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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: [email protected] To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All —

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule.

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off.

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.)

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you.

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit.

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms.

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty.

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts.

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words.

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment]

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested.

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media.

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.”

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know,

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.”

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.”

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming.

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything.

Late in the afternoon, you get another text.

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense.

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out?

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world.

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity.

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living.

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days.

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home?

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too.

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :)

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM.

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her.

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend.

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words.

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be.

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her.

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you.

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table.

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day.

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her.

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.”

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy.

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.”

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress.

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could.

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.”

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?”

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation.

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?”

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him.

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?”

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks.

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together.

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers.

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend.

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.”

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion.

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk).

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned.

“Never better.”

“Do you have a ride home?”

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say.

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking.

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge.

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.)

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly.

“Let me take you home.”

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.”

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early.

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].”

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever.

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car.

No.

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up.

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!”

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!”

“Then why were your hands all over me?”

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet.

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint.

He blinks. “What?”

“What?” You repeat back, innocently.

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup.

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.”

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks.

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway.

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back.

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces.

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?”

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps.

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets.

“Do you really want me to stay?”

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

#yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #isagi x reader #one shot #fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #smau #series: if you feel like falling

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musings-of-a-rose · 3 days

Text

Camping Trip

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader (nickname Autumn)

Word Count: 3400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Listen. I don’t know. I just saw the picture in the upper right of my moodboard and came up with this. Ok fine I wrote the first 3 paragraphs in May and the rest now. Will and I are complicated, ok? Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for reading and listening to my ramblings as always!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

It had been a rough few months, no doubt about that. Somehow, I survived. Made it to the solo camping trip I had been thinking about for months. It's nothing I haven't done before. Even the trails and campsite are familiar. Still, it had been a few years and I was itching to get away from the city and all the noises it pounds into my head.

I head down the backroads, the pine trees growing thicker the further out I get from the city. At first I pass a lot of cars, mostly traveling into the city. But after a while, when the trees are so tall I can't see over them, so thick I can barely see through them, I'm the only car on the road.

I see the sign for the campsite and turn, heading down the dirt path to the small parking lot about a half mile in from the road. There are a couple of other jeeps and trucks here, one of them belonging to the park ranger who sits inside the small welcome center/general store. I head inside to use the bathroom, the last little "luxury" I give myself before spending a week away from everyone.

"Hi mis- Autumn! Haven't seen you for what...3 years?"

I smile at the man behind the counter, giving him a little wave. "Hey Jay! You're still working here? I thought you'd have retired by now." I grab a couple of bags of the beef jerky they have on sale. It's made by a local farmer and I can only get it here.

Jay chuckles. "Next year. Maybe."

"Don't push yourself too hard, Jay."

"Oh! Mary had her baby! Course she's 3 now."

"Oh really? Damn, 3 already?”

Jay looks at me pointedly. “Well that’s what you get for taking so long to come back and visit.”

Before I can answer, the bell on the entrance door jingles out and Jay glances over my shoulder. “Afternoon, sir! Can I help you with anything?”

“Just a trail map, thanks.” His voice is a little raspy, like he hadn’t used it for a while. I turn to point to the map stand but am momentarily frozen.

This man is gorgeous.

Tall, short blonde hair, slightly longer up top. Military or ex military judging by the cut and the way he holds himself. But his eyes meet mine, slate blue and what was I saying?

Jay pinches my arm. “Show him the maps, Autumn.”

I force a small chuckle to Jay, quickly pulling my arm from his pinching fingers and walk towards the blonde man and am hit with the scent of pine, leather, and old spice. Normally I would not be into the latter on a man but the way it mixes with his natural scent is going straight to my head. And other places.

“Here,” I somehow manage to walk past him and grab a map from the spinning holder, turning to hand it to him. The man takes it, his eyes twinkling before he gives me a quick wink.

“Thanks, darlin’.” His eyes quickly flick down my body, or maybe I’m imagining it?

“You check the weather before coming, sir?”

His eyes are on mine still for another moment before he turns to address Jay. “Yeah I did. This isn’t my first time camping.”

Jay nods. “Military?”

The man chuckles. “Vet. Am I that obvious?”

Jay shrugs. “Not exactly. I just know people. Well, as long as you know what you’re in for. Shouldn’t be too bad but just make sure to stay warm. Not sure how long you’ll be here but if ever a blizzard alert comes up, you come right back here, ok? There’s a small cabin out back that’s open to campers 24/7.”

“Thanks.” The man takes his map, declining Jay’s offer of a bag. He glances back over at me. “See you later, darlin’.”

Fuck. Me. “See you!”

It takes me the usual couple of days to make it to my favorite spot, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I break through the trees, the breathtaking view of the mountains and lake spread out before me. It feels like coming home.

I get to work setting up my camp, fire and tent good to go, my food hanging from a bag in a tree. I managed to find a place with a good fallen log, perfect for sitting on or against and close enough to the fire so I can keep warm. The wind blows through the nettles of the tall pines around me, the cool, misty breeze coating the exposed skin on my face. I take a deep breath in and out. I really missed being here.

I do turn on my high powered radio to listen to the weather report twice a day, making sure nothing unexpected is coming. There’s something the weathermen are looking at, but they don’t think it’ll be anything. Still, the temps are sure to drop in a couple of days and there may be a bit of snow. I’m prepared for it, but it’s still good to know.

A couple days later, I’m about a half mile from camp, walking along the trail near the lake. So far, I’ve seen a couple of deer and a ton of birds. I’m stopped, leaning against a tree trunk to take a quick break when I hear the sound of footsteps on the path ahead. I know I’m not the only one camping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t instantly on alert. Another couple of seconds of hearing the sound and I know it’s human. From around the curve of the path emerges the man from Jay’s, his pack full and looking heavy. He sounds a little winded and had obviously been walking for a bit. I straighten myself and wave to him.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!”

The man glances at me and smiles, the same one from the shop. “Hey…Autumn?”

I nod. I tell him my real name. “But Jay’s been calling me Autumn since I first came to this trail.”

“Let me guess. It was during Autumn?”

I chuckle. “Jay is original.”

He comes closer, but stops several feet away, breathing heavier. “I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.”

He nods to me. “Same.”

He still doesn’t move. “I don’t bite, you know.”

He cocks his head, confused, but then seems to piece it together. “Oh. Well, I didn’t want to freak you out by invading your space.”

I’m fairly positive if this man wanted to take me down, he could’ve done that, several feet away with a pack on or no. “Thank you. That’s…unexpected. And kind.”

“Don’t other people do that?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Oh. Well they should.”

I shrug. “Maybe….but Will, you can come closer. It’s alright.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

He remains rooted to the spot. “You don’t think I’ll take advantage of you?”

I snort. “I’m fairly positive you could’ve done that already, Mr. Military. Don’t threaten me with a good time.” What the fuck did I just say?

I swear I see the tips of his ears turn pink as he chuckles, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “A good time it would be.”

He comes closer and I gesture towards my bag which is resting against a log. He takes his own off and sets it beside mine, shrugging and stretching his shoulders a bit. “I really should’ve taken a break before now. Gettin’ old sucks.”

I chuckle, my eyes roaming down his arms, the flannel on his shirt hugging his biceps in all the right ways.

“You look in great shape to me.”

His eyes meet mine and we stare at each other for several moments before I blink, shaking my head a little to rid myself of the not at all PG thoughts I was having.

“So…are you trying to make it back to that cabin before the weather moves in?”

Will clears his throat, giving his own head a little shake before crossing his arms across his broad chest. “That was the plan.”

“Have you listened to the weather station today?”

He furrows his brows and I melt. “No, why?”

“The uh..storm? Is moving a little faster than they thought. No way you’ll make it back to Jay’s cabin before it starts to pick up.”

“Shit.” Will sighs, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really thought I’d be able to make it but my leg was acting up.”

I can tell he’s not used to this, needing breaks. He seems like the kind of guy that just pushes through the pain. Until it pushes back.

“Come on. You can stay with me.” I push back from the tree and lean down to get my pack, swinging it up on my back. When I look back up at Will, he’s staring at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Did you just invite me to your camp?”

I adjust the straps on my shoulders. “Yeah. Let’s get going so that way we aren’t stuck.”

“You trust me?”

I click the last strap into place across my chest before I look at him. “I thought we established that I do.”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes moving between mine and I swear he glances down at my lips. “You sure you have the space?”

I shrug. “May be a little bit of a squeeze but temps are dropping anyway. We can always find a way to get warm.” What did I just say?

A small smirk spreads across his beautiful face. “I’m sure we can, darlin’.” He leans down and grabs his own pack, situating it on his back before he gestures to me. “Lead the way.”

Talking to Will is easy, comforting almost. He tells me about his time in the army, Delta Force, and his brothers, including his real life brother Benny. A golden retriever of a man if I ever heard of one. He asks me questions about my life and listens intently, actually interested in what I have to say. Before I know it, we’re back at my camp. Will stops for a moment, staring out over the lake at the mountain behind it and whistles. “You found a hell of a view.”

“Thanks. It took me a couple years to find but now it’s like home.”

Will helps me start a fire and get food cooking, laughter and conversation flows just as easily as before and I find myself gravitating towards him, physically. But he also seems to be scooting closer and closer until our legs are nearly touching. Snowflakes start to fall, coming in faster and thicker.

“We should probably get the sleeping bags set up before it gets hard to see,” Will suggests, his breath puffing out in tendrils in front of him.

“Good idea.”

Will gets the outside of our little camp ready as the sun starts to dip and night comes. We manage to get in the tent before the snow really starts to come down. It’s a little bigger than a one room tent, but we’re still pretty snug in here now that there’s two of us. And he’s so fucking broad. I shift my sleeping bag over a bit more and Will slides his down next to mine. He looks between our bags and then up at me, his eyebrows pulled together in slight concern.

“What is it?” I ask nervously.

