#but oh my god your series is known for its story and THIS is what you give us

[commander-goo]

posting this now because I think the high has worn off. opinions in the tags

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter seven: In which March 7th joins the crew and asks why you have special privileges

Warnings: possibly ooc

You never expected to stumble upon the frozen chunk of ice that contained a familiar someone that you knew would become March 7th. She laid there, under the layers of unforgiving ice, naked and asleep.

For a brief moment, you wondered if you could just leave the ice to melt on its own, but shrugged the last minute and decided against it.

It was easy to just clip the ice out of existence and get the girl to safety, draping her in a comfortable quilt to protect her dignity and to keep her warm— you noticed she felt surprisingly soft for a girl frozen for god knows how long.

No one questioned you when you brought her in to the express and took her to your room, having known you long enough to trust you.

“She’s stabilizing.” Himeko told you as she finished examining her. “She’ll probably wake up in a few hours more or less.”

“That’s good.” You said as you observed the girl’s sleeping body, now dressed in some loose, soft colored nightgown that covered her entire figure.

“Where did you find her?” Himeko asked.

“Inside a block of ice.” You replied. “Eternal ice, specifically. Interesting, right?”

“Indeed it is…” She trailed off. “Any estimate of how long she’s been trapped in there?” She asked as she wasn’t there to observe the ice to know a timeline— it’s a miracle in itself that this girl was still alive after such a dangerous situation. She wasn’t a corpse, she didn’t bloat, didn’t bruise, and no signs of frostbite at all.

“Probably a long while. I haven’t seen eternal ice for a good few decades since I was born.” You answered, deliberately leaving out the detail that it was on the Aeon Fuli that you’ve seen traces of it last. It wasn’t your place to divulge that, and you too didn’t know the full story.

“Where’s Welt?” You inquired, changing the topic.

“He’s currently making some arrangements with Herta for our next stop.” Himeko replied. “Oh.. that reminds me,” she paused, as if uncertain. “I received a message from the IPC in regards to you— well, not quite. It’s your wanted poster.”

“Took them eight years to air out my dirty laundry outside two galaxies?” You frowned. “Lame.”

“Since when did you find out about this?” She looked at you with an incredulous look, remembering that your bounty was exactly a whopping 69 million credits. (Nice)

“I have no idea why they’re airing it this late here but I found out about it during my trip in a galaxy with a friend— I got famous there for killing IPC personnel using chairs.” You confessed with a casual shrug, you don’t miss the way she seemed taken aback, as if that was beneath you. Could she do anything about it?

No, not really. Because aside from you being basically this place’s patron deity since you vored the original one on accident, Himeko was just that kind of person. The kind who would just… get it.

“Also, it wasn’t unwarranted.” You sighed, throwing your hands up like that white, scuffled combination of a cat and a monkey to emphasize your exasperation. “They attacked me first. Walked around some old bar like they owned the place and tried to shoot me while I was trying to cheer on my friend.”

Himeko nodded. “I see.” She had enough common sense to figure out that people were basically asking for it— she’s however thankful that you’re at least not as destructive as she initially thought you would be.

She’s of course, wrong. But she doesn’t know that yet.

Emphasis on yet, because killing corporate employees with a chair wasn’t exactly the worst thing you did using a human projection. Does she have to know about what you did to Gopher Wood a few years ago while pretending you were just some bellboy in Penacony? No she doesn’t.

She didn’t need to know about the town you accidentally turned into Yharnam 2.0 around six years ago in some distant galaxy either. Granted, what transpired there wasn’t exactly your fault, but merely a result of people trying to foolishly communicate with your Aeon form without a transmission.

And thus, they were free of their ignorance. The exchange was that all of them went insane from gaining the “insight” needed to see you, observe you.

Himeko doesn’t need to know any of those things, or the sense of regret you felt by not being able to help them in the way they needed.

In the midst of your surprisingly quiet conversation, the unconscious girl woke up, and your face is the first thing she sees.

“Hello.” You smiled, gently taking her hand with your own. “Finally awake huh? You’ve been asleep awhile.” You said.

“H-hi.” Her response is weak, groggy. Himeko is quick to help her drink water for her parched throat, in which the girl accepts with little complaint. She almost coughs and you patted her back gently to ease her, telling her to slow down as she doesn’t let go of your hand along the way.

“Himeko, can you please get Pompom? She needs some soup.” It felt strange for you to be ordering her around with you easily forgetting you are technically the highest person in the train.

“I’ll get her something easy on the stomach, don’t worry.” Himeko merely smiled at you, complying with what you told her as you stayed with the girl.

“So, how’d you get in that ice?” You asked after a few moments, of course you already knew the answer, but you still let it out anyway.

“I… don’t know.” She told you. “Who are you?” Himeko said she’s stable— well, physically. You’re not sure how she is mentally.

“A stranger for now.” You smiled. “You should rest, you’re not exactly ready to get up just yet.” She nodded wordlessly at your words, and laid back down.

It doesn’t take her long to sleep.

“Welcome aboard, March 7th.”

——————

“Himeko, why does [Name] get to get out without contacting us for weeks but me and Dan Heng have to inform you of our whereabouts?”

Himeko paused with calibrating the navigation system as March put on the question.

“Well… despite how they look, they’re one of the senior members of the crew.” She began. “Don’t worry, they know their way back no matter where they are and where we will go.”

It’s a vague answer and March can tell, though, she doesn’t pry any further. You’ve been around in the express for longer than her or Dan Heng, so she chalked it up to you being the more experienced lot.

“Where are they right now though?” She pondered, and Himeko chuckled.

“Seems that someone is worried.” There is mirth in the navigator’s voice, March pouted in response.

“They’re all alone, of course I’m a little worried.” She said.

“I see. Not to worry, they’re fine, they’re just on another planet right now visiting a place.”

“Sigonia… IV?” Himeko pressed on the panel to show the state of the planet, and March almost blanched. “Wow, it’s…. dry… in there.”

“It’s a desert planet. [Name] was there before, they’re just finishing up in establishing a space anchor so we can head there whenever we’d like.” Himeko explained. “It was added recently to our navigation system around 12 or 13 years ago, and it’s inhabited mainly by two clans. You can ask Mr.Yang or Dan Heng if you’d like to know more about the planet. [Name]’s taken a liking to it.”

“Okay… what are other places that [Name] likes?” She’s curious now, despite having travelled with them for over four months, there wasn’t much that she knew about the mysterious astral express member at all.

“There is another place… they attended the university of Veritas Prime for a while before they quit because they got bored.” Himeko lightly laughed, recalling the memory of you going back to the train after spending a good portion of a year in the university, with you rather childishly stating you’re dropping out because you hated writing a thesis.

“Mr. Yang told me about that place once.. apparently it’s super prestigious.. and [Name] just quit because they got… bored?” Frankly, March was a little.. in disbelief.

While she couldn’t remember her past, she had enough common sense to know that academies like that simply aren’t places where you could just.. dip without a single regard.

But unfortunately, you were… well, you.

“That’s not.. really all there is to the story, even I’m not sure what actually happened, but it’s better for us not to question [Name]’s choices.” Himeko sighed, shaking her head.

“Okay…. Are there any other places that they like aside from a school and a desert planet?”

“I’m… not sure.” Now even Himeko was wondering what you actually liked aside from the things they already know. “I think they mentioned a tavern at one point. Though it’s not exactly one for a vacation spot.”

“What do you mean?” March tilted her head, curious.

“Let’s just say that it’s the kind where bounty hunters often linger around, at least that’s what they told me.” Himeko said without missing a beat, March shivered. “It’s alright, they said most of the people there are well acquainted with them.” She laughed lightly.

“That’s not exactly helping.” March sweatdropped.

“Oh! Looks like they’re done properly establishing the anchor.” Himeko chimed, Sigonia IV finally having a proper route for the express members to properly jump into.

March frowned, her questions haven’t yet been answered. What she got were vague, not pointing to anything personal about you.

Perhaps another day then. Or maybe when she’s braver, she’d ask you herself.

————————-

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, part VIII (HERE), Part IX…..

Interlude: one, two…..

Special chapter: link

That’s a wrap for the long awaited chapter 7– I know we didn’t have much of the reader acting here, but I also want to explore the POV of other people and how they perceive you because I think it’s important—

I promise you’ll see the reader in action in the chapter that follows this :))

[minarisplaything]

Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé

pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.

Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.

That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.

"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.

You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.

Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.

You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.

Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.

It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.

"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.

"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.

"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.

"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.

For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.

"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."

"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"

Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."

There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.

"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"

Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.

"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.

"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.

If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.

Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous.  To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.

You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.

"I've been looking for you all night!"

You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.

"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."

"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."

"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.

You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.

"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.

"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.

"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.

Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.

“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.

"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.

"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures. 

As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.

"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.

"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.

"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.

You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.

When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.

"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.

You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"

"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.

"We?"

Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”

She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."

Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.

 "Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."

"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.

"Later. We don't have a lot of time."

Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.

"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.

"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.

"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.

"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.

"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.

You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.

"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.

"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."

"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.

"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.

"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.

For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.

Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.

"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.

You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.

"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.

A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.

"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.

"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"

You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.

"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.

One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance. 

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

 You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

“There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air. 

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse. 

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman. 

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[bloodheartz]

gimmw your gfalls hcs NOEWWW

oh god! I have soooo many but i'll put some basic ones down for the pines family rn and probably add on to this later ^_^

Dipper

◇ First of all this boy is absolutely autistic. My little autistic ass acted so much like him as a kid, I mean, what autistic 12 year old wouldn't base their entire summer around a weird book full of monsters they found?

◇ I think he's a trans dude and aro/ace, and that his crush on Wendy was more comphet than anything. I'm not really a fan of any ship involving him but I think platonic dipcifica could be cute.

◇ Cryptozoology/The Paranormal is absolutely his main special interest, but he also has an sp/in in computers/comp sci (but he's honestly not great at computer stuff).

Mabel

◇ AuDHD Queen! I think her main special interest is absolutely arts / crafts, I mean look at all the silly things she makes throughout the series as well as her dedication to handmaking dozens of puppets/props/etc as well as writing and entire play to impress her crush of the week in Sock Opera. ◇ I think sexuality wise she's not straight but prefers to be unlabelled. I also like to think she's the type to collect xenogenders / neopronouns like pokemon cards. ( she totally uses a bunch of cat-based pronouns) ◇ Shortly after the series I think she'd get a little less Boys-Crazy and focus more exploring who she is as a person / her self expression. Absolutely is gonna have a mall goth/emo/scene phase (she's smushing all three of those together into one thing for herself).

(I also think Mabel and Dipper were born identical twins)

Grunkle Stan

◇ Also AuDHD, not quite sure what his big main special interest would be but he's absolutely hyperfixated on Ducktective. Also going off the story in Lost Legends I think he'd absolutely be getting into making comics / drawing in general (even if hes not great at it). Post series I think he'd spend a lot of his free time out at sea drawing in the boat's cabin. Mostly making comics of silly re-tellings of he and Ford's adventures out at Sea (he absolutely shows Dipper and Mabel these if he and Ford video calls them when they're on land) ◇ I'm a transfem Stanley truther. He doesn't really realize/come to terms with it until post-series. I think she'd just grow out her hair and throw it in a pony-tail + use she/he pronouns to transition. She'd still use the name Stanley and be fine with both masc/fem terms (ie fine be called a man or a woman). Also he's bisexual (but has known this since he was like a teen, even if he didn't have the words to label it.) ◇ I think his Popsicle addiction from the unaired pilot is real and canon. Old autistic men love popsicles just look at my dad and grandfather.

Ford

◇ oh boy its projection time (i am a stanford pines fictive) 😈😈😈

◇ Transmasc, somewhere under the nonbinary umbrella but very guy adjacent. Mainly uses he/him pronouns but I think he'd use "it" and "they" aswell. Gay and Arospec as well. ◇ Autism + NPD + Schizophrenia wombo combo. He's sooooo NPD coded its INSANE, I am going to write an essay about it in the future. Goes without saying that his special interests are the paranormal and various sciences, but I think he has a hardcore love for the arts as well. ◇ Going off both the autism and arospec HC- I think he's the type to convince himself he has a crush very easily, when in reality he just has a strong admiration / platonic love for those in question, and had strong platonic feelings for McGucket back in college that he confused for romantic ones (projecting 100000000%) (i think the Stan twins were fraternal twins)

[leclercinvegas]

FEARLESS - instagram au

who: mick schumacher x vettle!reader

author's note: tbh he is the whole reason i'm starting this series. tbh idk what era mick is in for this imagine, but just go with it. also some of my fav other people are in this cause i thought it would have been cute. pretend the last pic is mick instead of pierre

summary: everyone can see the spark between the childhood best friends.

warnings: none

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, kevinmagnussen, and 273,466 others

mickschumacher: being home means angie playtime

view all 859 comments...

user1: awww his dog is so cute!

user2: i want to steal her

ynvettle: please tell angie i miss her so much.

mickschumacher: you were here literally 15 minutes ago

ynvettle: your point? im coming over again.

ynvettle posted!

liked by sebastianvettle, mickschumacher, and 12,348 others

ynvettle: cause she doesn't get your humor like i do

view all 237 comments...

landonorris: you got a dog, any reason why?

user3: shes literally so gorgeous

yourbestfriend: you're my dorothea

mickschumacher: where are my photo credits for 3 of these pictures.

ynvettle: up my butt

mickschumacher: very mature yn

ynvettle: why thank you mr schumacher

jackhughes: come back to the lake house

ynvettle: ill be there in 2 weeks dont worry and im bringing a friend if thats okay

jackhughes: most definitely, the more the merrier

user4: jack and mick meetup? are my worlds colliding?

trevorzegras: you better visit soon

ynvettle: well if you're at the lake house ill see you then you silly goose

jamie.drysdale: i miss you y/n

ynvettle: i miss you more jamjam

user5: since when has y/n known all these hockey players?

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, jackhughes, trevorzegras and 341,436 others

mickschumacher: made some new friends and new memories too

view all 1253 comments...

jackhughes: please come back next summer

mickschumacher: @ynvettle look i made a good impression! i would love to come back!

ynvettle: i figured you would make a good impression. i dont know why you were so worried

user7: oh my god. lake house. mick and y/n. with y/n's friends. things are happening. idk what things are but they're happening

ynvettle: i had the time of my life with you. im so glad you got to meet everyone :)

user8: please tell me thats y/n in the firework picture. please.

sebastianvettle: staying safe i hope

mercedesamgf1: hope you're having fun mick!

trevorzegras: come back mick mouse please.

yourbestfriend: hm interesting choice of pictures mick

ynvettle added to their story!

ynvettle: wild hockey boys at candian gp

ynvettle posted!

liked by mickschumacher, jackhughes, and 23,698 others

ynvettle: come feel this magic i've been feeling since i met you, can't help it if there's no one else <3

comments are restricted

mickschumacher: its been years in the making

jackhughes: oh my god finally.

sebastainvettle: i knew this was going to happen at some point. @mickschumacher treat her well.

trevorzegras: please tell me mick mouse asked you and you didnt ask him

ynvettle: thats a secret that ill never tell

jamie.drysdale: i miss you again

ynvettle: ill come back soon or you could always come here jamjam

yourbestfriend: your friends to lovers dream has come true

mickschumacher: what??

ynvettle: why did you have to say that.

[eliashirsch]

God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (3/3)

Part three of my fanfic recommendation! This one's for the best fics!

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!

Best of the Best Fics

Fics that shine bright as the stars. Make sure to check the author’s other works too!

ICEMAV

Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa @fabula-unica

Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?

This and COMPACFLT’s work directly inspired one of my works:) The writing quality is absolutely amazing. My favorite fics are those that have Ice returning to Top Gun and joining Mav as an instructor and this one just takes the whole motherfucking crown.

Indian Ocean. Present Day. by Jay Tryfanstone (tryfanstone)

Isolated on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean, cut off from any source of information about the global political and environmental disaster which has engulfed the planet, Maverick and Goose struggle to make sense of an increasingly claustrophobic command structure and failing resources on board. When a refugee helicopter is spotted approaching the carrier, its pilot could be the catalyst for an explosive re-evaluation....

This fic man. This fic. It made me fall in love with post-apocalyptic fics. The writing style, the plot, Ice and Mav and Goose. Goose, man… Oh my god. If you read this fic you know why I’m still thinking about these boys’ fates. 

Rhinestone Cowboy by omnidirectional

That’s Doctor Iceman to you! Maverick bangs himself up and gets rescued by someone he didn’t expect. A Missing Scene featuring contrived situations, questionable life choices, gratuitous product placement, and shirtlessness. You know, everything you love about canon.

And it is absolutely everything I love about canon! I always love missing scenes or canon divergent. Not to say that I don’t enjoy AUs, but I love vibes like this the most where the story works alongside canon and elevates it to a whole other level. Mav and Ice and Slider feels correct.

Sleepless Nights by demiclar @demiclar / @slidersimp

Five times Maverick wakes himself up with nightmares and one time he's woken by someone else.

Fics about Mav’s grief over Goose’s death will always wreck me. This one in particular shows itself as a physical manifestation. I love love love all the guys stepping up and taking care of Mav, never once judging his pain. I’m a sucker for portrayals of the ugly side of grief.

Mal de Mer by saurora_borealis

"I thought you said you didn't get seasick, you little liar," Slider snaps. Maverick doesn't answer, head bowed, but Ice can see him shaking from here. Of all the times for Maverick to be sick, did it have to be on a night that Ice is ill too? Or: the carrier experiences some ocean turbulence. Even the most seasoned aviators fall prey to it.

This one has sort of the same vibe as the fic above. I never get tired of seeing the flyboys take care of each other<3

be my soulmate (and i'll be yours) by ChexMix

Of course Maverick dreams about finding his soulmate. Who doesn't? But he'd never imagined the possibility that it could be the Iceman. So when he catches sight of Ice's soulmark, it suddenly becomes all he can think about.

Classic Icemav soulmate AU. This is like exactly my type of angst and happy ending. Sometimes the things you’re familiar with are still the best:)

To Build a Home by LadyLanera @k9effect

Eighteen years before Top Gun Maverick, there was a home being built from ashes and ruin. When the dust finally settled and dusk fell, the house of cards collapsed, shattering three lives forever. Is it possible to rebuild, reclaiming the past in the future...when they're all hurtling towards their worst nightmare?

Goddddd. I love Mav’s character flaw in this. I love Ice’s maturity born from grief and sickness. I love Bradley’s anger and abandonment issues. I love that these three have hurt each other more than anyone ever could, but their love is still starkly present. My thoughts when I was reading this was that LadyLanera wrote their flaws so beautifully, making them human, and by doing so I understood their motivations and their actions. Amazing characterization. 

all is fair (in love and war) by dulcetines (evecstasy)

oh, ice, maverick bisa merasakan hati kecilnya meringis, ice, sori banget— hollywood menyelak lagi, kali ini dengan suara impersonasi terbaiknya: “teruntuk kuncen TOPGUN, yang mana di sana kuyakin matahari belum juga terbit sebersamaan dengan ditulisnya surat ini. aku ingin saat ini juga kau bersyukur tidak mesti mendengarkan slider ngorok di sampingmu. tuhan jesus. pria ini sudah kuanggap saudara sendiri, tapi terkadang ada saja hal-hal yang dilakukannya yang membuatku ingin menggulingkannya ke laut. kau apa kabar di sana? sudah berapa pilot yang kauhabisi egonya? apapun itu. jangan mati kebosanan dulu. aku bisa bilang begini karena surat-suratmu selalu mengancam demikian. ingat kau masih hutang makan malam denganku. dan sepuluh dolar. sampaikan salamku ke bayi itik. bilang aku kangen padanya. dan,” hollywood memalsukan dehem, sambil ia melanjutkan, “padamu juga. setiap detikku. ice.” begitulah.

Hehehehehe. Now this is more for me LMAO because as you can see, it’s written in Indonesian. Finding this fic in my mother language is like finding GOLD. Again, I love love love Icemav in their Top Gun era. This is for all of you Indonesian Top Gun enthusiast *blows a kiss* 

a higher fidelity by basedchamp

“C’mon.” Tori nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon. He’s cute. You can admit that one thing but you can’t admit this?” Gritting his teeth, Ice thinks very carefully about his next words. “He’s…” he trails off. “Some would say that…Mitchell is not. Unpleasant. To look at.” (Alternatively: the one where Ice and Mav learn to park bad, eat good, and love even better.)

Ice’s family, man… It’s refreshing to see them so supportive and loving. I’m guilty of making Ice’s backstory so tragic>:) But this one is heartwarming! I love the style and flow of the writing. It’s something that I want to achieve in my own writing as well, so kudos to basedchamp!

Tunnel Vision by brainjuicey (anzietyfreak) @brainjuicey

Instead of Ice biting the air in the locker room, he antagonises Mav by biting his neck, unknowingly setting off dormant Omega genes and sending him into heat. Everyone involved is forced to remain secure on base until they’ve investigated. AKA. Five Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega in heat, walk into an Air Base prison. Ramifications ensue. Alternative title, "Locked in Sex Jail With The Boys"

This scratched that specific part in my brain, man. ABO with the original cast of Top Gun? Sign me up, baby. Steamy and perfect. 

