâre not sure why youâre crying. âI will, I promise. Good luck, old man.â
âGood luck, kid.â He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes donât leave yours. Thereâs something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your fatherâs eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what heâs looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvaldâs. âYouâre the best of them.â
More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you canât help but laugh. Itâs a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. Youâve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper.Â
Praise doesnât come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight thatâs even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. Youâve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him.Â
â
Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. Heâs nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick youâve become familiar with.Â
The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steveâs body melts away.Â
He grabs your hand the second youâre within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. âAny updates, angel?â
You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. Itâs been a long day. Itâll be an even longer night. âYou know Weathertop hill?â
âYeah, why?â
âGood.â You place Hopperâs keys into Steveâs hand. âYouâre driving us, then.â
Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. âDefine âusâ. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and itâs making me uncomfortable.â
âBe nice, heâs still my best friend.â Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. âAnd itâs just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murrayâs bunker. Heâs just⌠Heâs worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.â
Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that sheâs new to all of this. That she hasnât had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. âItâs⌠Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.â
âHow many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?â
Steve snorts. âDepends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.â
âAstoundingâŚâ
You leave Steve to deal with Robinâs amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Willâs disappearance, youâve done everything you can to not think about what youâve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robinâs face the more you reveal to her, you canât help but laugh.Â
Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. Theyâre still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. Itâs dizzying trying to keep track of it all.Â
Secretly, youâre grateful that youâre going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions.Â
âThis one is for the second to last bottom lockââ
âMurray, can I cut in real quick?â You try to be polite about it, but truly you donât care whether or not you have the manâs permission.Â
He glares at you. âArenât you already?â
âGood point!â You grab Nancyâs and Jonathanâs arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When youâve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. âGet to that old manâs bunker safely, please?â
âOf course, bug.â Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. âStay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.â
âIâll try, bee.â Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier.Â
Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment youâre afraid sheâll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasnât melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but sheâs trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, âIâll keep him safe.â
You suck in a breath. You hadnât known how desperately you needed to hear Nancyâs reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. âI love you. I love you both.â
Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheelerâs porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home.Â
You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others.Â
Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. Sheâs still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.
âSucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.â Mike says, a light in his eyes as Elâs head rests in his lap.
You stick your tongue out at him. âSorry, couldnât find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.â
âLame.â
âGoodbye, Wheeler.â
Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. âHeâll be okay, right?â
Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How heâs infected. Flayed. It hasnât escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldnât die if the gate closed.Â
But no one has asked the same question for Billy.Â
Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Maxâs embrace. âWeâll⌠Weâll find a way. We always do.â
Though the words arenât meant to be a lie, you canât help but feel that youâre breaking an oath when you say them.Â
âÂ
Steve hadnât noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.
It doesnât take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.
âI was saying goodbye to Joyce,â you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steveâs quick footsteps.
âItâs a Cadillac, Y/N!â Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadnât wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mallâs front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. âOh, man, now thisâŚThis is what Iâm talkinâ about!â
ââToddfatherâ?â Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.
You make a face, but Steve doesnât let her ruin his moment. Heâs ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuckâs sake, itâs a goddamn Cadillac. âOh, screw Todd! Steveâs her daddy now.â
Steve hops into the carâs front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what heâs just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. âDid he just talk about himself in the third person?â
Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. âDid he just call himself daddy?âÂ
âIâm choosing to ignore him right now.â You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. Thereâs so much you donât want to unpack with what Steve has said.Â
âYou canât ignore me, Y/N.â Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. âWe already established that Iâm really annoying.âÂ
âJust take us to Weathertop, please.â You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. Sheâs squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.
âWhy did I get stuck in the middle?â She complains.
Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mallâs parking lot, he offhandedly responds, âPassenger seat is reserved for girls Iâm dating.â
Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve havenât had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But heâs just referred to you as the girl heâs dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?
Time has blurred together, but Steveâs hand rests on your thigh as he drives and youâre his girl.Â
There will be time to talk about all of it later. Youâll make sure of it this time.Â
Steveâs foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. Thereâs music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. Youâre nervous, thereâs still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; heâs trying to soothe you.Â
You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. âWhat the hell is a Cerebro?â
âItâs basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.â You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. âShe lives in Utah.â
Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustinâs shoulder. âSuzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.âÂ
Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. âI mean, nobodyâs scientifically perfect, but Suzieâs about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.â
âShe sounds made up to me.â Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. âShe sound made up to you?â
Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. âWhy are you hesitating, Steve?â
âIâIâm not!â He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. âIâm not hesitating! IâI think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.â
âNot really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.â You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. âSuzie is real. I mean, Iâm almost positive that she is.â
Dustin does a double take at your use of the word âalmostâ. Heâs about to say something, demand to know why youâre not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. âLeft, turn left!â
âThereâs not a road here?â Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.
Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The carâs tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when youâd been in the back of Billyâs car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse.Â
The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. âWhat the fuck?â
âHendersons, where are we going?â Steve screams to you and your brother. Heâs desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillsideâs grass.Â
âUp!â You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. Itâs bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races.Â
The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. âWeâre not going to make it!âÂ
âYes we are!â Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. âCâmon, baby. Câmon!âÂ
âSweet talking the car wonât help!â You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass.Â
Steve hits the wheel and curses. âCâmon! Please!â He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.
Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. âWe can walk the rest of the way, Steve.â He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. Youâre five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. âThe Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.â
Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While youâre annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time itâs night and the heat isnât as suffocating.Â
When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. âBald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?â
Bald Eagle had been your idea.Â
âScoops Troop?â You ask your brother.
He nods, proud. âThought of it myself.â
âNot bad, buddy.â
Murrayâs voice crackles over the walkie. âYes, I copy.â
Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.
Dustin starts to give Murray the directions heâll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While youâre far from the Russians below you, you still donât necessarily feel like youâre out of harmâs reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring itâs best to give the two of you some time alone.Â
You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. Youâd spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him.Â
âI havenât been up here in years.â Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. âForgot how peaceful it was.â
âI love it here,â you tell him. âLate in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.â
âWell, when they start to bloom,â Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasnât held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. âWe can run through them together.â
You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. Itâs an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. âI think Iâd like thatââ
From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hillâs edge. You need to figure out what youâre seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.
Itâs the mall. The lights are coming from the mall.Â
You freeze.Â
The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. Itâs supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isnât right.Â
Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. âWhat theâŚ?â
âThey left. They said they would be gone by now.â You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. Itâs supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murrayâs safely. He wouldnât lie, he would never lie to you.Â
Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.
Someone has to help.
Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. âGriswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!â
He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. âI repeat, do you copyââ A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radioâs speaker. Itâs loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brotherâs concern rivals your own. âGriswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagleâs nest?â
Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but thereâs only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You canât breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas.Â
El.
The Mind Flayer has them.Â
Steve tries to grab your hand, but youâre blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustinâs hands and bring it to your own lips. âJonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.â
Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve canât take it anymore.Â
âCâmon,â he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you donât know why heâs pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. âThey need our help.â
âThatâs what Iâm trying to do!â
âY/N, look at me.â Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. âWeâre going.â
Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that youâre leaving and try to stop you. âWhere are you going?â
âTo get them the hell outta there!â Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. âStay here, contact the others!â
Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesnât want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steveâs grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. âIâll be back, I promise.â
You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. âStay in touch,â he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing.Â
âWe will!â You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. âStay safe, donât do anything stupid, and stay here.â
The backdoor closes, Robinâs seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillacâs engine roars to life.
â
Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasnât gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesnât feel like it will be enough.Â
âIâm sure theyâre okay.â Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also donât shake as he grips the steering wheel. âI mean, they have El. Sheâs a superhero.â
âTotal superhero.â Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together.Â
You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. Youâre terrified for your friends, you shouldâve never split up. The party always does better when itâs together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. âHow much farther?â
âA minute, maybe even less.â Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engineâs roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction.Â
In the distance you see Starcourtâs blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that youâre close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you.Â
âThere!â You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you donât care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathanâs car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.
You squint your eyes. At first, you canât see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driverâs seat is Billy. âSteve!â
âI see him!â He floors it.Â
The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steveâs shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You canât remember if you scream.Â
âAre you guys okay?â Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if youâre hurt. Thereâs some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isnât a scratch on you, which heâs thankful for.Â
âAsk me tomorrow?â Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process whatâs just happened.Â
It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. âLetâs never do that again.â
âAgreedâŚâ Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. âOh, shit.â
You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. Itâs huge, bigger than anything youâve ever seen before.Â
A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathanâs car. âGet in!â
Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isnât room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. Itâs a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steveâs chest, but itâll have to do.Â
As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. Youâre thrown further into Steveâs chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride.Â
âAre you okay, bug?â Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.
âFine and dandy,â you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. âI crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought yâall out here tonight?â
âBilly.â Everyone in the car says in unison.
You wince. âItâs always him, isnât it?â
No one answers. Your quips donât land. Robin hasnât looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesnât want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayerâs body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums.Â
Itâs grim in the car. Really fucking grim.Â
âDusty-bun, you copy?â A girlâs voice comes through over the radio. Itâs not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.
Steveâs bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustinâs voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. âI copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.âÂ
âSuzie,â Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right.Â
The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. ââSuzie-pooâ? Thatâs the best nickname he couldâve come up with?â
âI like bee, better.â Jonathan agrees.
Steve scoffs. âHoney has a nicer ring to it.â
âBoth of you shut up!â You donât have time for their weird âmy horse is bigger than yoursâ competition. Dustinâs started speaking over the radio again and youâre trying to listen in case itâs important. Heâs asking Suzie whether she knows what Planckâs constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand.Â
âOkay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then aâŚâ Dustinâs voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he canât seem to remember. âW-What is it?â
âOkay, let me just be clear on this.â The tone of Suzieâs voice makes you pity your brother. Itâs an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever sheâs about to say, it wonât be pretty. âI havenât heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can⌠save the world?â
You whistle, commending the girlâs sense of self worth. âSheâs got a point.âÂ
Dustin pleads with her, promising that heâll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?
âYou can make it up to me now.â Suzieâs voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what sheâs about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before youâre forced to find out.Â
âWhat?â Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesnât make you feel any better.Â
âI want to hear it.â
Horror fills you. Itâs worse. So much worse than you ever couldâve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. âOh, no⌠He told her.â
âTold her what?â Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. Sheâs insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise.Â
Jonathanâs eyes meet Steveâs in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. âTheater camp.â
âJonathan Byers, I will hurt you!â You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that heâs your closest friend. He knows far too much about you.Â
Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. âTurn around, look at what you see.â
His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to.Â
The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you.Â
Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldnât tell anyone what he saw.Â
âIn her face, the mirror of your dreams.â Dustinâs melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together.Â
Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. Theyâve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You canât help but sing along, harmonizing with them.Â
Everyone in the car looks at you as if youâre insane, but youâre too tired and exhausted to care. Youâve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. Itâs a good song.Â
That, or maybe youâre just delirious from dehydration.
After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and youâre almost saddened by that. Youâve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. âPlanckâs constant is 6.62607004.â
Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. âYou just saved the world!â
âGosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.â
The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. Itâs disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. Youâll apologize to him later.Â
Dustinâs voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Ericaâs doing. Youâll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustinâs impromptu performance with.Â
âSo, theater camp, huh?â Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases.Â
âTell anyone and I swear Iâllââ The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesnât make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. âWhere are the others?â
Youâre practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. âWhereâs Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?â
Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. âWe got separated, but theyâreâtheyâre fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mallââ
âSo you left them?â
âWe didnât really have much of a choice, Y/N!â Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldnât do that. She knows that you know this.Â
âItâs going back for them! It fucking turned around, canât you see that? We need to follow it, now!âÂ
âY/Nââ
âTurn. Around.â
âSteve, sit Y/N back down!â Jonathanâs yell cuts in between you and Nancy. Youâre about to start spewing curses at him, but Steveâs arms are strong and force you back into his lap. Youâre livid. âHold on!âÂ
Jonathan knows youâre right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall.Â
âÂ
When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan.Â
âFireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.â He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. Youâre all carrying some as you run through the mallâs parking lot. âIf we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.â
âThink itâll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?â Nancy asks, hesitant.
âIf we throw them from above, yeah!â
You kiss Lucasâ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. âI think youâre a genius, Sinclair.â
Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasnât found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.
Youâre taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. Heâs so much bigger than she is. Sheâs hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. âHeâs here.â
Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. âFlay this, you ugly piece of shit!â
Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth.Â
Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. Itâs loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billyâs eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin.Â
Itâs horrible whatâs happened to him. He didnât deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game.Â
But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back.Â
âHey, asshole. Over here!â Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. Itâs dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. WIth every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens.Â
Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. Itâs deafening within the mall. Itâs exhilarating. Itâs dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky.Â
Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs Elâs wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.
Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But youâre quickly running out of ammunition.Â
âDustin, weâre out of time!â Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face.Â
Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They wonât be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. Itâs the only way any of you are making it out alive.Â
Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El.Â
She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you canât be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and youâre numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that heâs stopped moving.Â
âThat was the last one!â Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isnât anything else the three of you can do.
You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone.Â
âIâm going down!â You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. Theyâre too close to the fire and explosions and monsters.Â
âY/N, waitââ Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him.Â
âSteve, I need you to trust me.â Thereâs a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You canât shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now youâve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, youâve gotten lucky. You donât know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. âPlease.â
Maybe itâs the way you say it. Maybe itâs the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you canât.Â
You force yourself to pull away. âIâll be back, take care of the others.â
And then youâre gone.Â
Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly theyâre both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her.Â
They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws.Â
Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. âNo!â A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him.Â
Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp.Â
Everything happens slowly after that.Â
The first claw that penetrates Billyâs side.Â
The second one that cuts through his other side.Â
Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as heâs suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest.Â
Everything stops.
âBilly!â You will never forget the pain in Maxâs scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares.Â
As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billyâs body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayerâs body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.
The gate has been closed.Â
Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billyâs bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body.Â
âBilly?â Max knees next to him. Sheâs crying, she doesnât know what to do. Thereâs so much blood. âBilly, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.â
You kneel next to her, at her side through it all.Â
Blood pours from Billyâs mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. âTalking to you⌠sweetheart.â
But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?
Those had been your last words to him.Â
âBillyâŚâ He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didnât know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.
Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. âIâm sorryâŚâ His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesnât rise again.Â
Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. âBilly.âÂ
She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well.Â
You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent.Â
Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer.Â
You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that.Â
You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billyâs off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you.Â
And then you had left him.Â
Billy Hargrove died alone.
You and Max will share the burden of this guilt.Â
âÂ
Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. Youâre on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billyâs body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry,â theyâre the only words you can say to the girl.Â
Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesnât move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall.Â
Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that youâre in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and youâll need to evacuate soon.
âItâs okay, bug. Youâre okay.â Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steveâs hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet.Â
Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steveâs eyes never leave your weak frame.Â
Itâs all a blur after that.Â
Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think itâs Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. Itâs raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building.Â
There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and youâre shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that youâre in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after sheâs finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye.Â
âItâs going to take some time to heal,â the medic explains to you. Sheâs soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. âYou kids went through a lot tonight.â
Time.Â
It always goes back to time.Â
Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shouldersâ. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat.Â
A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyceâs as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.
