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jo-harrington · 3 months ago

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Solamen. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie--separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Violence, Gore, Disturbing Imagery, Philosophical Ideas, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: Special thanks to @somnambulic-thing for listen to me as I tied myself into a knot with all of my Pepe Silvia string and helping me untie it all. Love you so very much.

AND IM NOT GONNA TAG HIM BECAUSE HOW EMBARRASSING but thanks Mike Flanagan for the "a ghost is a wish" line that I absolutely ripped off.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

"That's just the heart talking, you can never trust those. Pick a more stable organ to listen to, like the spleen, or the gallbladder." - Joan Tierney

November 6, 1983

Eddie woke to something tugging at his leg, pinching the flesh between deft fingers, but not piercing the skin.

Then whispers.

Unintelligible whispers that moved about him fluidly, like a wave. Maybe it was a wave because a sudden flood of memories, both good and bad, rushed over him; nightmares perhaps? They almost didn't feel like they were even his, but he knew that they were.

Driving the van for the first time, his first campaign as a DM, your first kiss.

He felt as though he was underwater.

Underwater, something biting him, tear-filled words as he lay dying in the desolate waste of the Upside Down.

“Eddie, wake up,” you whispered frantically in his ear.

He heard his own voice then. Or a memory of it, at least.

I don’t like this Chrissy, wake up! Flashing lights, snapping bones, and a sickening wet crunch.

He gasped as his consciousness slammed into him heavily, the remnants of fear from his past life ripping through the din to bring him back to the waking world.

The memories of falling and crashing soon followed and he observed his surroundings.

A crater.

It was the only way to describe the pit he’d created upon impact. A large divot in the ground with a lip of toxic earth and his body curled at the bottom, and as he forced his body to crawl out of it, he saw the spray of soil that had rained over the surrounding landscape.

And what a strange landscape it was.

Empty.

There was nothing as far as the eye could see in any direction. Just a flat, silty plain and a roiling, lightning-filled sky.

There were no creatures, no trees...he couldn't even see Hawkins, which he recalled flying over before he'd been struck by, well, whatever that was that knocked him out.

He'd been soaring over treetops, calling out to the bats to join him.

How had he ended up in such a vast emptiness as this?

The whispers returned, a ripple of them that shifted and moved around him, the source invisible. He growled instinctively, hackles raised; was someone or something trying to intimidate him? The rebellious beings that turned against their master? Had they learned a new trick?

Or was this something else? He already had one invisible enemy, one pest that tried to undermine Henry at every turn. Was this trap by your design?

The whispers closed in on him--he could feel them even if he couldn't see them, in numbers immeasurable--and he roared in warning, spittle flying from his mouth as his jaw unhinged, and the chittering blast of sound echoed into the void space.

He startled when your lips caressed his ear and the weight of you settled against his back, arms winding around his neck to hold him back.

"We need to go," you warned him, but he just hissed at you.

The whispers got louder, closer. From the din, he started to make out voices. Familiar voices. More memories. Talking to him, begging him.

Chrissy at the picnic table.

Patrick calling him a freak in the hallway.

Mr. Newby excitedly telling him about a new stereo he saved up for a year to buy.

They all chanted his name, just like you did. It swirled around him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie help us. Please help us.

"Eddie listen to me," you tried again. "We need to go."

He roared again, and felt triumphant when the whispers went silent.

But there was one last whisper, one more phantom, that was bold. Brave. He felt it walk right up to him. Tall, proud, toe to toe, nose to nose; it stretched to match his height.

He growled to intimidate it but felt it square itself resolutely. You tightened your arms around his neck, almost to hold him back.

"Don't," you told him, but it was too late.

He slashed a claw outwards to try and bat the whispering phantom away. He cut through it and felt the whoosh of air between his talons.

And must have been a trick of the light, a trick of the mind--one of your tricks--but there was a flash of a reflection of his own eyes right before him. Staring into his soul.

He blinked and it was gone.

You tightened your grip, then sighed and sunk through him, into him, back into the pit once more.

He was about to gloat, about to taunt you--he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore, he wasn't going to fall for your little games--but it was cut short as a roar that rivaled his in strength and volume echoed from just beyond the horizon.

Determined, he took to the skies again, ready to put an end to whatever other tricks you orchestrated so he could return to his master, victorious.

November 14, 1986

When you came to, you were on the ground.

Not tied up or restrained in any way.

In fact, when you finally got a good hold of your senses, you realized you weren't wearing any clothes either.

"What the...what the fuck?" You startled yourself into a sitting position and looked down at your faded Maidenform bra and Hanes Her Way underwear that you got on clearance at K-mart with Eddie oh so long ago.

You jumped as he suddenly appeared before you--the anger at your unconsented state of undress forgotten--ghastly and ghostly, looking like he did when you jumped into the passenger's seat of the van. Smug smile, love in his eyes, hair mussed from too much headbanging.

"Did you get me anything?" his voice echoed. He wiggled his fingers like he had when he tried to peek inside of your plastic shopping bag, where you did indeed have candy for him.

You didn't even have a chance to wrench your eyes shut, so shocked that you were to see him there, before he vanished.

Your heartbeat roared in your ears as your breathing became rapid and shallow. Your eyes darted around to try and find him once again, as though he'd simply transmuted somewhere behind you--you were used to his vanishing acts...his unseen presence, but this? This was different—you knew that immediately—but found yourself alone.

Alone in a cold, dark room with only the moonlight above to illuminate the dirt floor and dead ivy that climbed the stone walls. You could hear the chittering of bugs and flapping wings of bats in the dark; creatures of unknown origin lurking in the darkness, waiting to strike.

You realized where you were rather quickly--

The vision that the boy had shown you. The cell. The Harrowing.

--and knew that you needed to find a way out immediately.

The witches had already gotten some sort of advantage by capturing you; you wouldn't let them kill you too. You would die on your own terms when you were good and ready.

You shifted to a kneeling position and reached down to let your hands scrape along the dirt floor. You cast yourself forward, consciousness seeping into the Earth to try and find a break in the stone. You knew there must be a door here...it was just too dark to see.

"Show me," you demanded.

"Show you?" Another voice rasped from the shadows. "What's the use when you refuse to look?"

It was not Eddie's voice this time, and pain lanced through your chest, directly into your heart as you recognized it.

Your eyes watered as you fought the urge to look up, as a figure leaned into the moonlight in the corner of your eye. Grey hair, weathered skin, a delicate golden crucifix around her neck. You knew your Nonna wasn't there; no, you watched them put her body behind a wall. Felt a part of her soul settle there, to rest, for eternity.

You didn’t look up, steeled yourself for the fact that even though it sounded like her, it couldn’t be her. She was gone. She was dead. As much as it pained you to acknowledge.

Nonna was gone. Eddie was gone. You were alone. And no one was going to save you here unless you saved yourself.

You shook and dug your fingernails into the dirt, demanding the very stone around show you the way out, all while Nonna's phantom spouted chastising words, about how you never listened to her when she told you to pray and repent and thank God for this and that.

"Your eyes can deceive you," you muttered aloud as a reminder. "Don't trust them."

Nonna inched closer and closer to you, and your breath hitched as you felt the softness of her hand as she reached out and cupped your cheek. You shut your eyes and leaned into it for a moment; it felt just like her hand.

Gentle but calloused from years of labor, you swore you even felt the indentation in her fingers from the beads of the rosary she usually had clutched in her hands.

Maybe if you wished hard enough…

"Tesoro…amore…prayer won't help you here," she tutted.

You grit your teeth in anger and clenched your hands, nails splintering against the hard ground. Your eyes opened to stare straight ahead of you into the darkness.

“My grandmother went and saw Star Wars with me in the theater, you know.” You spoke with as much confidence as you could muster. The softness of Nonna’s hand vanished, as did she. “She was well-versed in the ways of the Force.”

You stared into the darkness, unblinking, and waited.

And waited.

Finally the darkness broke and a heavy wooden door opened, creaking inwards towards you, until light cascaded into the cell and revealed a man with slicked-back hair and elfin features. His eyes were like fire as he stared down at you, hatred and challenge burned there.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he sneered judgmentally. “Many minds have been broken by this place.”

“What do they say about tv melting your brain?” you spat right back at him. "I've watched too much; my mind is already gone."

He chuckled darkly.

“I wouldn’t know such mortal mechanisms as…teevee.”

“Oh you’re one of those kinds of witches.”

“Warlock,” he corrected. He was one of those kinds of men too. You wondered, disgusted, if he stripped you of your clothes himself to get a kick of your potential humiliation. Or if even that was above him. “And what might you be?”

“I’m a pain in the ass,” you smiled mockingly. “You should have just slit my throat if you wanted to kill me. Or is that too much of a mortal mechanism too?”

He swiftly lowered himself to kneel in front of you, black clothes billowing, and grabbed your face in one hand. His sharp nails dug into your cheeks viciously, drawing blood if the telltale pinch was anything to go by.

You felt him pull truths from you, information ingrained in your blood--Jinette, the Knights, the curse, your mission, Edward Spellman. It might have alarmed you, how easily he was taking it, but it was such a simple trick.

Two could play at that game.

You watched and waited as his eyes became unfocused, as he lost control taking thoughts and memories from you. Then, when he was nice and distracted, you reared back and punched him across that sharp cheekbone and nose, putting all of your heavenly force into it.

He let go of you at the impact and fell to the side, but you got what you needed. A little bit of blood smeared across your knuckles.

And then you saw.

The man--Faustus Blackwood--the Church of Night, the Academy of Unseen Arts, the Witches of Greendale and their historic persecution, the Dark Baptisms. And at the epitome of it all...two figures standing head to head…

A roar outside the door of the cell broke you from your thoughts and you froze, knowing.

Blackwood abruptly got to his feet and spat blood at you as he sneered, "I would kill you for that...but you’re worth more alive than dead, unfortunately.”

He stormed out of the cell without any other hesitation, and you were alone again.

Waiting. Anticipating.

There was no need for intimidation tactics really, but he apparently had an affinity for drama.

He stepped into the light and you saw the cloven hoof on one leg, the very human-like torso draped in a billowing black cloak, and the goat-like head with ears that twitched as he laid his eyes on you.

You had to admit, your emotions spiked a little bit at the sight, and as the door to the cell slammed shut behind him. Fear, confusion, annoyance, and that ever-present feeling of grief.

Maybe those were just the things that made you up as a person. Instead of joy or anything l truly good. He brought them right to the surface; not like you could lie to him.

Well, you were probably not as afraid as you should have been. You knew that. And he did too, as you swore you heard a snort from him.

But it wasn't every day that you faced your fate.

It wasn't every day you found yourself face to face with the Devil.

"Took you long enough," you greeted.

November 6, 1983

He flew for as long as he could and then pushed himself to fly further, following the massive roar until it became the constant din of roars and chitters and screeches--many beasts voices combined to form one.

He flew until he found something again in the barren void in the outskirts of the Upside Down.

It was surprising to find that there wasn't even a blue tinge to the sky anymore out here, but instead a dingy yellow hue. Glowing and golden, with, what he believed to be, shooting stars soaring across the murky atmosphere. Where he'd gotten used to order and obedience in the mirrored version of Hawkins, this...this...was wild and untamed.

It was full of possibility and promise.

For a brief moment, deep down inside, right next to where you resided in the pit, curiosity bloomed.

Was this the potential that the Upside Down had when it wasn't wrangled and tethered by Henry? Was this the potential that he had?