The Five People You Can't Escape in Heaven by V_Evergreen

Maverick dies, but it doesn't end there. Alternately: [“Hey, kiddo, are you with me?” Maverick opened his eyes and found that he could see. He blinked in the sudden light as his surroundings came into focus. Quite literally came into focus, as though everything around him was resolving into itself as he looked, deciding to form a lawn, flowerbeds, the tree trunk that he had been leant against. The sun was blinding overhead, high noon. In the distance, hazy and indistinct, he could make out a house. It looked vague, like a half formed memory but it was familiar. Just like the man crouched in front of him. “Dad?” He croaked.]

I was reading the original book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven) and came across this fic. Which in turn made me want to write my own rendition from the same idea.  That last chapter, man. It’s unreal how creative it is. A punch to the gut for sure.

(Here’s my fic if you want to read about it :) >> Estrellita)

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother by V_Evergreen

Five meetings between Thomas Kazansky and Ethan Hunt. Alternately: [Ethan heard the door click shut behind him and turned to ask after the papers when he was abruptly spun by a hand on his shoulder and pushed against the door. His first and immediate thought was that he was certainly being attacked. Kazansky had him pressed against the door, chest to chest, a hand around his wrist and then- oh. Oh no. He wasn’t being attacked at all, it was infinitely worse. He was being very thoroughly kissed. He pushed back against Kazansky’s chest and tried to think of something eloquent to say. “Um?”]

Another banger by V_Evergreen. Ice not knowing Mav has a twin and mistakenly kissing him is so funny. And the end is heartwarming as well. Love love love it.

Allies by Shearmouth

After getting shot down over a war-torn Iraq, Maverick makes some unlikely friends. They have something– a big something– in common. But all Mav really wants is Ice. Too bad he's half a world away, and even Mav can't run that on a shattered leg. Not with the infected chest wounds thrown in, at least.

Oh my goddddd. I keep being at a loss for words when describing these fics. It won’t do anyone good if all I wrote was goddd, oh mannn, it’s so goodddd. But it’s the truth. This one hits home so much. The risk and homophobia present when you’re in a place that punishes queer people for existing and being in love, how a single mistake will cost you your future. And it’s so heartwarming to see that even then, you’re not alone. Mav being helped to reunite with Ice and breaking down that since their relationship was private, Ice had to grief Mav alone. Man, oh man. 

There is a pain—so utter by CurSirrr

Pete Mitchell was fine. Completely fine. He didn’t feel dizzy with denial, or an utter trainwreck of hopelessness. He hadn’t shed a single tear or cried himself to sleep for the past week. His guts were twisting and turning, squeezing and cramping. His eyes were swollen and red, and his scalp hurt from his vicious hair tugs as he tried to understand the past week. OR Three times Bradley misses the chance to say goodbye before it is too late.

Just read the summary and prepare for a world of pain:) Ice’s canon death still haunts me. Good thing he’s sleeping away in his big house that he co-owns with Mav, regularly saves his husband’s ass, have barbeque Sunday with Bradley and Jake and the dagger squad, happy and healthy:))

keeping his cards close to his chest by Serie11 @oathkeeperoxas

It's not that Lucy wishes that her boss would be more open with her. It's that she quite literally knows nothing about the man, despite Admiral Kazansky being her CO for half a decade. Or: 5 times Ice successfully hid something from his staff, and 1 time Ice revealed his biggest secret

Love seeing Icemav seen through other people’s perspective. It adds so much to the universe. Ice and Mav being their usual old married couple while everyone around them suffers. Excellent.

'til I meet you there by adiduck (book_people) @adiduck

Maverick wakes up in the snow, helmet on, entire body aching intensely and parachute still attached. It takes him about half an hour of trekking through the snow to notice that there’s anything amiss. (Or: Maverick Mitchell is in the habit of talking to his ghosts. Usually, they don’t talk back.)

Mav’s journey through the underworld. This fic is just too creative😭Always a delight to see how loved Mav is. It’s so whimsical and confusing and so great.

the ships have come to carry you home by indigofudge

“Here it is,” Carole says, bringing Mav’s wheelchair to a stop. Mav’s mouth is dry. He aches for another cup of water. “Carole, tell me something, and don’t lie to me.” “Anything, Maverick.” “How bad does he look?” Carole is quiet for a while. Then she comes around and kneels in front of Mav, taking both of his hands in her own. Her eyes swim with tears. “If I didn’t know any better,” she says, voice breaking, “I’d think he was dead.” • Or, Goose is alive when they hit the water. That's enough.

Goose survives AU!!!! Huh? This isn’t canon? What are you talking about? Of course, Goose survives and the Bradshaw family is still whole and Mav still has his family and gets to have Ice too. What are you talking about??

Swallow by wildglitterwolf 

Ice is getting tired of Maverick's inability to be a team player. Maverick is annoyed by Ice's gum chewing. Ice is more than happy to get rid of it, he just needs a place to put it...

TT.TT Just… I didn’t know I like this dynamic so much…

HANGSTER

cruise control by res_judicata

Rooster’s plane goes down on a Tuesday.  Jake remembers that it’s a Tuesday because he had been out grabbing a quick bite for lunch with Javy and the little chalkboard on the wall of the cafe had proclaimed that Tuesday’s special was linguine in white wine with fresh mussels. (Jake deals with grief and love)

Made me cry a goddamn river. I’ve said this before, but Hangster is one of those ships that I had trouble getting into. When I first got into the fandom back in June 2022, I strictly read Icemav, never dipping my toes into Hangster’s relationship because I never felt the spark. But as time goes by I’m starting to warm up and have read more and more. This fic is one of those where it captured my attention instantly. I knew it was going to be angsty, but still holding out hope for a happy ending (just like Jake in this story). The grief that blanketed the whole writing only made the resolution more beautiful.

WHORES IN MY BED. by pornogirl

“Jake-” Bradley’s eyes have a wet glimmer to them, the kind of wet that looks like the beginnings of tears and Jake wants to kiss him so badly. “Jake, is it loaded?” Jake rolls his eyes at the question. “Open your fucking mouth.” (Author’s notes: it's really not as bad as the tags may suggest but like. read the fucking tags!)

I’m a freak and I’m not ashamed of it:) Basically, Jake's going on about how pretty Bradley is crying and scared. If this is your kink, definitely worth the read. I don’t know if it’s because I find it hot, but I don’t get the unsafe feeling as opposed to reading other works that have noncon elements. I don’t know it feels more like it’s both of their kinks or like something they’ve discussed before but Jake didn’t warn Bradley prior. Like CNC, I guess? Anyway it’s really hot and I have not looked at my retainers the same way;)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule @baroness-elsa

In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas.

This is so Jake and Bradley I’m blown away by how right they feel. Seriously. I didn’t even notice this was 66k words. The vibes, the writing, Jake’s family. Oh hell. Definitely check out the author’s other works too! They’ve got a lot of other Hangster long fics:)

cinnamon and sugar by bottledyarn

Jake was slumped in the doorway, propped up against the wall beside the door. He was a strange, pale, near-gray against the dark backdrop of his apartment, and he looked—well… “You look like shit," Bradley said. – Bradley draws the short straw and has to take care of Jake when he's sick with a stomach flu. Jake doesn't want to be taken care of.

Sigh. Jake and Bradley, man. They’re the ship that you can shove as much angst as you want and it’ll fit right in with their dynamic. They’re just so stubborn!!!! The push and pull between them is magnetic, man. I think I get why people love them.

habits by rararatatouille

Jake and Bradley come together in a series of jagged stops and starts. They fall apart in the exact same way. In which habits are hard to break, even for the people we love most.

Mannnnn. Goddamnit. I think this fic converted me to like Hangster. I think this has become canon in my brain too. I can’t even. Just read it. Words aren’t enough to describe this fic. 

Days Like This by chase_acow @cowsalot

Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?

So good. A 50 First Dates AU. Jake just loves Bradley so much, man. And Bradley finally showing up in the end. Love really will make you walk miles across Earth for your special person<3

OTHERS

Other pairings, romantic and not.

Mr. Blue Sky by omnidirectional

Tragedy first brings Iceman into Bradley’s life, but he quickly becomes the steadiest presence of the boy’s childhood… until a betrayal tears their small family apart. After years of silence, can Bradley find the words to make up for lost time? Five times Ice sings to Bradley, and the one time Bradley sings to Ice.

Another one from omnidirectional. Ice and Bradley’s father and son relationship… Here’s one of the tags: Who Wants To Cry Today? If you’re up for emotional damage, click the link🫵

On Mighty Wings by PurpleArrowzandLeather @purplearrowzandleather-blog

Maverick raised geese over the years while Bradley was gone. Bradley does not know this until the flock comes home for the summer.

Short and sweet. Legend author as well. Love the geese preening Mav and Bradley sobbing while surrounded by honks. This is just too damn cute!!

Neglected by proprioception @mnstrfkr

"Do I look God-fearing to you, ma'am?" Maverick asked with a grin. "You most certainly do not," Carole said. "That's why I didn't marry you." "That and the mustache," Goose added.

Can’t forget about this GooseMavCarole fic of course! Hot and heartwarming. Absolutely amazing smut. This one sparked my brain to make a fanart of my favorite polycule. Their dynamic is just so fun!

Yearling by Fopperies , pohjanneito @pilvimarja

Alone in a cabin in the snowy mountains, Maverick is supposed to help Bradley on the path to presenting as an alpha soon. Bradley's body has other ideas.

Just gonna put this here… A different take on ABO’s biology, which I absolutely love. It’s so hot… Bradley, I feel you, honey…

Seeing a Trailer by daenabenjen42

In the aftermath of the Layton rescue, Merlin has questions.

Sighs for the millionth time. It’s so good. Again, I love the portrayal of Mav’s PTSD and grief here. And it’s not just him, but daenabenjen42 wrote about the other boys’ trauma too. I love it so much I must’ve reread this one about fifty million times. 

in between what's already done by crawsley

“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.

This is legitimately one of the first, if not the first fic I’ve read from RoosMav. I still remember clearly going home from watching TG:M in the cinema and KNOWING that there were definitely going to be people who ship Mav and Roo. I rushed to AO3 straight away:D Imagine my delight when finding this one!

shake my nerves and rattle my brain by BogBeast

This wasn’t supposed to be intimate. This was about punishment, humiliation, stubbornness and spite. Not this gentle crap that made him sigh, the hand in his hair making his stomach swoop with every tug, the heavy scent making his head feel foggy, the praises making his heart skip a beat. That shit is just weird. The horrifying realization that he’s hard in his flight suit has nothing to do with it.  - Mav's gotten them into a lot of weird situations, but giving blowjobs to their rivals because of a stupid bet has to be the weirdest one.

Icemav AND Sloose? SIGN ME UP, BABY!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That’s all of it! This is my list for now. Thank you all for reading through to the end! Let me know if you enjoyed any of these fics so we can gush about them together:) I hope you enjoyed my yapping:}

My works have always and will continue to take inspiration from others. So thank you for creating stories as beautiful and profound as these, dear beloved authors<3

If you want to see my bookmark collection of all of these fics, click here >> TOPGUN (Best of the Best) While you’re there, how about you read some of my fics too?>:) EliasHirsch

(PS!!! There will be a 4th part because there are definitely more good fics that people need to know about:))

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. vi

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: you grow closer with sarah, and also with joel... pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.2k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY - oral sex (m receiving). alcohol consumption. Some angst, but mostly fluff, references to divorces/getting remarried/stepparents. anxious thoughts. a/n: this chapter is probably the least heavy. s/o to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about it, as always. lots of character/relationship/backstory for both joel and reader. i give reader a childhood nickname in this story, but it's not her actual name. also i made up a backstory for joel because he deserves it. hope you enjoy!

-June 5th, 2003-

“I think you missed a spot.”

“Yeah, that’s because you won’t hold still.”

Sarah scolds you for what feels like the hundredth time since you sat down. You feel a bit like a rambunctious child, and not so much a grown woman who has over fifteen years on her with the way she’s talking to you. To keep from giggling, you press your lips together tightly.

“You’re the one who begged to do this.”

“I did not,” she says, lacing mock offense into her voice – even with her head tilted down so you can’t see her mouth, you can tell she’s smiling. 

Sarah’s bent over your kitchen table, across from you, holding your thumb between two of her fingers. Meticulously, she’s painting a layer of pink, glittery polish on your nails. It’s been awhile since you started, and the near-suffocating chemical fumes of acetone and nail polish had grown so intense you’d already made her turn on the fan and open the window above your sink. It wasn’t really helping. And she’s got her face so close to your hand – laser focused – you’re a little concerned she’s going to poke herself in the eye. But you don’t dare correct her. This is a weekly ritual. Every Thursday night, you give each other manicures. It’s far more important to her, however.

“Oh my god, relax your fingers, you’re so rigid,” she reprimands you again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, a bit sheepish. You’ve been anxious, the energy having worked its way out to all your extremities, apparently. 

To be fair, you could do without this. You’ve never really cared about having your nails done growing up, and still don’t. They’ll look good for about two to three business days, and then they’ll chip. It’s always this way, regardless of what topcoat she puts on that claims it will make your nails last forever – maybe you’re just too rough with your hands. However, it’s the one thing Sarah doesn’t give you grief about, maybe because hers always chip, too. 

You keep letting her do it, though. Partly because she likes it so much – and it hasn’t gotten any easier to say no to her. The other part is reminded of what it’s like to be a kid again. When you were first sent away to school, you always kept your nails painted - a small act of rebellion, of self-expression after being forced into the same uniform day after day. When you’d come home on breaks you’d beg your brother to paint his nails, run down the hall after him with a bottle of polish. Vincent would never let you, but he would always find a compromise, which was usually a walk through Central Park, and paying for you to ride on the carousel. He’d stand off to the side, waving each time you passed. In those moments, you liked to pretend that things were normal, that there wasn’t a dark cloud lingering over you both. Because even then, you’d known. On the walk home, Vincent would let you hook your mittened hand in the crook of his elbow, and you’d tilt your head all the way back to look at the tops of the buildings, the sun poking through the clouds.

Sarah draws back from your hand, then releases it delicately to the tabletop, placing the brush back in the nail polish bottle. “There,” she says, screwing on the lid. You both lean forward to admire her work. “I’m getting better aren’t, I?”

“You definitely are,” you look at the obnoxious color – Aurora Berry-alis. It’s the exact opposite of anything you’d pick out for yourself, but you’ve been surprised at the compliments you’ve been getting at work from your coworkers whenever you are going over contracts or pointing out revisions. If anything, you think it might make them pay closer attention when you talk. You nod at Sarah appreciatively. “They look good.”

“I think you’re getting better, too,” she places her hands atop the table alongside yours, so you can compare. You’d painted hers the same color, because you always let her choose. Well, it’s less that you let her, and more that she tells you, and you know better than to argue. The first time she’d painted them, and you’d suggested a coat of clear, she had given you so much grief about how boring you were, that you had given in and let her do whatever she’d wanted. There is nothing more terrifying than a teenage girl thinking you are lame. 

“It’s always easier to paint someone else’s,” you answer. 

Sarah leans forward, and frowns when her eyes land on your thumbnail, the one with the scab at the base of it. “You really need to stop picking at your cuticles.”

“I can’t help it,” you say sheepishly. “It’s a bad habit.” Particularly when stressed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself.

“Well, it needs to stop,” she says pointedly, before planting her hands on the table and standing up. “I’m gonna get a ginger ale. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yeah, grab me one, too,” you blow on your fingers so they dry faster. 

Sarah disappears behind you, and you hear her rummaging through your fridge. “Do you not eat? Your fridge is basically empty.”

It’s only when she mentions it that you recall. “I do, I just forgot to go to the store this weekend.”

“How do you forget to buy food for yourself?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Sarah groans, and a few of your cabinets open and slam shut. “There’s no food here.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “I pretty much only buy stuff for you anyways, at this rate you might as well start chipping in on the grocery bill.”

“You sound like my dad.”

At the mention of Joel, you stiffen. 

Things have been a bit of a blur for the past few weeks. Between both of your work schedules, it’s been difficult to see one another, and even when you’re free – it has to be when Sarah’s away, which doesn’t happen often. And if she’s not in her own house, the second most likely place for her to be is at yours – so that makes it even more complicated. And both of you have agreed that she can’t find out. Because of that, you’ve only seen Joel a handful of times. 

“How is he?” you ask, nonchalantly. It’s a question you have asked her a hundred times before, just like you’ve asked after her best friend from school, Jennifer, or her grandparents, her Uncle Tommy – anyone from her life she talks about regularly. For some reason, you’re still expecting Sarah to hear these three words and sense that you’re not telling her something.

“He’s good,” she says, rustling through boxes. “Busy.” 

Yeah….busy. You could laugh when you think of the absurdity of the situation as a whole. There’s not a chapter in any of your self-help books that could teach you how to properly navigate it. So you’re left to figure it out for yourself, and hope you can without inflicting any permanent damage on her psyche. 

It makes you kind of nauseous actually. You knew her first. You were closer with her, first. It feels like a betrayal – and you’ve done enough of that in your life. This was supposed to be a way to start over, to do the right thing, but the sickness follows wherever you go.  You can’t stop it. What would happen if she found out? Would she be angry, mad, disgusted? She likes you, but as far as she knows, you aren’t romantically involved with her father. And that would certainly change things. 

Where it really gets problematic – you like Joel. So much more than you had expected. Well, maybe you’d been expecting it a little but not….like this. Of course, you know better than to be hopeful. Everything is still tentative, new. You’re figuring it out. It’s nice, at least, to savor the feeling while you have it, because it’s something you have felt so rarely.

All that considered, keeping it from her objectively is the right thing to do – for now. At least, that’s how you justify it to yourself.

“Actually he, uh, has been on a coupla dates lately,” Sarah returns to sit with a bag of stale Doritos and two ginger ales

“Really?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow, pretending this is new information. 

Sarah nods, and is careful to open both cans with the tip of a butter knife she brought over, so as not to chip her freshly painted nails. She speaks so nonchalantly, there’s no way she suspects anything. 

You test the waters. “How do you feel about that?”

“What are you, my guidance counselor?” 

You laugh first, and then she joins in, delighted by her clever joke. Once it fades, she surprises you by sobering up, quickly. “But uh….I don’t feel any way about it…I usually don’t care unless he introduces me to whoever he’s with.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say. “I remember when my dad did that. Always weird, right?”

“Always,” she repeats, sounding relieved that you understand. “But it doesn’t happen often. I think he’s careful. But things have just never felt….right. With any of them.”

“What, like, they weren’t nice?” 

“No, just….I could tell they didn’t really care…” she says. “About me….”

You want to tell her that’s not true. But you’d only be speaking for yourself, and this isn’t about you. 

“What about you?” she asks, and you realize you’ve been frowning. “Did you get along with your dad’s girlfriends when you first met them?”

“I mean, it wasn’t so much a meeting as it was my father introducing us and saying ‘Pixie, Meredith is going to be your stepmother,' and then that was that."

“Your stepmother’s name was really Meredith?” Sarah asks incredulously. “Like in The Parent Trap?”

You consider this, the realization hitting. “Yeah, I guess so,” and you both laugh. 

“Oh boy,” Sarah says. “Stepmom? If my dad gets remarried, I think…things would change…”

“How so?”

“What if she hates me? And then dad stops spending time with me? What if he has another kid, and they forget about me?” She pauses, but not long enough for you to shut it down without interrupting. “I mean, tell me what happened with your stepmom. Did you become an afterthought? ”

“Uh, well….” you wrinkle your nose. “I mean, yeah, but I was never exactly a priority to begin with.”

To you, it’s such a casual statement of fact, so at first, you’re not sure why Sarah looks so distraught by the response. “Oh, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….” Her shoulders sag, just a little.

“Oh,” you wave your hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine. What I’m trying to say is from everything you’ve told me about your dad, and everything I know myself –” which is more than you think “– he would never let that happen.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she says, bobbing her head. “But I can’t help but think about it.”

“Those are just thoughts…” you offer. And you’re no longer even approaching this conversation with the context of being the woman who is with Joel. You just want to make her feel better. “Doesn’t mean they’ll come true.”

It seems to placate her. “Yeah. You’re right,” she nods, and takes a sip from her ginger ale. “I do worry about my dad, though. It’s just the two of us, and I know he gets lonely. And who knows, maybe someday he’ll end with someone I actually like. That could be fun,” Sarah smiles a little. “So long as they don’t boss me around.”

“Boss you around?” you ask, taking a sip from your own can and raising your eyebrows. “I wish them the best.”

“Shut up,” she says, then giggles. “But also…fair point.”

Suddenly, you sit up from where you’d been leaning back into the wood of your kitchen chair. And it seems like as good a time as ever to change the subject, because you’ve far overstayed your welcome lingering. “Oh, by the way, before I forget…stay right there, I have something for you.”

“What? What is it?”