Her eyes meet yours.Â
Hopper isnât with her.
Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs.Â
In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mikeâs lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.
âHopperâs dead.â Theyâre the first words youâve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you.Â
Steve doesnât say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body.Â
There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and Elâs childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.
You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasnât said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Willâs arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing sheâs ever had to a father.Â
You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancyâs eyes are sunken in and Jonathanâs face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything.Â
Youâre all bleeding or burned or bruised and youâre tired.Â
âSometimesâŚâ Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. Theyâre important, somehow, even if you donât know why. âSometimes it feels like Iâve used up all my luck.â
Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. âLuck?â
âWhen Will went missing⌠It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.â You werenât supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. âIt was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnelsâŚâ Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. âAnd now Iââ
Your words catch in your throat. Steveâs body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. âAnd now I⌠Iâm not sure how I feel.â
âWhyâs that, angel?â Steve listens, he tries to understand. âI mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.â
You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isnât. âAll the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.â
Elâs father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up.Â
Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft.Â
But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isnât fair.Â
âMy entire life Iâve been lucky,â your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. âNow itâit feels like Iâve used up all my luck.â Your fingers find Steveâs, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesnât know that heâs the reason you believe youâve had more luck than anyone else in their life. âI⌠I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything weâve been through together?â
Everything burns in Steve. He understands what youâre trying to say, he does, but he doesnât agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. âWell, thatâs where youâre wrong.â
You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steveâs open and earnest gaze. âIâm wrong?â
He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. âYouâve taught me a lot of things, but youâre wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.â
Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. Heâd been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable.Â
Your eyes stare into Steveâs and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless.Â
You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being.Â
âAnd Iâm lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.âÂ
Steveâs words cut through you. Theyâre the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. Itâs almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?
You see Mike now consoling El. Sheâs in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the otherâs arms. Lucas holds Maxâs hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his motherâs hair, offering her love that only a son can.Â
Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.
Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isnât a pressure behind them, he doesnât need you to say anything to him. Heâs simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and youâre so full of love for him.Â
âIâm lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.â
Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you.Â
You finally, finally, have come home.Â
âÂ
Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time.Â
After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. Itâs a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster.Â
âBut at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,â the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldnât bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. âI miss her.â
âIâm sorry, Mrs. Waters.â You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.
Hopperâs funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man wouldâve hated, and he was crowned Hawkinsâ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding Elâs hand, so that the two of you wouldnât be seen.
Billyâs funeral was a few days after Hopperâs. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billyâs father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldnât get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadnât wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling.Â
Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days sheâs quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days.Â
During the first week you bake Joyceâs favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do.Â
Steve spends every single day with you, it doesnât matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether youâre at work, at home, even at Jonathanâs or Nancyâs, heâs always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan canât help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.
Together, you all try to heal.
Two weeks pass and youâre woken up by the ringing of your phone.Â
âHello?â Annoyance seeps through your greeting. Youâve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once.Â
âCome outside, angel.â
His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. âSteve?â
âWear something warm, okay?â
âWhatâ?â He hangs up, the line disconnects, and youâre completely taken aback by the phone call. You didnât make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home.Â
Youâre not entirely sure why heâs called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.
Steveâs car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. Thereâs music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. âThe Beatles?â
They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music.Â
When your dad left, he took the music with him.
Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and youâve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings.Â
Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.
âWhat, I donât get a hello?â Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear.Â
You throw your body over the center console and hug him. âHi, honey.â
As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steveâs fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the carâs floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.
Heâs driving you to Loverâs Lake.
âWhy are we heading towards the lake?â You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather.Â
A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. Itâs dark, the moon reflects off the lakeâs water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. Itâs a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the nightâs breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm.Â
Lost in admiring the view, you donât notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. âWhat are you planning, Harrington?â
Steve grabs your hand. âYouâll see.â
He leads you down to the lakeâs edge where the water meets the sand. Thereâs a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it.Â
There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him.Â
The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, âThank you for staying.â
His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what heâs thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that youâd wait for him. He hadnât been ready. The timing of it all wouldnât have been right, but you knew, even back then, that youâd wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant youâd receive even half of his love.Â
Take your time, Iâll be here.Â
âIt was the easiest thing Iâve ever done.â The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability.Â
A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and youâve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words youâve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â You donât think youâll ever tire of saying those three words to him. Thereâs so much love within you, so much youâve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can.Â
Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know heâs wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue.Â
Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. Itâs lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. Itâs warm, itâs soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, heâs brought you here for other reasons tonight.Â
âHold on, I got you something.â Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. Thereâs a small, lopsided candle on top of it.
âYou came prepared tonight,â you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.
âMy mom did, actually. Sheâs the one who made this.â You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. âRelax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didnât I?âÂ
Words escape you. Steveâs mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though youâve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you.Â
Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. âCâmon, make a wish, Y/N.â
You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.
For time to stay like this, forever.
You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. Itâs sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for.Â
When youâve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. âAlright, now onto the real event of the night!âÂ
You raise an eyebrow. âWhat, the kissing wasnât enough?â Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. âI was teasing, honey.â
âYou terrify me,â he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one youâve been curious about all night.Â
âI aspire to be terrifying,â you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. Itâs light, lighter than you expected. âIs this my gift youâve been bragging about?â For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him.Â
âOpen it and find out.â Thereâs a glint in Steveâs eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. Heâs nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right.Â
You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isnât wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. Itâs a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms.Â
âIs thisâŚ?â The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other.Â
Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. âItâs a charm bracelet.âÂ
Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. Thereâs six charms, one for each member of the party. âSteve.â
âHave you figured it outâoomph!â He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. âIâll take that as a yes, then.â
âHow did you get the kids to do this?â You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it.Â
Steve sighs in exasperation. âMoney and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.â
You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. âMike?â
âYup. Said something about Kermit the frog?â
âHeâs such a little shit,â you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldnât stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. âDustin?â
âHe told me about your code blues.â Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, itâd been a special thing just between the two of you.Â
With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because heâll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that itâs your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her.Â
âWhat about the ovals?â You ask Steve after heâs done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers.Â
He brushes hair out of your face and winks. âTurn them over.â
With slight confusion, you do, and discover that theyâre engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. Theyâre your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love.Â
âOh my god,â itâs perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steveâs face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. âThank you, thank you, thank you!âÂ
Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. âYou like it?â
âI love it, Steve!âÂ
âDoes this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?â He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time heâs learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, âAm I now the best boyfriend in the world?â
His words make you blush, and you donât think youâll ever get used to Steve being yours. Youâve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. âYouâve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And youâre definitely the best boyfriend in the world.â
Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. Heâs elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and youâve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isnât supposed to hurt, itâs supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold.Â
After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lakeâs waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steveâs neck and let out a sleepy exhale.Â
Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. âYou fallinâ asleep on me, Henderson?â
âIâm resting my eyes.âÂ
âVery convincing,â he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he canât believe that heâs here right now with you. After everything heâs been through, he canât believe that somehow heâs come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. âI think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.â
Itâs meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steveâs words remind you of something. Youâve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him.Â
âI was scared, last summer.âÂ
Steve tilts his head at you. âScared of what?â
âI was scared of falling in love with you,â the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steveâs eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. âLast July, you wereâŚÂ Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I justâI couldnât do it. It wouldnât have been fair, not to anyone, but Iâm sorry.â
âY/NâŚâ Steve hadnât known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. âDonât apologize, okay? I honestly wouldâve run away too, if I were you. Iâm just⌠You came back to me, in the end. Thatâs all I care about.â
Heâs too good for you. âI still hurt you.â
âYouâre human,â Steve brushes more hair out of your face. âWe all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think weâre pretty even now.â
Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. Itâs what heâs always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where youâd be without him. âWe always even our debts, huh?â
âItâs tradition at this point.â
And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steveâs reverberates into your ears, and youâre happy.Â
âÂ
A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night.Â
His knuckles rap against the glass and itâs a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didnât know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in.Â
You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change.Â
Jonathan is crying.Â
âBee, oh my God.â You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. Heâs shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. âIs everything okay?â
He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. âWeâre moving.â
Time stands still. Youâre seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.
Somehow youâre holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. Heâs moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you.Â
Your legs give out, or maybe itâs Jonathanâs, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon youâll never be able to do this again.Â
âWe need toââ Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. âWe need to promise each other thatâthat weâll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. Itâit doesnât matter how butââ
âIâve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.â Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew youâd say this, and he loves you all the more for it. âItâs been agreed.â
You nod, relieved. It isnât much, it still doesnât change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least youâll make every last second with him count. Youâll move into the Byers home if you have to, theyâre your family. Heâs your person. Heâs embedded into your skin, heâs nestled between your bones.Â
Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other.Â
The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two.Â
Now, holding onto each other as the world youâve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.
â
Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.
You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steveâs car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you shouldâve seen it coming.Â
âYou put your mom down as a reference?â Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship.Â
âYeah, why not?â Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. âSheâs like, super well respected.â
You share a look with Robin. âRich kids,â you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, youâll neve quite get over how well connected he is. Itâs bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.
âWhatever, call me a rich kid, but itâs my car you guys get free rides in.â
Robin rolls her eyes. âYouâre such a dingus.â
âI didnât ask to be here,â you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the storeâs door open for you and Robin. âI think this could count as kidnapping.â
Robin bumps her hips against yours. âNot technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?â
You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. Youâve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. Thereâs good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoopâs small shorts and sailor hats. âItâs not so bad in here.â
âWhy thank you, pretty lady.â A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.
Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. âShe doesnât need you thanking her, buddy.â
You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the âgeneral managerâ on Keithâs name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he canât piss off the guy hiring. âSteve, why donât we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?â
âWhatââ He doesnât have a chance to argue, youâre already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick âgood luck!â to Robin as you leave.Â
She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. âDingus, what are your three favorite movies?â
Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. âUh, Animal House?â You can practically hear Robinâs disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, âWhat are my favorite movies?â
âI donât know!â You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. âJust, name two other movies. Animal House canât be too bad, right?â
âStar Wars,â Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses.Â
The manager stares blankly at him. âA New Hope?â
âA new what now?â
You drop your head into your hands and sigh. Heâs hopeless. Already knowing itâs a lost cause, you mumble to him, âItâs a Star Wars movie, Steve.â
He snaps his fingers. âRight! Yeah, itâs the one with the teddy bears, isnât it?â Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing heâs fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. âNo? Uh⌠Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and heâs trying to bang his mom.â
âOh, dear.â Itâs a trainwreck, one you canât look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. âSteve?â
âYeah?âÂ
âStop talking.â
âUh, yeah.â Steve clears his throat, he knows heâs rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldnât have dragged you here for the interview. âThose are my top three. Classics.â
Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, âYou start Monday.â He points to Steve, âYou start never.â And then he points to you, âYou can start whenever.â
âOkay, I get why youâre telling me no,â Steve waves a hand in front of you, âbut she didnât even apply!âÂ
Youâre also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. Sheâs good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. âWill you just, um⌠Will you guys give us a minute?âÂ
âWhy?â Steve doesnât move, and you want to throw a shoe at him.Â
âLetâs go, pretty boy.â You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesnât fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. âThanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy Iâm currently dragging.â
Robin snickers at Steveâs offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while youâre distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini.Â
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. âShit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.â Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. âOwn any red bikinis?â
You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. âIn your dreams.â
âI can sleep right now and find outââ
âI will flick you again.â
âA kiss is preferred, but whatever.â
âÂ
When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack.Â
You spent the night in Jonathanâs room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night.Â
As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathanâs room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyls, sort through his mixtapes. When he isnât looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He wonât notice theyâre gone until heâs halfway to California.Â
When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathanâs life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you canât take it anymore. You go into Willâs room, and itâs the same. You cry, he cries with you, and itâs bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.
Elâs room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and youâre both silent as you move through the room together.Â
With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. Itâs all there, pieces of you frozen in time.
As you tape a box labeled âgamesâ in Jonathanâs messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. Itâs one of Maxâs better days, sheâs teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and sheâs in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door.Â
You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathanâs room. Heâs leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one youâve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything.Â
All of Jonathanâs boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. Thereâs a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and youâre never giving them back. Theyâre all you have left of him.Â
You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. âItâs so⌠empty.â
Nancy crosses her arms. âIs that everything?â
âI guess so,â Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. Thereâs scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought itâd be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room.Â
Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. âSeventeen years of my life⌠packed up in one day.â
His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathanâs direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that youâre telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.
You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you canât say goodbye just yet.Â
âThank you,â she whispers, following after Jonathan.Â
You find El as sheâs leaving Joyceâs room. Sheâs holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. Itâs a sad day for everyone, youâll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesnât stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug.Â
âIâll miss you so much, sweetheart.â You mumble, kissing the top of her head. âI donât know whoâs going to paint my nails now.â
El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. âI can ask Mike to.â
You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. âIâd love to hear how that goes.â
âI will write you,â El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce.Â
The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. Sheâs kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. Theyâre baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that theyâre Hopperâs.Â
A lump forms in your throat. She shouldnât be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. âHere, let me help.â
Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. Itâs a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him.Â
âI donât blame you, you know.â Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. âAt all.â
You look up at her, sucking in a breath. âI donât⌠I donât know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.â
âThe guilt, honey.â She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. âI know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldnât. You have to let go of it. I wantâŚâ Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. âI want you to promise me that youâll live the life that you deserve, because youâve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?â
âIâŚâ Youâre crying, you donât know what to say. For years youâve carried the guilt of Willâs disappearance, and for even longer youâve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyceâs words undoes something in you. âI promise.â
Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as sheâs always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. âYouâre the best of them.â
Youâre not sure how long you cry in Joyceâs arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. Theyâre leaving soon, heâll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son.Â
Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after heâs said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. Thereâs a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do.Â
âHey, little bee.â
He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. âY/N!â
Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. Heâs grown so much since you first met him. Heâs no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you canât believe you wonât get to finish watching him grow up. âI swear, youâre going to be taller than me next time I see you. Wonât be able to call you little bee anymore.â
âIâll always be your little bee,â Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you.Â
âGood,â you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. âIâll miss you, but Iâm sure you already know that.â
âIâll miss you, too.â Willâs voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if heâs afraid of something.
You frown. âHey, what is it?â
âIâm scared,â The words rush from his mouth. âWhat if⌠What if I donât make any friends?â He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. âIâIâm different, Y/N.â
Willâs fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you canât. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. âYouâre the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that youâll be fine. I mean, youâll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, Iâm just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.â
You stroke the boyâs cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. âIâm rooting for you, always.â
Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end heâll be okay. Heâs a brilliant kid, heâs been through more than anyone else his age ever has. Heâs resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day.Â
As you pull away from the hug, Willâs eyes catch on someone, you turn around. Itâs Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you.Â
Itâs time to say goodbye.Â
Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.Â
A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathanâs shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.