“It’s…nevermind.”

I punch his arm and have to choke back a scream at how firm it is. “Just tell me.”

He chuckles while he dramatically rubs his arm. “Ouch,” he smirks as I roll my eyes. “But we should zip our bags together. For warmth. It’s about to get pretty cold.”

“William Miller. Are you asking to get in my sleeping bag with me?”

He shifts nervously, his ear tips turning red. “No! I uh, that’s not… I mean, it’s basic survival. I didn’t mean.. I don’t want you to think-”

I laugh then, cutting him off. “Chill out, Will. I know how you meant it. You’re a nice guy. I just like watching you blush.”

He rubs at his face. “You’re dangerous.”

“How dare you, good sir. I am a lady.”

He snorts and I swear under his breath he says “I bet you are.”

We get the bags zipped together and slide down in them, trying to leave as much space as we could between us. After several minutes of us shuffling around awkwardly, Will chuckles.

“You wanna be the big spoon or the little one?”

My laughter rings out in the tent joining his, tears streaming down my face at this brilliant tension breaker. “I’ll be little,” I choke out. I turn around, facing my back towards him. I feel him scoot closer and heat instantly rushes through my body, pooling between my thighs. Can he hear how my heart is about to beat from my chest?

“Is this ok?” Will’s breath fans out over my neck, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake.

“Uh..I uh…y-yeah. All good. Is it uh, close enough? For survival, I mean.”

Will clears his throat. “Uh, well I mean. We should probably be, uh, closer. To stay warm. For survival, of course.”

“Well if it’s for survival, scoot as close as you want.”

He makes a choking sound but shifts closer, his body molding to mine. I can feel his hand hovering, unsure of where to place it. I reach back and take it, gently placing it on my hip, trying to ignore the heat that immediately ignites, flowing down between my legs. The wind blows outside, the tent rustling with it. I shift my hips a little and Will’s grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. And I can feel something else pressing against my ass and I swallow hard.

“You’re going to have to stop moving around, darlin’. Please.” He chokes out the last word, sounding restrained.

I take a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to?”

His grip tightens even more and I know I’ll bruise if he keeps it up. And I don’t care if I do.

“I’m trying really hard to be respectful, Autumn.”

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Don’t be respectful then.”

A quiet growl emanates from him. “What are you saying?”

I make sure I have his gaze. “Be disrespectful. If it’s permission you want, you have it.”

He watches me for a long moment before I feel him shift, his arm that’s not gripping my hip sliding under my neck. He twists his wrist, sliding it down to unbutton my shirt, his hand finding it’s way down my shirt and under my bra, gently swiping his fingers over my nipple. But at the same time, his other hand slowly moves from my hip, pulling my leg up and over his own, his hand gently teasing my skin as he pushes it under my pantline and between my legs, another groan when he feels how wet I am. I gasp as he nips at my shoulder.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, Autumn.”

I try to respond, but instead a moan escapes me as his fingers start to play with me, gentle circles with alternating pressure as all my blood rushes between my legs, that fire igniting rather quickly.

“Will, I’m gonna…” I’m not entirely sure what I say as I come, my leg twitching as my body soars, pleasure radiating out from between my thighs, spreading throughout me.

“Feeling warm?” Will speaks deeply in my ear, nibbling a little on my ear lobe.

I nod, my head flying already. “You didn’t even take my clothes off.”

He chuckles against my neck. “I told you I was respectful.”

Surprising even myself, I reach behind me and grab him over his pants. He grunts but pushes against my hand, no doubt relieving some of the pressure. I turn my head towards him, my lips barely brushing his. “Please, Will.”

His eyes are like a storm at sea, blue and wild, darkening. “Tell me.”

I take his hand and push it between my legs where I was growing wetter by the second as I push my hips back, grinding on him. He grunts in my ear. “You gotta stop doing that or I won’t be able to hold myself.”

My hand, still over his, pushes his fingers towards my entrance, his thick fingers circling me, heat and anticipation swirling around me. “D-don’t hold yourself back. Fuck me, Will. Please,” I’m not above begging at this point, his finger continuing to edge me along. But then he’s pulling his hand out of my pants, trying to sit up but struggling because we’re in a sleeping bag.

“Take off your clothes before I rip them off.”

That command went straight through me, my fingers moving quickly to take off all my clothes, tossing them out of the sleeping bag. Will does the same on his own, starting his own neater pile outside of the sleeping bag. I lay back down, assuming he’ll want the same position. His fingers skim across my side, watching the goosebumps pimple up. But then he pushes my hip down, turning me on my back as he slides over my body, my legs opening as wide as I can to give him space. He’s heavy, fuck he’s so much bigger than I thought as he presses against my clit, hot and pulsing. His eyes find mine, a dark twinkle in them as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I part them and he slides his tongue inside, the kiss quickly heating up as he starts to move his hips. He slides himself over me, back and forth across my clit, swallowing my moans. My fingers dig at his back, silently begging him for more. The pressure is so intense, so much, that if he doesn’t fuck me now, I may just pop. Or go insane.

Then Will gently takes my wrists, pinning them on either side of my head. His hips shift and with a confident stride, he pushes into me, my head pressing back into the pillow as I feel the pleasant burn, my body stretching to accept him, all of him. He pulls his hips back and pushes in, this time with a little more force and I feel a jolt through my body as he hits some spot at the back of me. I whine as Will continues to fuck me, slowly but forcefully, heat coursing through me. And then, I snap, crying out his name as I squeeze around him, my entire body lighting up and carrying me away from myself, my release made more intense by being pinned under him, unable to move away from the intense pleasure.

Will’s breaths are heavy, panting out with restraint, like he’s holding himself back. He kisses me again, hard, nipping at my bottom lip before pulling back and out, but before I have a chance to feel too empty, he somehow flips me on my belly, my boobs pressing into the sleeping bag as he arcs my hips up just enough for him to slide in easily, my body greedily taking him in. He lays on top of me, his arms over mine as he laces his fingers with my hands. The weight of him both on and in me sends heat right back between my legs. He bites at my neck and shoulder as he fucks into me, deeper and harder with every thrust until I’m coming again, screaming his name into my pillow as I feel his hips sputter, Will whining in my ear as he spills inside of me. His body slumps against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath. Eventually, he slides off of me and to my side, turning me and pulling me to his chest. He nuzzles in my hair, wrapping his arms around me again, one massive hand holding a boob.

“Warm enough?” Will whispers in my ear.

“Mmm..” I respond. “You didn’t tell me you could fuck, Will.”

He chuckles and kisses my neck. “I’m restricted by this sleeping bag, darlin’. I did the best I could.”

The whine that escapes me is loud. “I’d love to see that.”

“Well when I’m done with you after this camping trip darlin’, you’re going to need some time to recover. And then I plan on showing you exactly how my fucking is.”

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thatonebirdwrites · 16 hours

Text

Cheating Death Part 2

Part 1 here.

Only seconds after Lena vanished in the portal, the Kryptonite cage melted into the floor. A yellow light pulsed so brightly, Kara had to close her eyes. Light infused her cells and pushed the pain of the Kryptonite away.

Lena's words echoed in Kara's head. How she'd stomped and shouted, the tears on her face, the desperation in her voice. How heartbroken she'd been when she'd said, "No, no you don't get to tell me who I am anymore."

She didn't know what to do. Lena had been hurting and grieving this entire time, and what had she and her friends done? Celebrated her brother's death, ignored Lena's increasingly isolating behaviors, and pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't fine.

Yet, the yellow light. Why had that activated? Was it Lena or the Fortress?

Kara ran through the Fortress to the control panel. She dug into the log and swiftly found Lena's code. It had been programmed to create the cage if Kara asked about Myriad, but then the yellow light was also programmed to heal Kara after Lena escaped. A note was annotated on that section of the code, and Kara's breath caught in her throat.

"I wish I could stop loving you. This hurts worse than death."

Tears dampened her cheeks and she wiped them away. What would she tell Alex? How can she explain any of this?

She didn't want her friends to turn on Lena, and Alex definitely would go after Lena if she knew about the cage. It'd been temporary, and Lena had programed a healing sun-bed equivalent burst for after. That alone gave her hope that she could still reach Lena.

Because even in her heartbreak, Lena did not want Kara dead.

She grabbed the weapon she needed, the same one Lena had used to stop Leviathan from killing Kara, and re-calibrated security. Her tears froze on her cheeks by the time she finished.

Kara flew out of the Fortress and high into the stratosphere. She listened for Lena's heartbeat, but heard nothing at first. Fear clenched her heart. Either Lena hid behind lead, or something terrible had gone wrong since she'd left. She hoped it was the former.

With a heavy heart, she flew to the DEO. Alex waited on a balcony.

"Kara?" Alex said, alarmed. "What the hell happened? Where's Lena?"

Kara held out the weapon. "It works as hoped. Sustained blast will keep Rama Khan down, and then attach the power dampeners."

Alex took the weapon with a frown. "Kara, what happened to Lena? Where is she?"

Kara shook her head. She couldn't voice it. She refused to believe Lena was lost to them. There had to be a way to save her, to bring her back, to repair what Kara had fucked up.

She pressed her hands against her face and flinched when Alex tried to touch her shoulder. "I got to find her," she whispered. "I got to make things right. I got to."

"Kara, I can't help if you don't tell me." Alex's voice held kindness, but Kara knew how quickly Alex could turn to anger. When it came to Kara's safety, Alex might cross a line she'd regret. Kara had done it for Alex a few times.

But with Lena? Kara had no boundaries. Lena held her heart in a way no one else did. She'd talked herself into settling for Mon-el, but it'd never been who she needed.

She needed Lena.

"Kara?" Alex tried again. "Kara, talk to me."

"She's the one who shot Lex." The words felt unreal.

Alex's brow wrinkled. "I thought he died when he fell."

Kara shook her head. "We never found a body or even parts from his suit, remember? If he had a portal watch, he could have gone anywhere."