You rise from your seat, and walk a few paces to the basket in the corner of the room. “You’ve got that camping trip coming up soon, and it gets chilly at night….” You dig through your knitting materials until you find what you’re looking for. Once you do, you place it in front of Sarah on the tabletop. 

“What? No way!” she exclaims, picking up the baby blue knit cap in front of her. “You knitted me a hat?”

“Yeah,” you say, a bit sheepishly. “I meant to wrap it but-”

“It’s so cute,” Sarah cuts you off. “Can I try it on?”

“Of course, it’s yours.”

She jumps up from her seat and saunters to the mirror that hangs above the credenza just inside your front door. You follow her, standing behind her as she tugs the hat over her head. “What do you think?”

“Here,” you murmur, reaching over her shoulder to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, tucking it under the beanie, and pulling it further down in the back so it covers her ears as intended. Then you both look in the mirror. “I like it. Do you like it?” 

“Yes,” she says, incredulous. “I can’t believe you made this for me.”

“I’ve hardly been knitting lately because it is so hot here. And you’ve been talking about how excited you are for this trip since I met you, so…it only felt right.”

Sarah whirls around quickly to wrap you in a hug, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind her – arm across the back of the pink hoodie she’s wearing. There’s a vague sense of longing in your expression, and you wonder what it might have been like to have someone in your life who could have given you the things your parents never did. Maybe there’s still a way to right all the wrongs. And not just for yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 6th, 2003-

“Come in!” 

You’re closing the oven when you hear the knock on your screen door. It slams shut, and you peer through the entrance of your kitchen to the front foyer – just to make sure you haven’t invited an axe murderer into your home. 

The concern is fleeting, because you see it’s just Joel, bent over, untying his work boots and slipping them off. You like to think of yourself as easygoing, but you don’t allow him to wear them inside the house. All it took was some side eye the last time he’d tracked dirt all over your clean carpets, and then you never had to ask him again. But really, it was a minor inconvenience compared to some of the shit your past boyfriends had pulled. For example, this past year you actually had to utter the sentence ‘I don’t want you stashing your coke in my underwear drawer’ out loud to a grown man. So, even if the bar was so low you could step over it – and hardly bend a knee – it was something you had learned to appreciate about him.

You’ve made a roasted whole chicken – which is surprisingly easy, and mostly involves root vegetables and a lot of butter. Then it just cooks in the oven. It’s sort of your go-to when you actually decide to cook, but it’s too much food for one person. But you like that if you make it at the beginning of the week, you can eat leftovers for several days after. You hope Joel will appreciate it – not that you are trying to impress him, well, who are you kidding? You definitely are. It’s just one of those things you are ashamed to admit to yourself. 

You turn to the sink, pulling off the yellow rubber gloves you’d bought to wash dishes in – in an effort to preserve your manicure. “Hey,” you say, when you hear his footsteps shuffling behind you. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, and before you can turn, his lips are on your cheek, his hand on your shoulder, and he takes in the scene of your kitchen. “Would you like some help?”

“I’m good,” you look around. It was maybe a little messy, but the dishes were soaking and all you have to do is wipe off the countertops. It tends to happen when you cook. You’re not great at mise en place. Still, you have a system, and it works for you, and it stresses you out to have helpers in the kitchen. “Everything’s in the oven already.” 

Turning finally, you take Joel all the way. He looks tired. Shoulders slumped, hair mussed. You reach out, pull a piece of sawdust out from one of his waves, flick it into the sink. “Why don’t you go sit in the front room?” you ask him. “I’ll be in, just give me a second.”

He’s been busy, putting in extra hour into his first contracting gig, and it appears it’s starting to take its toll. 

“Okay,” he nods, hesitant, stepping back. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel settles onto your couch with his hands over his face. He’s upset with himself. For as much as he likes you, he’s barely seen you since your first date – and tonight, the one night he gets the chance, he’s utterly spent. 

He rubs his eyes, looks towards your record player in the corner of the room, some melancholy jazz playing over the speakers. In the kitchen, dishes clink together, and a cabinet shuts lightly. Joel lets his head loll back against the plush cushions of your couch, savoring the only peace he’s felt all day.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” your voice cuts in, and Joel doesn’t know how you had snuck up on him, but when he peers up at you, standing over him, you’re holding out a frosted tumbler. 

The floral apron you’d been wearing when he first came in is gone, so he sees more clearly the blush button-down you’ve paired with khaki slacks. Your hair is clipped back from your face, reading glasses on your head. He thinks of your coworkers who get to see you looking like this everyday, and gets a little envious. “What’s this?”

“A drink,” you say. “I thought you might need one.”

“Is it that obvious?” He feels a little guilty that it’s so clear to you what’s wrong, and you’ve barely spoken yet. Despite everything, Joel can’t help but feel warm, accepting the beverage graciously. The thin layer of ice coating the outside of the drink melts the second his fingers wrap around it, brushing against your own. 

“Only a little,” you give him a soft smile before clinking glasses.

It’s some kind of whiskey, served over ice and it’s fucking good. It goes down far too easy, and he immediately takes another pull. You settle next to him while he does, but not so close that you’re touching. Joel is no stranger to how tentative you are with him, still. But he likes you regardless. He’s holding something fickle in his palm, and he understands he’d better hold still so as not to break it. 

“Long day?” you ask, and reach out to trace your knuckle up his arm absentmindedly. 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs. “Things just keep goin’ wrong.”

“And you’re the problem solver now?”

“Something like that,” Joel says. You’d already drilled him about the ins and outs of his job awhile back. Being a contractor, while it’s a step up from his last job, and makes him more money – is much more demanding. People actually answer to him, now. 

“I’m sorry…that sounds stressful,” you empathize. “I’m sure you’ll get a handle on it soon enough.”

Joel nods. Even if his brain has been telling him otherwise, he’s inclined to believe you. 

Carefully – but not at all hesitantly, you reach out, hand curling around the back of his neck. Its the same one you’d been using to hold your glass so it’s comfortingly cool against his skin – still heated from a day spent under the sun. Joel feels his heart rate pick up as you move in closer. When your lips connect with his own, the kiss is gentle, affectionate. A proper greeting. 

A flash of something, white hot, swipes up the sides of his neck, into his face. He’s a little embarrassed at the effect your touch has on him. Everything is still so new. And he’s hardly gotten the time alone with you to get it out of your system.

You deepen the kiss, it becomes deeper, more sensual, and he feels the switch flip. Almost as though you can sense his arousal, your hand slips down, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Your mouth never leaves his, you never pull away to look down, and he’s hard by the time you cup him through his underwear. And he’s still so taken aback he can’t stifle the noise he makes – directly into your mouth.

Your fingers hook through his belt loops to shuck his pants and underwear down, and the comfort of your body pressed against him disappears. Blinking open his eyes, he reaches out to pull you back. “What are you-” he cuts himself off when he sees you kneeling between his parted knees. 

In response, your hands plant high on his thighs. “What does it look like?” you ask, your chin tilting back, eyes glimmering.

Oh. 

“May I?” So polite, considering the offer. 

Joel nods wordlessly, and he watches you lean forward. His eyes squeeze shut right before you take him in your mouth – because he knows if he doesn’t ease his way into this, he won’t last. 

You don’t waste time teasing or kissing or anything like that. You’re not gonna drag things out. Maybe it’s because dinner’s in the oven and your time is limited, or maybe this is just how you are.

He aches, and in one go, you wrap your mouth around him and take him as deep as you can, he feels your throat constrict when you can’t go any further. Then, you do it again, again. It goes on that way, until he’s coated with saliva and the slide of your lips up and down the length of him feels as soft as the silk of your shirt, which he’s unintentionally fisting, trying to hold back. 

Your hands squeeze his thighs, massaging them gently while you work diligently. It’s fast, but not so fast he can’t enjoy himself. Sloppy, but he prefers it that way. It’s perfect. He thinks you’re fucking perfect. 

He decides he has to see you, watch you, and leans back to take you in more fully. One of his hands rises to slip under your chin, angles your face so your eyes lock with his own.  “Look at me,” he says, a little press to get you to engage. He’s learning how to push you– just enough to get what he needs without scaring you away. And he’s rewarded when you moan around him, the vibration around his cock only bringing him closer to release. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he murmurs, and you groan again at the praise – he relishes in how well he’s getting to know you, learning what gets you off – in the short time you’ve been together. “You look so pretty with your mouth full.” 

Then he moves his hand to sift into your hair, collecting it gently at your nape so it stays out of the way, and he can gently guide you along.

You pull off him for a moment, your breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet. You look so good, out of breath and overworked all just to please him. And you don’t relinquish all contact, your hand replacing, your mouth so you can jerking him off, twisting slightly at the top and letting your thumb run over the head of his cock. “You work so hard, Joel,” you mumble. “Just want to take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he growls at the words. Words he’ll remember on nights when you aren’t lying next to him in bed. He’s got to hold out a little longer, just to see what else you might say. 

It’s all you offer, though, because you wrap your lips around him once more. 

He’s getting close. It wasn’t going to take much to begin with – but it’s the first time you’ve ever gone down on him, it’s been a long day, everything is compiling together to make him feel hotter and hotter, the pressure at the apex of his thighs reaching its precipice. One of your hands leaves his thighs to cup his balls, the other working the part of him your mouth doesn’t reach. He loses all his composure, his head falling back as his hips roll forward, choked sounding phrases leaving him. “Keep going, baby – just like that– so fucking good–”

You obey, because of course you do, and before he knows it – he’s coming, hard. You don’t pull back at all, just swallow him down as he pulses down your throat.

Joel covers his face with his hands and tries to steady his breathing, thoroughly spent. He’s fucking hungry, still, but at this rate, he may fall asleep soon. Warm palms land on his chest. For a moment, he’d nearly forgotten where he was.

“You good?” he opens his eyes to find you hovering over him, amusement in your expression.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles, reaches out. “You can’t be fucking real,” he murmurs softly, hand on your cheek. 

“Oh,” You pull back to retrieve your drink and take a sip. “I’m very real.” 

“Come here.” He rasps, pulling you forward into a kiss. 

When he attempts to deepen it, you pull back slightly. “Hey, uh…dinner’s gonna be ready any minute.” 

“Oh?” Joel asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “And I’m actually….well I’m actually kind of proud of it, so maybe we shouldn’t get too distracted.” 

“Really?” Joel settles on pulling you against his chest, and you settle there easily. He’s hit in these moments with the awe that you let him this close, that you’re willing to do even more for him, you already have. “Sarah told me you can’t cook.”

“What?” you say incredulously, your head lifting off his chest. “That’s not true. I can, I just don’t.”

“You seemed to know what you’re doing.” 

“I do,” you say confidently, then grimace. “Well, I mean, I can follow a recipe.”

Joel laughs. “I’m sure it’ll be good.” Your head goes back against his chest. He’s careful not to disturb you too much when he reaches for the remainder of his whiskey. “What is this?”

“Dunno,” and instead of reaching out for your own glass, you bring the hand that holds his own down to your lips to take a sip. He strokes your hair, watches you. “Bourbon.”

“It’s good,” Joel says, and drinks again. He wants to down the glass, then steal from yours like you did to him, but it tastes expensive. 

You continue on. “A client gave it to me today for some pro-bono work I did. It’s probably meant to be served neat, but….it’s too hot for that.”

“Nice of you to help them out.”

You make a noise of affirmation, almost dismissive, and Joel continues on.  “I should be doing more of that sort of thing.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug.

“You know I…..” you trail off for a minute, like you’re trying to decide if you want to share something with him. “All I do is work for corporations all day. I have to be kind of….manipulative? Self-serving. It’s a little exhausting. It’s nice when I can use my skills to actually help people, you know?”

“Can’t really picture you being manipulative,” Joel let’s his thumb graze over your cheek. 

He thinks you might laugh, but instead you pull back, your expression unreadable. It’s easy to see that you’re studying him carefully, and he strokes your arm, giving you the space to continue. “You should know I haven’t always been the best person, Joel. No one has ever really looked out for me, so….”  you trail off. “But I’ve been trying. To be better.”

You say it like you’re not convinced. Like you’ve been told it’ll never be possible. Joel gazes tucks your hair behind your ear reverently. “Wherever you’re at right now,” he says. “Is plenty good for me.”

“Yeah well,” your eyes flicker away – maybe it was too much. “Helps that I’ve been spending all my time with you and Sarah.” You smile gently, then change the subject. “Did you see, she did my nails?” 

Joel looks down at your hands. 

“What do you think?” you ask. 

“They’re very….pink.” 

“They are.” 

Joel is thankful that Sarah has an outlet that’s not himself for something like this. He tries to imagine what it would be like to show up at work with his nails painted, and knows that he’d get shit for the rest of his life. “Better you than me, I guess.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

He laughs. 

“Where is Sarah, tonight, anyways?” you ask Joel. 

“My parents take her out for dinner at the end of every school year,” Joel says. 

“Oh,” you seem a little surprised by the mention of his parents. “Do they live nearby?” 

“Not too far,” Joel says. “About an hour and a half drive out of the city, close to Fredericksburg. They’re on a ranch….out in the sticks.” 

“Is that where you grew up?” 

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile to himself. “It’s different now, but….my parents owned a strawberry patch.” 

“Are you serious?” 

It seems like a different lifetime ago, but Joel still remembers it all so vividly. The busy spring season, visitors from the city flocking to his family’s little farm in the middle of nowhere to pick the ripe fruit straight from the vine. His father had taught him how to mend fences and keep the pests away, and his mother taught him how to tend to the plants, to prune and nurture. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Joel shakes his head, continuing to recall. “Tommy and I would always try to sneak as many strawberries as we could without our parents noticing,” Joel recalls. “And then inevitably eat so many he’d make himself sick, then we’d both get in trouble.” 

“Oh my god,” you shake your head in disbelief. “This doesn’t sound real. I need photos.” 

“I have them…somewhere,” Joel says, and he’s sure they’re buried in a box in the back of his closet. 

“It sounds so…idyllic,” you say, shaking your head. Joel had never thought much of it. Of course, when you’re a kid, your perspective is so narrow. Maybe he didn't realize how good he had it, and he supposes, to the right person, it might sound like a lie. It dawns on him that you're both so fundamentally different, but it doesn't feel that way.

A timer dings in the other room. 

“That’s the oven,” you say, shifting away from him and standing up. You offer him your hand to help him off the couch, and he bats it away, buttoning up his jeans before joining you. “Let’s eat.” 

Joel realizes that all the stress from the day has melted off, and he can’t even remember what exactly had him so flustered earlier. Right now, everything feels alright. 

---

tags: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44

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[narumi-gens]

Cupid's Arrow - The Set Up

Miya Osamu x f!Reader

summary: There’s no such thing as Cupid’s arrow. But fortunately for you and Osamu, you both have Atsumu. (OR: how Atsumu decided to play matchmaker for you and Osamu.)

warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, pure fluff, bad dating stories, best friend!tsumu, reader is really going through it — what a champ, reader is really just trying their best, but it's ok bc you and osamu are destined for happiness and marital bliss, atsumu for best wingman 2023 (but like a sneaky little wingman who uses underhanded tricks)

notes: wanted to start a little drabble series about platonic!reader and osamu's relationship but told from atsumu's POV so here we are. this can definitely be read on its own though.

words: 1.6k

part of the Meet the Miyas series

Atsumu would find your misfortune in dating funny if there wasn’t so much of it. Actually, that’s not true. He still finds it funny. How could he not?

“Atsumu! That guy I went on a date with? He sneezed in my face and didn’t even apologize!”

“You know that guy I just started seeing? It turns out he has a wife and a girlfriend! They found out about each other and confronted him while we were on a date. Didn’t you see the video I posted? It's going viral!”

“So I thought it was a date, but actually he was trying to recruit me to his pyramid scheme.”

“Oh my god. This guy was so annoying. He wouldn’t stop fooling around with the ball at mini-golf and I ended up getting hit. Anyway, long story short the doctor said I have a scratch on my cornea and have to use these eye drops for the next few days.”

While the stories never get old, he does feel bad for you. You’re his best friend after all. These scrubs that you’ve been going out with don’t even deserve a second glance from you, let alone an entire date. 

And so finally, after hearing about your latest misadventure in single life (“Oh, can you cover dinner? That guy I went out for drinks with yesterday stole my wallet.”), Atsumu decides it’s not just his duty to step in as your closest friend, but his duty as a decent person. 

“Samu, when’s the last time ya went out on a date?” he asks his brother the next time that he sees him, only to receive the most uninterested look in response.

“Don’t get involved in my love life,” he firmly warns the setter with narrowed eyes and Atsumu scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“What love life? Yer married to onigiri!” he cries as he points an accusatory finger directly at said onigiri in Osamu’s hand. 

He’s honestly surprised that Osamu doesn’t throw it in his face with how annoyed he now looks, but he also knows the chef would never waste Kita’s rice like that. 

“I could get a date if I wanted. I don’t need yer help,” he insists.

“Duh, you have my face even if yer missin’ my amazing hair and personality.” When his cocky grin is met with a flat look, Atsumu realizes he might need to go for a different approach — the caring, earnest, brotherly approach. “Look, I know someone I think ya’d really like.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?” The question is asked with mocking disbelief, as if there’s no universe where Atsumu could successfully play matchmaker for his brother. 

He’s only too happy to prove him wrong, so when says your name, it’s with smug pride. He prepares himself for the bounty of gratitude that Osamu is about to shower him with.

Only, that doesn’t happen. His brother scoffs and turns his attention fully back to his onigiri, dismissing the idea of going on a date with you entirely. Atsumu can’t help but feel a prickle of offense on your behalf (and his own). 

“Hey! She’s a real catch, y’know!” he cries out. And it’s true. 

You’re smart, you’re successful, you’re funny, and you both always have the best time when you hang out together. And while he’s reluctant to admit it because he never likes to think of you in that way, you’re also attractive. He knows his brother isn’t blind to it either. 

The two of you have only met a few times in passing since he’s known you, but Atsumu’s eyes are too sharp from years of volleyball to have missed how Osamu’s gaze tends to linger on your ass just a bit longer than is polite. He knows pointing that out would not go well.

“She’s the one doin’ me the favor by agreein’ to go out with a scrub like you,” he continues to argue. But, it’s that part that isn’t entirely true. 

You actually have no idea that Atsumu is trying to meddle in your dating life. However, that’s something he can easily deal with once he’s convinced Osamu to take you out. While he would never call you desperate, at least not to your face, at this point you’ll go out on a date with anyone. It’s his brother that’s the real hurdle in this scheme.

“Ya want me to date yer best friend?” Osamu asks slowly. 

“Yeah, what’s so crazy about that?” he frowns.

“First, I’d never get ya out of my life if that happened,” he says blandly and continues over Atsumu’s squawk of protest. “Besides, there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with her if she willingly chooses to spend so much time with ya.”

“Look, would it kill ya to go on just one date?” He doesn’t mention that if things go according to plan, it won’t be just one date. It’ll be a lifetime of happiness for the two most important people in his life. But that’s something that he doesn’t think Osamu would find as compelling as he does. 

“The restaurant ain’t gonna burn down or anything just cause ya spend a couple of hours outside of it. All yer rice’ll still be here when ya get back.”

Osamu gives him the dirtiest look, but then, after a long moment, he sighs heavily and Atsumu knows that he’s cleared the first hurdle. All he has to do is clear the next one. Thankfully it’s much lower.  

“Hey, I got someone I wanna set ya up with.”

“Who?” Just as he expected, you immediately sound interested and willing. 

“Samu.”

There’s a long pause and he begins to worry that the low hurdle that he needs to clear is actually higher than he anticipated. 

“Your brother?” you finally ask, your expression wrinkling with confusion.

“Yeah. Why? What’s the big deal?” Now he’s the one confused as he watches your small frown begin to grow a little deeper.

“I don’t know. Isn’t it kind of…weird?” Your hesitancy towards going out with Osamu is a least a lot more gentle than Osamu’s was towards you. “You guys are identical twins. You have the same face and everything. Wouldn’t it be like dating you?”

There’s a hint of disgust in your tone and he would be offended if he didn’t feel the same way about the notion of dating you.

“You could only be so lucky,” he says with a snort before deciding that he’ll have to pull out the caring, earnest, brotherly approach once again. “Please? I’m worried if he doesn’t go out with someone soon then he’s just gonna spend the rest of his life alone with his onigiri.” 

This is yet another half-truth that he has to tell in this scheme. Because while he does sometimes think that Osamu’s on the path to becoming a hermit, he’s way more concerned about you. With the way things are going for you, one day he’s going to get a call about how some scumbag that you’re in love with emptied your bank account and ran off in the middle of the night. 

But the half-truth seems to work because pity momentarily flashes across your face. He just needs to push a little bit more.

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but he asked if he thought he had a shot with ya,” he sighs, trying to sound reluctant, like he’s had no choice but to reveal this made-up secret. And what can it hurt? It’s just another white lie.

“He did?” You sound baffled rather than flattered and he hopes you can’t see the spike of panic that he feels. “What brought that on? I haven’t even seen him in forever.”