âI made you something,â Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. âI, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.â
You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long itâd take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. Thereâs eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you donât know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. âHow long have you been making this, bee?â
Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. âA while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, Iâll never have to know.â His demeanor is odd, thereâs something heâs not telling you, but itâs your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it.Â
âYouâre not allowed to find a new best friend.â You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. Itâs a joke, though truthfully you donât want Jonathan to find another best friend. Heâs supposed to be yours, only yours, and youâre supposed to be his.Â
âI wouldnât dream of it.â Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and youâre going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. âI mean, we were kids together, bug.â
You start to cry, and he does as well. Youâve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathanâs childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and itâs all so unfair.Â
Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight.Â
âBee, we were more than just kids together.â
And itâs true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart.Â
âÂ
The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, youâre all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye.Â
You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared heâs been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead.Â
âRemember what you promised me, okay?â She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what sheâs telling you. âLive the life that you deserve.â
âI will,â you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van.Â
Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. âIâll always love you the most, bee.â
âAnd Iâll always love you the most, bug.âÂ
Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancyâs hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until itâs just you and your brother standing in front of the house.Â
Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again.Â
You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky
Joyceâs words ring in your head.
Itâs time to live the life that you deserve. Youâre on your own now, though you know that really you arenât. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will.Â
The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist.Â
Youâre no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. Youâre loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new.Â
Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.
And you believe her.Â
[END OF SEASON THREE]
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â series masterlist
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Something Iâve often found really compelling in Adventure Time is how The Grass Sword/Grass Demon/Fern found up becoming one of the most prominent and disturbing antagonists of the series pretty much by complete accident.
Like itâs easy to forget after Fern has become such a prominent character both in the show and fandom, but the âcurseâ of the Grass Longsword started out and spent much of the show entirely benign. All it really did was cause the sword to stick to Finn. If anything, the sword/curse was quite beneficial to Finn, providing him with a prosthetic arm and activating on several instances to protect him. Really, the entire point of the original Blade of Grass episode was that the sword was actually pretty useful.
It was only AFTER stabbing and later merging with the Finn Sword to create Fern that the âcurseâ started becoming actively malicious.
In hindsight, I think itâs pretty clear that while the Grass Spider/Octopus/Demon âcurseâ entity within the Grass Sword may have been malicious, for the longest time it had no way of actually controlling or otherwise influencing Finn. The sword may have bonded to Finnâs body, but NOT to his mind, or more importantly his soul. This left Finn free to use the sword, and later even the grass-prosthetic freely without any danger or corruption from the curse.
But then Finn accidentally used it to stab the Finn Sword. As we see in Two Swords, this for the first time gave the Grass Demon/Curse direct access to a soul, the soul of the alternate Finn within the Finn Sword. A soul that it was able to corrupt and influence and ultimately merge with to create Fern.
This is one of those things that I think a lot of the fandom seems to miss: Fern isnât some quirky doppelganger or a âbrotherâ to Finn. He is straight up a distorted, corrupted version OF Finn (the alternate iteration of him within the Finn Sword) manifested by the CURSE of the Grass Sword.
As in, basically EVERYTHING Fern does that deviates from the ânormâ that is Finn can be considered the work OF the curse. From more overt stuff like his tendency to âstab first, ask questions laterâ or the times he âflips outâ, to more subtle things like his brooding or just the fact that he has a noticeably different voice (the voice of the Grass Demon mind you), ALL of these are the product of the Curse.
And itâs this fact which makes Fern a truly tragic character. Because he was effectively doomed from the very start. Despite Fernâs attempts to do good and Finnâs and Jakeâs attempts to accept him as his own person, Fern simply could not escape the curseâs influence. Because that curse was the very thing that created and maintained his physical body. It WAS his body. And this curse wanted nothing but to subvert, influence and ultimately CONTROL him for its own ends.
I think we can very easily assume that all of Fernâs failures, all his insecurities, everything that drove him to turning on Finn and trying to kill him and becoming the Green Knight in the final season, ALL of that was the result of the curseâs influence. Trying to whittle and break down Fernâs will so that it could mold him into whatever it wanted. And there was NOTHING Fern could do to stop this. Because the curse made itself a core part of what he was.
When Finn and Fern finally enter his mental world and destroy the Grass Demon in Come Along With Me, we see Fern as he truly is: simply another version of Finn who has been corrupted by the curse.
And with the Grass Demon dead, there is nothing to maintain Fernâs physical body, causing him to soon fade away. In order for this alternate Finn to be saved, he couldnât exist as âFernâ.
Of course this also means that âFernâ didnât actually DIE at the end of the series. He simply reverted back to his true form: The Finn Sword.
And what I find so compelling and tragic about all this is that NONE of it had to actually happen. The Finn within the Finn Sword didnât need to be put through all this suffering. Like it seems pretty clear that the Finn that become the Finn Sword was perfectly content being a sword. He didnât need to be corrupted and spend the last two and half seasons being manipulated by a grass octopus demon.
Because when you think about it, ALL of this happened by accident. If Finn hadnât lost the Finn Sword to Bandit Princess, or if heâd been able to simply avoid stabbing it with the Grass Sword during his fight with her, NONE of this would have happened. Finn would still have the Finn Sword and the Grass Sword would have likely remained benign and helpful to him. Heck, given how Finn seems to fully regain the use of the Grass Sword in his fight with Bandit Princess, he probably would have been able to duel-wield the Grass Sword and Finn Sword together.
This is really what I find to be the tragedy of Fern: That two of Finnâs greatest tools wound up becoming one of his most dangerous adversaries, and even worse that the Finn who became the Finn Sword was tortured and corrupted for no real reason, all essentially by accident.
#adventure time#adventure time analysis#finn mertens#finn the human#fern the human#the grass sword#the finn sword#now that i think about it calling him 'fern' almost feels insulting#like we insist on calling this finn a name that represents one of the worst times of his life#imagine the au where finn DOESN'T stab the finn sword?
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How does Sans feel about Papyrus' death ?
A lot of common Undertale-related debates revolve around the morality of a character.
But among these, the one about Sans' reaction to Papyrus' death somewhat stands out. Both because of how widespread it is, but also because of the way two opposite yet equally inaccurate interpretations of it repeatedly seem to clash against one another.
So let's take a look at how Sans actually behaves in Undertale after his brother is killed :
First, we can observe a number of changes in his behavior, showcasing that he is not unaffected by it.
To start with an obvious one, the fact that nearly all of Sans' other casual appearances during that playthrough will be gone, Sans just... doesn't show up.
No pranks with telescopes, no stacking 29 hotdogs on your head.
While one flavor text with Shyren mentions that he is still 'watching over us' in some form even then due to his promise, he is evidently not as thrilled about this as usual.
But his lack of enthusiasm when it comes to watching over Frisk isn't the only thing that changes.
For instance, there is a present for Papyrus under the tree in Snowdin. However, as soon as Papyrus is killed and Sans vanishes, the present disappears along with him. Implying that Sans has retrieved the gift that his brother will not be able to open anymore.
He also appears to not have gone to Grillby's after our passage in Snowdin this time around. Something that's apparently quite unusual for him as it is part of his routine for that time of day.
And of course, in some iterations of his judgement scene in neutral routes :
...Needless to say that claiming Sans is totally unaffected by the death of his brother is inaccurate. While we do not see much of it, it is fairly solidly implied that Sans does grief his brother at least in his own way. And he does hold it against us to an extent.
However, that isn't all there is to it.
Sans' knowledge of RESETs does play a role in the way he handles the situation. Just not quite in the way it is often portrayed.
First, Sans may be aware of resets, but he does not remember them. This means that for a given Sans, the loss of his brother still feels permanent for that particular timeline iteration's Sans.
Knowing his brother will probably be alive again in another timeline eventually doesn't mean his loss in this one isn't real. Even if it does happen, he will not be there to see it. At least not this version of him.
However, Sans does still have a couple tricks up his sleeve, that maybe, if things work out, could spare of that fate the other Sans'es.
I showed this line earlier on :
However, this line isn't just Sans showing us his feelings about our actions. Instead, it is a part of a much more tricky strategy Sans begins engaging in after Papyrus is killed :
Psychological warfare.
The anomaly has reset this world many times before, and in neutral routes, he is left with the impression that it will likely do so again. This thought had previously been a demotivating one for Sans as he explained in genocide.
This was the case whilst Sans lived a semi-regular life under the constant threat of everything being undone on the snap of a finger.
However, now that what Sans incorrectly believes to be the anomaly has revealed itself and killed his brother, the situation has actually somewhat changed.
A reset, while it would wipe out his memories, would still bring his brother back to a different Sans. Papyrus' death doesn't have to be truly permanent. Because of this, Sans now wants the anomaly to reset. Not to keep doing it forever, but at least just one more time, to make sure that this timeline won't be the one that'll end up sticking around for good.
He also has a secondary motive :
While he is at it, he might also try to get the anomaly to changes its ways. Of course, Sans knows he's not a time traveller, not a god, but just a guy who is probably not capable of forcing a being such as the anomaly to change.
That being said, maybe, just maybe, he could help in giving it a little push to make it decide to want to change on its own.
To incite a RESET to happen, Sans has one main strategy : Making the anomaly regret its actions.
Sans believes that the anomaly keeps on RESETing the world because it is unable to find fulfillment, and that it keeps consuming timelines out of a desire to find happiness one way or another.
Thus, Sans aims to make the anomaly feel like this timeline can't be what they were looking for. Ensuring that, for the anomaly's quest for happiness to continue, they will have no choice but to reset this timeline as well.
That is the reason why Sans asks us this question :
The question was very carefully chosen on his part.
It both serves to confirm the anomaly's identity, but also more importantly, no matter what they answer, it allows him to either point out that the anomaly's actions did not match with their own morals, or forces them into making a selfish confession which he can then use to make them feel like they've done the wrong thing.
In either case, Sans is able to present his brother's death as an event that would only bring the anomaly further unhappiness. And thus, might get the anomaly to reach by itself the conclusion that the only way for it to find happiness now would be to RESET this world once more and avoiding killing Papyrus again in the future. A pretty good outcome for Sans.
This is what he refers to as taking it the 'easy way' to deal with an aggressive anomaly in a few routes. (as opposed to the 'hard way' he mentions halfway through his genocide dialogue).
In the neutral endings in which Papyrus was slain, Sans once again attempts a similar strategy. Although the awareness that a RESET still hasn't taken place even after quite some time passed since the anomaly was last seen in the underground & his last attempt at it is likely quite worrying to him.
This leads him to be a little more blunt than last time when it comes to the ways he tries to make the anomaly feel like this timeline isn't the one. Although his approach method remains broadly the same.
Though these lines are still rather noteworthy :
Given Sans wants the anomaly to go back, they might sound odd to hear at first.
It turns out that the more brutal we have been throughout the run, the less optimistic Sans' approach to dealing with the anomaly becomes during the phone call.
Here, Sans might be trying to play on another bleaker aspect of his psychological profiling of the anomaly : The consideration that they may view the world as a kind of game to explore, in which if they 'can', then they 'have to'.
By saying it is not welcome down here, he is also saying that it won't be able to keep exploring the possibilities of this world unless it makes them all forget everything.
In another of the neutral endings where both Toriel and Papyrus are killed, Sans seems to begin to doubt wether the anomaly can really be redeemed after all.
This all ultimately culminates in the leaderless endings.
In this one, Sans acknowledges that this is likely not our first time hearing him saying those kinds of things over the phone.
And that his 'strategy' seems to have failed to push it towards the right path.
In this route, Sans appears to have reached a similar conclusion as in the genocide one, that his hope of a redeemable anomaly merely looking for happiness may have been just naive/wishful thinking on his part after all.
In sum, Sans' awareness of the RESETs does not prevent him from missing his brother if Papyrus is killed. However, it allows him to weaponise his own grief using the psychological profile he has made of the anomaly in order to attempt to push it to RESET. Although he knows his own memories would be wiped out if he is successful, it would ensure Papyrus' death isn't permanent. Depending on the run, he also still harbors a dwindling hope that the anomaly itself could be steered towards a better path.
He mostly just needs to convince them to RESET one way or another though.
Past that point, it'll be up to the other Sans'es.
#undertale#undertale theory#sans#sans undertale#undertale sans#papyrus#papyrus undertale#undertale papyrus
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How To Energetically Get The Most Out Of Your School/Work Life - âł
Since weâre getting into the groove of thingsâŚletâs gaur!!!! For entertainment purposes.
From left to right. Breathe and choose the one(s) you can't keep your eyes off of.
TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.
Pile 1 | boomer mentality?
⢠change your ways. Bad habits, weak ways of thinking- sure, itâs uncomfortable. Growth is uncomfortable. Success is uncomfortable (Iâm pretty sure someone super famous said that once maybe someone should remind me- đ¤) . Youâll find that if you look at things from a new perspective, a new angle, itâll be beneficial for you in the long run. Just like looking at stress in a good way- there are studies on it that show that if you look at stress in a more positive way and use it to your advantage, you could really stretch out your life and live longer than those who were pessimistic about it (lol fun fact for you)
if you let go of the old, your luck will change. embrace these new changes, beliefs, environments, and people.
donât keep your time and resources to yourself. allow for self reflection and transformations to happen!
big focus: donât let history repeat itself. itâs time for a change! let go and let in.
âââââââââ
Pile 2 | feeling stuck or stagnant
⢠pile 2, you tend to overthink everything. You let your mind run its course. That ainât good news. It prevents you from reaching new heights- prevents you from even starting on something, just because of fear or even roots of perfectionism. Thereâs a huge lack of motivation, confidence, and trust in yourself- so much that even when I was pulling your cards they were hesitant to come out. it feels like russian roulette but itâs firing on its own. some people here might tend to overreact/throw a tantrum as well or be immature in situations that need sensibility (in this case, ya gotta take this time to mature.)
⢠I feel this group has trouble with balance in general. Nothing wrong with that on occasion but if thatâs your default setting and youâre stuck in your mind all day, wondering about this and thatâjust a crazy clash of thoughts and ideasâruminating and running around in a vicious cycle full of mental bullshit then itâs gonna stop you. Itâs gonna stop you from growth, from achieving things, from getting started, from living life normally. Thatâs the bare minimum, isnât it? All we gotta do is breathe and when life makes it hard, the brain works harder. The mind is truly the most dangerous thing and you have to embrace it, marinate in it, and pick at it. find out where the balance is between intuition, logic, and emotion.
you might feel restricted and the need to break free, but what you also need is a breather to calm down and assess yourself before making decisions. rmr, deep breaths.
â˘Do your own research, form your own opinions, figure out who you are, how you operate, and what you want in life. Thatâs how you begin to build character. Thatâs how you can move forward, even if itâs little by little. (A more stable foundation comes outta that too.)
big focus: practice self control. when they say âlead with your head,â they really mean the control center of logic, intuition, and emotionâŚbut whoâs doing more of the controlling here, you or your mind?
ââââââââââ
Pile 3 | âhow could I miss that?â
⢠What you need to focus on is slowing down. itâs easy to miss things when weâre busy or taking on a lot of responsibilities. give yourself some love and careâtend to those inner callings. Itâs good for your mental health as well. Remember: mental becomes physical.