He snarled at the intrusive thought, sure that you were the cause of it; he needed to focus, to stay loyal to Henry. He had a job to do here; he had to restore order.

He powered onwards and soared over a crowd of creatures on the uneven ground below. They were emaciated and writhing, howling and digging and fighting.

It wasn't like the playful or bored fights he witnessed at the quarry; this was a survival of the fittest. Limbs were ripped off, throats torn, blood shed. And the winner had the explicit honor of absorbing the writhing mass of parts that the loser left behind.

Off in the distance he could see the partially formed behemoth of a creature. No life breathed into it yet, just a lump of meat with one leg here and a malformed head.

Images flashed in his mind, courtesy of Henry, of the Mindflayer forming from citizens of Hawkins. Their flesh melted to form the beast, just like his brethren below melted into one another to form a new Mindflayer.

Just like they'd sacrificed themselves for his new form.

He felt electricity deep within his flesh, his bones, his wings as like called to like.

He couldn't help but feel some sort of betrayal; its origins were unknown and he couldn't quite discern what the feeling meant.

Was it a betrayal of the creatures who used to believe Henry to be their leader, who sacrificed themselves for him?

Or a betrayal within himself? The pieces of him that had been graciously given knew that he was a part of their flock, their swarm...the blood that kept his heart beating and his hunger at bay was the same as theirs...but he'd chosen Henry over them...

"Is that what they feel?" your question echoed within him, radiating from the depths of the pit outwards, to the very tips of his talons and back. It shook him to the core. "Or is that what you feel?"

However, he ignored you as he dropped to the ground, dry earth cracking beneath his feet, and let out a deafening, screeching cry to bring the mass of creatures to order.

The hive mind was still unavailable to him--to all of them, it seemed--but he was still the strongest of them all, the most dangerous predator. They all stilled at his call, like a shockwave radiating outwards from him.

He turned on his heel, glaring at the massive congregation of creatures. Some of the dogs pawed at the ground; the petal-like heads of the demogorgons opened and closed at will, blood dripping from the thousands of teeth embedded in their maws. He didn’t need the hive mind to know what they were thinking, considering; he knew what it looked like when they were gearing up for an attack.

He snarled at them all, chastising them, warning them...

One warning; it was all they got. Just like his uncle used to tell him.

But one stupid creature got the courage to challenge him and it roared, a shrill sound from somewhere beyond his line of sight, and the others soon followed. Until he was surrounded by another cacophony of sound that caused the air to vibrate and the ground to rumble.

There was safety in numbers; he knew. He could overpower them individually without much trouble, but against the sheer mass of them? Could he win? Could he survive?

He dug his heels into the ground, tucked his wings tightly against his body, and hissed, accepting the challenge.

He silently apologized to Henry as he considered that this would be the most fun he would have in the Upside Down since he and Dustin had their…

His thoughts were cut short as one of the dogs raced towards him, mouth snapping, ready to strike. Only for him to strike first, claws cutting it to ribbons, easily tearing through its flesh until it thumped, dead in pieces on the ground around him.

Its comrades were soon to follow, a whole pack of them, and they got their pound of flesh out of him, biting and dragging their teeth into him. They sent his black blood spilling onto the ground with the wounds they inflicted. He powered through the pain, knowing he would heal.

What was pain to him when he was reborn of pain? When Henry had inflicted unimaginable agony onto him only to build him back stronger again?

He picked them off his body one by one, like the vermin that they were, cursing their betrayal—they had been his friends, his family in this new life—as he tore them apart.

More attacked, until it was an endless barrage of bodies and claws and teeth looking to tear into him, which resulted in what could only be described as untethered carnage. When he tired, he stoked his hunger by drinking deeply from the wounds he inflicted on them, taking his fill until he was ready to keep fighting.

He was filled with the determination to keep going until the last creature was dead at his feet, and he would have...he would have done it...

If only he hadn't looked up at the sky.

And saw it looking back down at him.

November 14, 1986

Your vision blurred and the devil's visage wavered in and out.

From goat, to that of a man with beautiful, sculpted features and dark curls. Back and forth a few times, smiling ever so gently at you. Finally he decided on the image of a man for his temptation of you.

Funny that he wouldn't make himself look like Eddie or Nonna again if he wanted to do that.

The cell door slammed shut and he sat beside you on the ground; he said your name carefully, as though he was tasting a fine wine for the first time.

"You're a funny little creature," he observed with a chuckle, dark undertones accentuating the depth of his accented voice. "My own disciples fear me but you...hmmm...you fear something else, I think."

"You don't spend much time on Earth do you? A Mongolian Death Worm is scarier than a Goat Man," you reasoned.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"You fear yourself." Your expression fell and he held a hand out innocently. "It's ok, I feared myself too for a time. After I was cast out of Heaven. My father and brothers feared me, so I must also fear myself. But I came to find that I was just...willful, and they didn't like that one bit."

You thought of Gabriel and his annoying stoicism, how he tried to keep you aligned with what fate had in store for you.

"Yes, you seem to be exceptionally willful too." He hummed in agreement, as though he could hear your thoughts. Maybe he could. "You and your forebearers. That's why you've found yourselves in the predicament you're in."

He leaned closer to you, his nose practically touching yours. His image wavered once more, and you smelled the brimstone on him. Much heavier than it had with Edward Spellman.

"That's why you've found yourselves doomed to an eternity with me," he smiled amicably and then slowly leaned back. "Why not let it be on your own terms."

Your eyes darted between his, and you questioned whether or not you could trick the Devil, if you could win against him in this game.

And if you did, would he just strike you down in retaliation?

"What do you get in return?" you asked.

"Another soul devoted to me," he said simply. "Instead of one I'm forced to punish. I really like it when mortals pray to me; the power is actually quite nice."

He took a deep breath in, shoulders squaring as he lavished in some unseen dark power. Then he exhaled and squinted at you.

"I'm being merciful, you see, because, I win either way; you're still mine, in the end. But isn't corruption fun? The hellfire tickles when it touches you instead of melting the flesh off your bones like it's currently doing to dear old Dad."

His eyes narrowed further when you didn't react.

"Or to Eddie."

You must have visibly reacted, some kind of shudder or blink that made him relax and smile again.

"See, that got you listening," he nodded self-assuredly. "I can smell the stink of grief on you.”

You gritted your teeth at the pang in your heart; Eddie…he wasn’t in Hell. He couldn’t be.

But how could you be sure?

“And denial,” He continued. “Faustus could too, actually, and he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch. He doesn't have nearly as much power as he likes to pretend he does. He's losing control of his own congregation. They don't want to listen to him. No wonder you didn't fall prey to his torture either. No matter. You're here with me now."

The edges of the cell suddenly became alight with flames, a circle of them that trapped you and the Devil together.

They were not of this earth; you knew it immediately as they licked at your bare skin, but you gritted your teeth to the singe of pain that shot through you, refusing to move closer to him.

"Now, dear girl, what do you want?"

He tilted his head, and the motion felt strange and distorted. Contorted as it seemed to tilt further than a human's range of motion would allow.

"Do you simply want this curse gone? You can continue doing your good deeds on earth if you want, save the innocents. I don't mind. Oh that's a good bargain actually. Innocents slaughtered by darkness go to heaven; if you save them and they live to sin on their own, they'll end up with me. Let them suffer a little less so I can enjoy hearing them scream a little louder."

The longer you stayed near the fire though, the louder you heard screams of the damned from within it.

"Maybe you want revenge on those who put this silly curse on you in the first place. Your bishop friend hmm? Or whatever he is. We both know the dark deeds he's involved in."

Something wicked twinged within you, deep down in the little dark spot inside your soul. Your lips quirked as he projected images of Jinette screaming as you burned him alive.

You shook your head, physically trying to rid yourself of the thoughts.

No. You were good, you could break this curse yourself and you could still save people and you could make it to heaven. To Eddie.

"Ah, see, my mistake. How could I forget? How good is all of that," he asked knowingly. "When I'm forgetting something important? When there's something more delicious I can offer."

The devil's projections changed then. From revenge and damnation...to all of the decadent moments that you had with Eddie and then lost because of this stupid curse.

You whimpered at the thoughts, at the way they plucked at your heartstrings. Kisses and laughter and every secret, sweet moment between the two of you.

"Do you want your little boyfriend back?" he whispered. "The two of you could live forever with red vines and cherry pie and Dr. Pepper until the end of time. Immortality is something I offer all my disciples."

You felt your resolve weaken and tears built up in the corners of your eyes as you saw the two of you frolicking through the world until the end of the earth itself. You and Eddie and forever. You could almost reach out and touch it.

But how could he offer that to you if Eddie was beyond his grasp in Heaven. He had to be in Hell, as much as it destroyed you to believe.

"All you have to do," he held out his hand, "is say yes."

It would have been so easy to reach out and touch his hand, to ignore all of the red flags and to accept this offer. It was easy for all logic to leave you, all rational sense that you had. It was so tempting and you were so...so...tired.

But there was a small bit of movement in the corner of your eye, and you broke eye contact with the devil to see what he might have to show you now...only to find Gabriel there, hands held behind his back. He looked bored, like he usually did, and you almost felt smug at him having caught you like this.

You were tired. You were human. You weren't meant for these grand plans that fate had in store for you, that God seemingly had for you.

"Have you come to scold me?" you asked him wearily. "Or save me?"

"I'm here to prove that you still have much to learn," Gabriel sighed. “Very much to learn, it seems.”

Yes, you did...didn't you.

You snorted and hung your head in shame, finally allowing the tears to fall.

But the devil...the devil narrowed his eyes at you and turned to follow where your line of sight had been.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked with a snarl.

You scoffed and lifted your hand to gesture towards Gabriel.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed with faux excitement. "Family reunion."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, head darting back and forth between you and Gabriel.

Or rather, just left of Gabriel.

You watched as his head turned in confusion, as anger built up inside of him and the fires roared hotter, as his image darted in and out, in and out. Goat then man then something else...just a shadow.

Like the shadow that you'd seen in the woods.

You sniffed and wiped at your tears as you put two and two together. All of the inconsistencies that you ignored in the devil's stories, the misuses of names and symbols in the Academy, and now this...the fact that this so-called Lucifer--an archangel--might not be able to see Gabriel.

Devils lied, demons lied. They tricked and poisoned minds and hearts. They still had power and promises; this one had a whole slew of followers. He was their deity in one way or another, spoke as though he believed himself to be a fallen angel. Maybe he was a prince of Hell in some capacity, some pretending parasite whose ambition was the throne of the damned.

But was he the Devil himself? No.

None of these beliefs were as straightforward as they seemed; the universe was a riddle that you didn't have time or care enough to solve.

You also were a little rusty on your Lesser Key of Solomon.

Had he even known these things about your curse? About Nonna and Eddie? About your father and your knighthood? Or had it just been a simple skimming of your thoughts? Maybe even Blackwood's thoughts when he'd read your memories through your blood.

You thought back to the information you tried to ascertain from Blackwood in return.

A vision of this Dark Lord and Edward Spellman, some sort of disagreement between the two of them. Perhaps this devil was trying to get someone or something on his side to overcome Spellman's challenge.

That's all it took for it to click in your head.

Then you got angry. At this devil for his tricks, at Jinette for putting you in this mess without sufficient warning, and most of all…at yourself for falling for it all.

You looked back at Gabriel, unable to admit that you’d fucked up.

"Ok but you could have just saved me you know," you snarked at him instead.

Gabriel’s mouth quirked in his rendition of a smile. Some pseudo expression that made him seem human for a fraction of a second.