“He saw yer thirst trap on Instagram,” he blurts out to distract you and he breathes a sigh of relief when you gasp at the accusation.

“I told you! It wasn’t a thirst trap! I genuinely wanted to know if that outfit was appropriate for a work event!” you whine pathetically.

“Okay, yeah. Sure,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Nothing says business like a shirt unbuttoned so low that your hot-pink bra peeks out.”

You open your mouth to protest your innocence but Atsumu cuts you off before the argument can really get started. The mission here is to ensure yours and Osamu’s eternal happiness and he intends to see success.

“Look, you deserve someone who treats ya right,” he offers, sincerity shining through in his words and expression. “Samu’s a good guy. I trust him with ya.”

“I don’t know…” you trail off, sounding much less firm in your reservations than only a few minutes before.

“Remind me what happened on yer last date?” 

You look away from him with a petulant frown.

“…he ordered his food to go and then left me at the restaurant,” you mutter under your breath.

He raises an eyebrow as if that says it all — which it does. You just roll your eyes with a huff.

“Fine!” you relent, throwing your hands up in the air before pointing a firm finger in his direction. “But if it gets weird then I’m blaming you.”

He just grins triumphantly and pulls out his phone so that he can send your number to Osamu. But then he sees you suddenly pout and groans at your dramatics.

“What’s wrong now?” he asks impatiently and your pout grows deeper.

“Y’know he could at least have liked my thirst trap,” you mumble and Atsumu’s eyes light up.

“So you admit it! It was a thirst trap!” he crows, even as he hopes that it doesn’t come out until you guys are married that Osamu only ever uses Instagram to post on Onigiri Miya’s business account.

[riverlikethelake]

May the dead walk again

Summary: Your foster fathers, Max and Norm present you with an avatar, an early birthday gift and it feels like the weight of the world has been simultaneously lifted and placed on your shoulders. After running into a Na'vi boy, you're taken to the Omaticaya and given the chance to become one of the people, your friend's older brother being the one to teach you.

Pairing: Neteyam x Avatar!reader

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings/notes: mentions of death, depression, angst, fluff, development of platonic/familial relationships, Spider tries, Protective!Norm, foster family in the lab, the beginning was written when i was sleep deprived, slowburn, slight enemies to lovers, Neteyam and reader are in denial

series master list | Would stardust fix us? Part one.

The Na’vi say that everyone is born twice, it’s a metaphor for young Na’vi going through their iknimaya and earning their place in the clan, but sometimes you wish it was more than that. You pray to Eywa, a god, a mother you’ve never known, and doubt will ever feel, that when you die you will get reborn. Maybe you’re manifesting an early demise, but you cannot bring yourself to care.  

You will die, everyone does, your death has just always been by your side, its weight enveloping you in a suffocating embrace, plaguing your life with its entire being.  

So, you pray to be reborn, into a body with legs that will carry you across the planet you were born on yet never get to see, with a heart that will beat steady as you run, with lungs that will breathe in the deadly air that you crave to feel blowing on your skin.  

You sit in one of the chairs, knees to your chest hunched over as you read one of Grace’s logs. You keep your eyes glued to the screen even as you hear the decompression chamber going off. You hear the chatter of your brother and friends as they enter the lab, you don’t have to turn around to know that the quick footsteps are Kiri running over to see her mother in the Amnio tank. 

Large hands rest on your shoulders from behind as Lo’ak leans over to look at the computer you’re reading on. “Watcha reading about this time?” he asks, amusement in his voice. You rest your head against his forearm.  

“Razor palm” you answer, you see him tilt his head in confusion out of the corner of your eye. “pxiut” you add.  He thinks for a moment before shaking his head “px-iu-t" he drawls, showing you the correct pronunciation.  

“pxiut” you state, correctly this time. He grins and pats your shoulder before pulling back and turning to lean on the desk. Spider walks up and glances at your screen, he leans in inspecting the image and shrugs. “My drawing was better” He grins. 

You roll your eyes and smile “Oh definitely, the detail you had?” you tease, dramatically doing a ‘chef’s kiss’ motion. Spider playfully smacks the side of your head and backs away, turning to walk to Kiri. You turn your attention back to the screen, reading about the plant.  

The world of Pandora always fascinated you, the plants and animals that resided on the planet captured your eye from a young age. You grew up staring out the windows of the biolab into the world beyond, once you learned to read, your birthday gifts were always wider access to all the files they had about pandora, from the process of its discovery to the day-to-day experiments Max runs.  

You never stepped foot outside the lab doors though, you barely even stepped outside your room. When you were younger, you’d pester Spider about what he saw, making him describe each plant and animal in detail. He’d oblige you, staying up late telling you stories of his adventures, he even started drawing plants he found. It was the closest you got to the world beyond, your obsession with anything and everything Pandora growing with each moment you could feel the presence of what laid beyond the walls. 

Lo’ak watches as you pay full attention to the screen in front of you, completely absorbed in your own world. He taps on the desk to get your attention. “So, the little hideaway is finally out of her room huh?” he teases, your eyes flutter to him before going back to the screen. “Don’t get used to it” you mumble. 

He chuckles, “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, what's new?” he leans forward, keeping his eyes on you. You shrug “Not much, I looked over the test samples Norm collected, nothing you’d be interested in though” you explain, leaning back into the chair as you looked at him.  

Lo’ak scrunches his nose “It seems like that’s all you do now” you nod, he huffs “But you don’t even go outside, you’re so obsessed with the world, but you don’t even know what it looks like up close.” You give him a look before turning back to your computer. 

You’ve heard him complain about your lack of interest in seeing Pandora many times before, it confused him how your brother couldn’t stay in the forest long enough while you were rarely seen outside of your room. Truthfully, all you wanted was to see the forest, touch the grass and soil like your brother does, climb through trees and hear the sounds of nature. It was something you desperately wanted but never let yourself indulge in, knowing that once you got a taste, nothing would ever be enough, limited by your very being. 

But all you tell Lo’ak is you’d much rather research it than see it. He rolls his eyes and pushes off from the desk, you sigh in relief, assuming the barrage is over, but you yelp when Lo’ak grabs the back of the rolly chair and pulls you out and to the middle of the lab, spinning you so that you face Kiri and Spider. 

“Sister! You cannot possibly be ok with Y/n living her life like a-… what does dad call it?” He leans over the chair, braids falling in front of you as he faces you upside down “A hermit.” he states. You frown swatting at his braids, beads clicking together as they collide.  

“Lo’ak leave her alone” Kiri pushes at his head so he is no longer engulfing you, she places a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Lo’ak frowns “What? You have always been on my side about this”  

Kiri rolls her eyes “Yes, and I still am, but this is no longer about Y/n going outside, this is about your pride and ego.” She states, pulling your chair forward, out of his grasp “seeing who can get the other to falter” Kiri was always a firm believer that you needed to see Pandora, but she took a much more careful approach than Lo’ak, telling you about it’s beauty and encouraging you much like a mother coaxing her child into taking their first steps. 

You look up to Kiri who’s raising her eyebrows at Lo’ak, you hear Lo’ak grumble before she pulls back, satisfied with her victory. You look past her, making eye contact with Spider, you raise your brows, and he nods. He climbs off the tank Grace stays in and shoos Kiri and Lo’ak away, taking a hold of your chair and rolling you back to your desk. 

Your friends weren’t unaware of your condition, but you didn’t like the faces they made when they saw it affect you firsthand, how they’d walk on eggshells around you. So, Spider would always cover you, finding some way to get the attention off you or get you out of the room. 

“Just let Y/n do her thing, you’re gonna make her retreat back to her little hideout” he teases lamely, ruffling your hair. You stick your tongue out at him, but smile, placing your hand on his in a way to say thank you.  

The past few weeks, whenever you stood up or walked, you’d feel like you were going to faint and would need several minutes to recover and stabilize, hence your lack of presence whenever the Sully kids visited. Of course Spider would brush off their worry and tell this it you were just being moody, wanting to be alone, or getting in a fight. But you could only be gone so long without raising suspicion. 

You tune out your friends as they bicker, trying to read the rest of the report but your mind was flooded with thoughts. You glance to the corner of your screen, looking at the time. Norm and Max would be back at any moment, and they will throw a fit if they find you out of your bed. 

You think for a minute, weighing your options. Norm wasn’t subtle about his worry for you, nor was he good at hiding your condition from others. If he came back now, there’s no guarantee he’d get the memo to keep Lo’ak and Kiri out of the loop. If you got up now, you’d no doubt cause worry, they’re already suspicious about your disappearance the past few weeks. But, Lo’ak and Kiri don’t actually know much about humans, you could always blame your adverse reaction on dehydration or not eating anything. 

You thought for a moment before pushing away from the desk and standing up, you groan as you feel your head swirl, limbs suddenly feeling like jello. Within a second, Spider’s at your side, placing himself under your arm to support you. 

You throw your head back groaning, Kiri and Lo’ak are at your side asking questions, running their hands across your arm and forehead. “M’fine, just dehydrated” you mumble as Spider starts to lead you away.  

Kiri starts to fuss at you about taking care of yourself when you hear the decompression door opening. Before you can react, you hear Norm calling out your name. You groan at the loud noise, a lump forming in your throat. There goes your plan. 

Norm and Max rush over, Spider transfers you to them, Norm fully picking you up in his arms. “What are you doing outside of your room? You know how unstable you are right now” He fusses. You groan “M’fine Norm” Your head is throbbing, your eyes screw shut and your tongue feels heavy and numb in your mouth. 

“What do you mean unstable?” Lo’ak presses, stepping forward to inspect you. You open your eyes, frowning. “I’m fine Lo’ak, they’re just being dramatic” you swat at him, shaking your head. 

“Y/n you look like you’re going to pass out, I don’t think you’re fine” he retorts, raising his brows. You look to Max hoping he’d help your case, but he just shrugs “You need rest Y/n” he explains. You roll your eyes and shake your head, pushing at Norm’s chest to be let down. 

“I can take care of myself” you state, embarrassed at the commotion your foster fathers were making. Norm grunts and starts walking out of the room, ignoring the questions your friends keep asking. He makes it to the back of the building before you notice everyone following you, Spider catching up and telling Max something you can’t make out. 

Before you know it, you’re being laid down on your bed and Max is making quick work of the medication and equipment kept by your bed. You sit up as Max wraps a blood pressure monitor around your arm, huffing as Norm places a hand on your forehead. He points Spider to the pack of water bottles they keep by your nightstand; he grabs one and hands it to Norm who quickly opens it and presses it to your lips. 

“Ok ok that’s enough” you announce, leaning back away from the bottle. “I know you think I'm helpless but I'm not, I'm almost 18, not a baby” you state, glaring at the scientist. “Well Y/n when you can’t even stay in bed long enough to recover, what else are we supposed to do?” He retorts. 

Your furrow your brows, rolling your eyes “I’ve been cooped up back here my entire life, I think one day outside of the room I haven’t left in three weeks is fine” you mumble, looking to Kiri and Lo’ak who are peeking in through your door. Norm follows your gaze, his expression softening when he lands on the Sully kids. He looks back to you as you avert your gaze, pursing your lips. 

Sighing, he turns and walks towards the Na’vi kids. “Y/n is fine, she got sick a few weeks ago and we didn’t know what it was so it was a hard recovery” he explains “But we have a better handle on it now, she just needs some water and rest and she’ll be ok” he watches as they glance to each other, worry spread across their face. 

They look to you before retreating, murmuring to each other. You bring your knees to your chest, burying your face into your arms. Spider crawls over you, sitting on your side, wrapping an arm around you.  

You take deep breaths, pinching your eyes shut. After a moment Max takes the monitor off you and his hand takes its place. “Get some rest Bug, it’s the fastest way to recover” he squeezes your arm before standing up, he places a quick kiss on the top of your head and walks out. 

Norm watches you for a second and sighs, ruffling your hair and walking out, closing the door behind him. You don’t lift your head even after they leave, so Spider rests his head on your shoulder.  

Even as a kid you felt uneasy about others knowing your condition, there was no way to completely hide it so you settled with avoiding the topic all together. You were sick, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna die if they breathe on you too hard or say something too loud. Hell, not even Spider knows the full extent to your condition. It already controlled every aspect of your life, the least you wanted was to have some sense of a normal social life. 

After a moment you turn your head just enough to peak your eyes out to see Spider, he notices and makes eye contact, a soft expression passing over his face. “What did you see?” you mumble, barely audible. He chuckles, leaning back against your headrest.  

“Well Lo’ak decided to ride a Pa’li, it was the first time i saw their resting place and there were so many pitcher plants, Pa’liwll Kiri says” he explains, quietly you repeat the name, running through the catalogs in your head for a visual. “Oh and we saw an ‘angtsik from above…” he continues, describing what seemed to be a once in a lifetime adventure for you when for him, it was every other day. 

You listen as he laughs and gets sidetracked, making jabs at Lo’ak’s ability to ride a direhorse or shoot an arrow. You finally lifted your head to laugh when he told you about Tuk cursing in front of Neytiri, courtesy of Lo’ak not being able to keep his mouth shut. Spider took the chance to pinch your cheek, earning a slap on the hand.  

“Oh and Neteyam was pissed at Lo’ak when he saw a scar on Tuk’s cheek” Your ears perk at the name, curious about the boy you rarely heard about. You had never met Neteyam, he had never come to the lab. 

He was older than you but younger than Spider, and you had only ever heard offhand comments about him. Neteyam, the next Olo’eyktan and the golden child that outshined Lo’ak, the perfect soldier and a mighty warrior. He’s everything the first son of Toruk Makto should be, born with his life laid out before him. 

You saw Lo’ak’s envy of him, how he slowly lost his desire to be like his brother, evident in the change from admiration to resentment when he spoke of him throughout the years.  

You were once desperate to meet the brother your friends often spoke of, but as years passed and his presence stayed a ghost, you resigned yourself to only knowing him through word of mouth. When you were young, Lo’ak and Spider would talk about how cool he was, how fun and great he was with a bow.  

Now, all you hear is how busy he is, how he just does his father's bidding and has abandoned spending time with his siblings for training. You take their word for it, how could you not? You’ve never met the boy and you can see the toll their strained relationship with their brother has taken on Kiri and Lo’ak.  

But there's two sides to every story, you know that all too well. 

“What does he look like?” the words slip out before you can have a second thought. Your voice is barely above a whisper, you hope that your foster brother didn’t hear you, but it’s crushed when you hear him hum.  

“He looks like Lo’ak, but more like his mom. Ummm yknow yellow eyes and his hair is braided back, so it doesn’t hang down in his face like Lo’ak and Kiri.” He looks up to the ceiling, trying to recall the boy’s appearance as best he could considering it’s not something he actively takes note of. “he’s pretty tall, but then again all Na’vi are compared to us” he chuckles, nudging your side. 

“Oh, and Lo’ak looks a little more human than him, his nose is flatter, and he has three fingers” he states, leaning against you. “uuuum yeah, he’s really stoic though, he doesn’t talk much and when he does, he’s so serious” 

It makes sense, you think, being the Olo’eyktans first son and having a brother like Lo’ak, it wouldn’t be easy to be laid back. You tilt your head at the weak description your brother provides, he was never a great storyteller, even with years of experience, recounting every detail of his day by your bedside at night. 

His words are interrupted by a yawn that escapes from his mouth, he continues on with his sentence, but you pat his shoulder, his words trail off. “It’s late Spider, you should get to bed” you whisper, a reassuring smile gracing your lips. 

He searches your eyes for a moment, you haven’t had much time together lately and he always feels guilty about leaving you alone in the lab for too long. After a moment he nods, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before leaping up and out of the room. 

- 

It’s been hours since the lab went quiet, the Sully kids long gone and your foster family asleep. Your eyes twitch, the lack of sleep weighing them down. You stare out the window, moonlight shining on your face. 

For all your life you stared out this window, the shining stars burning into your skin.  

You’ve memorized the stars, the patterns and the order, years of searing each star into your mind. You read about constellations when you were young, the ones visible from earth, it amazed you, the stories behind just a star. Every night you’d search the sky in hopes of finding a constellation, you found ones that were close but just not right. It upset you, you knew the story of Orion and Delphius like the back of your hand, you had drawn, and memorized Hercules and Perseus a thousand times so why could you not find them? 

It all came a head one night when you tried to leave the lab, convinced that the glass of your window and the limited view were the source of your inability to draw the lines in the stars above you. Max caught you as you were trying to reach for the handle to the decompression chamber, oxygen mask thrown on flimsily and still in your pjs.  

You whined about wanting to see the stars, insisting that the window was distorting them somehow, it took some prying, but he made the connection that you wanted to see constellations. You were upset to find out that those constellations aren’t visible from Pandora, but you were content, curious about what the skies of Pandora did hold. 

You started to make your own, disfigured shapes and hours mapping out the stars. Each one was a story, a life you created, a life you wanted. Norm and Max knew of your hobby, even wanting to hear the stories you came up with, but you refused. 

It was too personal.  

It was something for you and just you. 

You rest your head against the cold glass, eyes straining to the sky, avoiding the jungle that lay beyond the clearing. 

You hear the footsteps, the way he hesitates to intrude before opening the door. 

“Y/n...” His voice is modulated, quiet and clear. You don’t turn to look at him, keeping your eyes on the dots littering the sky. 

Carefully, he walks over, sitting on the edge of your bed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I was going to wait till morning to tell you but since you’re still up...” You move your eyes, looking at your foster father without making an effort to move your body, as if you’d crumble and break at any movement. 

He holds your gaze, unsure of where you are. 

“I’d like to show you something” He states, coaxing you out of your trance. Max stands in your doorway, making his presence known when Norm’s advances seemed to make no progress. You look down, fiddling with your fingers before leaning to Norm.  

He takes your hand and helps you up. “It’s a surprise” Max quips in a sing song way as Norm places his hand over your eyes. Internally, you roll your eyes, your lips curling into a smile as you chuckle. You let the two lead you out of your room, you try to make sense of where you’re going but you get lost at just a few turns in. 

You want to scold the two men, accuse them of purposely going slow when they come to a sudden stop. 

you keep your eyes closed for a second, even after Norm takes his hands away from your face. “It’s a little early” Max breaks the silence “but we thought you’d like to put it to use sooner rather than later” Your confusion from his words quickly disappears as you open your eyes, your sight landing on an amnio tank. 

You gasp as you take in the sight. An avatar floats in the tank, jerking and fidgeting. The face on the avatar was you. Your body, your face, molded into that of a Na’vi. You try to speak but your tongue falls short, mind racing and tripping over words. 

“Happy early 18th birthday” they say in unison, amused by your shock. 

“How” is all you manage to get out. A soft chuckle leaves the two men's lips. “Well, it took a long time, our tech isn’t as good as it was before the RDA left” Norm explained, patting you on the back. 

“But we managed, your indifference to anything but your computer helped keep it a secret” Max added, chuckling. 

Slowly you creep towards the tank, eyebrows furrowing as you take in the figure. It was surreal to see yourself like… that. 

It’s you but it’s not, it’s a mindless avatar that you can take over, it will be you. You tilt your head as you circle the tank, taking in every last detail of the avatar. Max and Norm watch you patiently, expectant of the shock you’re feeling. 

“Why?” You look up to them, you hand resting on the cool tank. They both walk over, Max standing on the other side of the tank, looking down at the avatar. “Well, you’ve been obsessed with Pandora practically your whole life” he says. 

Norm stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We also know how late you and Spider would stay up so he could tell you about the jungle and the Omaticaya” Max continues, Norm squeezing your shoulder. 

“We’ll get it ready tonight and tomorrow you can take it for a test drive huh?” Norms voice barely cuts through the tension in your head. You didn’t know what to say, yes or no? 

You’ve stared out your window your entire life, craving Pandora, reading and watching old logs over and over again to get a glimpse of what it might feel like. Now you’re presented with the opportunity, and you can’t bring yourself to say yes. 

You don’t trust yourself to not give up everything for the world that lies beyond the walls of your home. 

“I’m not 18 yet” you blurt out, coming up with any reason to refuse the gift. “Close enough” Norm shrugs. Max sends you a short smile “We’re sorry about freaking out earlier, you’ve been doing everything we said to recover, and it wasn’t fair to blow up on you like that” 

You stare at him silently, hands itching. God, you have everything you’ve ever wanted right here at your fingertips, you’ve been obedient your entire life, content with what you have. 

But now you have the chance to live. 

- 

Before Max can even finish his sentence, you’re throwing on the old avatar clothes they dug out and bounding out the door. The examination was grueling, the excitement and anxiety about to burst out your veins. 

You feel the sun on your skin, and you close your eyes, basking in the light. Your breath hitches as you feel a cool breeze graze your skin. Fresh air fills your lungs, crisp and energizing.  

“Now Y/n be care-“ Norm starts to warn you, but without a second thought you’re running through the field, jumping over railing and fallen logs. You can’t help the exhilaration that pumps through your blood, purging your mind of any previous anxiety or hesitation.  

As you land you stumble, tripping over yourself. your heals dig into the ground and you throw your arms out to balance yourself, a second tics by and a laugh escapes your lips. You throw your head up and stare into the sky. Your lips hurt from how hard you’re smiling. 