⢠put yourself first for once. Connect with yourself and loved ones- go on one of them self dates- Yessir those exist đł
⢠pile 3, you are easily the most efficient and speedy group- cards were legit being shuffled like they were being handled like a pro- but you know the con of that? You miss all the moments you couldâve had with friends, lovers, family. Yourself. You get to miss all the details because things are going too fast pow pow pow one after the other until it piles up and then you end up beating yourself up for small and simple mistakesâŚcalm down and adjust yourself. You will be okay.
⢠Iâm telling you fam- TAKE BREAKS. Give yourself moments to relax and rejuvenate before you push yourself!! You put too much pressure on yourself as it is
⢠connect with your inner feminine energy when you have the timeâyou gotta MAKE that time for yourself
⢠donât be so neglectful in your relationships btw! Romantic, platonic, familial, wtv- learn how to manage your time so that you can separate work and assignments with social relations. Keep that communication up!! This includes your inner and outer voice. Reflect and acknowledge how you feel.
big focus: be more open minded to making new connections! spend more time with others. youâll find emotional happiness and fulfillment in it :)
ââââââââââââ
Ending Teddy note:
Hello hollywood people đ it has been a long minute! thank you for taking the time to read through thisâYOU ARE AWESOME!!! Always remember to take what resonates and leave what doesnât! Iâll cya fam ciao :)
#tarot reading#tarotblr#intuition#daily tarot#tarot blog#pac tarot#love pac#pac reading#divination#divine feminine#spiritual growth#pick a pile#pick a card#pick a photo#pick a card reading#relationship pac#tarot witch#tarot advice
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Sonic Prime Season 3: Final episodes, final thoughts
Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of Sonic Prime are out on Netflix, concluding the story of Sonic's adventures in the Shatterverse. I've previously shared my thoughts on the first and second seasons, which I was pretty mixed on, but there were still glimmers of hope. The fluid animation, Shadow being fun in all his appearances, Nine being fairly interesting as a jaded alternate version of Tails, etc. There was enough to make me believe that after some highs and lows there was still the possibility that this show could end on a high note - or at least a decent note.
This did not happen.
Sonic Prime's final season sucks. The ending sucks, and the road to get there sucks. It's left me wondering what the point of all this even was. There are still moments I like that I'll try to highlight, and the animators and voice cast are still clearly giving it their all, but these efforts sadly don't outweigh the overwhelming mediocrity of the story. I would barely even recommend other Sonic fans who are on the fence go out of their way to finish it. I won't begrudge people who got more out of this show than I did, but I think overall I just really, really dislike Sonic Prime.
...The problem, of course, is that all other discussion of the show has been overshadowed by needlessly hostile arguments over its place in Sonic's canon. So we've gotta talk about that, too.
(This post will contain full spoilers for Sonic Prime.)
The show's out of ideas but they've gotta stretch that shit out to hit the 23 episode mark somehow
Season 2 ended with the big twist that Nine decided to betray Sonic and Shadow, taking the Paradox Prism for himself so that he could go turn the empty world of the Grim into his own little paradise, since he doesn't believe he'll fit anywhere else. Nine has made himself the true big bad of the show.
The main impact this has is that now, instead of fighting endless identical Eggforcer bots and members of the Chaos Council over and over, the good guys and the Chaos Council have to fight endless Chaos Sonic-style robots sent by Nine while he goes "grrrrr I need Sonic's energy to stabilize the Paradox Prism." This continues for six whole episodes until the series finale, when the show decides it's time for Sonic and Nine to quickly make amends, fix everything, and send Sonic and Shadow home.
That's pretty much the whole season.
I cannot emphasize enough just how much of this final season is just fight after fight after fight against Nine's bots, and how fucking boring that gets. The season feels like one long, drawn out final battle that did not need to be nearly this long, but Nine had his big heel turn 2/3 of the way through the show and we've gotta fill up the rest of the time somehow. The novelty of the bots being based off of Sonic's friends (including the Chocobo-sized Birdie from the jungle world) really wears off quickly when they're just used as generic, silent mooks that the good guys have to fight by the dozen like it's the climax of an MCU movie. The first episode of the season with Sonic and Shadow fighting the new bots is pretty good, especially because Sonic and Shadow's dynamic is one of the few redeeming aspects of this show's writing, but after that it just gets boring. Three full episodes in a row are spent showing all the characters fighting robots in an empty wasteland while Nine scowls next to a big beam of energy. I found myself missing the in-your-face attitude of Chaos Sonic so much. He truly was one of the best parts of this show.
While the cast is busy fighting all these robots for what feels like an eternity, various things of varying levels of interest happen. There's a halfhearted attempt to have some kind of rivalry between Shadow and the main Grim Sonic throughout the final battle, but it completely falls flat because Grim Sonic has no personality whatsoever. It's like Shadow beefing with an above-average Egg Pawn. (Actually, no, that would be funny.) There's also a death fakeout with the two other versions of Tails, where they make a makeshift bomb and throw it a little too close to themselves on the battlefield and seem to get vaporized. If they had actually died there they would have had the funniest, most pointless deaths in the entire franchise.
I also realized at one point that they were trying to do the Avengers girl power fight thing with the three versions of Amy fighting a bunch of Rouge bots. This was very funny to me. Actually, so much of this is just following the tired MCU formula to the letter. Fighting over a macguffin, two armies just kind of running at each other and clashing in a big empty field, constant one-liner quips instead of actual jokes, the need to take out key targets to make the whole enemy army disappear, a villain who has a point but has to randomly hurt people so that there's an excuse for the heroes to fight him. When combined with how shit the multiverse stuff is, this whole show really is just Man of Action tackling some of the most played out storytelling tropes in modern pop culture in the most bland way possible. What a bunch of hacks.
By far, the one truly fun thing that happens in this protracted final battle is when a giant robot based on Big appears. It doesn't have arms or legs, but it can swing itself around to use its tail like a giant mace, and it can also shoot Froggy-shaped missiles out of its mouth. I wish the rest of the show was even half as fun as this. Again, Sonic Prime has just enough good moments to make you mad that the rest of the show isn't better.
The thing is, all this repetitive (but well-animated) action and the thin excuse plot would be totally serviceable if I just gave a shit about the characters involved. But I don't. I don't care what happens to the pirate version of Amy who goes "arrr." I don't care about what happens to Hipster Eggman. And unfortunately, by the end, I didn't really care about Nine, either.
Nine as a villain
It's hard to criticize the story here without it coming off as a broad condemnation of the tropes at play. The thing is, I like many stories that try to do similar things. I love clashes between heroes and villains that are really just fantastical exaggerations of more personal conflicts. I love stories where a tragic, sympathetic villain lashes out at the world as an expression of the pain they feel, and a compassionate hero just has to get through to them. I eat that shit right up. Undertale is my favorite game ever made. Shit, I love other Sonic stories that do these exact things. And Sonic having to fight an alternate timeline version of Tails also has so much potential for drama!
So I can very easily imagine a version of the show where all this works for me. That just isn't the version we got.
Like I said last time, Nine's motivation is just too sympathetic and understandable for his sudden turn to supervillainy to make any sense. He just wanted to start over somewhere where he can be happy after a childhood filled with bullying and loneliness. Nine betraying Sonic and stealing the Paradox Prism to go make his own world? That tracks! Especially since we don't even know if Nine will still exist if Sonic goes through with his plan to restore his original world! But trying to kill everyone in New Yolk City by tilting the world 90 degrees, intentionally targeting the civilian population because it'll get to Sonic? Nope! Sorry, that's a bridge too far. I don't buy it. He's jaded and antisocial, but he doesn't strike me as cruel. Writing in an excuse about him needing Sonic's energy to fix the Prism does not make this make more sense.
This was really just one of those conflicts where it felt like everyone should stop and talk it out. Instead we got six episodes of fighting before one of Sonic's many, MANY attempts at reasoning with Nine throughout the season finally works. This isn't me pulling some Cinema Sins bullshit where I complain about characters in a work of fiction not always behaving rationally - the real problem is that it's just so damn repetitive waiting for this conflict to resolve. This could have been wrapped up in two or three episodes and instead it takes seven.
A brief aside about that weird Dorkly-ass Sonic Advance 3 flashback scene hacked together with mismatched sprites where Gemerl happens to be present, presumably just because he's a part of the sprite for the Sunset Hill boss, and seeing him briefly makes me remember the extended cast from the games and how much I wish they had just made a cartoon about them instead of a bunch of stock characters wearing the skin of Sonic's friends, but then Gemerl just explodes with the boss machine at the end while Eggman is shown to get away so I guess Gemerl just dies in this flashback
Yeah that sure happened huh
The ending
Despite having a final battle that felt like an eternity, Sonic Prime is a show that just kind of... ends. And that ending is weird and haphazard.
The understanding I had was that Sonic's normal world had "shattered" when the Paradox Prism was destroyed, and from those remnants these new worlds were created. This is why they use terms like "Shatterverse" and "Shatterspaces" and why there's shattered glass/crystal/whatever imagery everywhere. This is a broken, fragmented version of the real universe. Right? Right?? Isn't that the entire premise of the show? And therefore, if the universe has been shattered, then fixing it means putting all the shattered pieces back together. Which I would assume means that the Shatterspaces cease to exist.
So, in the ending... Sonic's world seems to just exist as another Shatterspace. Restoring the Paradox Prism doesn't seem to combine the worlds or anything, it just fixes the broken portal to Sonic's world that exists alongside all the others. So... what exactly was the point of all the shattered glass symbolism?
Things only get more confusing as the ending progresses. Shadow brings Sonic through the portal before the draining of Sonic's whatever energy makes him disappear, and they're transported back in time to right before Sonic broke the Paradox Prism. Only Sonic seems to remember what happened (Shadow might remember, but he doesn't say anything), and with the Paradox Prism never shattered, it's unclear if the Shatterspaces exist now.
I'm not particularly hung up on the time loop ending. It's very much in line with all sorts of classic morality tales like A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, where the flawed protagonist goes through some kind of magical experience and then returns home with a new appreciation for the people in their life. It's always been pretty obvious that was the type of story they were telling. I'm more bothered by the fact that there's no time whatsoever spent on whether or not the other worlds and the characters in them continue to exist. Sonic seems to act like the worlds will go on without him before he leaves, but it's not like we get an ending scene that shows how the other worlds are doing, so they really truly might as well not exist anymore. Sonic just wraps up the adventure from the first episode when he gets home, and before he can explain what happened from his perspective he's interrupted by a mysterious energy wave from off-screen and it's off to the next adventure.
(Despite this odd cliffhanger ending, the show is extremely over and not coming back. I have to imagine this is just a "the adventures never end" type ending and not a hint that more shit is going on with the Paradox Prism.)
This ending is also a terrible resolution to Nine's whole arc, despite him being the driving force of so much of the show. The way I see it, there are are three possible fates for him:
The Shatterspaces continue existing, and things go as Sonic expects them to go. Nine is allowed to make the Grim into his own little utopia, and everyone else leaves him alone instead of punishing him for all the trouble he caused. Instead of finding love and acceptance so he can heal from a lifetime of bullying and loneliness, Nine is allowed to run away, isolating himself from every other living being in the multiverse, and live alone as the god of an empty world with only his own creations as company. Sonic was his only friend, and he's gone forever now.
The Shatterspaces continue existing, but because of the time travel ending, most of the events of the show never happened. Sonic never helped defeat the Chaos Council, so they still control New Yolk City. Nine is back to living in this dystopian city with no friends. He never met Sonic.
The Shatterspaces have been erased. After fighting so hard for his right to exist as his own person and not just a "wrong" version of Tails, when the timeline is altered, he just... stops existing. Along with almost every other character in the show.
Do I even need to explain why these are all unsatisfying?
Misc. thoughts
I skimmed over this, but a lot of the final season is just spent seeing Sonic's friends bicker with the Chaos Council and then Sonic has to beg them to get along to save the universe. It gets old.
We also never really got an explanation for why the Chaos Council exists. They can't have come from other Shatterspaces because there ARE no other Shatterspaces. If the original Eggman was just split into five guys or time travel was involved or whatever, it never comes up. I can live with this, but it seems like an odd omission for a children's show that's constantly bogged down in technobabble explaining the mechanics of its extremely small and finite multiverse.
I have no idea where Shadow was for the first part of the final battle. I figured Nine must have captured him off-screen after Sonic first left the Grim, but Shadow was just... hanging around until his cue in the script, I guess?
Sonic saying "help a brother up" to Shadow was funny
Hipster Eggman pointing to one of the few nameless extras who tagged along for the final battle and going "Who are you? Seriously, does anyone know who this is?" was the only funny thing he did in the entire show
Mangy Tails randomly pressing buttons on the Chaos Council's generator like a curious animal and managing to improve its output was cute
Rusty Rose randomly realizes that the Birdie in her chest actually isn't being used as a power source, and that the Chaos Council was just... using that to manipulate her, somehow? I don't really know how that works but whatever
The Sonic Advance 3 flashback uses the actual boss music from the game, but they can't use the real Sunset Hill theme because they didn't wanna pay Masato Nakamura for using the Green Hill motif, I guess
To my fellow fans of bad games: did you know that Man of Action wrote the story for the bizarre Square Enix game The Quiet Man? The one where the lengthy FMV cutscenes play out with muffled audio and no subtitles because the protagonist is deaf, so you can't tell what's going on? And you had to do a New Game+ playthrough to actually hear the audio and understand what's going on? The worst-reviewed game of 2018? That one? I only learned that recently and it blew me away
So yeah, that's the end of the show. I didn't like it, and I don't think I liked the show much as a whole. I am far from alone in this sentiment, but the reasons why people dislike the show... those vary a bit.
The canon conundrum
More than anything else, it seems like most other discourse surrounding this show has been consumed by one talking point:
How can this be canon? Why is it canon?
I want to state very clearly up front that I, too, am a person who's noticed and complained about the inconsistencies with the games in Sonic Prime. Some of the characters are a bit off - or, you know, completely unrecognizable when discussing the writing of some of the AU counterparts. I think it's lame to say Sonic and friends all live in Green Hill and act like that's the entirety of their world. That sort of thing. But if Sega says it's canon to everything else? Sure. Fine. There's weirder shit in the canon.
Really, most of this can be explained away pretty easily. The show was written at a time when Sega was still figuring shit out and there were looser restrictions. Why does Sonic act a little more immature? Probably just because Prime is aiming for a slightly younger audience than the games or the IDW comics. (And also it's, y'know, written by Man of Action, who people have accused of only knowing how to write one kind of protagonist for years.) Why do Sonic and friends live in Green Hill? Because that's the most recognizable location from the games, and the game world doesn't get enough screentime to justify modeling multiple different environments, so they just focus on Green Hill. Why is this considered canon to the games? Because this is the first Sonic cartoon that outright references events from the games as things that have happened to Sonic in the past.