Alex sucked in a breath. "And Lena was waiting for him?"

Kara nodded. "She shot him to protect us. She's been grieving and hurting all this time, and what have we done? Ignored her grief! Where were we for her pain?" She paced the balcony as fury at herself and everyone around her built up in her sternum. "I hurt her! I hurt her with my lies, and I have to fix this."

"Kara," Alex hefted the weapon. "Maybe let Lena have her space. We still have to deal with--"

"Alex, you didn't hear her!" Her pacing quickened and a groove appeared in the concrete from her superspeed.

Kara should tell Alex, and yet she couldn't. She needed to save Lena from Myriad herself, but to do that, she needed to find Lena. And she still couldn't hear her heartbeat.

She let out a shout of rage, her fist colliding with the wall and shattering the concrete. "I hurt the person I love! I have to fix this. I have to bring her back."

Her rage petered into sobs, and she fell to her knees.

Her, the strongest and fastest on the planet, brought to her knees by a Luthor.

She thinks of all the times she could have told Lena, and how she'd chickened out, afraid of losing her. Afraid of living a life without Lena's presence. Now a Lena-shaped hole had been carved in her chest, and she hurt.

It felt like Kryptonite all over again.

Was this how Lena had felt the past few months? This agony?

And yet, Lena had still helped. She'd still saved Kara's life. Still built devices that helped others. Why Myriad? Why use that monstrous device? Kara couldn't make sense of it. The months of pretending to be Kara's friend.

She should be angry at Lena. Furious at the betrayal, but she felt only grief. She'd started this with her lies, with leaving Lena in the dark. Lena could have helped so much more if she'd been in on it from the start. Then this never would have happened.

Kara sat there, silent, head-bowed long enough for Alex to leave and return with a cup of herbal tea. Rooibos since most other teas were too intense thanks to Kara's supertaste. Her fingers curled around the warm cup.

"I tasked Brainy and J'onn with the weapons. We'll deal with Leviathan." Alex smiled and squeezed Kara's shoulder. "You do what you need to do, Kara. I'm with you, okay?"

Kara nodded numbly. She sipped the tea and slowly became aware of a high-pitched beeping. "Wait, that's the signal watch," she murmured. She put down the cup and listened. It came from downtown. "Lena," she whispered.

Before Alex could respond, Kara blasted into the sky and broke the sound barrier. The crack whipped across the city and shook windows. She landed on Lena's balcony at L-Corp, ripped open the door, and dashed into a dark room. The beeping came from the stairwell.

Horror twisted her gut. She supersped down the stairs, all forty-three flights, until she reached the stairs just below ground level near the door to security.

She threw open the door and the thick scent of iron assaulted her nose.

Eve lay in a pool of blood, no heartbeat. Someone dressed in black lay crumbled near Eve, again no heartbeat. Blood coated the stairs from where Lena must have crawled.

Lena, her Lena, lay motionless, one hand on the top step. For a horrifyingly long second, Kara couldn't hear a heartbeat. She dropped next to Lena and pressed her fingers against Lena's pulse point.

No, there it was.

A faint badum-badum, the most precious sound in the universe.

She could do nothing for the others, but she still had a chance to save Lena. A scan of her body revealed the bullet in her side, how it pierced a lung.

Kara gathered Lena into her arms, and ran through the security sector, hitting each door with her shoulder to wrench it open, until she finally made her way outside.

Lena's blood soaked into her suit, her head rolling in Kara's arms. She held her close and flew as fast as she dared toward the DEO. "Lena, please," she whispered, "please hold on. Don't you dare die on me. Not now. Not like this."

When her feet touched down, she heard Alex's voice shouting about a Rama Khan sighting. Agents poured into vehicles, and the team prepared to leave.

Kara ignored them. She walked through the bustle, and people parted for her.

Alex turned from where she studied Brainy's screens. Her eyes widened. "What the hell...?"

"Please. Help her." Tears clouded her vision.

"Medical now. Brainy J'onn's in charge." Alex grasped Kara's arm and maneuvered her through the mess of the control center. Technicians worked on last minute fine-tuning of weapons, and others manned screens plotting possible vectors. Activity that meant nothing to Kara, not if Lena died.

Not if she couldn't speak her last truth to Lena.

She laid Lena on the medical bed, and Alex ordered her nurses to get an IV in immediately. Kara began to pace, the blood drying on her suit. Alex cut away Lena's shirt and examined the wound.

"She needs surgery now."

"What do I do?" she asked Alex, anguished. "What do I do?"

Alex shook her head. "You can't help with this. Go help J'onn, and wear Lena's anti-kryptonite suit. I'm not sure how long I'll be in surgery."

"Can you save her?"

"I will try my best," Alex said. She refused to look at Kara, and that told her far too much.

Alex didn't think Lena would make it.

"Promise?" the words came out small, plaintive.

"Promise. Now get out of my way." Alex hooked the IV bag to the pole on one end of the bed, and rolled it toward an interior suite. Two nurses followed along with a second doctor.

Kara closed her eyes and listened to the most beautiful heartbeat in the universe -- it faintly hung on, slower and slower with each passing minute.

She couldn't stay and watch the medical team open up Lena. She couldn't.

Instead, she grabbed the anti-kryptonite suit. As it flowed over her, she almost wept again. It felt like Lena hugged her, the suit entirely her design and her nanites.

She flew outside and listened for J'onn. The fight was to the southeast by the docks.

Hadn't Leviathan been targeting Lena? She'd saved her once from them already. Maybe twice if she counted the break-in that had knocked Lena unconscious.

Now Lena was dying, and Kara didn't just want justice for Lena.

She wanted to tear apart whoever ordered that assassin.

The windows shook at the sonic boom, and the ground cratered when she landed.

Rama Khan and another Leviathan member battled J'onn and Dreamer, who had the weapon from the Fortress. Agents, with adjusted weaponry to match the power-disrupting frequency, scattered around the docks.

Kara didn't care about the risk. She didn't care about the Kryptonite weapons the assholes carried.

She crashed into Rama Khan and threw him into a dock building. The wall crumpled. "Did you hire Lena Luthor's killer?" she growled.

Rama Khan laughed and stood with hardly a mark on him and his ridiculous earth-toned suit. "Those who cross Leviathan do not live to tell the tale. Let you now join her, Supergirl." He extended his hand and the ground shook violently.

A blast from Dreamer's gun sent Rama Khan sprawling. Kara sped over and grabbed him by the throat. Her feet she stomped on his arms. "No one hurts Lena and survives," she growled. Her eyes glowed, and she let out a scream of grief and fury.

She blasted him and punched him again and again. Blood gushed from his face, but then he melted into the earth and stumbled into being a few feet away.

Only for Dreamer to blast him again. Kara pummeled him with the rage of a thousand suns. Her vision red, and the land ripped and shredded in their fight. Part of the pier demolished when Kara threw Rama Khan's accomplice into it. Another building fell when Rama blasted Kara into its walls.

Rama Khan slowed, each blast from the gun scrambled his powers long enough for Kara to rip into him until he bled from multiple places. She lost track of the others, so intent on eliminating the one who ordered Lena's hit.

"Kara!" J'onn clamped the power dampeners on the alien. "Kara, we got him."

Kara clenched Rama's neck and looked down to see the cuffs clasped to his wrists.

How much loss could a heart handle? Why did the universe seek to torture her so? Her entire planet, nearly all her friends, and now the woman she loves most -- loss melted through her crevices, filled her with a blinding fury.

She'd fought to keep everyone alive. It's why she needed to be in control, but that obsession of controlling everything, to make sure she never lost, had poisoned her. She couldn't control everything.

She couldn't even save Lena. The thought of Lena dying in surgery, of never hearing her voice again -- even Lena shouting in anger?

Her fingers crunched bone. Rama Khan tumbled from her grasp and hit the ground with a thump, motionless.

Dreamer and J'onn looked at her, but she didn't respond to their words or looks. Agents swarmed around them to secure the site, while Brainy set up the containment unit for Rama Khan and his accomplices. The ruckus roared like the sea in her ears.

She turned without a word and shot into the sky. She flew as high as she could, to where little to no oxygen existed. The fury burned in her, and she wanted to rip herself apart. She deactivated her helmet, turned off its life support systems, and let the lack of air suffocate her and her emotions.

She'd live. She'd always live, wouldn't she? While all she loved died.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall. Air whooshed around her body, screamed in her ears as she hit terminal velocity. For those brief moments, she heard nothing but the shrill wind, the rest of the Earth drowned out in her fall. A moment of release from the endless soundscape.

Halfway to the ground, she righted herself and flew to the edge of Earth's atmosphere. Again she let herself fall. For a third time, she soared high and fell.

Each time she let herself get closer and closer to hitting the ocean. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outpace her fury at her own actions. At her failure.

This time she hit the water. She sunk into its depths.

Sea life swam around her, the distant calls of whales rippled through the water. What should delight her brought her sorrow.

No, she couldn't die. Her wretched powers, her curse, kept her alive. Kept her isolated from those she loved. Her careful, practiced control meant even in moments of extreme emotion, she still had to make sure not to hug too tightly. And kissing? How many noses had she broken?

All she wanted was Lena. Even if she could never be with Lena, she needed Lena to be alive. To be healthy and happy. Kara could live with just being on the sidelines, right? As long as Lena was alive.

She burst out of the ocean in a shower of sea water. She hung in the air and watched the waves below her. Her ears tuned to her favorite heartbeat, and there it was, faint, far too faint, but still pulsing.

A slither of hope wove into Kara's wretched spirit. She flew back to the DEO, the wind drying the moisture from the sea.

When she landed, Nia met her at the balcony's doors. "Kara," she breathed out as if she'd been running. "Been looking everywhere."

Kara crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"It's Lena. Alex said to let you know the surgery is ongoing and Lena's handling it like a pro." Nia met her gaze, but worry painted across her face. "Don't lose hope yet. She may still live."