You look down at your feet digging into the ground, wiggling your toes into the soil. You whip your head around, smiling widely at Norm watching you from the door. You’re outside. Actually outside. Within seconds you're laughing, spinning around in an attempt to take in everything at once.  

It was the same field and forest you had watched everyday, but it’s so different up close, so real. It doesn't take long for you to grow dizzy and fall flat on your butt, tripping over your own feet and loosing balance. It’s without a doubt embarrassing, later you’ll thank Eywa that only Norm and Max were watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to care as your sink your fingers into the ground below you, threading your fingers through thin patches of grass. 

You bite your lip, giggling like a child with a lollipop as your swipe your hand across the ground, committing the course feeling of the dried up dirt to memory, how it sticks to your palms and how the path your hand took bears a faint mark. 

You cant imagine how stupid you look to Norm as he walks up to you, you’re literally playing in dirt, but the look on both your faces show no proof that either of you care. He ruffles your hair, reminding you of how messy and unkept it is, before he hands you a choker-mic and earpiece. “It’s just the first day so I don’t want you going far, you know how badly that could have gone for Jake” his comment draws a giggle from you, knowing the story of the great Toruk Makto from the perspective of the science guys by heart.  

“Check in every hour and keep an eye on your surroundings” He drones on with the safety speech he drilled into Spider as a kid, you listened but your attention is taken by the forest that lies just meters ahead of you, the edge just a glimpse of the world beyond.  

It’s captivating, every movement and sound draws your attention. It’s so much bigger than you ever could have imagined, the towering trees pushing a subtle sense of dread in your stomach. You could get lost, lose track of time, fall in love, so easily.  

You’re hypnotized by the sway of the leaves, the quiet movements and way the air shifts.  

Can you do this? 

You’re pulled out of your trance when he nudges your shoulder, you blink hard and look to him. “Were you even-? Whatever” he sighs “Just please don’t-” he hands you a knife “Don’t die, you’ll come back to your real body and it wont hurt you but it’s not a fun experience…” you take the knife, observing it. 

It’s a common hunting knife, the netting wrapped around the handle is worn, basic weaving patterns. You look up to him, tilting your head. He smiles and nods to the forest “Be safe kid, I want you home before eclipse.”  

You push yourself up and you take a moment to take in your sudden height difference. A smirk slips onto your lips and he rolls his eyes, biting your lip you turn to the forest. anxiously, you step forward, one foot in front of the other. 

Before you can think, your feet are speeding up, pushing you forward into the jungle you stared at for 17 years. You break through the edge and you’re surrounded by trees and green, the forest envelopes you, the earthy smell sinking into your skin.  

You slow down once you’re several meters past the edge, taking in everything around you. The leaves far above you sway in the wind, tiny critters crawl around on the trees and fallen over logs. The sound hypnotizes you, each noise and bustle piercing your ears. The forest envelopes you, every part of your being melting into the air, begging to become one.  

You’re smiling so hard, your lips feel like they’re going to split, the ache in your cheeks forgotten before you can even bring yourself to notice. 

You’re in the forest. 

You take a moment to breathe in the air, the damp smell of wood and moss, soil and plants sprawling across the floor and trees. Vines wrap around branches, hanging down, some of the flowers move as if they were breathing, the sway of the grass in sync. Chirps and clicks echo, your head swiveling trying to find the source.  

Your legs are moving unconsciously, your body in a trance. The feel of the ground beneath you is entrancing, the tickle of the grass on the bottoms of your feet, its disorienting how soft the soil is compared to the hard floors of your home. Except it didn’t feel like home anymore, it never did, this is what feels right. 

The smoothness of the giant leaves you run your hand over, the flowers sprouting from vines and plants, leaves of plants grazing your legs, it all leaves you breathless. Names run through your head as you observe the plants, their names popping into your head, the properties and uses. Its surreal to see them up close, in real life.  

I should take samples... You think to yourself but pack the idea to the back of your mind, another day perhaps.  

The forest is enchanting, taking all of your attention, you forget Norm’s advice and just wander through the green aimlessly. You don’t even realize how far you’ve gone, how long it’s been, the pair of eyes that's been trailing you for at least a mile.  

Neteyam doesn't understand you… you’re na’vi but wearing human clothes? Obviously, you must be an Avatar, but he’s met all the Avatar’s left on Pandora during the meeting with his father, and you’re careless, like a toddler who just learned to walk. Uncaring of where you are, where you’re going, clueless of your surroundings.  

He considered you could be a Skyperson, the ones who returned, but his father and the scientists doubted that the RDA would fund an Avatar program after their last mission. You’re also defenseless, wearing old clothes and no gun, no soldier, no sign that you’re here maliciously. You’re not a threat. He still keeps his bow ready despite his certainty that you’re harmless, in case you make an unsavory move or a different threat makes an appearance. 

He tilts his head as he watches you, you’re smiling and immersing yourself in the forest. The way you take it all in reminds him of his sister, but this is different. His sister has a natural connection, the forest being her home, you’re engulfed by it, if he hadn’t been keeping such an intent eye on you then you would have disappeared right before him.  

Something about the way you walked, the delicate placing of your feet, the careful posture you kept to be able to turn and see all of the forest at any moment, he couldn’t just let you wander off. It’s his job as future Olo’eyktan to be vigilant and mindful, your presence, even innocuous, wasn’t something that could be acquitted.  

So he followed you, tilting his ears to make sense of your whispers to yourself. He knows English, his entire family is fluent in it, but he still frowns when he recognizes you’re speaking it. He and his siblings will use it occasionally, but he often avoids it due to the distaste he feels about it, the association it has with skypeople leaving a bad taste in his mouth. 

He doesn’t contemn skypeople as much as his mother or other members of the clan, but he never goes out of his way to speak or associate with them.  

With a soft giggle, his entire attention locks onto your face. Your hand comes up to rest your fingers In front of your mouth as you smile at the bugs fluttering around a twirling plant after you tapped it.  

Yeah… like a toddler… 

He purses his lips to hold back the sigh that tries to escape his lips, how much longer must he watch you? The decision it up to him but he doesn’t know how to approach the situation. 

He tilts his head, shifting his weight on his feet. He’s about to leave, deciding you’re not going to cause a problem, when an atokirina’ floats in front of his. It bobs through the air, seemingly aimlessly, before slowly descending towards you. His eyes follow it intently heeding Eywa’s mind. 

The spirit drifts around you, catching your attention once it bobs around your head. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips when you notice the spirit, you take your hand off the tree it was resting on and cup it with your other, biting your lip as the atokirina’ floats down into the cusp of your hands. 

It tickles at your palm and fingertips, your smile grows wider, such a being coming to you and making contact brings you endless joy, even if you don’t know the full significance of it. Slowly you bend down to rest on your knees, keeping a slow pace to avoid disturbing the being. Once you're sat, you shift to rest on the side of your thigh, humming as you bring the spirit closer and observe it.  

He watches you for a moment, considering you before shifting to get down from his hiding spot. You gasp when he drops down from a branch from a tree opposite of you, you had the sense that you weren’t alone, but you attributed that to the bustling forest.  

Your eyes are locked onto the Na’vi boy several feet infront of you, mouth agape and body frozen. There’s a heavy silence between you, observing eachother, unsure of what to say. You decide to say something, he hasn’t killed you yet so thats a good sign, but he beats you too it. 

“Who are you.” He states, hs voice gruff and thick. You open your mouth, words jumbled in your throat before you blurt out “Y/n” his eyes are biting, pinning you to your spot. 

He doesn’t say anything, observing every part of you. “I’m from the labs, um with the science guys” you offer, he tilts his head, furrowing his brows. You panic, realizing that you could very well be taken as a RDA sky person “The ones who fought with you, loyal to the Na’vi” you add abruptly, hoping to withdraw any possible suspicions or misgivings.  

His expression remains unchanging, it makes you nervous, unsure of what to do or say. Before you can try and add anything, “Come” is all he says, nodding his head in the direction he turns to walk in. Realizing the woodsprite is long gone, having floated away during the interaction, you scramble up to follow him.  

He’s quick, knowing of where to go, experienced in the trek of the forest. You clamber after him, trying to keep up with his pace while avoiding any obstacles. Your efforts are unsuccessful, your foot tripping over a vine like branch that caught on your foot.  

You hiss at the sting of your palms that caught you, pushing yourself up on your elbows. You start to get up when the boy is in front of you, grabbing your hands and inspecting them. His expression is unreadable, but the way his eyes soften when he sees the minimal damage done to you makes a smile pull at your lips.  

He looks up to you, repositioning his hands to be holding onto your wrists, he stands up, pulling you up with him. “Must i carry you?” He asks lamely, annoyed at your unwieldy coordination. Quickly you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks from embarrassment. He nods and turns to continue his path, his hand loosely holding onto your wrist as you both continue foreward.  

You don’t know how long you walk for, letting the boys hold on you guide you as you study the forest you pass by. Before you know it, his pace is slowing and you peak over his figure to see the village. A pit grows in your stomach, you fiddle with your hands, wringing your fingers as you walk through the village, eyes following your every movement.  

You really don’t want to be here, no doubt much farther than what Norm and Max would have approved, but there wasn’t much you could do. You didn’t want to protest or run, overly aware of how easily the boy could overpower and kill you, but there was also the curiousity of the forest guiding you. 

The Na’vi know the forest better than you ever could, you’d no doubt be safer with a stranger than on your own, it’s a chance to see and explore the forest without worry of getting lost or running into danger. And now being in the village? It’s unexpected, but you can’t deny the ecitment that swirls with the anxiety in your chest. 

He walks up to a particular tent, you notice its larger than the others, not by much though. Na’vi start to surround you, curious about you and the boy, the whispers and eyes on you causing you to bite your lip nervously. The boy calls out to the tent, after a moment the flaps open and out walks a tall man adorned in intricate jewelry spreading across his shoulders and chest, a tall woman and an older woman stalking out after him.  

Their eyes fall on the boy, then you, the woman’s eyes narrow, tilting her chin up. The man just seems confused, looking to the boy for an explanation. They start speaking in the language, you understand some of it, but you’re not fluent. You pick up “Eywa’s sign” “Harmless” “daughter of the sky men” ect. You can interpret what they’re talking about, but you can’t understand specifically what is being said. 

The woman narrows her eyes, studying you. You resist squirming under her gaze until the man turns to you and speaks “So, you’re Y/n, Spider’s sister, right?” his English is clean, almost as if you were talking to one of the guys in the biolab and you mind makes the connection. 

This is Jake Sully 

Your eyes widen at the realization, but you keep yourself composed. Carefully you nod “Yes sir, they gave me this Avatar as an early birthday gift and I decided to look around the forest” you explain, you bite the inside of your cheek “I’ve never seen it before” you whisper weakly, averting your gaze to the floor.  

The woman, who you assume is Neytiri circles you, surveying your appearance and self. She stops next to you, brushing her fingertips against your loose hair. “You have never been outside of that tawtute vessel?” she muses, curiously watching your facial response.  

Your eyes dart to her, biting your lip you start to nod but the attention is drawn away when a familiar voice calls out. “Y/n?!” to your side, Spider, Lo’ak, and Kiri stand startled. Spider’s mouth twists into a grin before stepping foreward, he looks you up and down “So it was viable huh?” he asks amused, you tilt your head in confusion, you're about to say something before he continues “and they gave it to you early? And they didn’t even tell me” He feigns hurt, his amusement growing by the second. 

“Wait Spider you knew about this?” Lo’ak asks, stepping foreword and grabbing him by the shoulder, pointing at you. Your brother shrugs, explaining that it was an idea they told him about a few years ago but never confirmed. Kiri steps foreword, a smile growing on her lips. 

Her hands graze your cheeks as she observes every part of your face and body “This is amazing Y/n!” her eyes lock with yours “this is amazing” her smile bleeds into yours, a shy grin forming as she takes your hands in hers and laughs.  

“Yeah now you can actually hang out with us” Lo’ak roughly places his hand on your head, the height difference not as drastic as before but still there. You shyly tilt your head, biting your lip at the excitement of your friends and brother. 

The buzz seems to die when their eyes are drawn to the figure that steps closer behind you, out of your peripheral you see the older woman, the Tsahik, stare at them, communicating through their eyes before they take their hands off you and back up a few steps. A lump forms in your throat as you turn to fully face the towering woman. Her gaze is unwavering, strong, it makes you want to say something, anything. 

“What is your purpose, girl?” She questions, the weight of her words pulling down on your every limb. What does she mean? It’s such an intense yet vague question, her firm expression not giving any help to your attempts to decipher what’s the right thing to say.  

To live. 

You’re out of the lab, face to face with someone other than a person you’ve known literally your entire life. You’re not confined to those walls anymore, you can breathe the air, walk and run without concern, see and live among what you’ve been learning about your entire life, yearning for it. 

It wasn’t your intention when you stepped into the forest, and you’re sure it was Max and Norms either, but the opportunity is right in front of you. This is your choice, completely and entirely your choice. 

“To learn the ways of the forest” you say carefully “the ways of the people” you bite your lip as she slowly looks you up and down. She finally meets your eyes and you straighten your back, keeping her gaze locked with yours. You can’t explain the relief that washes over your chest when her eyes twitch, the slightest softness creeping into her expression. 

She glances to the boy then to Jake and Neytiri, again silently communicating with their eyes. After a moment she turns back to you. “I trust my grandson’s judgement” She states, your mind goes blank for a moment before she continues “both my grandchildren and the Great Mother see something in you, it would be foolish to reject you.” She turns to Jake and Neytiri again, looking to the people surrounding you all now. 

“She will be taught the ways of the people” She announces firmly, she locks eyes with Jake, then glances down to the boy who brought you here. Jake breathes in before stepping forward, placing a hand on the boys shoulder. “My son is to be Olo’eyktan, he must be able to lead and help the people” He looks to the boy, his son “It will be his job to guide her, a great way to gain experience and prove himself”  

Whispers move through the crowd, the way the boys lips purse makes your tail flick against your ankles unconsciously. You lock eyes with him, you want to curl into yourself at the way he looks at you. The intensity of his gaze hitches at your breath, reviving the weight pulling the strings of anxiety in your chest. You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders and a voice speaks right next to your ears. 

“You and Neteyam stuck together huh?” Lo’aks voice is riddled with amusement “This ought to be good” he cackles, your brother nudging your arm as he makes similar comments.  

The boy stands in front of you, eyes fixed on you, you swear you see the hardness of his gaze waver. 

Neteyam… he’s more than you ever thought he would be 

[presiding]

a doctor turned serial killer turned doctor again, an actor who paints, a gang leader, a mining baron, and a vice overseer walk into the room.

oh yeah and they lead karnaca now.

dishonored 2 is my fav game but i think it's mid, story-wise. here's why dh1 works and why dh2's overarching story sorta misses

tl;dr: story integration is critical for gameplay that offers audience payoff, but emily's personal arc from dishonor to honor is inconsistently demonstrated in the story, and is not an interactive part of the gameplay.

essay/long version under cut >

recap: what's dishonored's deal

[skip if you want] dh1 is an underdog story: corvo is an honorable man swept up in the machinations of a callous city, so his canonical ending being 'this child will rule over an empire' isn't about the child's rule but rather about corvo's reputation being restored in a more hopeful city, due to his & the player's rejection of the violent connotations of the tagline 'revenge solves everything.'

similarly, in dh1 DLCs, daud's story arc is that of an anti-hero: a dishonorable man who realises too late he has done irreparable harm. he sees the error of his ways after a single monumental death, and eventually a single life redeems him when he/the player stepped in to circumvent a terrible fate for a child, enabling her to rule unfettered.

daud & corvo come to a satisfying conclusion within the extent of their narrative arcs. it doesn't matter that a child on a throne isn't really a fix for a decaying empire - the player's actions throughout the city of dunwall was what mattered - and these stories could be framed as parables. in that sense, young emily as a ruler is a metaphor for a hopeful future for the city & empire.

dishonored 1 & its DLCs are also great examples of storytelling with perfectly integrated gameplay - you, the player, worked towards the outcome that redeemed the protagonists.

in your efforts to save young emily, you either achieved a good outcome (corvo) or prevented a worse outcome (daud).

bringing us to dh2 -

what's emily's arc

emily's arc is a coming of age: we're introduced to a reigning empress who questions her role & skillset ("am i the empress my mother wanted me to be?"), then her titular fall from grace occurs. from there, she learns to reject the violent, selfish connotations in 'take back whats yours' tagline (a la daud & corvo!) while rediscovering why her rule is critical to the empire.

emily's rule is no longer metaphorical, but:

a literal thing for audience assessment (is emily a good ruler?) AND

the crux of her storyline.

at the beginning of dh2, emily is introduced as a disengaged leader ("i wish i could just run away from all this;" "i dont know if whether i should sail to the opposite side of the world, or have everyone around me executed"). the antihero has a precedent for the dishonored series in daud, so it's not at first glance an issue*, however, the fact that emily has ruled poorly reframes corvo & daud's endings as being less than ideal (a moralistic retcon) *we could talk here about how ready an audience was in 2016 for a flawed women as a protagonist, hell, even in 2023,,,

throwback to the beginning of this essay when i said:

'this child will rule over an empire' isn't about the child's rule but rather about corvo's reputation

emily's story arc, unlike for daud & corvo, is literally about the quality of her rule. we're no longer in metaphor territory (ironic phrase): a parable-style ending doesn't work.

does emily become a good ruler

we know she becomes a good ruler because the game says so. it is narrated to the audience via a (literal) word of god in the space of 30 seconds, after the final boss. the outsider tells us that emily becomes known as Just & Clever.

drawing a distinction here - this narration is not the same as the player actively being involved.

the player does not throughout the game become aware that emily has made political allies. during the game, she doesn't talk to these characters about saving karnaca or being a better ruler to the empire (there's a few lines might imply it, but you need to be actively looking and being careful to wait for every voice line. it's a far cry from daud & corvo's fight to save emily being unmissable - even though daud doesn't know at the beginning that's the goal).

how does the game show it

you can coincidentally not kill most of your subjects and never be aware that emily is looking to restore karnaca by means of instating a council - it's never brought up. it *couldn't* be brought up, because that council serves under the fake duke (armando), who is the last person she speaks to before she leaves for dunwall. its her suggestion that he rules karnaca, but armando's condition is that he will rule as he sees fit.

to back up a bit, emily's canonical method of restoring karnaca is by banding together key allies - hypatia, stilton, [byrne &or paolo], pastor, under a council beneath the duke's body double. they are passionate people who would each individually make worthwhile advisors, but if you think about those characters sitting at a table trying to reach an agreement, it feels like an assortment of people that emily didn't kill along the way and doesn't feel organic (up to interpretation). it's not stated if emily herself banded this council together, but logically she must have (worth a mention these are mostly characters that you as the player had reasonable rationale to kill during a high chaos run, except pastor). the underlying concept may be that karnaca's power is returned to its people - which is interesting given that the monarchy remains and armando's decision is final.

this overarching solution could also be taken as a critique to dh1's 'put your kid on the throne,' which is another reason its worthwhile looking at how emily was shown to be a better leader. obviously my point isn't that her solution was bad given the circumstance, but i mean she has very little agency here in all. if emily was shown to be more controlling as a leader, this could be interpreted as character growth, but that's not the case.

coming of age

how do you learn & grow when you can't specify your failings? emily doesn't really touch on her shortcomings as an empress. she non-specifically worries delilah makes a better empress than her. it's hard to argue her worries are meaningful when someone good at their job will still worry when lives are in the balance.

emily's best 'aha' moments (eg. crack in the slab comment about gaining perspective) are consistently undercut by a conversation with sokolov or meagan afterwards in which she demonstrates she hasn't learned anything (before the grand palace, emily condemns 'toadies sucking up to me' and is reminded by meagan that she's part of the problem). the story is confused about what it's trying to say about emily's progress, and when she's meant to show progress, if she was meant to show any progress at all. it could be argued that emily was never even a bad ruler, she had just been fed misinformation about the problems in karnaca and been the victim of slander by her political enemies. the game doesn't make this clear - it's easier to argue that the opposite is true given that her allies only have criticism.

worth a mention here that the heart quotes about armando - a fake ruler - interestingly mirror emily's character concerns. "see how he sighs? his life is a gilded cage." but this essay is already long.

while corvo & daud spend their games (and through the gameplay) 'earning' their redemption, emily is being led by the NPCs around her to a conclusion and a fix for the political mess in karnaca: meagan & sokolov guide emily to her missions, and there's no recurring quest for emily to investigate possible allies. she is able to gather the people she hasn't killed to herself by manner of... post-game narration. during the game, she's primarily concerned with getting her throne back.

an easy fix: if there had been less dialogue & narrative focus on emily's failings perhaps the ending would have felt more satisfying. it has the feel of cut content, but i don't know what was cut to be able to comment on it.

so what went wrong?

i can't help but wonder if arkane were worried they would lose a certain demographic if corvo wasn't playable (may have been deemed too much of a risk - 2013 was a different time), and so they had to take out story elements that were unique to emily's growth as a character/empress, because the usual storyline/gameplay integration had to work for both characters - in other words, gameplay that made sense for both corvo & emily was prioritised before emily's story & character development. which is a silly problem to have in a game that added character voices for the sake of improving characterisation - maybe emily's tale would have felt more akin to a parable if she had less lines that betrayed her ignorance (to the disdain of those around her).

i wish more care had been taken with emily's story. most players will never really notice the large variety of different endings - they're not particularly satisfying in and of themselves.

it's ironic that one of Emily's complaints is about her father/protector being overbearing, when his (parallel universe) presence in the gameplay may be one of the reasons her own narrative arc falls flat.

what are the upsides here

changing tune from what didn't work - don't you think the concept is fantastic? it's a great idea overall - can you imagine if the coming of age storyline was better integrated into the game?

it's valuable to talk about the integration of story and gameplay and characterisation from a craft perspective. dh2 genuinely is my favourite game - it's beautiful, the imm-sim design philosophy makes the world a delight to explore, the combat gives endless creative options for tackling any fight, there is a far greater diversity of cast in an in-text canonical way. there's loads to love!

i love emily as a dodgy leader, to me it adds interesting dimensionality to the outsider's narrations - of course in dunwall there's never a neat happily ever after! emily, like the outsider, both work well as characters who hold ultimate power but aren't necessarily worthy of it - and this makes perfect sense for the dishonored universe's morality & critiques of power. however, within this grey area there's still plenty of room for a satisfying ending, which isn't what we ended up with, whatever the true reason for that was. and also, damn, emily's a marked assassin empress, if she can't lead well then who can?

while dh1 was criticised for its narrative simplicity, dh2 in contrast and in hindsight shows us that simplicity isn't so bad - there's satisfaction in gameplay achieves a clear, simple narrative goal.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Yurlungr - Day 46

Race: Snake

Alignment: Neutral-Chaos

June 3rd, 2024

You know what the term Pride Month has if you squish it together a bit? Demon! Hell yeah, it's time to get into a serpent with all the colors of the rainbow to please our gay overlords. Please welcome the snake, the myth, one of the most famous deities in Australian mythology, and an absolute favorite demon of mine, Yurlungur! Originating from Aboriginal mythology, a criminally underrepresented mythos in several series (SMT included, unfortunately,) Yurlungur is the primary deity depicted in several breakout tales from this relatively unknown set of stories, a winding copper snake known for bringing rainfall and life in tow.