But announcing early on that Prime would be canon certainly let fans' imaginations wander. It was one of the few things we knew about the show before it premiered. People wondered if characters from the games and comics who had never made any appearances in Sonic cartoons might get their time in the spotlight. We wondered if it would tie into the lore or any existing storylines in interesting ways, like the IDW comics do. But above all else, we hoped that its canon status would mean that Sonic Prime would finally be the Sonic cartoon that was faithful to the source material with no catches. We've literally never seen the actual world of the games brought to life in a TV show. Sonic X came the closest, but that still took its liberties. And so hype built for this Canon Sonic Cartoon.
And then it actually came out, and after a brief intro in Green Hill based loosely on the games, it spent most of its running time focusing on things like "what if there was a version of Eggman who was a bratty teen who just wanted to play video games?" The disappointment among fans is understandable. I am disappointed. Look at how much I've bitched about this aggressively mid cartoon.
Some fans, however, came up with an elaborate theory about the series. You see, when asked about the show's place in the game timeline during a live Q&A, Ian Flynn (who only served as a consultant on Sonic Prime and did not write any of it) said this:
"I cannot answer because I know the answer, and you haven't finished watching the show yet."
A couple days later, when answering another question about Prime's place in the timeline and also about a writing discrepancy, he said this:
"As to where it fits on the timeline, I can't speak to it because that would spoil the show to a degree. So you're just gonna have to wait 'til it's done. Towards the other point, I don't know how much I can say, so it's probably better that I not comment. That's a really dissatisfying answer, I know, I'm sorry, but my hands are kinda tied on that one."
I feel the need to quote Ian directly here, because these very basic statements about how he can't talk about behind the scenes shit or anything from unreleased episodes was GREATLY misinterpreted by the fandom. People clung onto Ian's claim that we had to keep watching like a life preserver. Some took it as Ian saying that the ending would explain everything. Finally, we'd have a definitive answer for every little discrepancy and the apparent differences in worldbuilding. An explanation for why Sega and the producers repeatedly insist this show HAS to be canon.
And to these fans, the only explanation that made any sense... would be if the ending of Sonic Prime pulled a Flashpoint.
As this theory explained, the Sonic we were following in Sonic Prime wasn't the Sonic we know from the games and the IDW comics, and likewise the world he comes from isn't really the game world. This is a different Sonic who fights a different Eggman in a world that's literally just Green Hill. It was a hint that something was off all along! But in the end of the series, this Sonic would sacrifice himself to merge all of the Shatter Spaces together and form a brand new world, and that would be the more visually diverse world of the games and comics. According to this theory, Sonic Prime was canon because it was a new origin story for the entire franchise.
I want you to really stop and think about how asinine of an origin story this would be. Really drink this in. The idea that there was another, slightly different version of Sonic who went on a kinda shitty multiverse adventure and then sacrificed himself to create the real Sonic that we've known since 1991. People convinced themselves this made more sense than the simple explanation that a different team of writers got some stuff wrong and Sega didn't make them change it. Interviews where producers talked about drawing on Sonic's "mythology" (ie: they reference the games in the show) were taken very literally - they must be saying that Prime's story is mythological in nature, and that this show would be integral to the games' mythology. Why bother making a show that's canon if it's not going to be crucial to that canon, after all?
The final episodes dropped, and none of this happened. Because of course it didn't. It was all Sherlock fandom-level copium. But fans were left confused by the lack of a grand reveal of where Sonic Prime fits in the timeline, believing they had been promised this, and they turned to Ian for an explanation. Ian's answer:
It doesn't matter, b/c Prime wipes itself out. It's sometime after Advance 3*, but otherwise, it's moot. I didn't want to sour anyone's expectations or investment by spoiling how Prime resolves, that's all. If you enjoyed it, awesome. Savor it. If you didn't, then you can safely ignore it. Simple as that.
* About a trillion people have um, actually'd Ian to point out Orbot and Cubot briefly appear in the show, but if we're really being pedantic here we don't actually know how long before Colors Eggman built Orbot and Cubot, so it wouldn't be fully accurate to say a story featuring Orbot and Cubot couldn't be set before Colors. Either way, a story set anywhere around Colors, or at any point later than that, could still be described as "sometime after Advance 3." Advance 3 is just the most recent game that has specific in-game events referenced in the show. Yes I can feel myself morphing into the nerd emoji before your very eyes
Anyway, this is the latest reason Ian is getting death threats on Twitter. This time it's over a show he barely even had any input on!
I'll cut to the chase. It is truly wild to me that people are getting this heated over canonical inconsistencies in a series as historically inconsistent as Sonic, to the point that they think threatening Ian is justified. The aesthetics of the entire world Sonic inhabits change every other game. Sonic Chronicles may no longer be canon due to the Penders lawsuits, but it was canon at one point, and it took huge liberties with Sonic's world, moving Green Hill off of South Island and reinterpreting Station Square as a tiny outpost in a snowy alpine forest region. Characters' personalities change from writer to writer and based on what Sega wants at the time, with some being WILDLY different across different games. One game Sonic will be stoic and cool, the next he thinks "Baldy McNosehair" is the funniest thing ever. Sega's STILL trying to figure out what Amy's personality is supposed to be. We still don't have the explanation for how the two seemingly contradictory backstories for Blaze can fit together. There have been multiple huge, sweeping retcons, and retcons to those retcons. Sonic Forces claims that Classic Sonic is from an entirely different universe than Modern Sonic, and the plot only makes any sense if that's true - otherwise, Modern Sonic would have already known Eggman was going to beat him and take over the world when he did, because his younger self had already lived through that war. All of that makes no sense in the newly reunified timeline, but Forces is very much still canon.
For fuck's sake, we're talking about the series where Eggman blew up half the moon and then it looked completely normal in every other game after, explained away as "the moon just rotated so we can't see the destroyed side from Earth." This has never, ever, ever been a franchise where everything lines up perfectly with no issues. It's not that serious.
The real core problem with Prime isn't that things don't line up 100% with our current understanding of canon, or that Sonic's characterization means this can't be the real Sonic, or anything like that. The problem, as I've been saying this whole time, is that the story is bad. None of these discrepancies would truly matter if the story was better. They'd just be nitpicks. The fact that Sonic and friends live in Green Hill would be the farthest thing from my mind if the drama was more engaging, if the villains were better, if the jokes were actually funny, if more of the alternate universe counterparts of Sonic's friends had more than one generic character trait each, if the multiverse was more creative and varied, if the final seven episodes of this show didn't devolve into the third act of an MCU movie and then just arbitrarily end, if Nine's character arc actually had a satisfying conclusion instead of ending with either isolation or nonexistence. Maybe we'd be seeing people talk about more than just whether or not it should be considered canon if the writing was any good.
"Canon" is not real, and it sure as hell isn't worth sending people death threats over. It's a storytelling tool. Real human beings decide what does and doesn't go into that canon, or how much they do or don't want to draw on past stories, when creating a new story. Serving that canon is secondary to creating a story where the emotional truth resonates with the audience. And Sonic Prime failed to do that. That is its true failing.
And finally, to close out...
Since people will ask, here are my current ranking of the Sonic TV shows, now that Prime is finished.
Sonic Boom
Sonic SatAM
Sonic X
The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog
Sonic Prime
Sonic Underground
Yes, I'd say Boom is my favorite. It's far from my ideal Sonic cartoon, but it gets a lot of points for being as funny as it is. But the top four are all shows I'd say I like, more or less. They all have their pros and cons.
So now, uh... I guess let's hope the live action Knuckles show coming to Paramount+ is better than the underwhelming synopsis of "Knuckles helps deputy sheriff Wade train in the ways of the echidna warrior" would imply? Maybe we'll get lucky?
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weird cat guy- nishimura riki x reader
a/n: THIS WAS REQUESTED BY @angrybananapolice I HOPE ITS OKAY <3
request: can i req a comfort kinda fluff with Riki? reader is that kind of friend who's like a side character in her own life. Like, she isn't known by her name, she's known as her best friend's friend. You get me? so basically, reader isn't recognised a lot but then Riki somehow waltzes into her life blah blah thats all on you and then they kiss at the end because :)
warnings: cursing, insecurity, angst, comfort, fluff, kinda romcom
wc- 600-800 words
MASTERLIST
in school you were pretty invisible, you didnât talk much and when you did your friend would accidentally overshadow you. you donât think she meant to, it just happened.
it was really frustrating you inside but you never were going to say anything. at the end of the day school wasnât forever and you could move on with your life in a couple years max. there was no reason to make a scene or beg for attention.
thatâs how your life was, blending into the background. who were you to change it?
when you walked to school with your friend you listened to her go on and on about some annoying guy in her dms. you thought she didnât realize how lucky she was for people to actually have a romantic interest in her. you had a feeling something like this would never happen to you. a guy making a fool of himself to gain your attention? funny.
âhe was so annoying all he did was yap!â you felt her hand on your shoulder. you couldnât help but laugh along, no matter how you were feeling- she had a point.
âhe really did sound like a yapper.â you started to joke with her as she continued.
âand his instagram was a little odd too! wait look!â
you watched as she pulled up his instagram, you both spent time poking fun and giggling. it was almost like middle school again.
until you got to the school building, then you faded in the background. you loved your best friend just not at school. she talked to way more people and left you by yourself socially. she would drag you around and then not truly include you.
and thatâs how youâd spend your days, doodling on your math notes, messing with your shoes under the desk, and trying not to fall asleep. rinse and repeatâŚ
however one thing did happen, on your walk home you were alone because your friend got invited to a study hall.
âiâm sorry y/n⌠will you be okay on your way home?â
you nodded and smiled at her, forced, âyeah of course! donât worry about it!â
you started your journey home by yourself, at this point you shouldâve gotten used to it. being alone. it was almost tranquil and you felt like nothing could ruin this moment for you. no school, no stress anymore, no-
âPLEASE STOP THAT CAT!â
when you looked up you saw a cat and a lanky figure sprinting towards you, the cat jumped on you and scared you so bad you fell over. the guy toppling down with you.
âwhat the hell!?â you yelled grabbing your head.
the boy looked at you, âi was trying to get that cat! i wanted him!â
you tried to stop the dizziness, âgo to a shelter then, you psycho!â
the guy stood up and grabbed your hands to help you up, âthatâs too easy!â
you finally looked at him and he was astonishingly attractive, âyouâre crazy!â you looked away from him, now embarrassed. you barely talked to people, let alone attractive people. this was so embarrassing! and it was the hot guyâs fault!
âiâm sorry for knocking you over!â he exclaimed, âlisten how can i make it up to you!â he stood there tapping his foot.
you grabbed your bag off the floor, âby leaving me alone.â
âcome on! i totally knocked you over! well technically the cat did then i tripped over you but thatâs not the point!â
you looked at him again, âyou can leave me alone and stop being weird towards stray cats.â
at that, you walked away quickly passed him. god knows what that weirdo does on his free time. chasing cats? what a dork.
the next day was like clockwork, you enjoyed your bestfriends company until school, then you lost her. school and your studies were boring- it was a review week.
you sat down at your desk for lunch, your best friend sitting by you but not with you.
âoh y/n what do-â everytime she tried to talk to you, someone else took her attention. if you tried to talk, someone talked over you.
you learned your lesson quickly.
âi heard that cute guy has been peeking into the classrooms today!â one of her friends exclaimed. one thing you learned was that listening and noting things was key to at least trying to enjoy the social aspect of school. you didnât have to be involved.
âwhich one?â your best friend asked. everyone looked at your friend.
âthat cat boy! he always chases cats and birds!â
you found yourself giggling slightly, that was ironic. what are the odds?
your best friend gasped, âoh him! he is so cute!â
they started talking amongst themselves until you heard giggling and gasping. probably some arm smacking too. which was typical in the gossip circle.
âoh my gosh itâs him! (b/f/n) heâs probably going to go over to you! what if he asks you out!â
yeah probably. you knew how this was going to play out. sheâd go out with him, probably get the ick, then heâd have a bad rep because he fumbled with the schoolâs flower.
it was then more silent than usual and you had a box of chocolates thrown on your desk.
you looked up and it was cat boy, the psycho that ran into you.
âwhatâs- whatâs this?!â your eyes widened, the boy started to snicker.
âfor running into you. my mom told me to get it.â he pulled up his chair in front of you, all eyes were on you both.
âi didnât even know you went to my school!â you whisper yelled, panicking that the attention was on you. the boy started to unpack his lunch in front of you and you hid your face from everyone.
âlikewise!â he spoke and started unpacking his lunch, âdo you like cucumbers? my mom always packs them but i donât really enjoy them.â
he started speaking like it was the most normal thing in the world.
âummmmâŚ. what are you doing?â
the boy looked up at you, âactually talking to you.â he whispered, âand having lunch. duh.â
your eyes scanned the room, your best friendâs friends still looking at you, including her. you felt nauseous.
âthis isnât a funny joke if youâre pranking me.â you said firmly, the boy looked a little shocked.
âwhy would i be pranking you? i donât have friends either.â he said simply and took a sip of his milk, he put the cucumbers on your plate.
you eyed the cucumbers, âis that why you chase cats and birds?â
he looked up at you, giggled, then nodded, âiâm riki by the way..â
ây/n.â
you honestly expected him to hang out with you once and then drop it. but that didnât happen⌠he actually continued to hang out with you. be around you, and actually talk to you. riki would remember the little things too.
he started to walk you home and you got so used to his company that it scared you. in your mind you were boring, he was probably just using you to get to your friend. youâd take whatever riki said with a grain of salt, no matter how sweet. why would you risk having feelings for someone who could just be using you?
the weather was starting to warm up and your allergies were not helping you. your head was in pain and school just wasnât it for you today. the idea of looking at the green chalkboard sounded nauseating.
you stayed home and took pain meds, around 10 am you were trying to make tea when there was a knocking at your door.
that was terrifying, it was only you home. if someone decided to break it you would probably die.
you rushed over and peeked through the window. and there was riki.
you opened the door, âwhat are you doing here.â
âyou werenât at school, can i come in?â
âcan you stop pretending you actually care?â you wrapped your arms around yourself and looked down at his feet. you were getting tired of riki being overly nice to you, especially because to you it was fake. it was a facade.
you heard a surprise noise and then a scoff.
âiâm not pretending! what do you take me for!?â
you finally got the courage to look up at him, âsomeone whoâs way out of my league and probably only using me to get to my friend, itâs happened since middle school, and she likes you too! so go to her! stop wasting my time.â you went to shut the door but riki stopped it.
âwhat the fuck are you talking about? have i ever mentioned your stupid- no offense- your stupid friend?â riki readjusted the bag on his shoulder, âi got your schoolwork too dumbass, since she said she forgot it. thatâs the one and only time iâve ever spoken to her.â
you looked at him, still in disbelief. riki looked at you, somewhat annoyed.
ây/n iâve hung out with you everyday for a month, i have no other friends because people either make fun of me for being cat boy or theyâre just trying to date me. itâs a weird 50/50.â he said simply, his stare softened.