Kara said nothing. She heard the rebuke in Nia's words, but she didn't regret her actions. For Lena, there was no boundaries. She'd destroy a thousand Rama Khans if it meant saving Lena.

She followed Nia down the hall, through two intersections, and into the medical bay. Most of the beds were occupied by injured agents from the Leviathan battle. It was the surgery room that occupied all of Kara's attention.

Lena's heart beat still in those glass walls.

Kara walked up to them and pressed a hand against the cool glass. Lena looked so pale. So fragile.

The tears returned. Her chest constricted with a Lena-shaped hole that ached with each beat of her heart.

She didn't move from that spot for the rest of the surgery. Kara held vigil in silence, unmoving. She'd given Lena revenge on those who tried to kill her, and now Kara waited.

Waited for hope to dawn once more.

/end part 2

#supercorp #kara danvers #supergirl #kara zor el #kara x lena #cw supergirl #Lena Luthor #Alex Danvers #That one episode where Kara falls from super high in the sky haunts me and why it appeared in this fic #Yeah I rewrote end of Leviathan storyline because they make no sense as villains anyway and I wanted to get them out of the way #so I could explore how Kara seeing Lena barely alive and covered in blood is the straw that broke the camel's back #Kara's life is marked by loss and Lena's loss tips her close to a dark edge just like Alex's loss likely would do as well #So as Lena barely holds on to life #Kara barely holds on to hope and light #Again I don't know why I wrote this super angsty fic #And I guess there will be a third part now #In a way I suppose both parts is a character study

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you-know-i-get-itt · 3 days

Text

warning: major tw for implied/referenced suicide

We know that Jean tried to kill himself at least once while he was at the Nest. This is a collection of the (mostly) unsent suicide notes that marked his life before Renne brought him to Palmetto.

ao3 version

Found crumpled at the bottom of a wastebasket:

Kevin

I hear this is something people do, so I am doing it as well. I want to start by apologizing. I am sorry. You will blame yourself, I know that, but it is not your fault. You could not have done anything.

I do not know how to write this. Please forgive me. For not being able to write this, and also for dying. I hope you—

Found stuffed under the mattress of a twin bed in the Nest:

Kevin

Thank you for being my friend. It took this long because I did not want to leave you. You are getting quite good at French. I know I have not told you that, so I am telling you now. You should keep learning. Maybe you will go to France one day. Maybe you will even go to You do not have to forgive me, but please forgive yourself, because this is not your fault. I know that doesn’t—

Found folded in the pocket of a tossed-out pair of shorts:

Kevin

Thank you for being my friend. You have been the best thing in my life for the last two years and it makes me i feel it saddens me to leave you. I know you will endure without me, because you must. I am sorry I could not. If you ever see—

Found in the back of a cupboard in his room:

Kevin

I am sorry I am writing this but there is nothing else left now and everything is terrible and I hate it I hate it I hate it I can’t endure anymore I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sor—

Found, and read, on top of a bedside table (Jean had lain bleeding beside it):

Kevin

I am sorry to be writing this but there was no other way for me to tell you. This is not your fault and you should not take blame. It was out of your hands. Grayson was I am surprised it took this long, but I have found now that there is no way out. My life will not change. You will leave the Nest, and you will be Court, and you will be loved, and I will be here. I will be Riko’s favorite toy and I will be [something is scratched out]. Do not mourn for me, but if you must, just look around. Everyone is always mourning something at the Nest.

When I was in Marseille, somebody told me that when we die, we walk toward a white light. I want to see that white light. I am tired of the dark.

I am sorry. Thank you for being my friend. Do not blame yourself. [something is scratched out] I love you.

- Jean

Found in the lining of a discarded Ravens jersey:

Kevin

I do not like to make promises I cannot keep, and for that I am sorry.

I said this the last time as well, and I will say it again: do not blame yourself. You will continue without me. Forget me, if you can. It will not be difficult. I have just one request: if you find this, and I tried but it did not work, kill me. Riko said—

Found in shreds on the bathroom floor:

Kevin

I cannot do this anymore. I know you understand. Please forgive I am sorry I am breaking the promise I made you but you will be alright without me. [something is blotted out] know but I promise mean it when I say that I survived so far because—

Found in the back of a desk drawer:

Kevin

I tried. I could not. I a—

Found at the bottom of a kit bag:

Kevin

Things have been worse with Riko, and I am sorry to be leaving you this way. I am also sorry to be breaking my promise, but you know when you made me make it that I may not keep it. I have lived for you this past year, and I cannot continue doing so anymore. This is not—

Found on a bench as though no effort had been made to hide it (but it was never read anyway):

Riko

Give Kevin my condolences. Tell him I do not hate him for leaving, and this is not his fault. You can do that much, since it is entirely yours.

- Jean

Found in the lining of a pillow in his room:

Zane

Thank you for protecting me. I know you did not want to. Do whatever you want with my things, and tell Kevin—

Found pressed between the pages of an economics textbook:

Zane

Tell Kevin I am sorry. You can do what you want with my things. Do not let Grayson take my bed. Or let him. I know it is not your choice. If this—

Found tucked into the corner of a running shoe:

Kevin

I know you will not read this. I do not know why I am writing it.

(Zane, it is more probable that you will read this. Send it to Kevin if you do. Do not read the rest.)

I do not blame you for leaving. I know you had no choice. I wish things could have happened differently, but if I could change the past, I would have never met you at all, because I would have never left Marseille.

I know I am breaking my promise, but you broke yours first. Do not feel bad about that, but take it to mean that we are even now. I will not apologize, because there is no point in asking forgiveness while giving it, so let’s exchange our forgiveness silently. I forgive you for taking away the only thing that could have kept me alive. You forgive me for taking the obvious step.

I know I cannot stop you from mourning me, so I will not tell you not to.

I hope you find everything you are searching for, and I hope you learn to live louder. You deserve [something is scribbled out] better. I miss you

- Jean

Found folded and stuffed into a keyhole:

Renee

Thank you for everything. You have been kinder to me than I deserve. Know that you did all you could. You were never going to be able to save me, and that is not your fault. Not everybody is meant to be saved. Let me be the person to show you that, and stop you from hoping foolishly in the future. You did your best. You do not—

Found stuck to the bottom of the bathroom cupboard:

Dear Renee

Thank you for everything. But I do not believe in miracles, and so I cannot believe in you. Do not think you could have done any more than you did already.

Tell Kevin I forgive him, and that I ask him to forgive me in return. He will know what I mean. Try not to remember me, because it will do you no good. In another life, perhaps you could have saved me. But not in this one. In this one, I am a Moreau, and in this one, I belong to the Moriyamas. I know my place. Perhaps in another life, this place could have been by your side.

Thank you for trying. I am sorry it was not enough.

- Jean

Found rolled up in the hollow of a broken exy racquet:

Nathaniel

Do not let Grayson take my place on the court and do not let him take my place in my room and do not let him have my number and do not—

Found squeezed next to the previous one:

Nathaniel

Do not let Grayson take my place in my room. Kill him if you can. Thank you.

Keep Kevin safe.

- Jean

Found beside a broken flip phone:

Kevin

It was not my fault this time, and it was also not yours. If you read this, know that you have nothing to take the blame for. I did not break my promise, though it may look as though I did. Tell Renee I am grateful. Tell Nathaniel he is lucky to have all of you. I would not expect anyone to come looking for me the way you all did for him. Do not— [something is blotted out] please. I lov am thankful you have found the life you deserve. Have [something illegible, followed by a smear of blood]

#jean moreau #aftg #all for the game #tsc #the sunshine court #kevin day #renee walker #riko moriyama #zane reacher #kevjean #jeanee #my writing #tw implied suicide #tw suicide

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jo-harrington · 1 day

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Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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httpseungmxn · 2 days

Text

Big Boy

Quackity X Streamer!Female Reader

🍡 - flirty/extra flirty

Authors Note: Hello hello my Angels, I know I promised the Jin fic soon buuuuuut Q posted this photo and everyone, including myself, went wild over it! So I just had to make a fic about it! I have decided to make a new fic category just for this one, flirty/extra flirty! This fic will also play off of the other fics I made about him! I hope you guys can enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!<3

Warnings: Lanai attempts to get reader canceled:( , Reader is called “hermosa” and “amor”, wee bit of cussing fr this time

Triggers: None as far as I am aware!

You had really come to know Alex over the past few months. Him becoming one of your best friends, especially after it came out that your best friend Lenai had been spreading lies about you. She had gone to Alex first, expecting him to believe her, but that was a big mistake. As soon as he noticed the negative way she was speaking, he hopped on call with you while also helping notify your fans of the girl's lies.

Nightly calls were almost a daily thing between you two, as well as constant facetimes during yours and his visits to the gym. His hat was always left on, despite feeling just a little extra hot, he wasn’t quite ready to show you yet. You fully understood considering you used to hide your face from everyone.

The closer you got, the more you wanted to visit him. You were bringing much more in than you expected from streaming, so a plane ticket wouldn’t be a problem. You wanted it to be a surprise to Alex though, knowing that would make it more fun. Alex had often talked about you guys meeting in real life, and how exciting it would be. It was decided, you would be booking a flight to see him. You already knew where he lived, having reached out to karl to help you with the surprise. Making him swear he wouldn’t tell alex you were going to see him. The plane ticket was much easier to get than you expected, and packing was done in a matter of hours.

The nerves set in that night after you had finished packing. It was clear to you and the fans that you had a bit of a thing for Alex, and getting to meet him was making you nervous. You always wondered if you should tell him how you felt but was always too scared to let it slip out to him. You had come so close to saying it a few days ago but it just got stuck in your throat.

You hardly slept the night, and as much as you hoped you would sleep on the plane, you didn’t. You were too nervous and excited at the same time. Feeling bad when you had to decline a facetime from alex while you were on the plane, not wanting to spoil the surprise. Though you answered him as soon as you were off the plane and in a taxi. “ hermosa, why didn’t you answer any of my calls before? I thought you were mad at me! “, “ im sorrrryyyy, I was taking a long nap, I’m in a taxi now though “, “ a taxi? Where are you going, hermosa? “, smiling to yourself, knowing in just a short while he will know where you are.