"It'll all make sense one day.” It was said the way a parent would to a curious toddler. Gabriel looked away from you to some middle distance, through the wall of the cell, and then gestured at the devil. "Would you like to take care of this?”

You rolled your eyes at him then pushed yourself to your feet, much to the protest of the devil, who simply conjured more hellfire to try and burn you alive.

You let it singe you, let it touch your skin to ignite the fire of your own. A spiteful, smiting fire, much like you had emitted the day you found out Eddie died.

"And if I told you he was alive?" the devil asked, shrinking away as you raised your hand to banish him. "Eddie. He's alive."

You hesitated but shook off any effect his lies had on you.

"Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue," you quoted and then leant closer to him to whisper. "That's Shakespeare, if you wanna tell your friend Blackwood to experience some mortal things before I come knocking again."

The hellfire licked at you again and from it you sparked a pure and holy flame, and with the heat and pressure of a supernova, the Witch's cell was consumed. All the dark corners were illuminated, the evil spirits that lurked there expelled, and you heard the devil scream as he was sent back to the depths of Hell once more.

You were alone when the fire dissipated.

Gabriel was gone.

Even Eddie’s ghost didn’t dare show himself, and you were grateful.

Your footing faltered and you fell against the wall of the cell, grateful for it to be over. You took several deep breaths before the pain and weariness in your body—in your soul—got the best of you.

Then you cried. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs echoed in the stone chamber, as you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and self soothe. This moment was for you. It was full of mourning and self-hatred and fear and relief that you hadn’t given in in that moment of weakness.

Your respite didn't last long, however, because the door to the cell creaked open again. You startled and scrambled to stand tall, confidently, unwilling to let the witches get the best of you again.

Only to find the kind eyes of Edward Spellman on the other side.

November 6, 1983

He stared in confusion, ignoring the bites and slashes from the masses around him, as the pair of eyes became more tangible in the rolling, smoky clouds up above. A flash of lighting was a blink...or maybe a glint of curiosity in their gold-and-shadowy depths.

Just eyes. Nothing else.

It was a curious thing.

They watched him.

And he watched them back.

It would be easy to blame you for this, just like he'd tried to convince himself to blame you for the whispers. But you were silent; no gloating or even warning.

Actually, if he paid attention, he could hear you hiding in the pit, little prayers being muttered fearfully.

There was a surge of protectiveness that shot through him at the realization that you were afraid. He figured that as annoying as you were to him, he'd really never seen you affect the rest of the world in many more ways than plucking the strings of his guitar. Conversely, the world shouldn't affect you either; your warnings were for him and him alone. If he ceased to exist, so would you, right?

So why did those eyes scare you? And why were they watching him in the first place?

His head fell to the side in a confused tilt and the eyes seemed to blink at him.

He snarled and the eyes blinked again.

Then in the distance, the proto-Mindflayer shuttered to life and squawked. It was a sad and pathetic sound, and he would have laughed; however, in response to the cry, the army of creatures that had taken up arms against him screeched in tandem. They released their holds on him, their jaws becoming loose so they could contribute to the flurry of sounds.

Louder and louder until it was a deafening wail.

Until it brought Eddie to his knees.

He was not meant to kneel.

That was the first thought he had; Henry had made him to tower over his enemies, to intimidate them before he slaughtered them. His servitude to his master was not by force, it was willing.

He'd given up so much for a chance to live.

Given up his soul.

"Heaven," you muttered sadly inside of him before delving back into prayer to your non-existent god. He growled at the thought, at your incessant murmuring deep within him.

Eddie Munson wasn't going to heaven; it was a laughable thought, actually.

He struggled back to his feet, feeling like he was underwater again with the weight of a thousand oceans on his shoulders. He steeled himself against the wails and the screams, the whispers and the feelings they all drummed up inside of him.

He'd chosen this.

This was his path.

And nothing would make him deviate from it.

Not you, not some would-be-usurping monster made from the parts of recalcitrant beasts, and certainly not some eyes in the sky that made him doubt himself.

He closed his own eyes to the world, closed himself off from all of it; he even tried to close himself off from you, but he couldn't escape you no matter how much he tried, so he just ignored your words. He would deal with you later.

If some meddlesome minder thought that tricks could be used to turn him against his master, he could use tricks of his own. A trick Henry himself showed him--whether he intended to or not--through the Hive Mind.

It started as a spark, not in his heart or in his fingers...in his mind. He envisioned it. Red and crackling, like the lightning that illuminated the skies of the Upside Down. The skies of his home. So different than the lightning that crashed up above and made those eyes blink and wink at him.

Red like a glowing ember.

Red like blood.

Red like his guitar, the vibrations twanging through him as he plucked the string.

He harnessed those imagined vibrations, imagined lightning, and then cast it outwards from him.

He felt the devastation before he heard it or saw it; just like the static wave that had cut him off from the collective consciousness, his attack on the beasts stunned them, then shocked them.

Eviscerated them.

Every wave of electricity he cast was full of emotion, as though he was purging every human feeling he didn't think he had anymore. It was retribution and pain and justice; grief and regret and loneliness. And when it all poured out of him, when the wails stopped, he opened his eyes to an empty battlefield.

The bodies had turned to stone and then the stone had weathered into dust.

There was a rumbling overhead and Eddie looked up with a wretched, wicked, victorious grin.

Henry would be proud of him.

The eyes blinked again, and then lightning crashed from the clouds that made them up, right down onto the ground before him.

One bolt after another. Never touching him. Just dotting the ground with craters.

Like teardrops.

Until the skies roiled once again and the eyes disappeared.

All with one last whisper on the wind.

"Help me..."

November 14, 1986

Mr. Spellman--Edward, he insisted, but you simply refused--escorted you out of the Witch’s Cell and the Academy of Unseen Arts and then took you back to Greendale.

“In a car,” you observed as he led you to his vehicle.

“How else?” He questioned with a furrowed brow and then reached into the backseat to grab a lovingly-crocheted shawl to hand to you. "I'll return your belongings to you once I find their whereabouts; Faustus was only protecting our congregation when..."

He faltered with his words, and you knew that he was trying to find an excuse for something that might otherwise be inexcusable.

"It's alright," you stopped him and took the shawl. You wrapped it around your bare shoulders. You pulled it around you tightly and inhaled; it smelled like aromatic herbs with an undertone of...formaldehyde? "I understand. Maybe, uh, the stripping isn't necessary next time he tries to catch and torture someone huh?"

"Would you believe it if I said that it's a tradition?" he offered apologetically. "Those who make a deal with the Dark Lord often see it...almost as a rite of marriage."

He laughed as you wrinkled your nose in distaste.

"Maybe some traditions need to change," you challenged him.

He gave you space and time, several days actually, to rest and heal and recollect yourself before he invited you to his home--a mortuary, which would explain the formaldehyde--to discuss your visit to Greendale. You shared your story, willingly this time--about the Knights and the Holy Order and about your curse--while he shared stories about the Church of Night and the Academy, about their beliefs and how he constantly pushed to know more, believe more.

Then you both discussed how you might work together to ensure you'd never need to come back again.

"It's a great meeting of the minds," he exclaimed, more enthusiastic than you might ever be. "A meeting of worlds."

You couldn't deny him that enthusiasm, especially when he'd been kind enough to welcome you into his home. His sister Hilda even brought tea and cookies for the two of you. But you knew that Jinette and the Order would probably kill you if things didn't change in Greendale and soon.

"A meeting about the demon you worship or the kids who are dying at the Academy under your watch Mr. Spellman," you policed him.

You weren't even surprised when he agreed with you.

"You mentioned traditions needing to change. The Harrowing isn't even one of our most archaic traditions but it is one of the many traditions that I'm keen to abandon," he explained, scribbling something down in a nearby journal. You didn't ask what some of the other traditions the Church of Knight kept; you knew that you probably wouldn't be too keen on them either.

But he seemed genuine enough.

"As for the Dark Lord," he continued. "I've known for some time that he isn't really Lucifer Morningstar. But it wouldn't do for me to try and convince anyone of it. What else is there to drive our beliefs? I suppose plenty of things but...to change an entire system takes time. Besides...well...it's all relative, isn't it? To us, your deity is The False God. No matter how much hope and comfort he gives you."

You knew that Mr. Spellman was generalizing...but when was the last time God had ever brought you comfort? Had He ever?

"Maybe He is The False God," you agreed. "Maybe neither of them are truly worthy of any worship; they all have their flaws."

"Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit," he quoted.

"And wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad," you finished for him with a snort. "My boyfriend says that all the time when he and his friends play DnD. He..."

And then you caught yourself, and Mr. Spellman caught you too. He watched you with a knowing gaze.

"He..." you frowned. "He..."

"He came with you to Greendale," Mr. Spellman finished for you. "Even if you don't want to admit that he did. He goes with you everywhere. Doesn't he?"

"He does."

"When did he die?"

"Back in March."

"And do you want him gone?"

"I think," you paused and wrung your hands together.

What a strange question for him to ask...but it still got you thinking. Was it better to carry this grief with you for the rest of your life? To carry his ghost with you everywhere you went? Clearly, if your time in Greendale had been an indicator, Eddie and your grief could be used against you.

But what was the alternative? Being alone? You knew he wasn't there...but wasn't he there?

What was a ghost, but a wish...

"I think," you finally continued with your answer. "Eddie is a part of me now in a way that I can never ever...I don't even know if recover from is the right phrase. I don't think I even want to recover from it. He's going to be a part of me until I reunite with him again."

"In Heaven?"

"In Heaven. Or in Hell."

November 6, 1983

Eddie returned to Henry, triumphant.

It had been a relief once he'd returned to Hawkins and the hive mind seemingly clicked back into place. Henry had been the first to greet him when it did, demanding to see him in the flesh and, hopefully, celebrate such a big victory.

But when he opened his mind to his master, fully intent on letting him see everything--

The self-cannibalism of the unruly creatures, his destruction of them and finally, you deep down in the pit within him, whispering into his ear the whole time.

--Henry, surprisingly, did no such thing.

There was pride, but also boredom. He would see that his request was fulfilled, but beyond that? Well what good was praise when success was the expectation.

"Rest," Henry groaned and then settled back into his own convalescence, without much care to the state of his beast. "You will find battle again soon; for now, rest."

Eddie twitched apprehensively at those words, at the dismissal, as he took to the skies once again to follow his master's orders.

But something was missing. He needed answers, he needed to deliver a full recount of the incident, he needed to ensure that this would never happen again because he knew the consequences would be dire.

He was Henry's right hand; why didn't his master want to ensure he was successful. His reaction had been beyond trust; it had been indifference.

Deep down inside of Eddie, a little voice spoke.

Did it matter whether Henry cared or not? He was successful, that was all that mattered.

But what was the point of being successful if not to receive some sort of praise? He would surely be punished if he had failed.

But if he had failed, he would be dead. And he would have deserved it.

And if he had died? Would Henry have batted an eye?

He was just a thing. Henry's weapon, his sword, his beast...and if he lost...good riddance...if he lost, he was weak anyway...

Eddie roared when he landed at his destination--the trailer--inundated with all of the doubts in the world. Frustrated, because they didn't come from you, they came from himself. That voice...that was his own voice. Not yours.

His doubts in his master were his own.

But where had they come from? Why? Why now?

He was suspicious of their origin, especially since you were practically non-existent in that moment. In fact, he hadn't heard you since his return. Since he'd decided to reveal your existence to Henry.

The feelings of betrayal within him must have been because of you, even inadvertently.