âriki-â
âwhatâs that burning smell?â
âFUCK!â you rushed back to see the water boiling over the stove and went to fix it. you were already upset because you couldnât find the kettle, now you were upset you fucked up.
âgod! i canât do anything right!â
unbeknownst to you riki let himself in, âgo lay down. iâll make tea.â
you flipped around and looked at him, at this point you didnât feel well, you were overwhelmed, and you just wanted to lay down, âfine⌠whateverâŚâ
you laid down on the couch and tried to check your notifications, your best friend hadnât even checked if you were okay. hell, she didnât even read your text asking to get your work.
sighing you zoned out until you felt a weight next to you, âsit up and drink up.â you listened, mumbling a thank you.
âi like you.â
you choked on your tea, âyou what? riki thatâs not funny, thatâs mean. youâre being mean.â you spoke quickly and waved your hand brushing him off.
âiâm not lying to you, iâve been hitting on you this entire time!â riki exclaimed and sat back astonished.
you set the tea down, âitâs hard for me to believe you.â
âi know.â he took a deep breath and leaned his head back, âi know. clearly it is.â
you felt bad now, if he was telling the truth you were the one being mean nowâŚ
âiâm sorry, im not used to all of this.â you felt your eyes water and riki sprung into action. he softly grabbed your hands, they were freezing.
âi know you arenât, listen⌠i lied when i said i didnât know we went to the same school-â he blurted out. you looked up at him.
âwhat.â
âiâve had a crush on you since the beginning of school but i didnât know how to tell you and you were always around that stupid group that never talked to you and i felt really bad but i couldnât say anything because im known as weird cat boy and i just i was trying to catch that cat to try and impress you but i failed-â
around the middle of his speech it was like time stopped, it was now or never.
if it was a joke and your school social life was over then you could transfer online or something.
you sat up on your knees and made the boy face you, before you leaned in and kissed him.
he tensed up before easing into the kiss, when he pulled away softly he chuckled, âiâm sorry for lying about that, itâs the one thing i lied about and i felt embarrassed for liking you for so long.â
you pecked his lips again, âis it embarrassing to like me?â
âNO!â riki said quickly, âabsolutely not! i just felt like a loser, NOT BECAUSE-â
you started to laugh, âiâm just teasing you!â when you calmed down you looked at him, rikiâs ears were pink and he was just staring at you.
âthank you for being a real friend to meâŚâ you smiled at him, tearing up again.
âcan i be your real boyfriend? or am i about to get friendzonedâŚ?â
you laughed again and hugged him, well tackling him, âyou can be my real boyfriend!â
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âAt Leastâ S. Gojo
â genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
â pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
â summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
â cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesnât happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
â wc : 5.6k
â a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
âOh my god,â you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. âSatoru, is it yours?â
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
âNah, it's only staying with me for a week,â he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. âHis owner is away for some business.â
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. âCan I hold it?â
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
âIt's 400 yen for 10 minutes,â he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. âOr... you can shorten your skirt.â
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
âYou're such a fucking pervert,â you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
âYou're truly unbelievable,â the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. âWhat were you even thinking?â
âI thought it was funny, y'know?â He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.â
He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
âGojo-San?â
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
âSorry- What's up?â He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
âAre you okay? You seemed off.â
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
âYeah, yeah. I'm fine,â he smiled in assurance, âJust bothered by, well, this-â he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
âuh huh,â you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. âBy the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,â you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. âthey're expecting me to start work right after spring break.â
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. Thatâs barely a week and a half from now.
âSpring break? Why so soon?â
âThatâs when the students file back in,â you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. âIâm leaving in four days to get settled.â
âOhâŚâ His breath caught, âTrain?â
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if itâs his only trait. Heâs glad you donât question it.
âYeah, I have no other form of transport really.â
âWell, uhâŚâ He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, âcome visit us every once in a while, yeah?â
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you donât find it in you to speak of how you feel.
âYou.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but youâŚâ You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
âWell, I didnât. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in âifâ and âcouldâveâ.â
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if youâve struck a nerve, but that wasnât what you meant. Gojoâs response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You donât know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left⌠itâs safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You donât find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or thatâs what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadnât been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe itâs just your imagination.Â
Then you spot something rather out of place. Youâre sure youâve never seen it before and although you know itâs none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
Itâs red, poking out of what youâre sure is Gojoâs desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant.Â
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoruâs. You do your best to avoid looking at Getoâs desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the âcircleâ, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. Itâs near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoruâs handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didnât feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly.Â
You decide itâs probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
âI apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,â you spoke in an even tone. âI have a job and a life away from jujutsu. Iâve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.â
"Thatâs completely understandable,â the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. Youâre pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, âbut your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.â
âThank you, sir,â you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. âBut I truly apologize. The decision is final.â
âIf you ever do change your mind, please let us know. Weâd be more than happy to hear it.â
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
âYou look troubled,â Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. âWhatâs with the face?â
âHow is that man even alive,â you look at her, âheâs ancient.â
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. âIâm glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.â
âBlissed arenât you,â you roll your eyes as you speak. âI shouldnât have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.â
âItâs alright, youâre all done now. Here-â Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you donât show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that youâre dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
âSatoruâs here, by the way,â Shoko didnât need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. âHeâs calmed down. Heâd even seem the same as long as you donât squint too hard.â
âGood for him,â you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know sheâd pretend you werenât gawking at her the second she said his name.
âHeâs trying, you know. Heâs just as nervous as you are.â
ââM not nervous,â you scoff, âFor godâs sake. Itâs been ten years already.â
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. Heâd spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasnât at all. He couldnât confront it. He didnât want to. Satoru knows what heâs done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didnât want to face the consequences of what heâs done. More so what he hasnât. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. Theyâve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if heâs met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his arenât yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You donât bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. Sheâs probably just dozed off.
âHey, think you can hold this for me?â Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. âIâll be right back, natureâs calling.â
From his distance, Gojo couldnât make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didnât know you smoked. And even though heâs not completely sure what you do for a living now, heâs not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say itâs intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
âThatâs going to kill you,â his hand reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. âYouâre too young to kill yourself like that.â
âThat bitch Shoko set me up,â You hiss, regaining your composure. âWill you look who showed up. Youâre killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.â
Although you havenât glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, âYou havenât grown at all, have you?â
âOh shut it,â you chuckle. âYouâre still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.â
27⌠It felt so weird to say it out loud. Werenât you just 17 a few days ago?
âOh, how you hurt me,â he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. âThat isnât very nice of you.â
âThatâs rich coming from you,â You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what youâre referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounterâs effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. Itâs louder than any conversation youâve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fateâs doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told heâs a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
Heâs about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering âhere-â as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like theyâre straight out of some cultâs ritual, that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didnât take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
âYou found this- how did you evenâŚ?â he trails off, confused.
âI guess I did,â You confirm. Heâs unsure if youâre proud of yourself for your rather⌠interesting discovery. Itâs bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he canât deny the relief he feels that at least this means you donât completely hate him. For once, heâs truly at loss for words.Â
But he wouldnât let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
âOh, so youâre in love with me? Youâre so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.â
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
âTomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. Iâm leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Donât waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. Youâre not getting another one.â
âI take it youâve been in love with me ever since?â He leans forward, elbows on the table. âSay, did you fascinate about me?â
âHmm..â you hum softly at his childish question, âonly a little.â You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasnât known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldnât help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else youâd like to have?â You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. âOr do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?â
âHmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely itâll be a lot less lonely with me around?â
Youâre tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe itâs the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You havenât had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. Heâd lie if he said there wasnât a certain allure to your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought.Â
Heâs sure heâs going to pay. He didnât mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
âHowâs working as a jujutsu teacher?â you quip, smiling softly. âUtahime says youâve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. Youâre sure a favorite attraction for wonders.â
âYouâre still in contact with her too?â he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. âThatâs ironic. Werenât we friends too?â
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow youâve got him acting like he did when he was 17.Â
âYou didnât try to contact me either,â you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact.Â
âYou could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,â he isnât too happy and itâs showing.
âAll good things, I hope-â
âDonât change the subject,â he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. âHe was enough. You didnât have to go ahead and leave too.â
âI had to move on, Gojo,â the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldnât bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances.Â
â-I couldnât remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldnât recognize myself anymore.â
âYet youâre here now. Back to square one,â his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. âWhether you moved away or called us by our last names. Itâs a curse you canât escape. youâll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.â
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldnât come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that wonât change no matter how much you grew.
âI'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.â
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
âHe was only thirteen,â you chuckle, arm linked in his. âItâs unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.â
âI wouldâve done the same thing, honestly,â he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
âOf course. Youâve got the brains of a thirteen year old.â
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store.Â
âWhatâs this?â you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
âItâs a western brand,â Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you canât help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that heâs a model to strangers. âLouis Vuitton, I think,â He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores heâs been to with Nobara and Shoko.
âPrada, sir,â The lady in a suit corrected him. âCan I help you?â
âWeâre just browsing, thank you.â Itâs a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
Youâre soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the âSâ shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brandâs name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
âGojo,â you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. âLetâs go?â
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. Itâs not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel itâs none of your business. Youâre not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
âWhat do you wanna do now?â He asks. âWanna go somewhere else?â
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows itâs best to fear what comes after
Youâre well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
Thatâs why heâs stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldnât bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
âSatoruuu~â You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. âStay with meeeeâ
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. Itâs proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
âStop crying,â He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. âIâll stay the night, so sleep already.â
He convinced himself itâs for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reasonâ any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself itâs for your sake instead.
âBut Iâm uncomfortableee,â you whine again, hands running down your body. âThe dress...â
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. Heâll have to hold it together for tonight.
ânngh..â
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that youâre alone. You donât think much of it anyway, muttering a âholy shitâ under your breath.
âGood morning,â he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. âI made coffee, if you wanted some.â
âOh... thank you,â you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. âDid you eat anything yet?â
âNot yet, no,â he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. âThought Iâd wait until you woke up.â
âYouâre a real sweetheart, Satoru,â you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. âWhat a doting housewife God has blessed me withâ
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. âWell, at least I wasnât begging a man to spend the night with meâ
âHuh?â
You couldnât remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late.Â
Heâs shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldnât mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isnât helping at all.
âDid we...â You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You donât know what to expect, not realizing youâre holding your breath.Â
âI-Iâm sorry,â He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
âBut- donât worry. You know Iâm not some asshole...â if anything, he sounded chivalrous. âI-Iâll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?â
You gasp, face feeling hot. âYou piece of shit-â You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. âAs if!â
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. âI canât believe you fell for it,â He manages between the laughter.
âFuck you, Satoru,â you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. âI canât believe you pulled something so childish.â
âWhy are you so down?â He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. âAre you disappointed? You know itâs never too late to just as-â
âFuck off,â Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. âSay one more word about it and Iâll make sure you donât make it out of this room in one piece.â
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. Itâs a lot worse than you might think.
âYour coffee should be criminal,â you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response.Â
Thereâs no awkwardness between the two of you, and he canât help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
#syd.writes#if this doesn't show up on tags I SWEAR TO GOD#jjk#jujtsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk angs#jjk smut#mdni#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x reader smut#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru angst#satoru gojo#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader fluff
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Sleepin Demons
How Blue Lock characters wake up from nightmares/How you can comfort them [Gender neutral reader]
Tropes: Reverse Comfort, Fluff/Angst, Established Relationship, and general warnings for some gore and mentions of flashbacks along with implied sexual harassment
Characters: Almost All Of Them Lol
Songs: Insecure - Bren Joy // Coffee for Dinner - Orion Sun // Broken Clocks - SZA
The Silent Type + Actual Memories
It's the same one again. He's right back where he started. Unloved, unknown, left out of everything. The pangs of hunger run through him like a freight train as he desperately runs from room to room in his childhood home...But there's no nourishment. Someone calls his name but all he feels is fear at being recognized, he cowers as a figure rounds the corner and says his name again. "You think you could get away from me? Huh?" It could be anyone, a parent, someone he used to owe money to, an old abusive coach, all he knows is what comes next is going to hurt. "Are you fucking crying? You're so pathetic, soon everyone else will see that just like I always have!" The floor begins to sag and give way, everything creases in on itself. His brain feels like it's going to explode.
When he wakes up- his brain still feels as if it's too big for his skull, pushing against the edges like it's trying to find its way out. But he doesn't groan in pain, and he doesn't move. You're next to him after all, breathing softly. The moonlight grounds him, your hand against his side grounds him, he is safe now. The best thing you can do is stay asleep. He isn't ready to talk and admit that he's weak (or even worse...the fact that it is okay to be weak sometimes), not yet. For now he just snuggles against you and quietly brushes away any residual tears, thanking everything he believes in that he's here with you now.
Kaiser, Hiori, Naruhaya, Noa, Lorenzo
The Silent Type + More Abstract Fears
Slow. Everything was moving so fucking slow around him. His body was falling apart. Every sinew, every cell, every fucking atom of his being was breaking down and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Was this what he was truly destined for, dust to dust? Strangely enough, it didn't hurt, everything was calm. He was dying, so what? Every star burns out. And then, as sharp as a clap of thunder, the pain arrived. In his heart, not his body. Images of friends, family, trophies, all the things he hadn't done yet and you surged through his head. No, he couldn't die, not yet! He gripped his arm, but it was already turning to dust. Irrelevant and forgotten.
He's almost surprised when he wakes up, remembers that that would be impossible. Wants to scoff at himself for being afraid of something that could never happen. But the truth is, he is going to die someday, no matter how big of a star he is. He watches you twitch in your sleep, obviously disturbed by how he jerked awake, and curls his arms around you. He presses his face to the top of your head and breathes you in, silently begging you to drift back into a deeper sleep. He just needs to savor every moment with you and stop worrying, he tells himself.
Snuffy, Nagi, Ego, Aryu, Reo, Kuon, Chris, Jin
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Reassurance
Why was this happening? You were in his arms, covered in blood, he was covered in blood; It was everywhere. The cheering from the fans turned into screaming, that's when he should've stopped and had the damn sense to look around. Instead, he kept running and dribbling down the field, confused why nobody was stopping him. He didn't see you falling from the stands until you were right in front of him. Your arm twisted first, then your neck, the rest of you followed. Why was this happening? "No, no, no, no...(Y/N). Get help! What the fuck are you all standing around for?!" He took off his jersey and tried to stop the bleeding but it wasn't enough, you were already going cold. He was powerless.
"I said get help-!!" he roared. "Oh..oh fuck." He suddenly wasn't holding your limp body anymore, he was in his- your room. The smell of blood disappeared. He glanced over and made eye contact with you. "Are you okay? You're shaking like a leaf!" "No..can you, can you just come here?" He crushes you in a bear hug as soon as you do. Even when he lets up, he opts to hold your hand instead. He makes you tell him about your day, because he got in late when you were already asleep. He tells you how much he loves you and recounts the day you two met just to stop his heart from bursting. "S-sorry I woke you up, I just- I needed that."