That came sooner than you expected though. Getting out of the taxi and making sure the camera is angled directly at your face so he can’t see where you are. “ im just visiting a friend nearby. Hold on just one sec, alex. “. knocking very gently on his door and looking to the camera, nerves setting back in when you see him leave his room. “ someones here, but I didn’t order any pizza. if I die, it was the hut, hermosa. “, unable to hold back a giggle. Looking to the door when it opens and smiling brightly at the boy in front of you. “ guess now you know which friend I’m visiting, huh? “. He didn’t respond at first, probably still trying to process it. Just as you didn’t process what he was doing until you were lifted up into a tight hug.

Smiling brightly as you hugged back. Not even letting go when you were set down. His arms were wrapped to tight around your waist, if you were a balloon you probably would’ve popped by now. You didn’t mind it though, you felt safe in his arms. Your nerves being shooed away with one little hug. “ how the fuck did you manage to surprise me so well, hermosa “ , “ you know I like to keep you on your toes, ‘lex “. Smiling again when he lets out a light laugh at your response.

“ come in, come in, sorry it might be kind of a mess “, Alex spoke as he gathered your bags and carried them inside for you. Only then did you realize just how big he had gotten in the muscle category. Eyes staring at his muscles as they flexed with each movement. “ alex, when the hell did you manage to grow those? “, unable to hold your filter.

Listening to him laugh again before he flexed his arms to show off for you. “ are you checking me out, amor? “. That was new, he had never called you that before, and it was obvious to him you knew what it meant considering the blush coming to your cheeks. “ now don’t get too ahead of yourself, cowboy, you were the one purposely checking me out on call just five minutes ago “.

“ Did you expect me not too? You look really beautiful in that dress “. That was also new. Alex was constantly teasing you, but the tone in his voice was different now. It sounded so serious and dripped with confidence in how he felt. You found it hard to hold eye contact wit him now. Not even five minutes into the meet up, and alex already had you red.

“ Lets be honest, Amor, surely you didn’t expect me to hold back just because you’d turn all red and yell at me. You being here just means I can let it all out, times ten. “. His smile had you wobbly in the legs, there was something so different about seeing it in person compared to facetime.

Only now did you realize this visit was going to be a lot more different than you expected.

Alex was going to be the death of you.

Authors ending note; So who else got butterflies reading that? I got jittery and I’m the one writing it! I feel like I’m slowly beginning to get better at portraying him, and thats probably because I study the way a lot of people write him while also paying extra attention to how he is in streams/videos. Perhaps soon we will get a confession, and possibly a hair reveal? Who knowssss, guess you guys will have to just stick around for the next one! Also who else lost their mind over that photo he dropped last night? I’m in the whatsapp and as soon as he sent it, twitter was going absolutely chaotic[myself included]! If you guys wanna follow me on social media, my X is @/f_fuyuma! Until next time, My Angels 🫶

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 2 days

Text

Devil's Luck - Dr. Fearless/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (with some masc nicknames), nothing but typical Fearless failcringe (we love it).

Wordcount: 6836

Summary: Your luck was so weird, you could end up doing something random like win a contest to an online horror host's livestream thanks to a friend, and somehow manage to meet your soulmate, but that might be pushing it, right?

Notes: My first Fearless >:3 this was part of a trade with the wonderful @lakesofneptune for writing me Matty 💗/)//w//(\💗 it was amazing, so in return I've put on my fangs and written this 🧛 I hope you all enjoy~ 🖤🖤🖤

You didn't know how your luck worked, but boy was it prevalent in the weirdest of ways. Hitting every single detour to the point of being late, and still managing to do it on the one day of the month where it somehow still benefited you. Losing your wallet right before you need to pay for groceries, and having it be returned by the hottest person in the store just in time. Entering a random contest because your best friend only wanted half of the prize, and knowing your track record he’d written down your name on the off chance you won, so naturally you did.

That was how you ended up here on a late Monday night of all nights, the details given to you by your friend just hours before as he excitedly barged into your apartment with the announcement email printed off. You'd just gotten home, and he knew that since you were neighbours, the man waiting for you with bated breath it seemed as you watched him slap the paper down on your counter while you were still in the process of taking off your coat. ‘I just made your whole night,’ he boldly claimed, and you just blinked at him while you remained frozen mid-removal. ‘You just won the privilege to be on TV, courtesy of me! Well, not exactly, but it is being livestreamed, that's where the channel is- nevermind, just get ready, there's a dress code for this so you fit in, I wish they'd sent this earlier, we might've had time to do your hair.’

You blinked again as he spoke, his hands wild and his eyes scanning your closet for something that would fit said dress code, and you finished taking off your coat and set it over the back of your couch. ‘Uh, hello to you too,’ you said as you moved on to your shoes, not bothered at all as he started motioning for you to move a little faster.

‘Okay, I know this doesn't happen for a few hours, but you really do need to get ready,’ he insisted as he headed for your closet and inspected it more closely, your pair of black boots you saved for winter coming out along with the trenchcoat you bought as part of a Halloween costume years ago and just never donated when you were done with it.

‘What the hell are you dressing me as?’ you asked with a curious raise of your eyebrows at the startings of the ensemble, and he seemed unsure about the coat but ultimately set it aside with the boots. He didn't answer you, just rushed to your bedroom to raid your other closet presumably, and you sighed and followed him before he made a mess.

‘Need dark clothes, spikes, leather, uh… you still have the rest of that costume? I can lend you some of my stuff if you don’t,’ he wondered without even looking at you, and you resigned yourself to your fate and started to dig through the boxes buried behind all the stuff you actually wore.

‘If this is for some kinda sex thing-’

‘It’s not! It's classy, just gothic, I swear,’ he insisted when your outfit was chosen, and as you stared down at it you had to trust your weird luck and that your friend wouldn't lead you astray.

‘Fine, so what is this? Something livestreamed, am I like, putting on a presentation? Do I need to memorize anything?’ There was no fighting this, might as well go with the flow, it would be less painful this way when he brought you to this mysterious location.

‘Well, there's this channel I watch, and they're all about horror, you know how much I love horror; anyway, they got two tickets to that new vampire movie that's coming out, we're talking premium seats, free popcorn, opening night, it's sick as hell. So they started a contest, write them an email about how much you love horror and the first place winner gets the tickets as well as a spot on the show when they go to collect them, and that's gunna be you!’ It was then you noticed that he was dressed a little fancier than usual, his hair was slicked back and he was wearing eyeliner, his own gothness upped a few levels for the occasion.

‘Lemme guess, the winner gets to bring a friend,’ you figured, your reflection showing you a pair of vampires by the time you were done, it was almost kind of funny.

‘Of course, it's first prize, plus I'm not leaving without those tickets,’ he told you matter of factly, and he looked you over before humming to himself and snapping his fingers. He pulled out an eyeliner pen from his pocket and quickly applied it to you, he was very prepared for this, and you had to admit it did look like you were about to hit the local goth club or something like this. ‘That'll have to do, time to head out, thank you so much for doing this for me, you know how much I hate being on camera.’

‘Oh, so that's why I'm the scapegoat here,’ you realized flatly while you did up your shoes, but he completely missed or ignored your sarcastic tone.

‘It's just for a half hour, the host is pretty eccentric and he does bits between the movies, so most of your appearance will be banter, and you know how bad I am with that,’ he reminded you like you weren't already well aware of how he clammed up the moment someone shot a quip back at him. ‘So based on the other guests I've seen, you'll just go on, do some talking about horror stuff - which you can bullshit your way through, you've known me long enough - announce a short film submitted to or found by the producers, and then whatever movie is playing next. After that you'll probably get my tickets, we can get outta there, and I’ll tell you if the movie is any good.’

‘Wha- I don't even get to go after all this?’

‘Hell no, you know I’ve been trying to ask that girl down at the 2nd floor out, this is the perfect date, actually perfect, I can’t- I cannot waste this on just us hanging out, can’t do it man, I’m sorry,’ he apologized profusely while also managing to sound not sorry at all, something he was incredibly good at.

‘Alright, but if she doesn’t go for it, I want that second seat,’ you bargained, to which he gladly agreed as thanks for you doing this. That settled, he picked the paper back up off the counter and led the way to his car; the place was some rented building in what used to be a stripmall, all the shops around it closed and rented out for various reasons like this, between self storage, an apartment you were pretty sure, and a small-time but very heavily guarded liquor store. It wasn't impressive, but it brought life to the place you could see as people filled the normally empty parking lot now that the sun had set and the show was about to be in progress.

You’d learned that while it was livestreamed for its channel, they also opened their doors to the locals as well to stop in, catch a movie, and donate if they liked what was going on. You could see that the small crowd they drew were very much into it, no one there ironically to your surprise, and you started to worry that maybe bullshitting your way through your half hour wouldn’t be as easy as your friend thought; you were a casual enjoyer of horror compared to him, and these other people. You liked to see the latest stuff with your favourite B-Tier actor in it when he reappeared for roles, and you enjoyed the popular classics and the odd camp as much as the next guy, but could you get away with that when the person walking in front of you had the bride of Dracula shaved into his hair?

‘I don’t think I can do this, they’ll know I didn’t write the letter,’ you gulped when you transitioned from stripmall to eerily decorated rooms, the whole place looking more like you were about to enter a haunted house than a set.

‘Shit, I knew I forgot something, I printed it off so you could read it, maybe drop a line or two,’ he hissed before he was forcing a huge smile and presenting his winning ticket even though it should’ve been you. The ticket taker, a tall woman with bright red hair and too many piercings to count, looked you both over before motioning for a shorter woman with white hair done up in high twintails with fake devil horns on her headband to lead your way, and you followed her nervously until you reached the set. It was done up even more than the foyer, two plush chairs with an old box tv between them as the main attraction while the rest was decorated to look like a castle library you presumed.