Yurlungur, better known as the Rainbow Serpent, is an incredibly important entity in Australian mythology, being an archetypical 'Mother Nature' of sorts. As its origin story goes, it was the creator of the land and sea, and could bring great prosperity- however, if one were to bother it, that prosperity would come crashing down, as it was a force of nature in more ways than one. Interestingly, Yurlungur is only one epithet of several given to the Rainbow Serpent, as several other cultures in Australia at the time gave it different names in spite of having it as one, overarching force. For instance, the Galpu clan called it 'Witij', while a similar deity typically purported to be the Rainbow Serpent in Queensland is named 'Kanmare.' Several more names make up this ranking, but given that Yurlungur is the most widespread epithet, given by the Murngin, I'll keep referring to it as that. Just keep in mind that, in further research, many sources may call it different things, so give your thanks to the fact that there were so many Aboriginal cultures out there.

According to anthropologists, the snake is heavily associated with the concept of 'The Dreaming,' an incredibly important bag of worms in Australian mythology- the idea of The Dreaming, or Dreamtime, is a romantic worldview of times before our own wherein great heroes and monsters resided, where supernatural threats were vanquished by not gods but mortal men who were simply revered as legends. During this time, it's believed, the Rainbow Serpent was most active- it gave blessings to humanity and curses to those who dared to break the law of nature, being the ultimate protector of mankind above all. Even past the time of Everywhen, however, the Serpent still lives on; a beautiful concept related to it, in my opinion, is the idea that each rainbow is simply a trail left behind in the sky as it flies from area to area.

The most prominent myth about the Serpent... isn't really one I wanna touch, frankly, given that it makes me a bit squeamish, but oh well. As the tale goes, a pair of sisters, the Wawalag sisters, to be exact, travel the land in search of civilization, as one is pregnant. Then, the one who was pregnant ends up giving birth, whereafter the blood from the agonizing process ends up trailing into the Rainbow Serpent's watering hole. Likely perturbed, the snake ends up following the scent of blood to the sisters now taking shelter in a hut, invades in the dead of night, and eats them and the newborn they were now carrying. Satisfied with its revenge, it tries to head back home... and then is bitten by an ant, the act of which makes it throw up.

This action makes the regurgitated bodies of the three turn into Arnhem Land, a term for the northern section of Australia, wherein the Serpent speaks and tries to make right for its action by helping the people who move there. Yeah. I don't know either. I think this story is meant to be a metaphor for the creation of a family, but...??? Yeah, I don't know. Sue me. That (frankly bizarre) story aside, though, the Rainbow Serpent actually does stand as a favorite in terms of Mythology for me, and it's all down to the fact that it's so unique- and almost cute.

Nature deities are no small part of any tapestry or pantheon, but something about Yurlungur just tickles me. It may be its role as an embodiment of the rainbow itself, it may be just down to my love of snakes and rainbows, it may even just be down to the fact that Aboriginal folklore is underrepresented in so many faucets, but the Rainbow Serpent is a favorite deity of mine even in the star-studded halls of gods. It has a unique purpose as a creator god, a mother god, a nature god, the lord of the rain and weather, and being a snake, all the while having a cool sheen and an interesting look. I love Yurlungur to bits. All of that aside, though, how is it represented in SMT?

I love it. Full stop. Thanks for readi- no, no, I'm joking, but this design is easily in my top 10. Not only is it rainbow, not only is it adorable, but it's accurate and unique! It brings something entirely new to the table while still being a fantastic representation of the Rainbow Serpent itself, as the etching and patterns on it give it a vibe that makes it feel uniquely spiritual, in a way. It also makes the snake stand out among its peers. This is how you do a god-snake design, Quetzalcoatl! It's a perfect rainbow to start off Pride Month, and I hope you all enjoy this demon as much as I do.

Overall, while the mythology surrounding Yurlungur is a bit... strange? It has a beautiful design, represents an incredibly romantic ideal, and is definitely deserving of being the demon of the day.

[kmmachilles]

heres the list of my favourite shadowhunter couples from all the series (not including twp for obvious reasons) bc i cant sleep

TID: Gideon n Sophie. I KNOW KNOW EVERYONE LOOVES HERONGRAYSTAIRS I DO TOO THEYRE MY HEART ND SOUL but gideon n sophie man. cmon. theres sweet hurt sophie that thinks men like gideon r assholes bc of her former employers son and will, and gideon REINFORCES that by constantly talking in spanish while hes actually absolutely down BAD for sophie. she thinks shes not good enough for him, her being a mundane 'servant' and 'ugly' from her scarred face and him being the eldest son carrying the great shadowhunter lightwood name. and then hes just there ordering scones to his room just to see sophie, and ending up stashing them under the bed bc he doesn't even LIKE them. and pretty, smart sophie, although FURIOUS at first, goes 'so yea u dont like scones. what about SPONGE CAKES???????? THEYRE MY SPECIALTY' and then he falls so in love with her and proceeds to tell everyone hes marrying her before even proposing to her. i love them.

TLH: Alastair n Thomas. i love love love them not only their pair but them as separate characters too. esp bc the two didnt have the kind of shit the other ships had to deal with like james n cordelia were 'OH HE LOVES GRACE BUT I LOVE HIM / OH I LOVE GRACE BUT IM MARRIED TO CORDELIA / I SHOULD RUN AWAY W MATTHEW / fuck im in love with cordelia.' and lucie n jesse were like 'IM IN LOVE W A GHOST WHO'S THE SON OF A WOMAN WHO HATES MY FAMILY / shes only in love w me bc im a ghost and she likes writing stories so im one of her stories SHE DOESNT REALLY LOVE ME BUT I LOVE HER BUT IM A GHOST SO I CANT *REALLY* LOVE HER PROPERLY LIKE SHE DESERVES' and ari and anna were like 'OH I LOVE HER BUT I WANT KIDS SO I'LL MARRY CHARLES WHO, BTW, IS GAY :3 / OH I LOVE HER but im a stony heartbreaker women, lock your daughters and then yourselves im coming after you / oh my god i cant marry charles I LOVE YOU ANNA TAKE ME BAACK / ha! im stony heartbreaker.' and we all know the problem w matthew n cordelia, and alastair and charles AND grace and christopher (my heart stopped beating i swear to you). like i know Alastair and thomas definitely HAD to overcome some shit but Thomas KNEW he liked guys and alastair and alastair was pr sure about it too so when they got together, they GOT together ykwim??? no hanky panky. plus theres also the 'thomas-is-basically-michelangelos-david' so yea. no brainer. theyre my fav.

TMI: Alec and Magnus. okay so this is for both obvious reasons (fan favourite) and some other personal ones. Living where i do, i had no idea you could like the same gender as yourself or ltr anything about the LGBTQ+ community at all. These two were the first gay ship i had EVER read and they are what lead me to be as confident in my sexuality as i am right now. they introduced me to the concept of thinking beyond what i was told or shown by the people that surround me and look into the world the right way, without projecting judgement. i love them for that. theyre my comfort characters and the one of the biggest reasons i am who i am right now. also magnus is pr much why i adore glitter and i manage to put it on my face every other day ahaha

TDA: Diana n Gwynn. a very, very close second is Mark n Cristina n Keiran. but about Diana and Gwynn, they literally have my entire soul im not even kidding you. Gwyn is the first person Diana opens up to about her transition and its honestly so heartwarming that Gwyn, the leader of the Wild Hunt, known to be vicious and feared by faerie, is literally just there for her to lean on. He supports her and is so, so calm and soft with her it genuinely melts me. like, this man is basically the reaper of souls and he rides a magnificent steed into the night but hes so gentle with Diana. obviously my obsession w them is reinforced by the fact that the FIRST time Gwynn sees Diana he goes 'O' and is all like 'HELLO my fair lady beautiful one gorgeous strong lovely lady' and gives her an acorn like 'call me ;)' and diana my love just, THROWS the acorn to julian and emma and goes 'do w that whatever u will' and acts like she doesnt care and when they call on gwyn he comes to help nd immediately goes '...THAT WASNT FOR YOU but ig i'll help bc ur the magnificent lady's brats :/'

so yes thats it. now pls, whatever fucking ghost is haunting me with these thoughts, PLEASE LET ME SLEEP

[ashoss]

Hii!! This is waterunderthebridge12, I just stumbled across your art of The Robin Declaration and it made my entire week <3333. I love Duke so much and I'm so glad there are others who love him too!!! I would love if you dropped your Duke-centric fic recs, I've only read a few good ones (that aren't just him being an outsider) so any recs are appreciated!

oh my god! hii! im so glad u liked the silly little doodle lol i would love to do an actual drawing for either The Robin Generation or the Robin Declaration !! they were such fun reads and i absolutely adored the way you portrayed all of them <33

unfortunately i dont really have a lot of duke-centric fics but i have a couple!

WHEN EARTH FINDS STARS. by orpheusaki

duke & jason, pre-WAR and signal

15.8k words, 4 chapters (unfinished)

"Let it be known that I completely detest the implications of what this situation is mirroring," Red Hood grumbles to himself and it's the longest string of words Duke has heard from any so-called Gotham vigilante, let alone the one who's known for shooting more than he is talking. "The fuck?" Duke mutters, because if he's already going to die, he might as well try and make sense of it. "I'm not going to care about whatever sob story you have," is what Red Hood replies with instead of explaining, "Where are your parents?" "Gone," is all Duke says, because it's really none of this guy's business. It's also the truth. Somehow, Red Hood sounds even more anguished about this information than Duke is, "Ah shit." (Duke steals the tires off Red Hood's bike and somehow gains a family.)

YOU HEAR ITS SONG FROM THE MORNING BIRDS. (series) by orpheusaki

duke & bruce, duke & batfam

9k words, 3 words (unfinished)

A series of Duke Thomas centric works, mostly featuring his growing relationship with his new kind-of-dad-boss-friend, Bruce Wayne.

Keep Your Head, Your Backbone, and Your Heart by MrMich

duke & tim, alfred, bruce

54k words, 6 chapters

The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet.

A silent shadow flitted past him, just barely visible on the cave walls. He went rigid, tracking the shadow in the corner of his vision. And then he dropped to the floor, just in time, as a familiar black gloved fist passed overhead. He just barely missed being hit by the punishing blow that would have landed right on his temple for a sure concussion if he hadn’t dodged. “Batman?” Duke yelled. He somersaulted forward, just barely avoiding another strike. “B, what are you doing?!” “Who are you,” came the growled response. A shiver crawled down Duke’s spine at the grim hostility in Batman’s voice that promised violence, and something tightened in the back of his throat.

Family-- by incorrectbatfam

duke & batfam

3.3k words, 1 chapter

“Your assignment over the weekend is to write a poem about your family.”

Strange Bedfellows by snackbaskets

duke & steph & jason

2.7k words, 1 chapter

Little known fact about bats: they're AWFUL at sleeping alone. At least, the ones in the Manor seem to be, if the half-conscious kind-of-maybe siblings using Duke as a body pillow are any indication. When did he sign up for this?

Ghosts Of The Past by PlatitudinalTeen

duke & martha, thomas, duke & bruce

7.2k words, 1 chapter

Shortly after moving into Wayne manor, Duke discovers he can commune with the dead when his grandparents, Thomas and Martha Wayne begin to accidentally haunt him. ------- "No powers?" Duke repeated, even more confused as he tried to recall everything he had ever heard about Ghosts. "So, you can't possess anyone or make the lights flicker? What about telekinesis and all the other scary stuff from the books and movies?" "Those things can only be achieved by malicious spirits, dear," Martha told him. "We may be ghosts, but we aren't vengeful." They had made peace with their deaths, and even if they were still tied to the manor, it was exactly where they wanted to be. Thomas chuckled. "Yes, that's more of our son's department," he quipped, using his fingers to mimic Batman's ears. "Vengeance is a young man's game, really."

Starshine by zodarii_dae

duke & bruce, reverse robins

3.6k words, 1 chapter

Duke Thomas is a Gothamite, through and through. There’s not a lot he knows for certain, but he knows that the bagels are great, that Bruce Wayne is stupid rich, and that Batman will always protect him. That’s just how it is. So when Batman promises to bring him to his family, he believes him. Neither of them expected it to happen quite the way it did, but it all works out for the best. Or How Duke loses his parents, gains a new family, and becomes a vigilante- in that order, with some stuff in between.

necessary reminders by Quillium

duke & batfam

5.2k words, 1 chapter

Duke, as Signal becomes known and as Duke becomes part of the Wayne family.

*ao3 acc needed

hope you enjoy !!!

[lu-is-not-ok]

Stuck in Heaven (ego gift: Late-bloomer's Tattoo) has been grinding my gears for a while now. It has an idea - and a clear one at that - but i can't figure out what it *is*. Wiki has the event transcript. Pls send help

Alright, back to my proper analyses, and... *cracks knuckles* Oh this one's gonna be fun. I want to say that since this one won't need to get into E.G.O analysis, then this post will be a bit shorter than my other full-length analyses...

But. You know how it is with me. For all I know this one might end up ridiculously long anyway. Also, uh, spoilers for Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina ahead.

So, before we can talk about Stuck in Heaven, we need to talk about the other Abnormality it's directly related to - The Burrowing Heaven.

The Burrowing Heaven debuted in Lobotomy Corporation, but later made a return in Library of Ruina as one of the Abnormality Battles. For the sake of completion, I will be taking a look at both of its appearances in the series.

In its original appearance, Burrowing Heaven takes on the form of a tree-like entity, made up of a fleshy material, with branches that seperate into wing-like shapes and many eyes.

Its main mechanics in Lobotomy Corporation is that the Abnormality needs to be on-screen to prevent it from breaching and teleporting away once it does breach. This mechanic is reflected in a lot of flavor text about it, most directly in the description of its E.G.O Gear, which includes the sentence "Just contain it in your sight."

Burrowing Heaven's story further expands on this idea. The Abnormality is repeatedly said to "live inside your eyes/gaze", to feed on the attention and focus others give it by looking at it. However, the moment one looks away for too long, it begins to stretch the stalks of its wings for two reasons - one, to gather corpses as food for the fruit it bears; two, to reach towards the sky and sun, as if to cover it up.

Religious imagery and symbolism is used all over for this Abnormality. From the act of stretching its limbs being compared to praying to an old-forgotten god, to its wings reaching the skies being compared to an angel, to the action of it growing its thorns and burrowing being described as for the purpose of "reaching heaven inside one's vision".

Now, there's a very interesting part of Burrowing Heaven's story in LobCorp that I want to point out. Usually, when those stories are said in first person, it's either through the use of "we" (to reflect the company/employees writing those down as a whole), or with the passage being specified as either some testimony or log or otherwise being quoted.

However... That's not the case here. For Burrowing Heaven, there is a whole section in its story written in first person, with no clear note of it being quoted from something else. Allow me to paste the segment in its entirety.

"That's what a gaze is. Attention. An invisible string that connects us.  Sole focus.  Do not come here, as there is no place for you to rest.  But you see, I could only bear fruit when I stood inside your sight. Is this what you wanted to see?  When your tears dry up at last, tell me your answer."

Interesting, isn't it?

However, we're not done yet. There is still the context of its appearance in Library of Ruina, so let's look at that, shall we?

In Library of Ruina, Burrowing Heaven's Abno Battle is placed on the Floor of Religion, aka Hokma's Floor, alongside Price of Silence, Blue Star, and WhiteNight.

Narratively, this Library Floor explores the faith and dedication that Carmen's group put into her and Ayin, especially from Hokma's perspective, who unconditionally put his trust into Ayin back when he was known as Benjamin. Thus, all of the Abnormalities fought on this symbolically represent Carmen's unwavering dedication to gathering like-minded people to make her dream come true, and the devotion those who followed felt towards her and her goals.

When it comes to the Burrowing Heaven, there is some more info we can gather from its Abno Battle in this game, starting off with its new appearance:

As you can see, the previously tree-like form has been replaced with one that very clearly represent a human's central nervous system, brain and spinal cord included. The bloody wings and eyes still remain though.

...Now. Those who have played Lobotomy Corporation might recognize what Burrowing Heaven is meant to represent in this form. And for those who haven't, allow me to show you something.

This is what became of Carmen after her death:

A disembodied central nervous system, with its nerves spread out in an almost wing-like fashion.

While most of the flavor text here repeats what we know about the Abno from LobCorp, there are a few unique pieces of text I want to shine a spotlight on right here.

"The desire for the unreachable will only grow bigger. And to pursue it… is to tread a path riddled with thorns."

"Basking in everyone’s gaze and attention… It will finally come to fruition and spread its wings."

"The one who spread their wings sacrificed everything they had, and yet…"

"Just close your eyes. That’s right, you’re doing good…"

"If we ever open our eyes again, will we get to see the fruit of our labor in that gaze?"

...In case you were wondering why I was being so scant on the interpretation part of this analysis, this is why. This connection is what changes Burrowing Heaven from a nebulous concept to a direct parallel.

Burrowing Heaven, at its core, is a reflection of Carmen. More specifically, Carmen's dream, and the way she and her followers acted to reach her goals. How, to pursue it, they had to single-mindedly focus on that goal, to make many sacrifices for the sake of reaching what seemed unreachable.

It could also represent how Carmen's seeming demise and the following tragedies happened because nobody paid attention to the warning signs, nobody focused on Carmen when she was at her lowest. And yet, those very tragedies are what led to even more attention being put on making progress towards that goal, towards Carmen's wings spreading out and reaching ever closer towards the heaven she so desired.

The gaze being put on her may have put her deep underground, in the vat where her nervous system became a source of Cogito... but it also eventually led to the breathtaking sight that was the Light. And now that there is no more gaze left on her, her wings can spread everywhere, blocking out the sun with her own Light.

When you think about it, isn't that how Distortions take place under Carmen's influence? Just close your eyes and ignore the world around you. Let your desires guide you. Just like Carmen is encouraging you to do, patiently. That's right, you're doing good, following what she says.

...Okay that's all fine and good, but what the fuck does all this mean for Stuck in Heaven? Let's get to that.

From just a cursory look at its physical description, Stuck in Heaven appears to be the next step of progression in this Heaven line of Abnormalities. From the tree-like form of the LobCorp Burrowing Heaven, to the brainstem in Library of Ruina, to Stuck in Heaven taking the form of growths directly growing over a person.

Interestingly enough, the Mirror Dungeon event describes Stuck in Heaven as having "the appearance" of a branch, yet being human. Curious.

This is also where a difference is established between Stuck in Heaven and Burrowing Heaven, with the event text directly referencing the Abnormality that Stuck in Heaven is related to.

"Heaven sometimes burrows; other times, it makes a home in the heart. Once taken root, that heaven will only be visible through the eyes of others."