"Come here," he screeched at you, clawing at his own chest almost an attempt to carve you out physically. "Answer me!"

But there was nothing.

Rage stoked, he stormed through the trailer and resumed the rampant destruction that he'd abandoned oh so long ago. Walls demolished, belongings broken. He would move heaven and earth to get you to respond to him, cause as much of a ruckus until you came to bother him once again, insult him.

Then he would...what? Strike? He couldn't strike you, couldn't kill you, couldn't be rid of you, even if he tried.

And then, in the depths of the destroyed trailer, he came to his guitar.

The guitar had started it all, hadn't it? The first time he'd played it was the first time you'd materialized. That was the first time he'd felt like Eddie Munson in an eternity.

But he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore.

He reached out a claw and plucked at a string, hoping that would get you to reveal yourself once again.

Twang.

There was a ripple.

Twang.

A disturbance in the pit as you clawed your way out of him once again.

Twang.

You were silent as you manifested, unseen, beside him.

It was silent for a while, as you both languished in the presence of one another. Eddie in the silent truth of your existence, you in the turbulent rage of his.

Until he finally spoke.

"What did you do to me?" he questioned.

He watched as the guitar sting plucked itself by your invisible hand, that zzzz of your fingertip against the texture of the string before the twang.

"How did you do that?" He didn't need to elaborate, he knew you knew what he meant.

It was easy to put the blame on you, for all of it, even though he knew he felt your fear in the wastes at the outskirts of the Upside Down. You'd been just as in control as he had been.

"We both know," you spoke into his ear, into his heart. "That wasn't me."

"But you are doing something," he rasped. "Trickster, fiend."

"Friend," you corrected him.

There was a pang where his heart should be once again.

But you were more than friend, weren't you. You were a part of his heart, a part of his soul--

He roared at the thought and lashed out, trying to claw at you futility, but you disappeared again and he felt you materialize across the room.

"I don't know why you're angry," you taunted him. "Because big bad Vecna didn't pat you on the head. The Eddie I know wouldn't accept such mediocre prizes."

"I'm not Eddie anymore!" he screeched and this time he didn't lash out at the space where you seemingly existed. Intangible and invulnerable.

No, instead he lunged for the symbol of you, the last symbol of his humanity.

The guitar.

He raked his claws down the metal of the strings, shearing them into pieces. He pulled the neck of it from the body, stomped on it with heavy footsteps.

The more he destroyed his previously beloved instrument, the more he envisioned your destruction. Just like he'd vaporized all of the betraying comrades, he imagined that he'd vaporized you. Each atom turning into dust, into smoke, the more he destroyed this last piece of Eddie Munson in existence here in the Upside Down.

It was quiet when all was said and done, and he let out a victorious wail to celebrate that silence.

He huffed and chuckled and dropped to his knees in relief that he was finally rid of you.

Finally.

But he felt the phantom weight of your arms circling around his neck, the pressure of your body against his wings. You softly caressed his cheek.

"Are you done? Did that feel good?" you mocked him.

A whimper escaped his throat and you sighed sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry Eddie," you nuzzled against the side of his head, breath caressing his skin and ruffling his hair. Even if you weren't really there. "But you're not getting rid of me that easily. I will always be with you."

“Real hauntings have nothing to do with ghosts; they have to do with the menace of memory.” — Anne Rice, Queen of the Damned

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x oc #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic #kinda badass of me to use an anne rice quote on my fanfiction

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wooahaes · 1 year ago

Text

under the sun [joshua]

pairing: non-idol!joshua x gn!reader

prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.

word count: 11.4k~

warnings: slightly suggestive at the very very end, but its left up to interpretation whether anything happens!! (its just two idiots in love making out for a minute). so, so much skinship and platonic-ish kisses between joshua and reader throughout. depictions of nightmares + mentions of vague illness and injuries within said nightmares. food mentions. more straight forward, flirty joshua throughout fic. mentions of joshua being mr gentle sexy.

daisy’s notes: men i am down bad for after writing this........ also sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but wasn’t: several names didn’t pop up when i tried to @ them !! (plus tumblr for some reason hates when i try to have a taglist so if it DOES show that u were @-ed but didnt receive a notif, im so sorry!! ive had this issue for a while and i have no idea how to fix it...)

< day 3 || masterlist ||

summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that Joshua already had a soft spot for you.

This, however, was normal in his eyes. Every time a new person came from maybe either Soonyoung or Wonwoo onward, Joshua found himself doting on people a little extra. When Jun came, it simply felt like they were a tiny group of people living together. But something about that number ticking over from four to five or five to six felt... More, in a way. Although he didn’t dote heavily on Soonyoung, or Wonwoo for that matter, his affections were obvious from day one. The amusement he found in Soonyoung’s jokes, the gentle way Joshua made sure to keep Wonwoo (and later Jihoon, Minghao, and occasionally Hansol when he wasn’t feeling the chattiest) acknowledged in conversations (never forcing them to speak, but making sure they felt regarded as a member of the group), his friendly competitions with the others... He found ways to make sure people felt involved. Jeonghan was better at listening and giving advice, Seungcheol’s job was to lead, and therefore Joshua kept people feeling loved. Whether that be with casual conversation or the occasional mischievous prank he pulled. With you, he expected more of the same: he would dote on you in the beginning, and then it would fade into that same love and care he provided everyone with. Truthfully, Joshua enjoyed caring for people. There was a reason he was called gentle sexy, after all (... even if it was semi self-imposed).

And at the end of your first week living with them, Joshua saw how stressed you were becoming for one reason or another. So he decided he’d get to the root of the problem sooner rather than later. Once he finished hanging laundry with you and the others, he offered up a little picnic lunch--just the two of you. He’d packed up the sandwiches someone else (Mingyu, he thought) had made, and sliced fruit for you. All that was left was for the two of you to find a nice spot to sit in. He carried his bag with food and water bottles inside of you, while you had been tasked with the very important job of carrying the blanket he’d found for you.

He’d suggested the spot the two of you eventually settled into: half underneath the shade of the tree, and half underneath the sunshine. He spread out the blanket for two of you, gazing up at the cloudy sky above for a moment. He looked at you after a moment, gently patting the spot next to him. Yet when you sat down, he didn’t notice the way he slightly shifted to be closer to you without much thought. It felt... natural in a strange way.

“Like my second day,” you mused aloud at one point as Joshua was pulling the securely wrapped food from his bag. He looked up with a hum, but realized what you meant a second later: the two of you had lazed together under the sky that day, too.

His fingers grazed against your own for a moment, acutely aware of how the side of your hand pressed against his own that day. “It wasn’t that long ago,” he gently teased, a warm chuckle escaping his throat. “But you already fit in with us.” Just like we knew you would, he wanted to say, but he held back. Would that be a little too bold to say...?

“I do?”

He smiled. “You do,” he said, his hand already finding a home with your own, your fingers already lacing together with his. “I wouldn’t lie. I think we all care about you a lot, even if it’s in different ways.”

He could see the way you bit back a thought. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushed over his.

“Even Jihoon and Minghao,” he told you. He noticed the way you raised your eyes, already caught. And oh how cute your expression was. Maybe he’d catch you in silly little moments like these again if he could see that wide-eyed look again. “They’re just taking their time. They were like this with Seungkwan and Chan, too.”

It didn’t take you long to piece together the missing name there. “What about Hansol?”

Joshua’s eyes seemed to light up a little as he smiled. “Jihoon liked him almost immediately,” he said, “but he’s the exception. Jihoon likes you enough, and so does Minghao. They just take a little longer to warm up to people.”

“What about Jun?”

“Jun’s looking out for you, too,” Joshua said. “He’s also a little quieter about it. But... you know that Chan likes you. So do Hansol and Seungkwan...” His thumb ran along the side of your hand. “And so do I.”

He could see a flustered smile cross your lips, and you turned your face away from him, looking to the sky instead. But you finally spoke a tiny, “Thank you,” a second later. He laughed a little, warm and vibrant, at how adorable you truly were.

“So... What else is inside that cute head?” He smiled at you, tilting his head as though it’d allow him to peer inside and see said thoughts. “Anything new?”

Your smile slowly dropped, and you let out a quiet sigh. “Nothing so far.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said, gently squeezing your hand. “It takes time. I think once you stop worrying about it so much, it’ll come to you.”

With another sigh, you turned back to face him again. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s easy after a while,” he said, pulling his hand free from your own. He reached for the sandwiches he’d brought the two of you, offering one up. Your fingers grazed his again when you accepted it, and he turned his attention to unwrapping it slowly. “When you’ve been here as long as some of us have... You learn to accept each day for what it is.” He went quiet, staring down at his meal.

And you watched as proud, bright, warm Joshua turned into someone... quieter. Like the volume had been slowly turned down, number by number, until his melody could barely be heard while still being there. He said nothing for a moment, just staring blankly, brows drawing together as he gathered his thoughts.

“Sometimes... I pray,” he finally said. “And I think it helps. I grew up Catholic,” he looked back up at you, “That much I remember. I remember singing in church....” He went quiet again for a moment, idly pulling at a piece of the bread. “Singing’s really important to me, actually. Sometimes I don’t know why, but it is.”

You weren’t sure what to say to someone so pensive, so quiet compared to the version you knew most days. So you opted for what you knew was true: “You’re good at it.”

A smile crossed his face, even if it didn’t fully seem to be him again. “You’re sweet,” he said at first, eyes meeting yours after a second. This time, his smile actually met his eyes. “Thank you. But you should hear Seungkwan. And Seokmin, too,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich, as if to distract himself from whatever thoughts had washed over him before. “Jeonghan and Jihoon are talented, too,” he said after swallowing his bite, “but you really, really need to hear how Seungkwan and Seokmin sound--especially if they sing together.”

That seemed to bring back the Joshua you were most familiar with. Not that you didn’t like this quieter, more thoughtful version of him: you thought that maybe, in time, you would learn how to speak to him in moments like that. It was strange, though... He always seemed so carefree so far, most days enjoying the freedom that this life could give him. It almost felt as though he was made for it. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t think Joshua could have those quieter moments: you were sure everyone there had them--even Soonyoung, who seemed to carry the most laughter with him, or Mingyu, who’s silly, goofy nature spoke for itself most days. Yet with Joshua... It felt as though you weren’t prepared to see that side of him peek out so soon.

It was cute, though, to see the way he happily hyped up the others and their talents. Soonyoung loved to dance--as did Jun, Minghao, and Chan, and Joshua was happy to sing the praises of everyone there. He’d let you see too much of himself, too soon. Maybe when the two of you were closer (and, truly, he hoped you would be), he would confide in you the way he confided in Jeonghan. He hoped you would feel the same safety in confiding in him, too: he might not be as warm as Jeonghan seemed to be, but he wanted to give you a warm place to land if you needed it, arms wide open and ready to embrace you when you needed it.

That night, he woke up from a far too vivid dream. The memory seemed to fade away soon, slipping from his grasp as he sat forward, a hand running through his hair. He’d been somewhere... crowded and loud, making his way through throngs of people. He remembered being approached, yet the face seemed... blurry and distant. Like he should remember it, but something in his mind refused to let him make out specific features.

“Joshua?” Jeonghan quietly mumbled from beside him, sleep laced into his voice. He stifled a yawn, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, slowly settling back into bed as he turned onto his side. “Just had a weird dream,” he said. “Nothing bad. Don’t worry.”