There was a coffin in the left corner right before the backdrop ended, candles galore - although you were sure they were mostly for show, burnt down until the wax got everywhere while fake ones were hidden between - as well as jars filled with various things. There were so many fake cobwebs you were sure some real ones were bound to be mixed in by now, and even a fake fireplace and chandelier hung from the ceiling next to the boom mic. It was a pretty well-loved set, every nook and cranny you could see positively filled with Halloween and horror themed things; while it looked cheap to buy, everything was touched up and placed with great care, and even now people were leaving tips and browsing the small corner of the room dedicated to themed treats as well as the graciously flowing popcorn maker.

‘Wow, this is the real deal,’ you said aloud before you could help yourself, and instantly you felt a presence behind you that wasn't your friend or the woman who’d brought you over.

‘Indeed, welcome to my humble abode, I trust you’re the lucky vic- I mean, guest I’ll have the honour of sitting with tonight?’ It was a man’s voice, heavy with an over the top Transylvanian accent, and when you turned you were very much not ready to see who it belonged to; out of everyone there, it was clear even from a distance that this was your host, your eyes looking up and up until you met his own. He was pale, caked in makeup to make him appear almost dead, his eyes surrounded by more black than you’d ever seen on anyone outside of Halloween, with a thin, red scar trailing from his forehead to his cheek and a pair of long Nosferatu-style fangs resting over his bottom lip.

He was all dressed up in his vampiric best, from the black suit overtop his silky, purple shirt, to the red jeweled medallion hanging between the clasps of his impressively expensive-looking cape, but none of that was what really caught your eye. No, it was the haircut, a bob with triangle bangs that were cut way too high, and you couldn’t stop the small and short laugh as it escaped your throat when you saw it. Instantly your friend was there to stop you from letting out more and to introduce himself, your host’s eyes only on you despite the rudeness even as his hand was taken in an eager handshake.

‘Hey! Sorry about that, my name is-’

‘Please, with all due respect, it is your captivating friend here which I am interested in,’ he interrupted as he stole his hand back and presented it to you instead, and you noticed the black nail polish to top it all off when you looked down. ‘You’re the winner of my little search for a lover of all things macabre and fiendish, are you not?’

‘Uh, yeah, that’s me,’ you lied, your friend frozen in shock at getting to shake his hand even for that brief moment.

‘Wonderful, I could sense it when I looked at you, your blood smelled positively rich with fright even from across my theater, a creature after my own heart,’ he swooned like he was in love, and one quick glance to your friend told you it was all part of the bit, he thought himself a Romeo of monsters.

‘Oh, I don’t know if it’s fright, but-’ You cut yourself off when he then took your hand, tired of waiting for you to shake it, but instead of the greeting your friend had gotten, he simply lifted your hand up while he leaned over, and you felt his fake teeth press into your skin as he kissed you hello.

‘Divine, your pulse under my lips makes my heart soar, perhaps I may get more acquainted with it during the show, turn you into one of my own,’ he thought aloud as he stared at you through dark makeup and long lashes, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or blush at how hard he was hamming it on before the cameras even started rolling.

‘Yeah, sure, I’m the winner, aren’t I? Pretty good prize to become a vampire at the end,’ you joked, but he seemed to take it seriously as his eyes widened briefly in excitement.

‘What a handsome addition to my clan,’ he whispered before kissing you again, and this time you felt less sure about how much he was actually hamming it or if he was a better actor than you originally thought. Your moment was quickly interrupted when a new person arrived to hand him his script for the night, the two talking quietly to themselves as you were guided presumably just out of sight by the shorter woman again. She gave you the quick rundown while you were gently touched up for the cameras, how you were indeed going to be called on, do some banter, introduce some things, and then you were free to go claim your tickets.

Seemed easy enough, and his eccentricness seemed just as easy to match as long as you forgot the fact that 20+ people were watching you in this room alone, so you practiced your breathing and waited as the lights dimmed and a spotlight fell over the coffin in the corner. You hadn’t watched him enter it but apparently he had, the fireplace now roaring to life behind the chairs and TV, each of the fake candles now creating shadows on everything. The chatter started to quiet until the whole room was silent, everyone gathered into the mismatch of thrifted couches and chairs so it really felt like a theater or even a living room, the only sounds that of the snacks currently being chewed and the fog machine whirring to life.

‘Good evening, Boils and Ghouls, my Fiendish Freaks who dare dredge these long, cold nights with the Creatures of the Dark for any glimmer of light,’ his voice came from the speakers placed around the room, but there was no applause, that wasn't the atmosphere of this place. The coffin creaked open with a perfectly timed soundboard hit, the creak overly loud as he reached out delicately and pushed the lid until he was revealed, and the spotlight landed perfectly on him as he looked out onto the crowd before focusing on the camera. ‘Once again, it is I, your horrid host of the evening, Dr. Fearless, and I thank you all for joining me. Tonight, we have a horrible lineup of classic horror monsters to terrify you with, to finish off our Marathon of Madness leading into the most wonderful month of the year, October.

‘We also have not one, but two short films made by aspiring fearmakers, full of monsters the likes of which this castle has yet to house, let us hope none of them decide to crawl through your screen and find a home there.’ He left the coffin completely as he spoke, taking careful steps towards the leftmost chair, and as soon as he sat down the TV blinked to life, static filling the room as the spotlight faded into something gloomier so the room wasn't in complete darkness apart from the candles. ‘But first, let us welcome our Ghoulish Guest for tonight, the answer to my howls in the dark, the Passenger of the Demeter!’

That was your cue, and the soundboard lit up again with a very classic organ tune as bats chirped in the background, a roar of thunder sounding as you sat across from him. You went to shake his hand properly this time, but again he refused, another kiss warming your hand before he quickly turned your arm to expose your wrist; your eyes widened as he leaned in for a bite, and you almost let him surprisingly enough before you felt the tips of his fangs press into your skin. You jerked away, and he feigned offense before catching himself, an apology tossed your way with a great flourish.

‘Forgive me, I thought you might be offering me a drink to start off the evening, these films often leave me quite parched,’ he projected, and when you opened your mouth to say it was okay you found a zombie standing beside you dressed as a butler; he held out a golden tray, of course silver would be off the menu, and on it was what could only be described as a grand - at least from afar - goblet next to a large wine glass. ‘Thank you, my humble helper, this will greatly help until I may have a taste- er, a toast, with our guest,’ he told the man, who loudly groaned and walked off as soon as the drinks were taken.

You could smell that it was simply fruit punch, but the colour was darker, probably deepend with food colouring, they really were the real deal. He held up his goblet while everyone stared, and you ignored them all as you tapped the rim of your glass against his own before taking a small sip. He seemed pleased, and in one swift movement he set down his goblet, crossed his legs, and adjusted his cape with another grand flourish.

‘Now that our thirsts have been quenched, let us partake in this delectable first short film to start off the night, a fearful story about what happens when love takes a desperate turn,’ he told the cameras dramatically, and the TV flickered to life to show everyone the short in question. ‘You're doing wonderful, my Myotis,’ he whispered to you as the short’s audio was blasted through the room, a secondary screen dropping down to reveal a projector hiding above the chandelier so everyone else could watch.

‘Your what?’ you whispered back in confusion, but he either didn't hear you or ignored the question.

‘By the way, since I was so very entranced by your eyes when we met, I forgot to ask what you would like to be called during our gathering, do you have any special name prepared?’

‘Uh, no, not really,’ you chuckled awkwardly, something like that hadn't even been close to being on your mind.

‘I shall name you like the day you were born, then, something chilling but also fitting of your beauty, your charm,’ he offered, still hamming it up even though only you could hear, and you wondered for a moment if maybe this was just… how he always was, this wasn't an act for the cameras.

‘Okay, shock and awe me,’ you agreed as you took another sip of ‘blood’, and his eyes shone in the firelight as he quickly started to think up something befitting of you; he was silly, and so over the top you knew you could never match this energy, but he was also strangely endearing in a way, a childlike wonder and love for all of this setting him apart from everyone else watching so intently before you, and you could see why people came to the streams, not just watched them at home.

The short ended and you actually didn't notice at first until the credits were over and the screen rose again, the film ended on the TV as well as it switched back to the atmospheric static. ‘Wasn't that frightening, my Fiends? Trading the senses just to keep love, choosing the heart of another over being able to ever see them again, have you ever seen anything more romantic?’ Of course no one answered, and in the audience you saw your friend eating all of this up along with the complimentary snacks that came with being the ‘winner's guest’. ‘Ah, but we are not here for romance, we're here for the darkness within us all to be shared, exposed, torn open and put on display like an embalmed, still-beating heart,’ he continued as he covered the lower half of his face with his cape dramatically. ‘Of course, having met our guest tonight, I might finally understand what that kind of devotion might drive someone to, wouldn't you agree?’

The sound of a beating heart pulsed through the speakers, and he stared at you until you met his eye and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, his mouth still hidden. You tried not to laugh, a bit of a chuckle still escaping, and he still took it and held his hands over his heart as he leaned back in his chair.

‘Like music to my ears, but again, we are not here for love, we are here for fear, terror, maybe even a bit of pain for those so inclined-’ Another eyebrow raise, apparently he was the one inclined. ‘-so allow my devilish date to introduce our next short after a quick message from our benefactors.’ You assumed that was his term for the channel's sponsors, and sure enough someone else came back out to talk about some product they were being pushed to promote off to your right, the camera turning to their section of stage while they talked. This allowed you both another moment to talk, and he handed you a card with the next short’s title as well as some information about it as soon as you were out of sight. ‘Memorize this, the way you've already memorized my very soul, my enticing incubus,’ he told you, and this time you couldn't hide your laugh.

‘Okay,’ was all you had to say to that one as you stifled your surprised snickers, the card small and to the point with its words as such.