Immediately, this tells us one major thing - Stuck in Heaven does not burrow like Burrowing Heaven, it does not need to feed on the attention people give through vision. Rather, the thing it aims to take root in is the heart.

The text you get from taking the [Close your eyes.] option explains why Stuck in Heaven does that. When it takes root in one's heart, closing one's eyes is not enough to get it out of one's gaze, as the sight it sought out is that coming from the heart itself.

I believe this is also why actually trying to [Return the gaze.] with one's eyes does nothing. With Burrowing Heaven, which actively sought out one's eye vision, one can find many references to it being alive and actively watching its observer back. However, trying to do so with Stuck in Heaven results in it ignoring the observer. The heaven Stuck in Heaven is looking for is not in the eyes, but past them. "Behind me", as the text puts it.

Now... all of that might not have much meaning without further context. After all, what's all this looking with one's eyes and looking with one's heart stuff about?

And this. Is where we get to The Little Prince.

Yeah, remember how Demian seems to be representing the titular Little Prince himself, through him directly quoting the kid?

Yeah, that's not the only thing Limbus Company borrows from that book. In fact, from what I've gathered, The Little Prince might just be one of, if not the most important books when it comes to the themes Limbus Company is setting itself up to explore.

And the main theme that Limbus Company borrows from that book is the theme of seeing with the eyes vs seeing with the heart. It is all over this narrative. The constant focus on perception and what everyone is percieving through their senses. The equal focus on the heart, of how subjective reality is when looking at the reflections of one's heart, yet how one has to follow the heart to reach the unreachable. I mean, for fuck's sake, the word Limbus can refer to both a part of the eye and a part of the heart!

Most importantly, I think it's also the key to understanding Stuck in Heaven a bit better. In The Little Prince, a clear divide is established between the Little Prince, who uses his imagination to understand his reality, and "the grown-ups", who focus solely on the physical world.

Stuck in Heaven's E.G.O Gift is named Late-Bloomer's Tattoo. A late-bloomer is someone who takes a long time to develop one's skills or grow up. For Stuck in Heaven to be able to leave its mark (or Tattoo) on someone, to take root in their heart, one has to not be a grown-up yet, to still be able to see the world with one's heart rather than one's eyes.

So... What does it all mean?

I'll be honest, I don't fucking know! I don't even know if Stuck in Heaven even still has connections to Carmen the way Burrowing Heaven does!

What I can say however, is that Stuck in Heaven is likely extremely interconnected with the main plot and themes of Limbus Company, the same way Burrowing Heaven was for Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina.

Does it represent the goals of Limbus Company itself? Faust? The Golden Boughs? The fucking Mark of Cain?

The reality of it all is... we just aren't far enough along in the story yet to be sure. The way it connects to one of the bigger themes of Limbus Company, alongside it being directly related to the Abnormality that was so directly paralleling the end-game reveals about Carmen in LobCorp, means that we likely just don't have enough of the puzzle pieces yet to see the full picture of what Stuck in Heaven truly represents.

I'm sure as we head closer towards Limbus Company's endgame, the true meaning of Stuck in Heaven will become much, much clearer to us. But, until then, all we can do is wait and see what comes next. It's definitely a subject I'll want to revisit later on, once we get a better grasp on the overarching plot and will be able to start properly connecting the pieces.

Sorry that I couldn't give a more definite answer as to what Stuck in Heaven's exact meaning is, but from all the analysis I've done I genuinely think this is the best answer I can give. That it's a direct parallel to something within the main plot of Limbus Company that we have yet to learn, similarly to how Burrowing Heaven is a direct parallel to Carmen and the path taken to reach her goals.

[queenimmadolla]

CRUEL SUMMER - '85, PIII

summary: . . . the year Eddie Munson doesn’t give a fuck about not having graduated when he’s gotta save the girl so he can get the girl. (in which Eddie is in ST3 and reader is basically Heather Holloway) ┊ Eddie Munson x Flayed!Reader┊Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist - PI - PII

chapter summary . . . Eddie finally learns the circumstances surrounding your bizarre behavior and teams up with a ragtag group of kids to track you down and finally confront you. The only problem is you aren’t you because you’re suddenly committing grand theft auto and people around you are going missing.

chapter warnings: pining, billy hargrove (this fic is black reader friendly, I PROMISE), ‘unrequited’ love, angst, jealousy, mind control, nightmares, violence.

a/n: a very big thank you to my dear friend @kitmon for betaing this chapter! a literal angel ♡ and the detergent scene is inspired by this post, as I am a fan of LifeFire/Headdie/whatever the fuck eddie x heather's ship name would be and it was stupid fucking funny to imagine eddie seeing flayed heather do it. also didn't want to make Reader eat dirt.

word count: 8.4k

“No.” “What? What do you mean ‘no’?” Max demanded from her place in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

Eddie let out an incredulous, so-fucking-done-with-this laugh, void of any humor as he drove towards her home. They’d spent the entire car ride feeding him some utter bullshit story about weird paranormal shit going around Hawkins. Now, Eddie knew Hawkins was bizarre but he gave the credit for that to its rather conservative townsfolk. Not some preteen with mind powers and a gaggle of other kids trying to take on an alternate dimension and its monsters. He loved fantasy, so the moment they mentioned a Demogorgon, Eddie knew the whole thing was a lie. A Demogorgon was a monster that existed only within the confines of DND guidebooks and lore. Not in real life. “I mean whatever game of pretend you’re trying to play, I’m not playing.” He should have known better. Maybe they’d gotten mixed in all this when Billy had brought you over (thinking that alone caused his heart to ache) to his house and decided to have some fun with it.

“You don’t think it’s bizarre Chief Hopper suddenly has a new daughter after the death of his other one?”

“Sara.” El immediately leans forward from the back, frowning at Max’s lack of humanization for a sister she’d never get to know.

Max shot her an apologetic look before turning her attention back to Eddie who was sneering.

“You weren’t even around to see Hopper with his family, so no, I don’t think it’s bizarre! There’s a thing called adoption, you know. You adopted?” Eddie directed the question to El, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

She nodded.

“There you go!” Eddie sighed as he pulled up outside of the house they’d been directing him to, windshield wipers working aggressively to clear the constant stream of rainwater pelting down. “Look. I get it. It’s summer, you’re probably bored out of your fucking minds but what’s going on with Billy and—.”

God, he couldn’t even fucking say your name in the same sentence with him, it felt vile. Bad. What were you thinking? Why couldn’t he have just gotten to you sooner? He shouldn’t have canceled to make a few more bucks, if he hadn’t, you’d be with him. Not fucking Billy. Oh, god. No. He should have thought of another explicit word to use because his mind was racing with images that were making him sick to his stomach.

“It’s just adult stuff, okay?” He croaked out, throat thick with emotion. “It’s not whatever you think it is, you’ll understand when you get older.”

El opened her mouth to argue but Max hushed her, shaking her head as they once more exchanged a secretive look that Eddie could very much see since he had working eyeballs. 

“No,” El whispered in return as fragments of what she’d seen in her trances rushed to the forefront of her mind, the last being an image of you, soaked in an ice bath with red teary eyes as you begged her to help you. Then you’d been pulled away, dragged under by something wicked. That hadn’t been her imagination. Despite having seen you, seemingly fine in the flesh, something was amiss. Your eyes hadn’t looked the same as they did, had lacked life almost.

El directed her stare at Eddie with pleading eyes.

“You have to believe me, she needs help. She asked me herself.” 

Eddie frowned, exhausted with this whole back and forth. He’d been right freaking there and you’d asked her no such thing.

“When was this?”

“Last night. I can see things─”

Eddie groaned, yanking his door open. “Christ, I’ve had it. Out, everybody out.”

The girls scrambled out of the van and into the rain, staring up at Eddie while he pulled their bikes out from the back. “Enough! Enough with the magic powers, the lab, the visions and the monsters! This shit is not a game! If something wrong is going on with them, then I’ll find out on my own! I don’t have time for your little fables and I’m not a babysitter.”

Eddie was beyond frustrated. He’d wasted all this time with them when he could have been staking out your house to see what you were up to next. Instead, he’d foolishly trusted some 13 year olds and now he’d probably have to track you down.

He didn’t even know what the fuck he was going to do, obviously you weren’t going to talk to him now that you had your stupid ass ex-fling back and said ex-fling just wanted to rub it in his face that he’d gotten you because Eddie had been too little too fucking late, as per usual. Eddie just couldn’t let you settle for Hargrove, not after everything he’d put you through and how much you’d grown since Billy had discarded you. If you didn’t want Eddie, then that’d be fine. 

It really wouldn’t, because Eddie would be a total wreck and never forgive himself for missing out on you, let alone be able to get over you, but he’d rather experience that epic heartbreak over you choosing Patrick McKinney instead of Eddie. Or literally, anyone one other than Billy. 

Nevermind the strong sensation of danger that radiated out of the house while you’d been in it. Hell, Eddie had been reluctant to think it but the feeling also seemed to be coming from you as well as Billy. It was difficult for him to believe, he’d dubbed you Sunshine on impulse but it had immediately gained meaning as Eddie grew to know you. Regardless of how people tried to bring you down, tried to discourage you from what you wanted and where you wanted to be socially (he’d been one of those people at some point) you refused to settle, refused to give in and fall back into the crowd like your peers wanted you to. You were positive you’d shine one day. And one day, you did.  For Eddie, at least. He’d just been too stupid to see it—no. He’d seen it. He’d just always assumed you’d be there. Now, you weren’t. There had been no sort of sunshine present in your dining room. You hadn’t been you. 

“Just go home.” Eddie shooed them in the direction of the house, ready to go back to the trailer and collapse, though his brain was running a mile a minute to try and figure out what to do next.

As he’d been about to reach for his car door handle, it suddenly moved higher than his reach. And so did the door it was connected to. 

Because his fucking van was hovering a couple of feet in the fucking air.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide and the hairs on his body raising at the sight of the impossible.

His head whipped around to see El, hand out towards his van with blood dripping from one of her nostrils as a look of concentration morphed her docile features into something fierce.

He watched, stunned as she lowered his van, letting it go once it was just a couple of inches off the ground and it bounced on its tires. Eddie couldn’t even wince at the damage his rims were definitely feeling.

He was stupefied, gaze moving from the van to the young girls over and over again while his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

What. The. Fuck.

“Believe us, now?” Max asked, smug smirk on her face at Eddie’s astoundment. He could only nod stupidly, mouth on autopilot.

“Definitely fucked up my rims, so don’t do that again.” He whispered out, still mindfucked.

Eddie let himself fall against the side of his van, back pressed up against the wet metal as he ran a hand down his face and pushed the hair sticking there way, the rain wasn’t even a bother to him anymore.

His brain was spazzing out, sizzling like bacon as it tried to make sense of what he just witnessed. It just—It couldn’t! 

But it reminded him of the outlandish story they’d given him in the van. The government, the not so random deaths of Benny, Barb, the disappearance and reappearance of Will Byers and how Jonathan, Nancy and Steve’s weird little love triangle (used lightly, everyone could see Nancy and Jonathan would be ending up together) also was involved in the supernatural events. And The Monsters.

Eddie felt the blood drain from his face as he specifically recalled the one about Will Byers and how he’d been just about possessed by the Mindflayer, as the girls had dubbed it. A spy for its sinister intentions.

His stomach hurt.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie finally gave in, he still had no fucking clue what was going on and he really didn’t want to but there wasn’t anytime to waste trying to somehow argue his way into coming up with a reasonable explanation for all of this. It’s been obvious to him you weren’t in the most ideal of situations, despite giving him the cold shoulder, and he knew you were possibly in danger but know he knew El actually had real fucking powers and the stories they told him were true. You weren’t just in peril, you were in a life or death situation.

How he didn’t faint was unknown to him.

“What do we do?” The question escaped him in a rush as he started at Max and El, eyes wide with desperation. “We have to save her.” Max’s eyebrows furrowed as she stated the obvious and the desperation left Eddie just for a moment so he could glare at her. “I know that. How? Is it the Mindflayer?” “We didn’t kill it, just made sure it couldn’t come out,” El informed him, wiping the blood from her nose. “Look, I hate to put all of this on hold, but there’s not much we can do right now. We can recon tomorrow. Give me your phone number.” Eddie winced again, eyes darting around to make sure there was no one else around. God, why did this have to look so fucking bad? He yanked his car door open to dig around the floor of it for a piece of paper, shouting in victory when he’d found not only a receipt, but a really fucked up pen that still worked. He scribbled his phone number down and made sure to keep it snug in his palms to protect it from the rain as it was transferred to Max’s hold. “And don’t you dare think about leaving me out of any of your weird plans, I’ve seen those little looks you’ve been giving each other so I know you scheme. If it’s about her then I need to know. Deal?” “You’re not even offering us anything.” Max made a face as she shoved the receipt with his contact information into her pocket.

“Are most kids this annoying?” “Just go home and get some rest, Eddie. You look like hell,” she snorted out as she and El hurriedly guided the bikes up the driveway.  “I mean it! You better not leave me out of the loop!” He shouted after them before quickly jumping back into his van. “Go home and rest. Yeah, right.” He mumbled, fumbling momentarily with the keys before the van was sputtering to life. He yanked his seatbelt on and floored it, ring clad fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as he made his way back to your house. No fucking way was he going home, now. Not when the love of his fucking life was possibly possessed by some cthulhu fucker. Eddie didn’t even bother turning to music for comfort, nothing but you could offer that to him and you were currently busy, apparently. When he was just a little ways down the street, he turned his headlights off and slowed his speed. He’d do a quick driveby and then circle back to park a little ways from your house, scope it out to make sure Billy wasn’t hurting you. That feeling of dread returned when he drove by and saw your home, every single light off and seemingly vacant of life. It was your wide open front door that really worried him, though. Fuck the discreet attempt. Eddie swerved into your empty driveway and jumped out of the van, slamming the door shut as he surveyed for the car he’d failed to notice the last time he was present but Billy’s Camaro was nowhere in sight.  “Sunshine?” He called out as he slowly crossed the threshold of your home, shutting the door behind him. The house didn’t seem all that scary anymore, he had a feeling neither Billy nor you were here.` When you didn’t answer him and Billy didn’t spring around the corner to attack him, he made a beeline for your room. Didn’t even bother knocking, just burst right in but like the rest of the house, your room was empty.  Eddie’s shoulders sagged as he sighed, a hand wiping down his tired face, back leaning up against your bedroom door to shut it. The day and his newfound knowledge were finally catching up to him. He was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. And the stupid fucking weight on his chest wasn’t helping, Eddie was not a fan of melancholy or heartbreak, dealing with both the idea of the girl he loved being with someone else and being in mortal danger were not the obstacles he thought he’d have to face when he planned to confess his feelings.  Selfishly, he hadn’t thought he’d face any obstacles. Definitely fucking karma. Eddie should just pull himself together to go home and wait for Max and Eleven’s (he still couldn’t believe they had nicknamed her after a fucking number, the whole time he thought it was one of those preteen phases as Eddie had once tried to make himself known as The Munster. Terrible, he’s aware) call, just like he shouldn’t deal drugs. But he does. And he wasn't going home. He’s had a feeling, now that you and Billy were aware of your parents’ plans, Billy had taken you out somewhere. It was killing him to not know if you were doing something along the lines of Max and El’s memories or if you were doing something else with Billy. Were you completely out of it? Or were you aware of what you were doing? Did you really have feelings for Billy or were you being forced to stick around him? He needed answers and having to wait ‘til morning made him want to scream. So, he did. He collapsed onto your bed, body cushioned by your soft blankets and screamed into one of your pillows. He didn’t stop until it physically hurt his lungs to continue and only then did he shift around, kicking off his sneakers as he stared up at your ceiling, another thought (one he feared to even be thinking) plaguing his conscience. Could he lose you? And he didn’t mean to Billy.

People had apparently lost their lives when this Upside Down place was involved. And now you were mixed into it, would that mean you’d lose your life, too? Eddie frantically shook his head, trying to kick the thought out of it.  No. No, you did not get to die. You deserved so much more than what the world had dealt you and Eddie would move heaven and hell to make sure you got it. Whatever the fuck had a hold on you, he’d fucking rid you of it. And he was gonna tell you he loved you, too. If you didn’t love him, well then. Then, well. Yeah, he had no idea what he’d do but you’d still be alive so he could live with it. And if you did love him, then he’d spend the rest of his fucking life–your lives making sure you knew how important and loved you were. How much he loved you and wanted to make you happy. He’d do it every day. Tell you every day, if he could somehow keep from professing it multiple times a day (which he didn’t plan to). Wouldn’t be able to stop kissing you, either. GOD, how he wanted to kiss you. He’d had the urge sporadically throughout your friendship but it intensified around Christmas time last year and by the end of the school year, Eddie’s self control was hanging by a thread. He hadn’t kissed you then because he was too stupid to even think about acknowledging his feelings as well as yours. Then summer had punched him in the fucking face because all he wanted to do was kiss you stupid, hold you and just smother himself with your existence.  

Only he couldn’t. You were possessed and maybe dating your ex-whatever he was, while under the influence of something non-human (his brain hurt to make sense of it). How the fuck was he supposed to un-posses you? The only scenario he could think of was that of The Exorcist and while you hadn’t seemed yourself, your neck hadn’t been moving in ways it shouldn’t so an exorcism was probably out of the question. Eddie sighed, head nestled into your pillow before he realized it was your pillow, then he was pressing his face into again, albeit much more gentle, as he inhaled your scent, the ache in his heart immediately comforted by it. On impulse, he nuzzled further into it and for a moment, he was able to pretend it was your hair and you were with him, safe and curled into his side. Where you always should have been. He cracked an eye open with a sniffle to see one of your stuffed animals staring back at him. It was the one you’d immediately dove for, to hide, when you’d first invited him over and forgot it was still displayed on your bed. He’d teased you about it for only a moment before he’d made amends by having a one sided conversation in which he befriended it.  It was quickly pulled into his arms and Eddie was further comforted just knowing he was holding something you held and cared for. He hoped–full offense to the stuffed animal–he’d be taking its place in the future.

It was all too much for him, the tears slipped out before he could stop them. Eddie found himself muffling his sobs into your pillow. It was so unfair. So, so fucking undeserved. All you wanted was to be accepted, how could that fucking warrant all this bullshit? If Eddie could, he’d swap places with you in an instant. He’d do anything.

He cried so hard and so long, he eventually ended up tiring himself out. Eddie wasn’t even aware that he’d been slipping further away from consciousness, thoughts only focused on you, so much he even dreamed of you.

“You’re really not helping me out here, Sunshine,” Eddie commented with a smirk and a dry tone as he watched you get comfortable on his bed, stomach down and feet up in the air.

“You met her at one of your shows, Eddie. She knows you’re metal so literally every single piece of clothing you own is not only appropriate for your date, it also means you can’t go wrong. ‘Sides, you look great in all your clothes,” you said, rolling onto your back to peer up at him upside down.

“Now, you’re just flattering me.” But it had been the right thing to say, Eddie had already changed twice—eager to please—and just needed reassurance. You always made him feel better about being himself.

You were also making it harder and harder for him to deny his feelings. 

Maybe he shouldn’t anymore.

“Sunshine,” Eddie started, voice serious to even his own ears as he closed the distance between the two of you, squatting by the edge of the bed directly in front of you. You flipped over and sat up on your knees, hands clasped together in your lap with a hopeful gleam in your eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay, you can tell me anything,” you quirked and Eddie felt his heart squeeze, affections for you growing as each moment passed. 

He knew he could, you were always so easy to talk to. Still, something in him was scared, he didn’t want this to be another Chrissy situation. He didn’t hold anything against her, knew hurting people wasn’t in her nature but she’d still chosen Jason over him. It had stung, but he’d had you as a salve for the pain when he was finally ready to stop running from their end and stop seeking her out.

Who would he have if you got tired of him? Something about the ache he got at the mere thought of losing you told him it would hurt way more than any of his previous heartbreaks and that wasn’t something he was keen on experiencing. So, he chickened out. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“Of course, I know that. You tell me all the time,” you reminded him and Eddie just leaned forward to ruffle your hair, chuckling when you fought his hand away. He stood back up and went to grab his jacket from where he’d thrown it over one of his amps. He pointedly pretended he hadn’t seen disappointment flash over your face.

He’d make it up to you later, take you to buy a new cassette or something. God, what was he thinking? He’d almost ruined it all.

“I better get going or I’ll be late,” Eddie shrugged his jacket on, watching from the corner of his eye as you quickly pulled yourself together, pushing yourself off the bed.

It was only a little awkward as you both made your way out of the trailer. You walked over to retrieve your bike from where you always left it when you came over, unchained. No one really took stuff that didn’t belong to them around here.

Except for Eddie. 

“Well, I hope you have fun, Eddie. Just don’t trash her music taste if it differs from yours in the slightest like you always do and you’ll definitely get a second date.”

“What about you? Doing anything fun?”

“Oh, yeah. Babysitting some of the neighborhood kids. I think you and Lucas would get along. He’s a huge nerd, too.” You shot him a smirk over your shoulder as you walked your bike away, always too embarrassed to hobble onto it in front of him.