Ness, Niko, Aoshi, Sendo, Gagumaru, Igaguri, Kurona
Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Some Space
The first thing he notices is that he can't breathe. The second thing he notices is that he is in a hospital. "No, I don't think he will ever be able to speak or move again." a voice he doesn't recognize claims. Someone is choking him and he can't stop them. It's himself, rabid, foaming at the mouth. The doppelganger realizes he's been caught and tightens his grip. "That's right, that's what you fucking get for ignoring yourself. You don't even fucking eat enough and you want to be a star, huh? You keep betraying yourself." His neck is lifted from the cold pillow. "And betraying yourself!" It's slammed back down. He wants to tell him to stop, to say anything, but he can't.
He wakes up like he's been jolted back to life by electricity, doesn't even realize he's screaming. "Baby, baby you're okay! It's okay." He feels your hands around him and feels ashamed instead of relieved. What the fuck was that?! "Just go back to sleep, I'll be back." You open your mouth to argue but he shakes his head. "Please." This is nothing you can help him with, he needs to take care of himself and he knows it. Can't keep relying on others to pull him out. He takes a cold shower and comes back to bed hours later, slipping next to you. "I'm sorry I scared you." is all he says as his hands glide over your back. It's best if you just accept his apology, you'll never fully understand the war he's having with himself.
Chigiri, Kenyu, Kunigami, Kira, Sae, Barou
You Wake Him Up + It's Not Okay
Of course he knows this is a fucking dream, how could it not be? The overwhelming lights, the strange woman putting her hands on his chest. He knows exactly what this is about too. The paparazzi have gotten way too comfortable following both you and him around, they keep asking invasive questions and posting up outside of your house. The lack of privacy should be illegal. "You're famous now, you should like this you ungrateful piece of shit." a voice hisses in his ear as another pair of hands massages his shoulders. He tenses and struggles, but more hands appear, grabbing at his clothes. They tear pieces away from him with no remorse and something deep inside of him wishes it could end- Scratch that, every part of him wishes this would end, the violation, the rumors, the-
"Hey! Are you alright? I think..I think that you were having a nightmare." He gasps, so the feeling of hands on his chest were yours. Everything that was tensed relaxes, it was just you. That doesn't stop all his feelings from welling up along with tears. "Can you not touch me right now?" God, he wishes you wouldn't look at him like that. "Are you crying?" "No." He slips out of bed and checks the curtains, he can't shake the feeling of foreign hands on every part of him, not just his chest. Disgust curls and uncurls in his stomach. Why couldn't he just fight back on his own in his own damn head? "There's no one out there-" "How do you know!? Huh?" he demands, a whole lot louder than he meant to. "Fuck wait..I'm sorry. This week has just been a lot." You two end up having a long and needed talk that night.
Lavinho, Reo, Oliver, Rin, Raichi, Tabito
You Wake Him Up + It's Okay
He has been walking in circles for hours. Each loop, though, something changes. At first it was funny, (someone's head would balloon to an impossible size or a sign would read a curse word instead of an actual street name, for example) but now he was just tired. He couldn't sit down though or this burning pain would shoot through him...Just like in the real world, if he ever stopped shining, if he ever stopped moving forward, he'd get this feeling like he wasn't doing enough. Even on vacations there would be a gnawing sense that he was running from his rightful title. All he needed was the spotlight, even if it took so much fucking effort to get there. Practicing the same kicks over and over again, walking in circles, looking for what would excite him next-
"Please stop kicking me..." you groan and he wakes up instantly. Honestly, he didn't realize how terrifying his dream was until he's lucid. "Was I kicking you? Sorry... I just had the weirdest dream, it was like I kept walking in circles and I couldn't stop." "Maybe that's your brain telling you to take a break and stop treating my shin like a soccer ball." You two continue to make light of it and the more he talks about it with you, the more relaxed he gets. He's going to be just fine, especially with you by his side. "Mnh, good night." you finally whisper, cuddling up against him and tangling your leg with his in a final attempt to prevent any future attacks. "Good night." He watches you fall asleep with love in his eyes and wonders how a job obsessed weirdo like him managed to land someone as perfect as you.
Bachira, Loki, Isagi, Shidou, Nanase, Otoya, Zantetsu,
#not me stretching my fanfic muscles#erm why can i only write angst? WHY IS BLUE LOCK A HORROR MANGA? HUH? CHEW ON THAT.#bllk#bluelock#blue lock fanfiction#blue lock fluff#bllk angst#bllk x you#blue lock x reader#rin itoshi#isagi blue lock#god imma have to tag so many people#bachira bllk#blue lock otoya#blue lock zantetsu#bllk shidou#bllk nanase#bluelock headcannon#loki blue lock#noa noel#kaiser michael#kaiser blue lock#ness alexis#ness bluelock#blue lock lavinho#bllk x y/n#reo mikage#nagi x reader#nagi seishiro#chigiri fluff
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Dr. Ratios predictions, theories and ideas I have for his lore BECAUSE SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED AND I AM INSANE ABOUT HIM AAAAAAA
âźď¸INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF LEAKS SO BE WARNEDâźď¸
So, Iâm sure if you like Dr. Ratio even a little bit or have kept up with what leakers are doing, you have heard of a little something.
That little something being our new planet in coming in 3.0 is Ancient Greece inspiredÂ
Oh boy.
And oh it gets better, thanks Sparkle for playing genderbend Ratio during Cosmoddesy becauseÂ
Yup, this is his planet.
Iâm well aware it will be like 7 months before we start getting proper leaks about this place, but for now, letâs do some speculation shall we, because if thereâs anywhere we are gonna get his backstory/lore/a story centered around him, it will be here.
So letâs beginÂ
Whatever the hell I think is gonna happen during 3.0
A) He will serve as a guide for the Astral Express in navigating this planetÂ
I donât think he will immediately go to them to help, or they will immediately seek out him, but rather coincidentally or through the connivence of circumstance he will end up helping lead us around, at least partially until we really get roped into a conflict.
Or, itâs the other way around, where we kinda are left to our own devices a bit and then something happens and either by his own decision or something thatâs forced upon him, Dr. Ratio now has to supervise from now on.
Personally I find the second option way more interesting and I think it has way more potential for angst so Iâm going with that one let Ratio be dragged around by a malicious entity or his own experiences Iâm so here for it.Â
B) Something happens.
Wow, descriptive.Â
Ok, what I really mean is that something bad happens like a prophecy comes true or the express breaks something or a stellaron comes to eat peopleâs grandmas and Ratio is implicated in it.Â
And this is where the fun begins, as the nature of what this something is can completely shift the story in very interesting ways.
Perhaps he was prophesied to doom Amphoreousâs civilization with his presence or something, and was abandoned by his parents on another planet?
Perhaps he has connections to the leaders there who desired for him to be their puppet/tool, so he left to find his own path and now they are trying to force him back.
Perhaps he failed at a test of theirs when he was younger, some universal trait on the planet that he couldnât live up to and was exiled because of it. Now that heâs back, they blame whatever bad thing happens on Ratio.Â
I actually really like these particular theories as Ratio has a lot of themes about creating your own destiny, so seeing him resist one forced upon him would be compelling. Moreover, I feel as though an arc demonstrating how exactly he wanted to become a Genius/where he got all his insecurities and motivations from is not only necessary for his character but would flesh out the way we see the path of Erudition in general, even if I already really like the way they have gone with it so far.Â
C) Resolution/Self acceptanceÂ
I doubt they will permanently kill him, it just doesnât suit his character at all.
However, do I think is he gonna get messed up by whatever that âsomethingâ is? Yes.Â
If the story centers on this remains to be seen, honestly, I doubt it will considering we have the entire cast of the planet and its own lore to meet and learn about, but I do think Ratio will be a major player and I hope how he feels gets some of the plotâs focus as we have quite literally only have 1 full scene of him where we see who he truly is, and itâs all the way back in 1.6 (Ratio-Screwllum conversation my Roman Empire).Â
Like guys I needed this man bleeding out screaming dying crying throwing up clutching his wounds looking up at the screen like a kicked puppy losing all hope in himself and others YESTERDAYÂ
I NEED SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO HIM FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BECAUSE RATIO IS SO HIGH STRUNG THAT ANY AMOUNT OF PRESSURE WILL CAUSE HIM TO SNAP SO PLEASE HOYO LET HIM BREAK!!!
He needs another scene where heâs being sincere, he needs a scene where heâs being vulnerable, Ratioâs marble facade needs to crumble to reveal the man underneath and I need that man to pick himself back up again knowing he can allow himself to be human as well AAAAAAAAAA
His connections to AcheronÂ
If you have seen my other posts I have already talked about this at length, however the brainrot for this particular detail is all consuming so let me just demonstrate:
Dr. Ratio has the same philosophy as Acheron, an emanator of Nihility.
Look.
Essentially, they both believe that only in desperate situations will humans reach their full potential and begin to truly live for themselves. Moreover, they also both try and offer the tools to help people save themselves, Ratio with knowledge and Acheron with destroying the dreamscape, and that even if people can only become their true selves through struggle, it is the guidance and love of other people that will allow them to pick themselves up.Â
Interestingly, pre-2.2 I also believed Ratio was walking the path of Nihility, due to how he engages with knowledge. That very viewpoint spawned from the 1.6 conversation I just showed you, as Ratio demonstrates to the audience that he does not care about knowledge in of itself, but rather the value it can bring to people.
Now, this sets him apart from the Genius Society members, who believe knowledge is inherently valuable and that it is what brings the universe meaning to them. Every person Nous has acknowledged has expressed this belief, which is why they were acknowledged and Ratio isnât.
Before you say it, no, itâs not that he isnât smart enough, quite the opposite actually.
Screwllum himself acknowledges his genius and time and time again are Ratios myriad of accomplishments brought up. In universe plenty of people believe he should have been instated into the society by now as well:
These are just the ones that implicate the society directly, as so many of Ratioâs character stories also mention just how accomplished he is.
Moreover, in 2.3 we are getting a new Sim Uni update made by Ratio himself, centered on humanity because of course it is, therefore heâs even smart enough to do the same things the GS members do, even collaborating with Screwllum to work on their favorite pet project.
So, what does this have to do with his lack of acknowledgment, and the path of Nihility?
I have established Ratio is smart enough and that he doesnât view knowledge in the same way the other memberâs do. Therefore, this difference in mindset is why Nous has never acknowledged him, because as much as Ratio thinks he is walking the path of Erudition, his personal philosophy and behaviors have never aligned with that, even if he thinks they do.
I mean, the man says it himself, even if he doesnât realize the implications of it:
âThe Path of Erudition has neither reason nor logic. While geniuses wander among the stars, the ordinary canât even trace their footsteps.â
That is the path the Genius Society members walk, the path Ratio is criticizing in this sentence, the path he refuses to travel along himself, because what defines Ratio is that he will never leave the ordinary behind to stumble alone.
That is the path of Erudition.
And Veritas Ratio does not follow it.Â
So what does he believe in?
Finding your own path. Forging your own future, in the face of a meaningless universe, that is the only thing we should do, the only thing we CAN do.Â
âeven a life marked by failure is a life worth livingâ
Thatâs what Ratio believes.
It doesnât matter if the masses cannot escape their mediocrity, if they will never be geniuses, if their efforts will go unacknowledged, because the universe doesnât care, therefore they shouldnât either. There is no grand test, no final destination, no perfect goal people must attain.
Destiny is uncertain, and peopleâs fates are theirs to choose.Â
Dr. Ratio believes people can still improve themselves, and that it doesnât matter if people cannot reach the ceiling of knowledge, as they should still push themselves off the floor and stand up.Â
He doesnât think anything confines people from bettering themselves, and that itâs pointless to deliberate over whether one can achieve perfection or not, they should strive to improve themselves regardless and live their best lives because why not? Sure thereâs nothing saying they can, but thereâs also nothing saying they canât, and in the face of a meaningless universe, devoid of purpose, one must create their own, and he dedicates his life to aiding others in realizing this.
Ironically, Ratio does not take his own advice. He can recognize the merits of the masses, but he cannot appreciate his own. Ratio is forever walking forward, but he cannot see the path ahead of him, or appreciate the lengths he has gone, the distance he has traveled, and the lives he has improved.Â
Ratio spreads knowledge across the universe, believing that is what Nous desires, what the Erudition means, or rather should be, which is partly why he views himself as mundane, as a failure.Â
Not just because he is as ordinary as any other person, but because Ratio thinks he hasnât succeeded in his goal without Nousâs acknowledgement. I think he believes that he hasnât done enough, that he isnât smart enough, that he will never be good enough, therefore no matter what has happened, Ratio is doomed do be as mundane as everyone else, and his accomplishments will never be worth the gaze of the entity who inspired him to help others in the first place, as thatâs what Ratio believes they would want.
However, helping others is not something Nous cares about, itâs something Dr. Ratio cares about. Even if he doesnât understand or acknowledge it, Ratioâs accomplishments are meaningful, and he has walked his path further than most ever have.Â
However, that path just isnât the path of Erudition, itâs the path of Existence.Â
Initially I believed it to be the Nihility, and in a way Iâm not wrong, considering one must cross underneath the shadow of the Nihility to find the Existence, so in a way he is still approaching them.
However, as always, Acheron clarifies everything.
The Nihility envelops all, therefore it is meaningless. And before our final ending, our predetermined destiny (death), we have so many choices to make, therefore we should make them, as it makes both our life and death develop a completely different meaning.
As I have stated, this is what Ratio believes in, even if he attributes it to the Erudition, rather than the Nihility.
Ratioâs entire goal in life is to help others bring meaning to their lives and guide them in the right direction so they can begin to choose for themselves, using knowledge as his means to do so.
Which is exactly what Acheron does, âon the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls,â isnât just a line she says because it sounds cool, rather, that is her goal as well. An emanator of Nihility, whose goal is to help others find their meaning in the universe.Â
But Acheron doesnât just want that. She is looking for the Existence, and to kill the Nihility (meaningless) forever.
Which is significant, because if Ratio believes the same exact thing she does, and is walking the same path as she is, then like Acheron, he is heading towards the Existence, not the Erudition.
And Nous will never acknowledge him, not because he isnât smart enough, but because he never followed them to begin with.
In fact, we know what Ratio is, or rather, what he might end up becoming.
So far no Doctors of Chaos have succeeded in their goals, but perhaps Dr. Ratio, Dr VERITAS Ratio, will be the one to do so. After all, who else could it be but him?
How fitting that the man named after truth would be the one to find it.
That fuckass owlÂ
Glaux I want to throw you into a blenderÂ
This is Professor Glaux, one of the figures from the Hanunue-Clockie Era of Penacony who did some things like bring the stellaron there, was a scholar of the Intellgenica Guild, became the first dreamweaver, inspired the paper birds, did some shit with the Nightingale Family and presumably died.
I know, horrible explanation, especially considering I havenât even done the quest this guy is from, but hopefully thatâs all the information you need for now so I can introduce you to this theory (which I did not create, sadly I donât remember who did but it was someone on twitter somewhere so shoutout to them)
That being⌠Dr. Ratio is Glaux
I hate it Iâm sorry. But I will attempt to explain where itâs coming from.