‘I must say, with the way you wrote that letter to me, I expected more conversation with you, perhaps you are too overwhelmed by my presence to speak? I apologize if so, I never intended to strike you speechless when it is you who steals the words from my very throat until I cannot breathe,’ he continued as he leaned in, his goblet in hand and faintly staining his pale lips a little more red as he sipped again. You shot your friend a glance, of course your personalities would come off as so different, and you didn't want to get him disqualified at the last second when he was so looking forward to his upcoming date.

‘Guess I'm a bit camera shy,’ you didn't exactly lie, and he let out a long, ‘Ahhhhh~’ in understanding as he turned to watch the device film his co-worker.

‘I, too, used to fear the camera, I worried that it wouldn't be able to record me so my dreams of being a horror host would be dashed, but do not fret, my charming cadaver, I can attest that it is more afraid of you than you are of it, you are doing just fine.’ Despite the flowery - weedy? - language you had to admit that he sounded genuine in his advice, and you nodded to yourself as the sponsor finished up and the two of you prepared to be focused on again.

‘Thanks, I think I'm ready now,’ you whispered to him just before the audience was staring at you again, and you took a bigger sip to steel your nerves and held the card in your hand just out of view.

‘Wasn't that hypnotizing, I feel the need to go to their digital address and present them with the phrase my associate has just shared so generously with you all.’ He wasted no time in getting back to it, he couldn’t afford to when they still needed to get to the movie before it got too late. ‘Now, it is time for our surprise second tale of sorrow, if you'll allow my guest to tell you all about it, the horrifying, the enchanting, the anticipated… Lord Dullahan~’

Your eyebrows raised, naming you after the Headless Horseman despite having a head was a bold move, and you stole a glance at your friend and channeled all of his energy as you sucked in a deep breath and felt the atmosphere settle into your bones. ‘Good evening, as a great enjoyer of the strange and unusual, I find myself quite at home here, my dear Fearless,’ you said as grandly as you could, making sure to project your voice loud so it could be picked up by not only the boom mic high above but also the audience, and your friend gave you two thumbs up before delving back into his popcorn with a big smile.

Fearless, on the other hand, looked positively surprised by you, and you swore you might've seen actual hearts - medically accurate ones at that - in his eyes as he stood up and fell to one knee in front of the TV with a large swish of his cape behind him, his hand finding yours before you could blink.

‘The pleasure is all mine to host you, my dear Dullahan,’ he said like you were the only two in the room, briefly losing himself in the bit it seemed, and the person manning the soundboard thought now would be a perfect time to make use of that beating heart cue again. You heard your friend snicker so you doubled down and kissed his hand before pulling yours away to take another sip, going for a more mysterious air after your long silence in front of everyone else. You couldn't be sure under the lights and his makeup but it almost looked like his cheeks flushed a bit at the gesture, and you grinned at the taste of his own medicine before going back to your little ‘script’.

‘While the storm rages outside, why don't you join us by this warm fire while we watch a tale about what happens when you try to cheat death, and how you might just get exactly the answers you've been looking for along the way.’ You had no cape, but you still hid your face the same way he had, and when you glanced down and saw him still kneeling there you swore that he might actually think you were his soulmate with how genuinely in love he looked, he was a damn good actor under all the camp. ‘Doctor, I believe our guests might not be able to partake along with us as long as you’re down there, would you prefer to watch from your seat, or mine?’

This one threw him through a loop greater than he’d done to you, and when he looked unable to answer, his hands hovering over your own, your knee, his eyes never leaving your own, you then channeled every vampire movie you’d ever seen; you pet him under the chin, dragging your finger across his jaw to his chin in order to make him stand, and he did so easily he might actually be hypnotized, you had to give it to him for selling all this so seamlessly. Just when he looked ready to sit, you stood as well and took his seat, giving him yours to finish the bit, and the TV sparked back to life as he sat down and watched you instead of the screen. Behind you, the short played again just over your heads, and you nearly drank from his goblet before realizing that yours was still on the opposite table.

‘An indirect kiss from you would be like a dream, a nightmare on a stormy night, such bliss you could give me,’ he whispered as he went to drink from your own, and you shook your head and exchanged it back without distracting the audience too much from the film.

‘Sorry, maybe next time,’ you joked, your throat surprisingly dry even after such little speaking. ‘You’re good at improv, sorry for nearly derailing things, by the way.’

He shook his head, his disappointment over the kiss looking a little too real as he set his goblet back down on the other table. ‘Do not trouble yourself over such a trivial thing, none have ever rendered me as silent as the grave as you have, I fear it is my head that may roll by the end of the night,’ he waxed poetically at you, still hamming it up before a new disappointment showed on his face. ‘Ah, but alas, I may never get that privilege, you’re to leave me once the film begins, are you not?’

You paused, you’d almost forgotten about that part, in fact your friend was already starting to gather up his many wrappers and stuff them into the now empty popcorn bag, the flashing lights shining on him in his seat. You frowned, this was too much fun, more than you expected it to be, and you motioned for him to lean in; he eagerly did, his eyes wide and looking pitch black instead of brown in the darkness no matter how close he came to you. ‘Would I be able to stay for the film? I mean, I can move to the audience somewhere, or to the floor if there’s no room, I’ve just… never done anything like this before, I don’t want to leave, not right away, at least?’

He almost broke character as he actually looked away from you and to the people in the glass-partitioned studio where his live editor and director sat, and he had a wordless conversation with them in front of you while the audience focused on the scifi hell going on behind you. When he looked back he was himself again, or Fearless, more rather, and he reached across the TV’s expanse in search of your hand. You humoured him as thanks, and he nodded his head, already coming up with his next lines no doubt as the film above finished up.

‘How terrifying, again we’ve seen what lengths we will go to for love, and what harm we will bring to those in the way of those lengths,’ he said as soon as the screen was raised again, and you nodded at the camera and crossed your legs, his chair definitely more comfy than your own had been despite being the same.

‘Would you ever go to such lengths for love, Doctor?’ you asked in order to keep your presence worth it, and again he tripped over his own tongue as he gazed over to you.

‘I shall tonight, if anyone dares separate us before midnight,’ he threatened playfully with a theatrical wave of his hands, a subtle warning to those behind the glass after his conversation with them. ‘Speaking of, the clock is about to strike, soon it will be October, and I cannot think of better company to start off the season of witches and werewolves and welcome my fellow vampires back into the harvest moonlight.’ He stood and gave his audience a bow, a chorus of bats nearly making you jump as he dipped down low. ‘The time is upon us now, the countdown begins, and so I shall have to bid my guest adieu so we may partake in our grand finale of the evening; Lord Dullahan, if you’d please?’

He extended his hand back to you, and you tried to hide your disappointment as you took it, only for him to get you one last time; he drew you close and lowered his face into your neck, not actually biting you but still startling you enough to make you cling to him in a not so unpleasant fear. Your eyes widened as you sucked in a shaky breath, your fingers digging in what had to be uncomfortably into his bicep and shoulder, and you heard him chuckle before you realized what was going on and you fell limp in his arms.

‘A creature so lovely cannot be permitted to leave this castle alive! Forgive me, my innocent Dullahan, I could not resist the sweet call of your blood, your heartbeat, the way I had to feel it pulse under my piercing fangs… I swear I shall care for you here, this castle will forever be your home, and you will forever be mine!’ You pretended to look drowsily up at him, your grip returning to his arms since you’d gone a bit too limp and there was now a very real chance of him dropping you on the floor in front of everyone. You rubbed at your neck and winced, and when you brought your hand up you showed the red from your obscured glass now staining your fingers to finish selling it.

‘Whatever you desire, Master,’ you slurred, knowing that that kind of title usually went along with these kinds of situations, and you watched in stunned silence as the soundboard accidentally sent out what could only be described as a cartoonish boing sound before the correct sound of thunder crashed instead. Fearless hid his face as he bit his lip, his shoulders tensing as the soundboard operator was wildly chastised behind the glass, and you hid your face in his shoulder until your own laughing stopped.

‘Very good, I knew I chose well,’ he continued after a brief moment of almost losing it, and you blew out a quick breath and let him help you stand, the loud song of a clock chiming letting you know that it was now midnight. ‘The clock tower! Hear its chimes, and know that midnight is upon us!’ he called out to everyone, and you weren’t surprised as everyone actually joined in on the countdown. As they slowly called out the numbers, Fearless grabbed your drink and handed it back to you, your arms hooked now that you guessed you were his, and when it struck midnight you both drank until your glasses were empty.

You frowned at the taste, that wasn't your fruit punch, and you noticed in the confusion that he’d actually handed you his own, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as you tasted actual wine, guess the colour wasn't just for show in his case.

‘An indirect kiss was indeed such a dream, what bliss,’ he repeated, and you felt your face grow just as red as the liquid in his goblet at how low his voice had become. ‘And now, our grand finale of the evening to start off our marathon to Halloween starting tomorrow night, featuring a marathon of horror as voted by you all out there. So, grab some wine, or blood, of your own, maybe find something tasty to bite into while you watch, as I present to you: The Creature Walks Among Us~’

The screen lowered for the final time, the audience getting up to replenish their snacks for the movie as the opening credits rolled, and your friend quickly threw out his trash and jogged over to you. ‘Great work, I knew you’d be a natural up there, let’s grab those tickets and head out, I’ve already seen this one a million times,’ he said excitedly as the producer came out with an envelope, Fearless finally leaving your side to go get it to present to you.

‘Yeah, actually I think I’m gunna stay,’ you confessed, and he looked between you and your host before something sly showed on his face.

‘For you, my dear Du- forgive me, I suppose you don’t need that title away from our other guests,’ Fearless said almost nervously as he approached with ‘your’ gift, and your friend snatched it from you the second it was placed into your hands.

‘Thanks so much, this was fantastic, I had a real blast tonight, I hope you two enjoy the movie, I know I sure will,’ he told you cheekily before rushing out, probably in the worry that someone might take them back from him, and you waved at his back a moment before turning back to Fearless.