Eddie stood by the door of the van, the handle loosely in his grasp as he watched your retreating figure and felt the familiar feeling of longing settle into his belly. 

Fuck this.

“HEY!” He called out to you, already jogging the distance as you stopped to look back, eyes wide as you noticed the sudden change in him.

“What?”

“The thing is,” Eddie started, lips pursed as he debated over what he was about to confess. It would change everything and Eddie didn’t take to change very well. It was precisely why he’d ignored your feelings and his, hoping they’d simply go away, vanish into thin air someday. 

He didn’t want them to go away anymore. He wasn’t afraid of change. Because the change that would come to your relationship was the good kind. The kind that would allow him to hold your hand, kiss you, be close to you without feeling like he was pushing a boundary. 

“Are you okay?”

Eddie snapped out of it, focusing on your expression again. You looked concerned, of course you were worried about him. You were one of the few people who cared for him. 

He reached out, gently taking your soft hand in his, thumb stroking over your knuckles.

“The thing is . . . I love you. I love you, so much and I’ve been too chicken shit to say anything because you’re also my best fucking friend, Sunshine. I didn’t want to lose that. But if I didn’t say anything, I’d be losing the chance for more. I want everything with you, I want to be your boyfriend,” he confessed, giving your hand a squeeze as he watched you with bated breath.

You stared down at your hands for a moment.

Then you laughed.

You laughed cold and cruel and hard, before yanking your hand out of his grasp. 

“You think I’d want you? After all this time?”

The pain in his chest was immediate, he could feel the blood drain from his face. Then Billy Hargrove walked around the corner of a neighboring trailer, hands in his pockets with the most smug of smirks on his stupid fucking face. The fuck was he doing here?

“Why the hell would she want you, Freakazoid? She’s my girl, always has been.” Eddie watched as he walked right up to you, slipping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned into his embrace like you were used to it, your own arms slipping around his waist. Eddie felt physically ill.

He could also feel his heart cracking, chipping and shattering into millions of pieces as he stared hopelessly at you and Billy. It got worse.

Billy leaned down, mouth devouring yours in a messy kiss that you returned with fervor and Eddie felt like he was dying, could feel the hot tears of anger, heartache, frustration and betrayal—he didn’t really have a right to feel—already running down his cheeks.

He wiped furiously at them but they just kept coming. When you and BIlly finally pulled away, it was only to laugh at him.

Then it wasn’t just you and Billy. Suddenly, he was in the cafeteria of the high school, and everyone was crowded around, laughing at him, having an absolute fit of a good time at his expense. 

Eddie couldn’t breathe, wet gaze and red eyes darting around to take in all the cruel faces around him before landing on yours again, begging with them. 

This time, there was no cruelty on your face. It was void of any emotion before you turned your back to him and made your way into the crowd solo, Billy was no longer present. 

Eddie made a desperate attempt to follow you, trying to force and bully his way through the crowd, watching the back of your head disappear into it as he screamed your name, begging you to come back to him as the crowd got louder and rowdier. You were gone. He was left alone.

Eddie’s eyes snapped open as he gasped for breaths and jolted up, chest heaving and filled with momentary panic before he realized he’d experienced a nightmare. Or something close to it.

It wasn’t real. Thank fucking hell.

The nightmare had started off as a memory. You had been at his trailer, hanging out with him before one of his dates but he hadn’t stopped you when you left on your bike. Eddie had only watched you. Then he got in his van and went to pick up the girl he had asked out. 

He fell back into soft pillows, relaxing for just a moment before he realized the pillows were too soft and fluffy to be his, as was the mattress under his body. A quick look around his surroundings reminded him he was in your bedroom. 

He was also reminded of the horrifying circumstances regarding why he was in your bedroom and you weren’t.

Shit.

Reluctantly, Eddie got out of your bed, quickly gathering his things. Max would probably call soon and he had to be at the trailer to answer. He practically ran down your stairs, stopped, ran back up them to snag the stuffed animal he’d cuddled the night before. He’d need a little bit of you to keep him sane.

As he locked and closed your front door behind him, he just so happened to glance at your next door neighbor’s house, head doing a double take when he noticed their front door was also open.

Eddie did a quick glance around before he made his way over to investigate, brows furrowing when he noticed the door jam was broken. 

“Hello?” He called out, pushing the door open further. The entrance was a wreck, a small table with flowers had been knocked over along with a coat rack, which had a large section of it broken off. The broken piece was only a little ways away. The home had obviously been broken into and some sort of struggle had taken place.

Eddie had a feeling both you and Billy had been involved. Just as he turned to leave, a picture had been knocked to the floor caught his eye.

Of fucking course your neighbor had to be the goddamn Mayor.

He ran back to his van in record time, quickly peeling out of the area as he weighed his options. He couldn’t call the cops, not only because he was probably still on their radar, there was no way they wouldn’t try to blame him for it. Then, he’d get locked up and saving you wouldn’t be impossible from behind bars.

Besides, they were pretty much useless. He’d have to tell Red and El.

Eddie made it into his trailer just in time to answer the phone before it could finish its first ring. He nearly broke his ankles flinging himself at it, wincing as his shoulder collided roughly with the wall.

“‘Lo?” He croaked out, mouthing ‘ow’ as he rubbed the sore spot.

“It’s me.”

Red—Max, whatever.

“What’s up?” He demanded, shoulder pain immediately forgotten.

“Your girlfriend, you know her schedule right?”

“She’s not my—yeah. Yeah, I know her schedule. Why?” It didn’t matter all that much to correct her, right?

“Does she work today?”

“No. WAIT. Yes, she’s covering for her co-worker Heather. I don’t know what shift, though,” If you bothered showing up this time, anyways. “Why?” 

“Meet us at the pool then.”

“WHY?” Eddie demanded again, wincing once more when he remembered Wayne should be asleep on his bed. A quick glance into the living room confirmed his old man was still asleep. Thank god that man could sleep through the apocalypse.

“Why?” Eddie muttered into the receiver, voice much lower this time.

“We’re gonna see if she’s a spy.” 

“Were you not in the same house as me, yesterday? I wouldn’t call that atmosphere pleasant.”

“I wouldn’t call any atmosphere Billy is in ‘pleasant’.”

“Alright, you got me there. But I went over again and—hello?” Eddie was met with the sound of the dial tone. He rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath as he placed the phone back on the receiver. Kids were such assholes.

He took a quick shower, probably less than five minutes, and freshened up just so he wouldn’t smell in case he ended up in close quarters with you.

When he got to the pool, he was momentarily concerned he wouldn’t be able to find them. Then he caught sight of Red and El, crouched in the parking lot in front of a nearby car. They weren’t alone.

“Oh great, you brought the rest of the little rascals,” Eddie sighed as he walked over.

“Shut up.”

“I’m Lucas.”

“Will.” Eddie had seen him on a couple of ‘Missing’ flyers, had been handed one when Jonathan was passing them around during all of his breaks and lunch.

“Mike.” He was prompted when El shoved her elbow into his rib.

“Eddie,” He introduced himself, giving them all a nod before his attention was on Red. “What are we doing here?”

“I already told you,” Max sighed, ready to elaborate once more.

“Yes, I know that. I mean why are we hiding in the parking lot?”

“Plotting,” Max stated, glancing back at where Billy lounged on the lifeguard tower. Eddie followed her stare and frowned. If Billy was on duty, then they’d most likely missed you.

You appeared on the other side of Billy, still clad in your swimsuit with a towel over your arm as you conversed.

Eddie perked up immediately and so did the sense of longing in his belly. 

“What were you saying?” Lucas asked Will, referring to whatever it was they were talking about before Eddie interrupted with his arrival. 

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off you, too afraid you’d disappear like you did in his dream but he was listening intently to the conversation.

“The Mind Flayer liked to hide. He only used me when he needed me.” There was that unsettling feeling again. Eddie did not like that, not one bit. “It’s like you’re a doormat. And then, when he needs you, you’re activated.”

You didn’t look like you could harm a fly, sunglasses over your face as you appeared to argue with Billy, who didn’t so much as look down at you, gesturing to a kid in the water he’d most likely called a name.

You told him Billy did that a lot and it bothered you significantly.

“Okay, so we just wait until they get activated,” Max decided.

“No,” Mike shook his head, “What if they hurt someone?”

“Or kill someone.” Lucas added.

“They already broke into the Mayor’s house,” Eddie informed them, grimly. He was trying to wrap his head around the idea of the cute lifeguard, who held his heart in the soft palms of her hands, breaking into a home and abducting someone.

“What?!”

“I went by again yesterday.” Eddie threw Max a glare as he recalled what he had attempted to tell her over the phone before she hung up on him. “And when I left this morning—don’t ask—I noticed her neighbor’s door looked kicked in. The inside was wrecked and a lovely little photo of that asshole and his wife was on the ground.”

“That’s not the Mayor’s house,” Lucas corrected him, “It’s his mistress’ house. The Mayor lives in some fancy schmancy part of town with his wife but he’s been seeing my mom’s hair stylist and that’s where she lives. I hear my mom talking about it to her friends all the time.”

“Then they got a rude interruption last night.”

“We’re not taking any more chances,” Mike declared. “We need to find out if they’re hosts to it.”

Mike, Lucas and Will ran to the boys locker rooms to check something but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to go with them, choosing to wait with Max and El so he could keep an eye on you. The boys came back within minutes and had developed a plan to capture Billy. Which just left you.

Mike had come up with the idea to lock you in the sauna with Billy but Eddie vehemently rejected the idea. He was not about to lock you anywhere with Billy, especially since he was a little more reassured of your dislike of him. While you two had been playing house the evening before, it looked like you were back to being annoyed with him today. What the hell was up with that?

Eddie noticed you walking away and stiffend. Was The Mindflayer calling you away?

“She’s leaving,” he pointed out, a desperate edge to his voice.

“Oh, shit. We can’t let her out of our sight!” 

“I won’t,” Eddie stated as they crouched low to hide behind the car when you came out. He’d been expecting you to walk over to the bike racks but you made your way to the parking lot instead, hopping into the first car you saw. You dipped a little below the steering wheel before the car came to life and you drove out of the parking lot.

“Should we follow her car?”

“She doesn’t have a car,” was all Eddie stated before he bolted over to the van. Before he could peel out after you, Lucas’s face popped into view of the window and Eddie hastily lowered it in time for the preteen to shove a giant fucking walkie talkie through it. 

“Use this to keep in contact and be careful!”

“Thanks, kid.”

Eddie didn’t wait any longer, speeding out of the parking lot to make sure he didn’t lose you. 

His heart was racing, palms sweaty and gripping the steering wheel as he followed the car you stole. When you pulled into the grocery store, he parked further from you, just to make sure you weren’t on to him.

You got out of the car and Eddie realized you were still in your red swimsuit and white sneakers, with no bag or car keys. You glanced around you and Eddie quickly ducked down into the seat cursing as he waited a few moments before peaking over at your retreating figure. There was no telling whether you saw him or not, you were still wearing your sunglasses but if you had seen him, his presence didn’t bother you enough to stop you.

Eddie pulled out the TRC, fumbling with it until he managed to get it operating, “Eddie to Little Rascals. Come in, Little Rascals.”

There was nothing for a few moments, then static.

“Eddie?” It was Lucas.

“Yeah, it’s me. I followed her to Bradley’s Big Buy.”

“What’s she doing there?”

“Buying groceries? I don’t know! But I’m gonna find out. I’ll check in soon.” Eddie didn’t bother asking how their plan with Billy was going, they couldn’t exactly trap him in broad daylight with witnesses, nor did he even care about what happened to the mondo-douche. Not after he got you involved in this fucked up mess.

He did his best to maintain a sense of casualty when he got into the store, giving a forced smile to some lady who was staring at him for obvious reasons: his attire and general appearance. “Hey, how you doin’?”

Eddie speedwalked, checking each aisle for you. He almost feared he’d lost you, maybe you’d already left the store, until he reached the laundry detergent aisle.

There you were and for a moment, he forgot about the current situation, eyes raking over your figure with deep appreciation. Wow. Just—wow.

Then you grabbed a detergent off the shelf, uncapped it and began chugging the liquid down, effectively snapping him out of his horny thoughts.

Eddie could only stare, eyes wide and mouth open, dumbfounded. 

You lowered the nearly empty jug, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before you noticed his presence, turning your head to him.

“Hi, Eddie.” You greeted him as though nothing was wrong, like you didn’t just down an entire jug of chemicals.

“Uh, hey, Sunshine.” Was all he could force out because he didn’t know if he was interacting with you or The Mindflayer. Did it even allow you to be you? Fuck, it was confusing. Did he mention how fucked up this whole thing was?

“I’d go with the lemon scented, lavender’s pretty shit.” Then you capped the jug and put it back on the shelf before walking off. Eddie took a few moments to regain his composure, trying not to have a panic attack about what drinking that shit could do to you before he was stumbling after you but he was too late.

You weren’t in the store anymore and Eddie cursed as he made a break for the front doors, running out of them just as the car you were in—an entirely new one from the one you stole at the pool—screeched by.

FUCK.

“FUCK!” Eddie gripped the roots of his hair in frustration, paying no mind to the weird looks he was getting.

You’d gotten out of there fast, there was no way you weren’t on to him following you around now. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He ran back to the van, yanking the door open and rooting around until he pulled up the walkie talkie.

“Preteens, we have a problem. I repeat, we have a colossal problem.”

This time it was Max who responded, “What is it, Eddie?”

“She knows.”

Eddie heard a bunch of them trying to talk as Max held down the button before she told them to be quiet, “What does she know? What happened?”

“I was following her inside and I caught—well, I mean it was out in the open but not a whole lot of people were around—anyways, I caught her drinking laundry detergent and I was so damn shocked, she had time to make it out. She must have been bolting in the parking lot because by the time I made it out behind her, she was already driving off!” Eddie rambled, still shook up by the whole ordeal.

“She was drinking detergent?”

“Messed up, right? She took off in a different car this time and I don’t know how she’s doing it unless The Mindflayer gives his little puppets a crash course on hotwiring.” But even that took a few moments, you’d gotten out of there way too quick if that was the case.

“You have to find her, Eddie!”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna search around town. Be careful on your end.” The TRC was tossed onto the passenger seat as Eddie started up the van. 

He drove through the streets of Hawkins looking for any sign of you and while he didn’t find you, he found elements of your presence in the form of a few homes which looked broken into. He wasn’t entirely sure if you’d done it since Bradley’s or if they had been homes you and Billy had hit the night prior.

You made your way through the crowded mall, easily weaving between bodies as you approached the girls hanging out by the fountain. You’d since changed your lifeguard attire, He needed you to blend in for the next part of his plan.

“Well, well. Look who’s out of the house,” Beverly commented, hot pink lips pursed into an ignorant smirk. The rest of her lackeys giggled as if she said something remotely insulting.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Beverly. I am—indeed—at the fucking mall and not my house,” you stated, face void of any amusement. Fix it, He commanded and your face broke out into a smile just as Beverley’s contorted in shock at your brazen reply.

“Anywho, girls, Billy sent me.” You waited for them to show signs of interest, He was pleased when they did; sitting up straighter, leaning forward to hear what you had to say. “He’s throwing a warehouse party tonight. Interested?”

Eddie was camped out in front of your house, sunk just low enough in the seat to see over the edge of the dashboard as he waited for you to come home. He had no luck perusing the town, so his best bet was to wait for you to come to him.

The stuffed animal was clutched to his chest again, mind entirely filled with nothing but thoughts and concern about you when you finally pulled up to your home in another car, having ditched the other.

He knew it probably wasn’t wise, but he needed to confront you, he had to find out what was going on with you.

The moment you were out of your car, Eddie was out of the van and calling out to you.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him with a bleak expression, “Yes?”

He had no idea what to fucking say, so he went with, “Where have you been?”

“Around.”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, ache in his chest only growing, “Sweetheart, please. Please talk to me. What’s going on? You’re avoiding me, hanging around Billy again and not acting like yourself. Did I do something? If I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie saw you fidget, brows furrowing as something akin to sadness appeared to pass over you.

“You didn’t do anything, Eddie,” He let you tell him. “Go away.”

You turned to walk up your driveway but Eddie was desperate, he reached forward to grasp your wrist and you whirled around, expression dark as your body tensed.

“I said. . . Go. Away.” It was hissed out between your clenched teeth with so much venom, Eddie almost backed down. Almost. The impending doom feeling returned, filling the warm night air with dread.

He clenched his jaw, preparing for you to attack him at that point but he’d take whatever you gave him. He could handle it, even if he had to wrestle you into submission. 

“No.”

Just as it looked like you were about to make a move, something odd happened.

You froze, eyes looking both at him and beyond him. The skin of your wrist under Eddie’s palm began to move in a way that was not at all normal or even remotely human. He stared in horror as your veins appeared to bulge and crawl up your arm, following them up to your face where the veins around your eye sockets—not normally seen to the human eye—were very apparent, bulging and dark. 

Your eyes were nearly pitch black.

With ease, you flung the arm Eddie had a hold of, sending him flying in the air before crashing onto the lawn on the other side of the street. 

He gasped, trying to get the air that had escaped his lungs on impact to return to him and was still gasping when he managed to roll onto his side, eyes darting around until they caught sight of you running towards a telephone poll with an electricity distribution box on it.  

Eddie watched, chest heaving as you tore the cover off, before flinging it at an alarming speed towards the telephone wires, one of the jagged ends catching along and snapping a wire from its place as its sparks rained down around you.

It was only then Eddie noticed the puddle of water, left over from last night’s storm, you stood in.

“NO!” He managed to yell, voice hoarse as he tried to warn you, gritting his teeth while he pushed his sore body up from the ground. He watched the wire dance around the street, sparks flying from the end. 

He’d just managed to get to his feet, ignoring the pain in his sides as he ran towards you.

Before Eddie could reach you, the wire end dipped into the puddle and he was sure his heart stopped.

Only, you weren’t electrocuted as you should have been. You weren’t affected at all.

Eddie’s running slowed to a stop as you reached down, grabbed the thick wire and raised it to your mouth.

“No fucking way.” He whispered into the air, mouth dry.

You bit into it and Eddie swore he saw your body illuminate, literally glow from within like a finger would if held against the lens of a flashlight, before the lights of the homes around him flickered, as did the street lights. Suddenly, telephone pole glass insulators burst on every pole as far as his eyes could see and the bulbs of every street light shattered. The homes went black, leaving your street and probably the next couple of blocks swallowed in darkness. 

Eddie could barely make out your figure fleeing under the cover of a total blackout, sprinting further and further away until he could no longer see you at all.

He stood in the middle of the street for quite some time before he painstakingly made his way back to the van.

The drive back to the community pool was filled with silence, his headlights the only source of light.

When Eddie pulled up to the pool it was obvious the area had been affected by the power outage but not too bad, a couple of lights flickering and the ones that weren’t were dim. The kids were all seated on the sidewalk, looking as defeated as he felt.

“We lost Billy. He’s flayed,” Max stated, sounding disheartened as Eddie sat next to her, grimacing at the shock of pain flaring through his side.

“So is she.” Saying it out loud made his eyes burn with the sting of tears, fists clenched as they rested over his knees. It was one thing to fear you were possibly under the control of that thing, he felt a whole new sense of terror knowing, without a doubt, you were. 

He explained what had happened on his end, how you possessed almost superhuman strength and managed to drain a large region of the town of its electricity, which also explained how you were easily able to start all those cars you’d stolen. The kids deflated further as they realized exactly what they were up against this time around. 

“What are you going to do, now?” Max asked quietly, fully expecting him to run for the hills. It’s what any sane person would do. 

Max didn’t know Eddie wasn’t sane. And if it hadn’t been you in this situation, he would have run, wouldn’t have even been mixed into this whack ass situation.

But it was you and Eddie was done running from you. It was high time he ran towards you.

“I’m gonna save her. Or—y’know, die trying, I guess.”

“The girl,” you asked, grabbing the rag at your side. “Was it her?”

“Yeah. It was her. She knows now. She knows about me.” Before you could press it to the cut actively bleeding on Billy’s forehead, his hand darted out to grip your arm. “Will Munson be a problem?”

“No,” Brief flashes of warm, pretty brown kind eyes, a smirk, a wide grin, and brown curls managed to slip past His control before they were snuffed out, the ashes left to sink into the the grips of the Upside Down, along with your freewill.

Billy’s grip on your arm loosened and despite his bruising hold, there were no marks left behind on your skin. You were one in the same.

“She could have killed me,” he continued, and you felt what he feared. The failure of your plan. Of His plan.

“Yes.” Billy would be no match for the girl with superhuman abilities. Even with the gift He bestowed you, you may be no match for her. “But not us.”

You turned your head, both you and Billy taking in the sight of your growing numbers, various members of the community now a part of your legion, a part of Him. Soon, you would all join Him as one.

“Not us.”

And He watched you, from the eyes of the creature left behind in the world he’d been cast out of. 

In his domain, the realm of the Upside Down, the being, the nightmare who would soon be known began his preparations.