Jeonghan accepted the answer easily enough, eyelids drooping shut as he snuggled back into the space next to him. He’d talk to him about it in the morning--no need to wake Jeonghan up over something so silly. He slipped back into slumber as easily as he had pulled his blanket back over him, and was left with nothing else he could remember that next morning. He made his way to breakfast with the others, stopping long enough to glance at himself in a mirror. He looked the same, so why did he feel so... Different?

He’d waved at you on his way in, and noticed your shy smile as you waved back before returning to your conversation with Seokmin. Joshua went to get a glass, his focus purely on getting a glass of water. Maybe that’d help settle him, centering him on something other than what he dreamed about last night. Seungcheol had stopped beside him, though, his own glass in hand.

“Everything okay?” He asked in a quiet voice. “I felt you jolt last night.”

“You did?” Joshua raised his eyes to meet Seungcheol’s. “Just had a weird dream. It felt... real.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded, taking in each word with care. “Like a memory?”

“I think so.” Joshua paused. Yet... The other memories never felt so vivid. Not like this. They felt real in the same sense, but what made this one feel so intense...?

He saw you again, giggling at something Seokmin had said, and he could see the way he pressed kisses into your cheek with a smile.

Well. There might be his why sitting right there. All that was left was to chase after it.

“Today, I’m going to teach you something very important.”

Joshua’s hand was holding yours as he walked alongside the river with you, more-so to guide you than his casual form of skinship. He’d invited you along with him for a small walk through nature--something he enjoyed doing on his own sometimes, but today wasn’t just leisure. He’d left you waiting in anticipation after he finally decided to break the news to you as to why he’d suddenly invited you out again barely a few days after your picnic.

“The art,” he said, with a purposeful pause to build suspense, “of living one day at a time.” He let go of your hand after a moment, slowing to a stop as he turned to you. “I think you could use it.”

He was slightly teasing you, and you could tell from the way he was smiling at you. Yet you agreed easily enough to ‘take these lessons,’ since he’d casually offered you a ‘once-in-a-lifetime deal’ when he invited you out earlier. If there was anything Joshua was good at, it was keeping you entertained. Whether that be through playing guitar or singing, or building up to moments like these... You definitely found him charming in plenty of ways.

“It’s hard,” he said, “but I learned a while back that it’s better to accept each day as they come. It helped me relax, at least--and it helped a few of the others, so I think I’m an expert now.”

Charming and cheeky. A deadly combination, in your humble opinion, but you liked Joshua’s company too much. If he would be the death of you, then c’est la vie... At least Chan would hopefully avenge you, maybe with Seungkwan and Hansol at his side.

(Not that you had any worries with Joshua: he was strong and safe in the same way the others were. The only fear you truly ever could have was of impending heartbreak, if you let yourself fall for his charms.)

Joshua drifted away from you, plucking a few flowers from the ground before he turned back to you. “There’s a lot of beauty in nature. I think I knew it before, but living here really makes you appreciate it a lot more.” He made his way over, carefully placing the flower behind your ear.

It was at this point that you realized he’d placed the other behind his own, and he smiled at the way the two of you matched now: little yellow flowers almost making it seem like the two of you were a pair. He turned, starting off talking about his own walks he goes on sometimes, enjoying the scenery even though he’s seen it an endless amount of times by now, and you followed behind him like a duckling.

Eventually, he found a spot to sit. He nodded toward the spot next to him, the corners of his lips slightly upturned as he watched you sink down into the spot next to him.

“What do you see?”

You raised a brow at him. What?

“Humor me,” he said. “Just tell me what you can see.”

So with a long exhale, you looked around, and began to list off things. The river ahead of you, stretching toward the lake at the end of this path. The trees that surrounded both of you, having reached the more wooded area. If you looked close enough, you could see fish underneath the water, scales shimmering in the sunlight that peeked through the trees. Tiny flowers dotting amongst the grass: some pink, some white... and others yellow, like the ones you and Joshua still had behind your ears.

Your eyes trailed him up. “I see you, too,” you said after a moment.

It earned a smile from him. “Well,” he said, “I see you as well. Now tell me what you can hear.”

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes. It felt like the kind of lesson you might have as a child learning about their senses for the first time, but you began to list off things nevertheless. The sound of water rushing past (and, if you listened closer, you could hear a fish leap and land in the water again), the sound of birds fluttering through the trees. Joshua’s breathing. The wind as it rustled leaves. Your own quiet breathing, too. Part of you wondered if you could hear the others, had you been close enough to home: the sound of Jun’s loud laughter, or Seungkwan ranting at something Soonyoung joked about...

And when he prompted you next, you continued on: you could smell the flowers, light and sweet on the breeze. Feel the way that the grass was poking into your skin, the feeling of the flower, weightless, behind your ear. The warm breeze as it kissed your skin. The warm feeling of his hand brushing against yours.

“That’s it,” he said in a low voice. “The art of living a day at a time.” He was smiling again, eyes twinkling. “Living in the present moment and accepting it as that. The book Wonwoo brought back called it mindfulness, but I prefer my name for it.”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Even if it was a mouthful... You thought you preferred his name for it, too.

The next day, you and Joshua were tasked with cooking dinner. Conversation always came easy with Joshua: even if you had moments of being unsure what to say, he could easily fill the air and keep things flowing as the two of you worked. He always seemed to use chores as a way of checking in with you, too, just to make sure you were adjusting well. He noticed how close you’d become with Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan--although he’d noticed that a few others had a soft spot for you (namely Mingyu... and Seungcheol, but for the sake of his friendship, he’d leave his name out of it for now).

“Joshua?” You looked up from the veggies you’d been chopping for him, and he merely hummed in acknowledgement. “So... What started this whole ‘art of living one day at a time’ thing?”

He hummed to himself for a moment, mulling over the exact moment that led to it. He’d come up with the silly little name for it after he started practicing mindfulness, sure, but... “Sometimes,” he started, “I’ll get stuck in my own thoughts. It was maybe a few weeks before Jun showed up, but Cheol and Jeonghan took me out for a picnic. And--I dunno. We just sat together, just kinda observing how peaceful everything is.”

“So you had a picnic with your friends, and you started to appreciate... everything?”

Joshua nodded, not looking up from his work. “Yep. It helped.”

“Would you do that with me?”

He paused, turning to see that you’d grown more flustered at asking your question aloud. Before you could apologize and try to backtrack, he merely nodded, “Sure. I’d gladly steal you away for a picnic if you don’t mention it to anyone else.” He went back to stirring the pot, the scent of spices heavy in the air. “I like having alone time with you.”

His heart stirred at his own words, aware of what he meant: I like being the object of your attention.

Right as he went to apologize for being so forward, you spoke up, “Then you can’t tell anyone, either.“

Joshua’s eyes were shimmering as he turned to you again, sharing a smile between the two of you as he realized that maybe things weren’t so one-sided for him. “Then... We can call it a date. If you want.”

“And if I do?”

Oh. Oh. This felt... fast. “Then you can pick our spot.”

Two days later, Joshua let you take the lead, a basket and blanket in his hands as you lead the way outside. The two of you had agreed to a little picnic lunch together, to reduce any risk of someone trying to tag along with you. Everyone would be scattered now, doing their own things as Joshua let you take the lead. He could hear the sound of Seungkwan and Chan bickering in the attic as he climbed up and into the church, and the tell-tale sound of Hansol’s warm laugh at an argument that was anything but serious. The two of you had passed Mingyu and Wonwoo on your way out, and he’d seen Seokmin go searching for Jihoon with Minghao tailing alongside him. Some of the others must still be out, finishing up their chores for the day. Joshua saw Jun on the way out, making his way back inside with an empty basket from doing laundry in his arms, and merely gave him a small wave.

You guided him out and to the same shady spot he sat with you on your second day. Together, you spread the blanket out before sitting together, chatting idly for a while..

“Joshua?” You suddenly said. “Tell me what you can see.”

His eyes crinkled a little with delight. Oh, how cute of you. He began to list things in a calm, even tone: the trees that grow thicker down the path to the lake, the river that ran near the two of you (and the shimmering of scales that are easier to see now, with the sunlight hitting them), the pebbles that were pressed into the dirt. He could hear the sound of your breathing, leaves rustling, the babbling brook... And he could feel the plush fabric underneath the two of you, the warm breeze as it kissed his skin in a way he wished would be replaced by something (someone, his mind corrected) else...

And even though the two of you had moved on from that sense, he smiled as he looked at you: “And I see you.”

Over two weeks of you being there, and Joshua felt as though he’d fallen for you too quickly. Too easily. Maybe in another life, this would have taken far longer. He would have courted you the right way, with dinner dates and long walks where he had to build up the courage to ask if he could hold your hand (out of respect for you rather than insecurity for himself: not all people enjoyed the kind of casual skinship that Joshua often saw Seungkwan partake in with...well... everyone). Maybe he should have asked you on the walk back how you felt, exactly...Yet his confidence had dwindled slightly. He felt something for you, yes, but how was he to be sure that it was love?

So he’d give himself a little longer instead. Enough time to know for sure that the enamored feelings he was almost certain of were what he thought they were. Every time a new person came, there was always this honeymoon period of adoration for them. For Joshua, it was the warmth of a need to welcome and care for a new person, and he knew himself well: it’d only last a week or two, three at the most, before it became something comfortable in his chest rather than an ever present flutter that punctuated his every action. Even if his gaze would drift down to your lips (a sign, in his eyes, that this was not the normal love he felt for new people)... He needed time to be sure.

Barely into your third week of living with them, Joshua woke up to the sound of you panicking.

He was far from the first person awake, though. You had curled up across the room, happy to be in Seokmin’s warm embrace since he was feeling particularly cuddly tonight, and you’d startled several of the others closer to you. He jerked up, running a hand through his hair to comb it back to his face as he watched you panic. The others had already taken to comforting you to no success. Seokmin kept an arm around you, trying to calm you down while your words were slammed together in this endless dribble, like water from a faucet coming out all in one heavy blast. Chan had reached out, trying to take your hand and wipe your tears as you kept trying to talk about the dream you’d had. Seungkwan spoke over you plenty, alongside Minghao, as they all tried to get you to slow down and breathe. You could talk afterward, yet you didn’t seem to listen. All Joshua could tell was that you had fought with Minghao in this dream, and then you ran away and ended up hurt, terrified no one was coming for you.

He kicked off the blanket, pulling himself free from the space between Seungcheol and Jeonghan with ease. Several others had woken up at this point, too, and he could hear Seungcheol mumbling something to Jeonghan as he was roused, too. Joshua, on the other hand, was more focused on getting over to you, falling to his knees in front of you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s okay. It’s okay,” he reached for your hands, and, through your tear-filled gaze, your eyes met his own. “I’m here--”

All within seconds, you’d begun to move in for comfort, and he easily pulled you into his chest. Soon enough, he had sunk down to where he was sitting, letting you sob into his shirt as he stroked your back. His head leaned against your own, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on comforting you.

“It’s okay,” he said again in that low, soothing voice, “I’m right here. Just breathe for me, darling, okay?”

As if the words finally broke through to you, this time carrying some meaning to them, you gave him a shaky nod before squeezing your eyes shut tight. Your breathing staggered, and Joshua began to take in slow, deep breaths with you. Just to make sure you didn’t feel like you were alone now. He raised his head as you kept breathing, and he looked around at the sea of concerned faces that surrounded him now. Some of them were still half asleep (Mingyu and Hansol, Joshua noticed, and maybe Soonyoung, too), but they’d gathered around. They were a community, after all. This was far from the first time someone had a bad enough dream to evoke such a strong reaction (Joshua remembered plenty of incidents right offhand), and it created this understood feeling between them all: we check on each other, and we go from there. If you didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t force you to.