A) Glaux has very similar references to Ratio, aka they are both associated with Greek culture, wisdom and owlsÂ
Glaux is the Greek word for owl and they are heavily associated with Athena, the god of wisdom.
Now Ratio has extremely obvious owl, Greek and wisdom association if you have looked at him for any longer than 2 seconds so Iâm not gonna bother to demonstrate it, they have similar references, moving on.
B) The Intelligencia Guild + their titlesÂ
They are from the same faction, and both are referred to as Professors (ratio gets called that more in the CN version I think), and at least Ratio dedicates his time to spreading knowledge, which I think is something Glaux shared. Â
C) This occurrence in Gold and Gears
You know, the one where a student kills themself because Ratio thinks they are an idiot.
Well, itâs complicated because apparently the story told in Gold in Gears takes place a long time ago??Â
How long I donât know as my brain melted in my skull when trying to piece it together, so please do correct me if Iâm wrong, Iâll try to make sense of it later.
Moreover, this is also complicated by the fact that this particular occurrence was used by Herta to teach the trailblazer some mechanics of the sim uni, which makes me thing itâs not a part of the lore/timeline in it in general, and just something funny she added in anyways. Continually, there are also occurrences from characters like Argenti and of the Genius Society members themselves, so I donât think every event is set in the distant past.
However, I think this idea comes from the other person in that occurrence, Dr. No5, but he also kills himself in it, and I canât find anymore information on it, so I doubt it. (also apparently in the Chinese version the Ratio they refer to isnât in the way they refer to Dr. Ratio/the one we know so idk)
Either way, what this means is that if this occurrence did take place a while ago, then Ratio must be super fucking old and he must have been part of the Intellegencia Guild during that time, like a certain owl aka Glaux, who was part of it.
D) Ratioâs weird origins
By weird origins I mean we know jack shit about his past (although we finally know the planet heâs from!) and for all we know the man could have spawned in one day, with some other theories even coming to that conclusion, like the infamous worm theory.
Essentially, if you put this all together, Ratio was once an owl-humanoid named Glaux who was from the Amphoreous, and then became part of the Intelligencia Guild a while back, which is when that occurrence happened. He then went to Penacony, did some stuff, faked his death and like came back as Dr. Ratio on that planet again, which is why we donât know anything about his origins.
Can you tell why I hate this theory as a concept.
I find it to be dumb, nonsensical, a waste of potential and just straight up random as hell. However it is also objectively valid and could have happened within the plot of the game which is why I hate it so much because please hoyoverse do not go in this direction I will skin you.
However, I do not think Ratio has nothing to do with Glaux.
Rather,
A) The stuff Glaux did on Penacony is meant to parallel how Ratio acted there, as both served as a guiding figure for people on their respective timelinesÂ
B) Ratio is the same species as Glaux/ they are from the same planet (Amphoreous).
Now this I fuck with heavily. Yes, Glaux is way more owl looking than Ratio is, however more human versions of his species could exist, and Ratio could just have the ability to like shift forms or something.
He also looks extremely similar to the owls on Ratios design, which I now deem it appropriate to show to you the metric fuck ton of owls in Ratios design.
(thereâs a few more btw I just couldnât fit them due to the image limit LMAOO)
Why do you have so many, and why is it the same fucking owl, same culture, same goddess referenced, same symbolism????Â
Like even if I hate the 1 : 1 Glaux-Ratio theory, they are clearly connected, and this is no accident on behalf of the developers.Â
Therefore, I would keep an eye out for Glaux mentions in the future, especially on the planet coming in 3.0, as I 100% believe that they are from the same planet. Thereâs no way they canât be connected in some manner, and if I am right about this I will be annoying about it for the rest of time.Â
I canât believe owl Ratio might actually be a reality.Â
So uh, letâs put this all together.
We go to Ratioâs planet in 3.0, problems happen and we learn both his past and his connections to that owl species Glaux is from which likely causes even more problems. Bbg probably gets his ass handed to him in 3.0 and 3.1 and gets to make up for it in 3.2, ending the arc off more fulfilled as a person, and perhaps making some realizations about himself including that he isnât actually following the path of Erudition. Then we skip all the way to endgame when the trailblazers are fighting Nanook and him and Acheron come in with the steel chair hopped up on Existence juice to give the trailblazer enough of a will to live as to not succumb to the Nihility because oh my god how can you defeat the embodiment of Destruction. We somehow win and Dr. Ratio gets married to Aventurine and they ride off into the sunset roll credits we all cheered.Â
So, yeah.
If Iâm even a little bit right about this I will be the most insufferable person on this planet. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this, and even if these theories donât end up being true I do still think the speculation gives a lot of insight into his character.
#honkai star rail#hsr#dr ratio#veritas ratio#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio hsr#hsr theory#hsr leaks#i am insane about this#I will be insane about it#You donât understand.#GIVE IT TO ME HOYOVERSE GIVE IT TO MEEEEEE EEE#God I canât wait for 3.0 I need Ratio to get his ass kicked PLEASEEE#HE NEEDS TO SNAP! HE NEEDS TO SNAP!#Aventurine pls save your husband from my delusions thanks#Acheron#Acheron hsr#she always shows up#I swear
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Hellohello!
May I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader? I think that'll give some interesting dynamic
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synopsis - When you and your friends are extended an invite from The Family to attend the Charmony Festival, you were looking forward to the opportunity of a get-away! (Despite the suspicion that seemed to surround the invite letter.) That is until a certain IPC Executive approaches the trouble that your group has encountered at the reception desk.
pairings - aventurine x nameless! reader
content - this is kind of an enemies-to-lovers scenario (?) but we haven't reached the lovers part yet folks, front desk drama, character shenanigans, i don't really have much to say because it's not really fluff nor angst, let's just say it's a glimpse into a relationship (that would take super duper long to develop into)
warnings - none, besides the occasional swearing
â Ęá´á´á´
ɪɴɢ... â
When Pom Pom had made the announcement that the Astral Express was about to head to its next destination, Penacony, a part of you was thrilled at the opportunity. However, an unpleasant feeling nagged at you. The invitation letter that was sent out by the family had suspicion written all over it. What exactly will happen at this Charmony Festival? Will your friends manage to find relaxation or get dragged down an inescapable rabbit hole? Time will only tellâŚ
Shaking off the feeling of slight dread, you turned back to your luggage and checked that you had everything. You didnât pack a lot, but enough to last your stay and more than enough room for souvenirs. Your train of thought was interrupted by rapid knocking, a familiar bubbly voice muffled by your bedroom door.Â
â_____! Weâll be heading out soon! Donât forget anything important!â March called, sounding a little impatient. You couldnât blame her though, she had been waiting for this trip for a while.Â
âIâm almost done! Iâll meet you guys in the main cabin!â You called back, scanning your luggage.Â
After checking the rest of your stuff, you rolled out your luggage and bid your goodbyes to Dan Heng, meeting March 7th and the trailblazer at the main cabin.
âAre you guys ready?â You asked, smiling at March 7thâs enthusiasm and the Trailblazerâs excitement.Â
âReady as Iâll ever be! Letâs go before Himeko and Welt leave us stranded at the front desk!â March chimed.
March 7th hauled her luggage down the steps of the express, both you and the Trailblazer following suit.Â
-----
Stepping into the Reverie Hotel, the floors which looked to span endlessly left you at a loss for words. It truly was a grand sight, the beautiful decor placed meticulously around the lobby. Near the reception desk were Himeko and Welt, seemingly frustrated and confused about something.Â
The receptionist had an apologetic look. This couldnât be goodâŚ
âUh oh⌠Trailblazer, ____, something isnât right.â March spoke, a concerned look on her features. It seems she has also noticed the scene up ahead.Â
The Trailblazer had waved goodbye to the bell boy named Misha, following you and March 7th to the front desk.Â
âHey, whatâs with the big gathering at the concierge about? Weâve just arrived and thereâs already drama happening?â March sighed, stopping by Himeko.
âIâm sorry, but your name really isnât in the systemâŚâ The receptionist apologized, Himeko crossing her arms in thought.
âMr Yang, whatâs going on here?â You gave Welt a questioning glance while the others were speaking to the receptionist. He sighed, closing his eyes before opening them again.
âThere are 5 rooms reserved for us. However..the issue is that the Trailblazer isnât on that list. I assume itâs because they didnât arrive on the express until later.â Welt explained, looking over to the rest of the group. âMs Alley, if it is possible, can we reassign the last room to the Trailblazer? It would still be the same amount of people.â
As the others were trying to find a solution to this check-in problem, you noticed a blond figure making his way over to the front desk. Observing his clothing, you were able to recognize that he was an IPC executive of the Strategic Investment Department. If you were to guess his reasoning for being here, it would be because of the invite The Family sent out. However, his presence here did not ease the dread that still plagued you.
The man glanced towards you, a smile devoid of emotion remaining on his face as he interrupted the receptionistâs explanation.Â
From there, the group learned that his name was Aventurine, an IPC executive and one of the ten stonehearts, Diamondâs subordinate. With the attitude he was giving the group, you almost wanted to wipe that damn look on his face. The worst part was that he knew how frustrating he was, fueling your irritation further. You were about to make a retort to one of his statements before Himeko gave you a knowing glance. Crossing your arms with your brow twitching in annoyance, you spared Aventurine a glare.Â
In return, that bastard gave you a smug smirk before returning to his conversation with Himeko.
The Trailblazer seemed to notice your irritation and gave you an empathetic pat on your shoulder, sharing the same frustrations.Â
This âAventurineâ was an enigma to you, his intentions and actions being hard to discern with arrows being pointed to varying conclusions. Being through a multitude of trailblazing missions, his character immediately spelled trouble for you and your friends. Yet finding just what trouble he will cause for your group will have to wait. For now, he was busy stirring trouble at the front desk with onlookers whispering and starting to gossip.
â-- Iâll be counting on all my âTrailblazerâ friends here. Looking forward to a delightful time with you all.â Aventurineâs voice interrupted your observation. Hearing the word âfriendsâ being uttered by Aventurine made you look at Himeko with a deadpan expression. It seems that you will be seeing each other around often if you were now considered his friends. Hopefully, heâd be much more interested in your Trailblazer friend..sorry Trailblazer.
Surprisingly, the head of the Oak Family, Sunday, and the universally renowned singer who was his younger sister, Robin, approached your group at the front desk. After Sunday spoke with the receptionist, Aventurine dismissed himself and walked with Sunday to the side, conversing about whatever it was Aventurine had business with. Before he left, he gave you a side glance and a smile.Â
Robinâs voice snapped you out of your wary gaze, calling your group over to one of the lounges to have a seat.Â
-----Â
It had taken a while, but before you knew it you were finally checked in and had arrived at the VIP area. Extending your arms over your head, you hummed in satisfaction at the cracking of joints.Â
âGlad that thatâs over. I'm hoping nothing troublesome will await us when we arrive at our rooms.â You sighed, walking towards the bar that stood in the center of the room.Â
People were scattered around the area, lost in their own conversation as you surveyed the area.Â
The interior design had a nostalgic and dreamy aesthetic surrounding it, reminding you of vintage designs and items from your home planet. The atmosphere surrounding Penacony felt light, the concept and history of the place fueling your interest. You couldnât wait for what encounters youâd face in the dreamscape.Â
â_____! Weâre going to put our stuff away in our rooms. Do you want to come with?â March 7th pulled you from your thoughts.Â
Giving her a smile, you shook your head.Â
âYou guys can go without me. Iâm going to look around for a bit.â âOk! Trailblazer, letâs go!â
Watching March 7th and the Trailblazer race up the stairs with their belongings, you turned your attention toward the man who was playing the piano. You walked over and stood amongst the small crowd, watching his performance. Although you didnât recognize the song that he was playing, it soothed your feelings and the stress from earlier seemed to almost fade away.Â
Key word, almost.
After everyone had left for their separate rooms, you were the last to follow as you chatted with some of the people who worked there. You bid your goodbyes to the Intellitron nurse who was seated near the rooms and turned the corner into the hallway. However, you didnât expect to see Aventurine walking out of the Trailblazerâs room. In an instant, you felt your stress come back in the form of a headache, just what was he doing in their room?Â
âAh, _____, is it? I apologize for any perceived slight that you may have felt during our first encounter.â Aventurine hummed, stopping in his tracks when he noticed you. âI look forward to any future encounters, friend.âÂ
Your eyes narrowed.
âWhat were you doing in the Trailblazerâs room, Aventurine?â You questioned, arms crossing over your chest.Â
âNo need for suspicion, friend. I was simply conversing with the Trailblazer about the room arrangements and offered my apologies.â He explained, watching you carefully analyze him.Â
âAlso, I appreciate you finding my appearance attractive enough to stare at during our last encounter, but I have to ask if that is appropriate of that of a Nameless?â
Your cheeks flared up in both embarrassment and anger, fingernails leaving indents on your palms when you uncrossed your arms. âExcuse me? I was not admiring your appearance, itâs best to not come to such conclusions after a first meeting, Aventurine.â You huffed.
âIs that so? Then the same could be said for you, friend. Although I havenât made the best first impression, it wouldnât be wise to assume that that makes up my whole character, correct?â Aventurine countered, his smile widening at your increasing irritation.
âI suppose so, my apologies.â You begrudgingly apologized, your balled fists fell lax.Â
âMmmm, Iâm glad you agree. Now that thatâs resolved, Iâd like to discuss something with you.â Aventurine strolled closer to you, a sly smile crossing his features. This couldnât be good.Â
âApologies, Aventurine, but it seems thatââ âFriend, I would like to make you an offer that would benefit the both of us.âÂ
The distance between the both of you was small, about a foot away from each other. Your browÂ
twitched at the closeness, nervousness clawing at your stomach. Yet, you stood your ground.
Before he could speak another word, a woman with purple hair interrupted the both of you.Â
âExcuse me, do any of you know where this area is?â She inquired, giving Aventurine a glance and then looking at you.Â
âIâm sorry, miss. I think there is a Family Member in the lounge who may know where your room is. Would you like me to escort you to them?â You tried taking the opportunity to get away from Aventurine and whatever he was scheming.Â
â...No, thatâs okay. Thank you for your help.â The woman left, continuing to pass you guys.Â
â...Youâll have to excuse me, but I am feeling awfully tired after my travels.â Aventurine was about to speak up but you had already passed him, walking to your room. âI hope your stay in Penacony is a pleasant one, Aventurine.âÂ
He stared at your retreating form, turning a corner into another hallway. Aventurine sighed in disappointment, having looked forward to talking with you. Perhaps, heâll have to wait until he sees you again to have a proper conversation.Â
âI look forward to when we meet again, _____.â
â á´á´á´á´Ęá´á´á´! â
note - hi everyone! i just want to say that it'll probably be a bit until i post something but i have received some of your requests! this week seems fairly busy so i'm sorry for any slow responses. i hope to get something out by tomorrow or thursday. thank you all for your understanding and support! (´âĄ`)
#writingâ #hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr aventurine#enemies to lovers (?)#this took a while to write but i hope you guys like it#bickering
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