‘Shall I grab a seat now that his is free? I’ve never seen this one before,’ you asked, and he glanced over to it before wrapping his arm - and cape - around your shoulders; he waved aside the solo guy taking up the couch and had him move to your friend’s vacant chair, and the short woman from before brought you a tray filled with complimentary snacks as you both sat down next to each other. She asked for your favourite drink, his already poured into a decorative glass shaped like a skeleton, clearly he also preferred to watch the movie from over here, and he let you sit against him as your own drink was brought over in a glass shaped like a bat curled around a branch. ‘Fancy, you do this with all your prize winners?’

‘No, just you,’ he whispered, and for a moment you actually looked around to see who’d spoken until it hit you that it was him, without the heavy accent. ‘Our mics are off, we can talk a little more normally while this is playing, unless you prefer Fearless?’ he asked, his voice changing back at the end, and you just blinked at him before grabbing some popcorn.

‘And who might you be, if not my dear Dr. Fearless?’ you teased, and this time you were sure he blushed as he let out a small yet nervous laugh.

‘Dwight, actually, and you are?’ You went to say your own name before you stopped, tried to say your friend’s instead, and he shook his head and held up a hand to get you to stop. ‘I figured it out a while ago, but I knew for sure when you said you’d never seen it after singing its praises in the letter,’ he chuckled, and you cringed and sat up a little straighter.

‘I’m sorry, he was really excited for the tickets he’s just- terrible with being put on the spot, I swear he actually is a fan,’ you explained quickly, Dwight looking you over as his face almost changed into someone different; it was then you noticed he’d taken out his fangs so he could enjoy the snacks, and the cute goofiness suddenly transformed into rather handsomeness even with the wig.

‘And you’re not, judging on how you acted with me tonight,’ he confirmed, and you could only nod. ‘But you are now, I take it, after the show you gave everyone?’

‘I might be swayed, you did turn me, after all,’ you joked, Dwight’s eyes drifting to your neck like he might actually try again. ‘The constant love confessions were a surprise though, he didn’t warn me about those when he got me to come on here.’

‘Not a surprise to me, seeing as they were all genuine,’ he said simply before taking a drink, the opening credits finally over as everyone sat back down again to enjoy the film.

‘They were-?’

‘Even if I could tell you weren’t the soulmate I thought you might be in his letter, I must say that I did wanna get to know you, all the same,’ he admitted before hiding himself in a big bite of chocolate, and you thought over everything he’d said the past almost hour as your heart raced a little faster. It was silly, and over the top, and you still had no idea what a Myotis was, but you couldn’t deny that this creature beside you was not only silly but also fascinating, and you sat a little closer to him as you reached across his lap to grab his drink.

‘What was it you said? “An indirect kiss would be bliss”?’ you wondered before taking a sip, his real front teeth biting into his bottom lip as he watched. You gave him your name along with his drink, and you finally saw how your strange luck had struck once again as he offered you a bite of chocolate to go along with your handful of popcorn, the movie barely holding your attention as the two of you whispered to each other all throughout it.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #dr fearless #dr fearless x reader

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unpredictable-probabilities · 2 days

Text

Intertwining Symphonies || Chapter 1: Sunday at the Park with Robyn

Summary:

A small mishap at the park leads to new friendships and an invitation.

Note:

I originally wrote this as a gift to @patchyegg87 <3

I hope you like it, too!

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,293

Square/Prompt: B2 - Free Space | @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Family, Family Fluff, Ice Cream, Friendship, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Kid Fic, Single Parents

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59036896

—

“Can I get both vanilla and chocolate?” Robyn was practically bouncing on his heels, barely holding himself still enough to stay in the queue with Hob.

“Of course, duck,” Hob smiled at the sight of his son still bursting at the seams with energy even after running around the park for almost an hour already.

Hob had packed the usual snacks for Robyn, but today an ice cream truck stopped by and his son practically dragged him over.

It was finally their turn to place their order, and Hob ordered a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate in the biggest cone size available.

As he got his wallet from his pocket, something blunt hit the back of his head.

“Ow!” Hob instinctively put a hand up to where the pain was beginning to sting and turned around to see what happened.

A man wearing a black shirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows was jogging towards them. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said in a voice deeper than Hob would have expected and picked up a blue plastic Frisbee from the ground. “My son and I had been playing. Please, let me pay for the ice cream,” he took his wallet out.

“What? No, that’s not necessary,” Hob quickly paid for it himself and handed the cone to Robyn.

“Are you okay, dad?” Robyn asked in concern as he took it.

“Yeah, no harm done,” Hob smiled at his son before turning to the man. “Really, it’s alright.”

Their small group moved to the side when other people queued up at the truck, then a boy with fair skin and raven hair ran up to the man and partially hid behind him, peeking up at Hob.

“I’m sorry, Mister,” he mumbled.

“This is my son,” the man put a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s our first time playing Frisbee and I’m afraid we require much practice.”

“I didn’t mean to throw it so far,” the boy looked down at his shoes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hob said reassuringly. “My son hit me with a baseball once while we were playing. That’s just part of it.”

“Ooh! Can we play Frisbee with them, dad?” Robyn asked through a mouthful of chocolate ice cream. “We’ve never played that before.”

Hob looked at the man questioningly. Robyn had played with other kids at the park before, but none of them looked as shy as the boy did.

The man looked down at his son. “What do you say, dove? Would you like to play with them?”

The boy nodded with a small smile. “Yes. I would.”

“Yay!” Robyn cheered, raising his arms in the air.

“Hey, careful not to spill your ice cream,” Hob chided fondly.

“I’m Morpheus,” the man held out his hand. “This is my son Orpheus. And yes, I am aware of our awfully similar names,” he smiled.

Hob shook the man’s hand and returned the smile. “That just means it’ll be easier for me to remember. I’m Hob, and this is Robyn.”

“Robyn with a Y!” Robyn declared, already halfway through his ice cream cone. “I know a spot where we can have lots of room to play. Come on, before the other kids arrive!” He ran off towards a clearing in the park.

Orpheus looked up at his father questioningly, who smiled and nodded. Then the boy took off after Robyn.

“You’ve really never played Frisbee before with your son?” Morpheus asked as they followed their kids at a more leisurely place while keeping them in sight.

Hob shook his head. “Nope. We played catch and baseball, but we haven’t tried Frisbee yet. What games do you and Orpheus usually play?”

Morpheus fell silent for a moment, his long eyelashes catching the light of the sun as he blinked. “I have not had much opportunity to spend time with him. Until recently. All games are still new to us.”

Hob could sense that there was a story there, but he had no business prying so he just offered an encouraging smile. “Great, there’s a lot to discover. Let’s start with Frisbee.”

So they did; Hob and Robyn against Morpheus and Orpheus.

It seemed that Orpheus had already learned a great deal from his mistake earlier, as he was much better at it now and the disc rarely got too far away whenever it was his turn to throw.

Robyn was the better catcher. He had more than enough energy to dive and jump just to catch the disc, though he often got too excited whenever it was his turn to throw and his aim went wide.

Hob and Morpheus weren’t much good at either throwing or catching, but their children didn't mind and in fact even evidently enjoyed seeing their dads fumble.

Hob shared the biscuits and fruit juices that he packed, which kept up morale and started a conversation between Robyn and Orpheus about their favourite snacks.

Afterwards, Hob and Morpheus sat on a bench to catch their breaths while their children played with the others at the playground.

“I cannot remember the last time I ran around so much,” Morpheus said before taking a sip from a water bottle. “Children truly have an indefinite repository of energy.”

Hob chuckled, wiping sweat from his forehead with a hand towel that he always brought whenever going to the park. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m glad that those two are getting along well, though.”

Morpheus nodded. “Indeed. It is good to see Orpheus so cheerful.” A soft smile appeared on his face as he watched his son laugh brightly while on the seesaw with Robyn.

“He would remember this, you know,” Hob told him. “You brought him to this park. He would ask you again, and you’d have more time to spend together.”

“I certainly hope so. After the divorce, I got so caught up in my work that he often stayed with his mother. It’s only recently that I…” Morpheus trailed off, fidgeting with the bottle cap. “I apologise. I do not intend to spring this all upon you.”

“Nothing to apologise for,” Hob reassured him. “I’m divorced with Robyn’s mom too, and at first it was challenging to figure it all out. But you’ll get there.”

Morpheus looked at him, then at his backpack of provisions. “You seem to be rather well-adjusted now.”

Hob chuckled. “It just takes practice, my friend.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly to the side. “We are… friends?”

“Um…” Hob blinked. “Yeah, if you want to?”

“Dad!” Robyn came running towards them, towing Orpheus in hand. “Can I invite Orpheus to my birthday next week? I wanna show him my comics!”

Morpheus turned to Hob in surprise, looking just as uncertain as Hob felt when Robyn asked if they could all play Frisbee.

“Of course you can, duck,” Hob smiled at his son and Morpheus. “Orpheus can bring anything he wants to show you, too.”

“Father!” Orpheus’ face brightened as he seemed to realise something. “I wish to have Robyn listen to our song! He said they have a piano!”

“Oh I can’t play it,” Hob quickly said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s my mum’s. We have it in our house because she was a pianist, and she still likes to play whenever she visits.”

Morpheus’ expression was fond. “I play the piano as well. If you would allow it, I can play Orpheus’ song so he may have Robyn listen to it.”

“Sure, no problem!” Hob said perhaps a little too enthusiastically. He loved music, and shared Robyn’s excitement with making new friends. “Um, should we exchange numbers, then? I’ll text you the address.”

“Of course,” Morpheus smiled as he took out his phone. “It’s what friends do, is it not?”

—

Note:

Probably the most chill Dreamling fic I've written so far. They deserve to relax and have fun every once in a while~

Chapter title is from the musical "Sunday at the Park with George".

—

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

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