You had realized that you disturbed everyone soon enough, and already began to apologize over and over, trying to make up a good enough reason to justify getting so upset over a bad dream. Joshua gently shushed you instead.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again. “You just had a bad dream. It happens to all of us.”

Which was enough to prompt Chan into bringing up how he woke up with a scream his first week there. He couldn’t remember what the dream was anymore, but it was bad enough that the others had to calm him down, too. He thought it was something to do with his life before, but Joshua remembered what it was. Chan had dreamed that he’d been kicked out of the group because he failed them in some way. Seokmin reached over, taking your hand in his, gently running his thumb across your knuckles as he shared his own story: he fought with Mingyu early into the latter’s first days with the group, and had a bad dream a while after of the fight getting worse.

They shared their pain with you without reluctance. They were human, too, after all: they had bad dreams and bad mornings, and sometimes they’d wake up crying like this too. Joshua just cradled you to his chest the entire time, though, tracing slow circles onto your back as you listened. Despite the stories being shared, you didn’t share your own now that you were calm enough that you could get it across better. No one pushed you to, though, past Wonwoo’s gentle question of whether you wanted to talk about it more. You had shook your head, curling up closer to Joshua before saying that you felt better now, thanks to all of them. They’d all started to go back to bed, Seungkwan telling you to wake him up if you needed to talk; he would happily listen if you needed him (or the two of you could go on a walk, too, if that’d help).

Joshua gently nudged you to get your attention. “What do you want now?” He asked softly. “You wanna go back to bed? I can get you some water if you want.”

You shook your head. “Can... Can I sleep with you, actually? You holding me helps...”

The surprise of your request made him grow a little flustered. He’d always be open to cuddling with you, but for you to say something like that...

He nodded, though, and brought you back over to where he’d been sleeping. Seungcheol wordlessly shifted over to make room for you, already grabbing extra pillows and blankets to help make you as comfortable as possible. Soon enough, you were curled up in Joshua’s arms again.

Over your head, Joshua had met Jeonghan’s gaze. His eyes flickered down to you for just a moment, and Joshua...

Well. He knew what Jeonghan was trying to ask. He merely nodded, and he watched as his friend nodded in return, understanding. A moment later, he’d seen the way you shivered slightly, and Jeonghan slid a little closer to ensure that you would be warm between the two of them.

Joshua loved you. Plain and simple. And now he was sure that both Jeonghan and Seungcheol knew (as well as every other person in that room). Everyone but you, hopefully. If he was going to tell you soon (and he would, he knew he would if he thought he had a chance), he wanted to do it right. But only when you were ready for that kind of relationship with him.

(And maybe he should call it overconfidence, but... Joshua had a pretty strong feeling that you loved him back.)

As much as Joshua didn’t want to leave you the next morning, it was Mingyu who gently nudged him awake, asking in a low voice if he’d come help with breakfast. He agreed, watching you sleep for a moment longer after Mingyu left him, and he slowly untangled himself from him. When you began to stir away, he gently shushed you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he told you to go back to sleep for a little longer. You’d ended up turning over, reaching over for Seungcheol, who barely roused before he cuddled a little closer to give you further comfort. Joshua pulled himself from his blankets, watching the wordless way that Jeonghan filled the space he was leaving, eyes meeting his for a second in a silent go on, I’ve got them.

Mingyu was already working on breakfast when Joshua came in, his conversation with Seokmin coming to a halt. The two greeted him casually enough, and Joshua was put to work soon enough.

“Josh?” Seokmin said after a few minutes, earning a glance from him. “You and Mouse...”

Joshua said nothing at first, working on. Oh. It must be obvious now, then. Is this something he’ll have to address with everyone? “We’re only friends.”

“We know,” Mingyu said. “That’s not what we’re asking.”

You don’t need me to say it out loud, Joshua wanted to say. Because they knew: everyone had to, right? Last night was just... proof that the initial affection he held for you within your first days never went away. That it merely blossomed into something stronger. Barely a few weeks into you living with them, and you’d somehow captured his heart so easily. He didn’t want to call it all-out love, because love took longer to sow. Infatuation fit better. He, for the lack of a better word between “infatuation” and “love,” liked you.. a lot.

He waited until everyone, save for you, had filed in for breakfast. They were quiet, a few whispers about you flying around the table, and Joshua... Well. Joshua wasn’t an idiot: he saw the concerned glances people kept sending him. The way no one addressed him, but kept clearly talking about him.

And then he finally spoke up, “Don’t tell them.”

No one spoke. They merely exchanged looks, all knowing at this point.

“Not now,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell them when they’re ready. I’m not putting that burden on them this soon.”

It was still tense, but Seungkwan was the one who finally looked up from his breakfast. “Joshua... I think they like you, too.”

He wanted to say something. Anything. His face grew warmer at someone actually speaking the thought aloud. He thought you did, too: but he didn’t want to define your feelings in his mind. It would set expectations on you that he wasn’t comfortable setting: if you liked him back, then he’d want to hear you say it out loud. Not now, of course, but when you were feeling better. He knew the effects of a shitty dream all too well.

Chan barely touched his food before he excused himself, saying something about taking a walk before he’d start on his share of the chores. Joshua saw the concerned look Hansol and Seungkwan shared, and the gentle nod toward where Chan had left that Seungcheol gave them: go on. The two excused themselves as well, getting up and following after him quickly.

Joshua wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t the only person who felt more for you. He knew Chan did. He thought Cheol did, too, but Joshua knew that neither would stand in your way of pursuing who you loved. Whether it be them or someone else, they would accept it and learn how to move past their feelings. Joshua would do the same, after all. He loved you and your happiness. And if you would be happier with someone else.. Then Joshua would support you wholeheartedly while he took the time to heal.

That’s what love was supposed to be, wasn’t it?

Something weighed in the pit of your stomach for most of that day. Everyone had been concerned at breakfast that morning (which, to be fair, hadn’t surprised you in the slightest), and you had waved them off. You weren’t ready to talk about your dream quite yet, not until you tried to focus on the center of it all. By some stroke of luck, you’d found Minghao painting by himself--sitting at a bare space of wall that’d only been painted green in preparation. He’d been painting a circle of blue, merely glancing up as you came closer before greeting you casually enough.

You slowly sank down next to him when he invited you to. “Um... Minghao?”

He heard the caution in your voice, and it made him lower his brush, turning to you. “Is something wrong?”

“Did... Did I do something?” You said slowly. “I mean. I don’t think I did, but--I had a dream that you were mad at me, and--and I just started overthinking and--”

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, plain and simple. For a moment, his gaze flickered past you, but before you could turn to see what he was looking at, he spoke up again. “If I was, you’d know. We’d talk about it eventually.”

Relief hit you all at once, and you let out a sigh. “Good...” You’d toyed with your sleeve, still feeling a slight nervous edge as you sat there with him. “I just... I had this dream where everyone seemed upset. But you--”

His gaze flickered up again, and then back to your face before he finally looked past you one final time. “Stop standing around and either sit with us or go.”

You turned, and Joshua had been lingering nearby. “Oh. Shua...”

“I can go--”

“No,” you said, “it’s okay. You can stay if you want. I don’t mind talking about it now.”

Joshua slowly nodded, making his way over before he sank down next to the two of you. He watched you for a moment, waiting to see if you would continue.

And soon enough, you did. “Anyway... I don’t know why everyone was upset, but you were the only one who spoke up and said whatever happened was my fault.”

Minghao furrowed his brow, looking up. “But you don’t know what happened?” When you shook your head, he continued. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be mad if something bad happened--”

“I ran away,” you said. “I don’t know why, but I just decided I’d leave for good since you all were better off before I came here.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. He merely shared a concerned glance with Minghao, who, too, seemed to be at a loss for words.

“We love you,” was what Minghao said a second later, voice softer than before. “If something bad happened, we wouldn’t kick you out.”

“He’s right,” Joshua said. “We wouldn’t--”

“You didn’t,” you said. “I decided to just... Remove myself from the equation.”

That... was different, to be fair. But what could cause them all to be so upset that you felt that was the only option? To run away and live on your own instead? They were a community: no one should have to live a life of complete isolation. Seungcheol was always adamant about that after his own time alone.

“I know I wasn’t warm to you when you first came here,” Minghao said after a moment, “but I don’t want you to leave. You’re one of us now.”

With a slow nod, you let his words sink in. Us. Although you knew they’d all embraced you with open arms, letting you into this community, this family they had so lovingly come together to form... It still meant a lot to hear that you were a part of it. That they loved you.

Minghao looked back at the scene he’d been working on, pressing his lips together for a moment. “Do you have any ideas on what I should paint? I wanted to paint a pond, but...”

Joshua looked to you. “Mouse?”

“How about... ducks?” You suggested casually enough. “A little family of ducks.”

Minghao nodded after a moment, taking your suggestion into account before he began to wash his brush. “A family of ducks it is, then.”

You stood up, thanking Minghao for the talk as you went to leave him and Joshua behind. Yet Joshua rose quickly, following after you and stopping you once you were far enough to not be overheard by Minghao.

“Did you have any more bad dreams?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t. Thank you for being there, though. It felt like cuddling with you was all I needed.”

He chuckled. “Well,” he said, “all you have to do is wake me up and I’ll be there from now.“ He took your hands in his, swinging them slightly. “I always have room for you, alright?”

Your nose had crinkled when you smiled, giggling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You slowly let go, taking a drifting step back. “Thank you, Joshua. I’ll keep it in mind.”

It was strange. Sure enough, you woke up that next night, sobbing again. It wasn’t as bad as the first time, but Chan had woken up Joshua for you when you asked him to. Instead of merely trying to soothe you back to sleep then and there, he glanced around before he gently pulled you to your feet, guiding you out of the room to make both of you a warm cup of tea. He sat next to you, watching the slow sips you’d take, cheeks still wet with tears. Despite the urge to go ahead and ask, to figure out what upset you this time, he let you have your space. The tea seemed to calm your nerves, and he merely waited for you to make the next move: if you wanted to go back to bed, he’d offer the spot next to you again. Or you could go back to Chan, who Joshua was sure was still lying awake, waiting to know if you were fine. When you finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze, you asked to talk about it.

This time, your nightmare was about Wonwoo. He’d fallen sick--really, really sick--in your nightmare. You swore you could still feel his feverish skin from when you were checking his temperature. It was almost as if he was going to die, and the thought of that had been enough to throw you out of your dreams and back into the reality you were living in. Wonwoo was okay: that was something you could see when you first woke up. Chan had stirred, asking what was wrong, and you merely asked him to get Joshua.

“If it helps... No one’s ever been that sick before,” Joshua said, his hand on top of yours. His thumb grazed the back of your hand. “And we know how to take care of each other. I’m sure Wonwoo would have been okay.”

Something about his presence seemed to calm you easier than the others did. He sat with you a little longer until your cups of tea were empty, and soon enough he’d made a space for you once more, letting you curl up in his arms again.

The same happened the next night: Mingyu had burned his hand in that dream. The next, you were lost in the forest with an injured ankle and you were scared no one would come for you. In another, your shoulder had been injured horribly... And all Joshua could do was be there for you each night. Sometimes he’d make you tea, or the two of you would go on a short walk to clear your head, but it always ended up the same: with you in Joshua’s arms, feeling safer than you had been before. He would wake up the next morning, feeling the weight of your body against his, sleeping peacefully.

(You finally gave up after that night and started sleeping next to him permanently until you worked out whatever was causing these nightmares. Not that he was complaining: he liked having you close to him.)

Seungcheol had been watching you one night after dinner, while the group was all still together, biting his bottom lip. Joshua wondered if he thought he could figure you out had he stared intensely enough, studying your entirety as much as he could from his place across the room. Yet his calling of “Mouse,” had been enough to catch your attention, followed by, “are your dreams still bothering you?”

You looked up from the puzzle you were working on with Minghao and Seokmin, a little more flustered at the outright question. “Not really...”

“Aren’t dreams a subconscious thing?” Hansol said from his spot on the couch, curled up with Jihoon next to him. “Maybe you’re just worried about something.”

“I’m not,” you said, a little too quickly in Joshua’s opinion. “I just had a string of bad dreams. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure?” Seokmin frowned. “You can talk to us--”

“I’m fine,” you said, standing up. “I’m gonna go wash up for bed.”

They let you go without a fight. No need to push you now when you were already starting to get upset. Joshua merely said he’d go try to talk to you, just to make sure you were fine--even if you weren’t ready to talk. He’d found you brushing your teeth, and you’d pouted a little at the sight of him in the entryway.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said after spitting into the sink. “Maybe tomorrow, Shua.”

He slowly drifted closer to you. “That’s okay,” he said, slowly stopping next to you. “Do you know what’s bothering you, though?”

Reluctantly, you nodded after a moment. “I think I do. But... I don’t wanna think deeply about it before bed.”

He could understand that. “As long as you aren’t bottling it up,” he said. “We love you a lot.” He reached out to brush a stray hair back into place, and his fingers lingered at your temple for a moment before he drew his hand back. “I just want you to know that.”

“I love you guys, too,” you met his gaze. “Really, Joshua. I’m okay for tonight.” You leaned in, pressing a tiny kiss against his cheek. “Just tired from doing laundry with Soonyoung and Seungkwan earlier.”

He chuckled airily, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I understand. Just don’t be afraid to tell us things, alright?”

“I won’t.” You promised. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

With you heading to bed early, Joshua... knew what he needed to do. The group was starting to disperse when he returned, and he went ahead to stop Chan before he could go with the others.

“I was thinking about going for a walk,” he said. “Do you want to join me?”

Chan shook his head. “I’m good, Shua. Thank you--”

“Chan,” he said, a little more serious this time. “I think you should.”

Chan looked toward the others, and let out a sigh, before nodding. He understood what this was, and the two of them grabbed their shoes and began to make their way outside. Once the church doors were securely closed behind them, Joshua let out a sigh and looked up to the stars overheard, twinkling in the clear, dark sky... and then he nodded out toward the river. He and Chan walked in silence at first, making their way down the hill with slow, heavy steps, neither sure how to begin this conversation.

“I really like them,” Joshua said outright. “And I know other people do, too. In the same way, I mean.”

Chan didn’t look at him at first. “I know. I was there when you asked us not to tell them how you feel.”

“I just want to clear the air,” Joshua said, “because I know you love them, too.”

Chan met his gaze, and Joshua could see something (confidence, perhaps) waver in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it, looking away. “We’re all adults here,” he said. “I’m not going to treat either of you differently.”

“I know that,” Joshua said. “I trust you. But I don’t want any bad blood between us... and I don’t want to hurt your friendship with Mouse, either.”

With a heavy sigh, Chan shut his eyes for a moment, slowing to a stop. “As long as they’re happy, then I’m happy. I love them, Joshua, and I want them to be happy.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away again to kick at a pebble along the riverside. “I’d be happy no matter who they love. It’s not like they can date all of us.”

“Can’t they?” Joshua said, only slightly teasing. “You know how we are with each other. I think if we all wanted that, we’d work it out.”

Chan’s face grew bright red, even in the low light. “Don’t say things like that!” He said, pouting, “I--I don’t want to think about it when they only like you.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “I mean it, though. We’re all more than just a group of people living together, though. Who knows,” he shrugged, “maybe in another life, we’d all be something together.”

“Maybe.” Chan sounded wistful as he stared off into the distance. “But they love you.”

But they love me, Joshua repeated mentally, turning the phrase over in his mind over and over. You loved him... “I think they do--”

“I know they do.” Chan said. “It’s kind of obvious now.” He pulled his hands from his pockets, looking back to the church. The two began their return up the hill, faster this time to get back inside now that they’ve cleared the air. “Are you going to talk to Cheol, too?” He paused, “I mean... It’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

Joshua let out a warm chuckle as he pulled open the doors. It was a bit obvious that Seungcheol felt... a lot for you. “It is. I’m not sure I’ll talk to him, though.”

“Why?”

“You admitted to your feelings,” Joshua said, following Chan inside as he turned to secure the door. “Cheol is the kind of person who’d rather deny them either until his feelings are gone or until the world ends if it meant they’d be happy. He’s just going to give them up--”

“And I will.” Seungcheol stood up from his chair, making his way over. “Are you two really talking about me?” He chuckled a little at the startled expression on Chan’s face. “It’s fine, Chan. Hansol mentioned the two of you left, and I had an idea why.”

“So you decided to just wait in the dark to scare us?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “I thought it’d be funny. And it was,” he nodded toward Chan, “very funny to see his face--”

“But that’s not fair!” Chan suddenly cut in. “Cheol... It’s not fair that you have to give up your feelings.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

Chan stammered for a moment, “I--But--It’s not--” And then stopped, collecting himself. “It is, but... You give up a lot for us already.”

“They don’t love me,” Seungcheol said, plain and simple. A fact that he had long since accepted. “They love Joshua. We’re both giving up our feelings because we care about them and want to see them happy.”

Joshua felt his heart sink a little. While Joshua would have done the same for you... It felt awful to hear it said aloud, especially from someone who felt so much for you. “Cheol--”

“It’s silly,” he said. “How hard I fell and how fast it happened... But they love you, Joshua. And I know you love them, too.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. “Cheol, I’m--”

“Take care of them.” Seungcheol tucked his hands into his pockets. “I know they’ll do the same.” He turned, musing aloud, “You know who to see about signing up to perform on their day...”

So Joshua nodded, already knowing what he needed to do. Chan walked ahead, following after Seungcheol. He needed to tell you soon, but... Surely, you could wait a little longer, couldn’t you? Just long enough for him to say it the way he felt he needed to. He made his way down, through the long passage until he came into the main room... Where Jihoon had been curled up, reading a book on the couch, humming to himself as he drummed his fingers against the edge. He wasn’t tired yet, but Joshua knew he wouldn’t go to his guitar until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He called out to Jihoon, already bringing up the song they’d been working on with Jeonghan and how he was going to try and finish it. He’d need help with getting it right, but...

Joshua knew how to make his feelings for you clear. Even if you couldn’t answer him in the moment, he’d sing it proudly, just so you knew where his heart fell.

Sometimes, all you had to do to find Joshua was follow the sound of a guitar being played. It always would lead you either to him or to Jihoon (or, rarely, Hansol), and once you came close enough, you’d be able to hear the soft way he mumbled his way through lyrics as he tried to figure them out. You peered around the entryway to the room he was in, watching the way he quietly worked on. He’d yet to notice you, and you watched the way his fingers moved to make each chord. Something about the way the sunlight flooded into the room and illuminated him made it feel as though you were looking in on a masterpiece. If only you could paint it--committing it to memory didn’t feel like it was enough to capture his beauty. Those soft brown locks fell into his face, eyes half-lidded as the lyrics he were working through (Should I talk to you or not? / I thought for a while...) barely audible. Was this, you wondered, what Eurydice felt when she looked upon Orpheus? Or how the stones felt when he traveled to bring her back, parting the way with ease, so moved by his song? Even if you couldn’t hear every word he sang, there was something so genuinely beautiful about how he seemed to lose himself in his music. It was similar to the way Jihoon did, too, as well as Hansol: they loved it so deeply, it was as though they were meant to sing in some way. Like music was one of their greatest loves, and it’d be cruel to abandon it completely.

Joshua looked up soon enough, though, and the music stopped as those pretty eyes softened when they saw you. “Hello, darling,” he called out, thoroughly amused that he had caught you observing him. It was just as love-filled as when he called you that during your second day there, too. “You can come in, if you want.”

As if bewitched to move from your place, you drifted across the room toward him, heart guiding you more than anything. Joshua always seemed to have room for you, no matter where he was: there was space by his side at dinner, at bedtime, or in conversations... and even now, when it was the two of you alone, he was happy to bring you in.

“Do you know how to play?” He asked, turning his attention to tuning his guitar--one of the chords must have been slightly off, since he’d kept trying to tune and retune it as he worked.

You shake your head. “Hansol offered to teach me once, actually,” you watched as he worked on, humming in acknowledgement.

“And?”

“I turned him down.”

Joshua lifted his head, this pretty, amused glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t want to spend time with Hansol?”

With a giggle, you gently bumped your shoulder into his. “Of course I do. I’d just... rather learn from someone else.”

He merely chuckled. “I see.”

Wordlessly, as he finally finished tuning the guitar, Joshua moved in closer to you so that he could reach around you. He brought in your hand to lay on the strings, the weight of it mostly on him still. His fingers are rough as they guide yours into place, and it made you wonder how long he’d been playing guitar.

“This is how you do Em...” His breath hit the back of your ear, and he paused to make sure you were pressing down the strings firmly enough. Then he strummed, and you could feel the vibrations through those strings. “Hear that?” He said, and when you looked at his face again, you could see this proud glimmer in his eyes. “And if you move your fingers to these chords,” he was already moving on, “you can get C...”

Joshua gently instructed you as he could. Em to C to G to D, always guiding your fingers and helping you keep them in place, and punctuating each with a strum to let you hear the difference.

“You’ll get better with time,” he said, “we’ll work on it.”

“So that means there’s a next time?”

He shifted away from you, returning to the position he’d been sitting in before you came. “If you want there to be one. I like spending time with you, you know.”

“Good.” You rested against his side. “I like spending time with you, too.”

He chuckled warmly. “I won’t tell Hansol you said that--”

When you whined his name, he merely laughed a little more, head tilting back as his eyes scrunched up with joy. Yet soon enough, he went back to what he was working on, no longer softly singing lyrics under his breath. He merely hummed along, trying to figure out the part he was working on.

“Y’know...” You began to toy with a stray strand of thread on your sleeve. “I talked to Cheol yesterday.”

“Mhm?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure how to bring it up. So you sucked in a quiet breath, before finally looking up to watch his face and try to gauge his reaction. “Joshua. What do you think love is like?”

He didn’t seem to hesitate. “I think it’s putting someone else’s needs before your own. Wanting to be close to them, too. Caring for them in a way that’s different than caring for other people.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued to speak:

“It’s the way you make me feel,” he said outright, voice softer this time, as if someone would overhear if he said it any louder. He watched the way you went wide-eyed in response, clearly not expecting him to be so forward. “I was going to tell you differently. I mean, I still will, but--”

“You love me?”

He grew surprisingly sheepish, averting his gaze before giving you the tiniest nod. Strong, warm, outgoing Joshua had been reduced to a shy schoolboy because of one little question from you. “I think I do.”

His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt as though you could hear it from how silent the room had become.

“Oh.” It wasn’t flat. Or disappointed. It was warm, and a little confused, but he could hear the tiniest thread of joy laced into it. You gently bumped against his shoulder again. “Do you want to know how I feel?”

“I do,” he said, “but...” He met your eyes again. “Will you wait?”

... Wait? You’d thought that waiting was a little pointless when the fourteen of you were living this life together. What if things were over tomorrow? Why wait forever? Wasn’t that what Seungcheol told you, too? That you shouldn’t wait to confess to him? “Why?”

“I want to say it right,” he reached out, setting his hand over yours. “Okay? Let me sweep you off your feet.”

He didn’t expect you to laugh so warmly, so full of love at how cute he truly could be. “Okay,” you said, this teasing lift to your voice something he thought you’d gotten from hanging around him so much. “Then do it.”

Joshua set aside the guitar. He stood up, turning to you and offering his hand, and he nearly chuckled at your startled reaction.

“Wait, now?!”

“Nope,” he smiled. “You’ll just have to wait for what I have planned.” He nodded his head toward the doorway, “But I don’t want to give up alone time with you yet. Do you?”

You didn’t, either. With a smile, you accepted his hand, and happily let him lead the way. Although a few others had greeted the two of you, inviting you into a game, Joshua merely told them that the two of you had already decided to go for a walk together. Before someone could try to tag along, he’d already swept you away, happy to steal you all for himself for a bit. Not that he was the only one being greedy: you liked having Joshua all to yourself, too. The way he loosely intertwined his fingers with your own, just enough to keep your hands together but not enough to trap you with him, was sweet. Although when you tightened your grip a little, just to squeeze his hand, he wordlessly squeezed back.

And if he let go of you, just to sit in a shady spot under a tree, who were you to say no when he happily offered the empty space next to him to you?

(Even if it would later net the two of you teasing from Jeonghan when he eventually found you together, hours before dinner rolled around, comfortably sleeping hand in hand.)

Celebrations were always a highlight of having this group. Yes, there was plenty of manual labor that came first... But it would always be worth it to see someone light up, getting attention dedicated to them for a night. If he could see the way you smiled every night for the rest of his life, he’d be happy with that alone. Chan had held your hand as he brought you in, bright petals filling the air as they welcomed you into the group officially. Seungkwan had placed the flower crown upon your head, lips grazing your cheek for just a second--just as everyone else did. Joshua let his lips linger against your skin for an extra second, and found himself feeling a little greedy for doing so... and for wishing that he could steal you away again. He nodded along as Seungcheol eventually did his usual toast, and smiled at the sight of Chan with his arm around your shoulder, ever the dutiful best friend to you. It was clear that everyone there loved you. If nothing else, Joshua knew that you would be loved no matter what. And if his love for you faded into something akin to friendship, it’d still be love nonetheless.

Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had performed their little song and dance routine--and Joshua had beamed the entire time. Maybe it was because you eventually settled into the seat next to him, letting him drape an arm around the back of your chair and press his side against yours. He loved the sound of your laugh, so full of genuine love for the three as they performed. Jihoon performed a medley of his songs--some new, some old, but these medleys were normal for him. Even with broken leftovers of songs he could never find it in him to complete, Jihoon made a complete experience for everyone to enjoy. Even Hansol had a song to perform, incomplete yet so uniquely him. Jun’s monologue had been written by him, Minghao’s art piece unveiled in the same dramatic flair that he always did...

Joshua pressed a kiss right in front of your ear. “Wait for me,” he said, getting up, “This is for you.”

He watched the realization cross your face as he drifted away, getting a guitar as Jeonghan came to join him. He let Jeonghan introduce the song as he prepped the stage: it was something the two of them had worked on with Jihoon, yet only recently finished together. Soon, he was sitting on one stool with Jeonghan on the other, already playing. You recognized the song soon: it’d been the one he had practiced when he told you that he thought he loved you.

I’m falling for you / falling for you... / it’s too late to escape

(And Joshua, in that moment, was certain he never wanted to. Especially when he fell asleep next to you, smiling at your sleeping face and caressing the white rose that Jeonghan had painted onto your skin.)

The song had been part one. Part two began the next day, before most of the others were asleep. He’d departed from your side early--not early enough to beat the others, but early enough that you were still comfortable in your bed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, already moving to make his plans. He’d be making dinner with Seokmin and Mingyu tonight, and that meant he could get everything ready without looking too obvious.

It would be hard to avoid you for most of the day, but the others were a welcome help. Jeonghan would point you to him when the time came, but Seungkwan, Hansol, and Chan had been tasked with distracting you for the rest of the day. That meant staying away from the garden once chores were over, and letting him take the time to make everything perfect. From the string lights that Seungkwan had found for him to the plush blanket he spread out onto the ground... He had to make this perfect.

Seungcheol had found him while he was working. “You’re telling them, right?”

He smiled. “Is it so wrong to make it romantic?”

“No,” he said, leaning against a tree. “Like I told you... Take care of them.”

“I will--”

Yet he had let out a loud, long sigh. “Seriously... They’ve been staring at you for the past few days. How can you not say something sooner? I think I’d break if they looked at me like that.”

Joshua felt the opposite, actually: Seungcheol was in love with the group. It’d take a miracle for him to tell you how he felt, and even then... He’d probably take a thousand years to do it, too. Not when it made him look as though he was playing favorites. Joshua wondered, for a moment, if that was why Seungcheol seemed so okay to give up his love for you. To let you be happy with someone else. He pushed the thought away: maybe, in another world, Seungcheol wouldn’t have to struggle with his feelings... It made Joshua feel guilty, for a moment. But he reminded himself what they both knew: you loved Joshua.

(In another world, if you loved everyone alongside him... Joshua thought he could live with that. He loved everyone else, too, after all.)

He returned inside to bring out the picnic dinner, dessert packed as well in the form of sliced fruit. Especially strawberries, which he had carefully cut the tops off of and sliced in half. It was a simple enough gesture, but one he hoped you would love.

And when you finally came to him, you laughed. “Seungkwan refused to let me leave him until Chan finally told me what was going on.”

Joshua had been sitting on the blanket, but he rose to his feet, hands outstretched for you. “Does that mean you wanted to see me?”

“Silly...” You placed your hands in his. “I’ve been dying to talk to you all day.” With ease, you slipped your fingers in-between his. “About the two of us.”

“Does that mean there is a ‘two of us?’”

He could see you grow flustered, averting your gaze for a moment as you pressed your lip together. “What do you want?”

Joshua began to lower himself down, bringing you with him to sit together. He let go just long enough to push things aside, scooting forward so that he could be closer to you. He gently took your hands in his again, squeezing them as he gathered his courage to say what he needed to say. He knew he felt something for you, that you felt something for him, and yet saying it out loud was scarier. It made it more real.

“I want us.” He ran his thumbs over your knuckles. “I want to love you while we have the chance. I’ve thought a lot about it, and... I don’t know what brought us here. I-I don’t know what brought you to me,” he squeezed your hands, “and I’m okay with whatever it is, no matter what it is. Because you’re here,” he reached forward, fingers curving around your cheek, “and I’m with you. And... And I think that’s where we’re supposed to be.”

“Joshua--”

“I love you.” His heart was racing as he said it. The words felt at home in his mouth. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it back. But... I think I’m yours if you want me to be--”

You’d lunged forward, kissing him hard and nearly sending him toppling back. His hands fly to steady you, and he shut his eyes as he kissed you back. You threaded a hand through his hair, the other cupping his cheek as you smiled into this kiss. Deep down, there was a tiny urge to just lean back. To let you take over and kiss him and... more, if you wanted it. He let his mind go blank for a moment, savoring how soft your lips felt against his own... And then he remembered.

“I,” he said as he gently pushed you back, smiling. His hair was a little messier now. “I made us dinner. And as much as I want to kiss you again...” He cupped your face, “I don’t want it going to waste.”

It earned a giggle from you, and you pecked him on the lips one quick, final time for now. “Right,” you said, leaning away. “We have time.”

That the two of you did. He’d already begun talking about how he’d been working on this earlier with the others, just to make something that would hopefully taste delicious. The others would be leaving you alone tonight, which was ideal. He wanted to be the sole object of your affections tonight and tomorrow and every day that came after, if you’d let him.

“Maybe that makes me selfish,” he said, drawing you in once more, “I can’t keep stealing you away forever, after all...”

Yet your lips slanted against his, and it made him feel free. Maybe he was never the one stealing you away. After all.. You’d stolen his heart within days of coming here. How could he steal you when he was always yours? He’d have to learn how to share you with the others again, the tiny need to keep you close to him building inside him. Just to link you to one another, like puzzle pieces that have fallen into place...

Truthfully, as long as you stood side by side with him in life... He would be happy no matter where you were. Alone or with the others, all he knew was that he wanted you with him until the end.

general taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @cinnamoroxie [unable to tag?] @cherryredcheol [unable to tag?] @gyulbabie

under the sun taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @twogyuu @strawberri-uyu @bbmyungho @thedeeppoet @heeseung-lover686 @jeonncafe @bfwonu @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dreamhannies @yourfavoritefreakyhan @amethyistheart @jeonnyread @nap-of-a-starr @anidolecalledaoife [unable to tag?] @vernxnsfool

#wooahaes.fic #wooahaes.uts #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you

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in-stitchesx · 8 days ago

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Nah after work today I changed my mind I *am* posting

Tw for a good amount of stuff. If you're sensitive right now, I understand. Come back to it another time. This is not a "delete later" post. I don't care if it's serious, and I'm just a silly blog, it needs to be said and seen where I stand on this

These last few days have been an absolute nightmare for everyone. That's an understatement. Everyone is afraid, or at least people with more than a few brain cells

I work at a morgue. I am employed here long term and it is my full time job. I do body transportation and all the other things a mortician would do. If you could know the amount of people who have lost their lives in these last two days alone, by suicide in itself. The numbers have fucking skyrocketed and that's just in a 30 mile radius of where I live, not counting the other homes I've been in contact within the neighboring cities. The sheer amount of these deaths being that of the LGBTQ community, the transgender community, and various groups that would be considered minorities. I have lost two people I knew for years.

This should have never been this bad.

We are fighting against ourselves at this point. You fought for what? To revoke the rights of people who have done nothing to you?

You don't know how many women are going to die because of abortion bans and refusals

You don't know how many children are going to be ripped apart from their families because of deportation

I don't know everything about politics, not as much as some people Im close to, and I won't begin to throw out some number percentage to prove my point or throw out names and dates. You see it. You're seeing it everywhere. We are all afraid and we have good reason to be

Millions are going to lose their healthcare because of this douche. *I'm* going to lose my healthcare. I was already recommended by doctors to sign a DNR because of my health risks and the possibility of losing my insurance as someone with a life threatening illness

And there is so, so much more. What I'm saying is just scratching the surface

I could go on this rant, but you guys aren't here for one of my tangents yet. Ending on another serious note, if you didn't vote, disrespectfully fuck you. If you voted for trump, an even more disrespectful fuck you. Yes I'm even mad even if you voted for a third party. If you fall into those categories I want you off my blog. You don't stand for what I represent and you sure as hell don't respect the people in my communities

For the people I love, friends and whatnot, please stay safe. Take care of yourselves, turn off the phone just for a few hours. It's understandable to plunge into social media when you're stressed and defeated, but block the tags you need a break from, even if it's just for a day. Talk to the people you love, tell them you love them. Don't let them forget it. I'm out, you can get some hot takes from me later. Goodnight yall

#important talk #wybie says shit sometimes

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n3onstroke · 4 days ago

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HURT: a sans au x female oc fanfic.

author ramble: noel is the mc, third person bc i can’t write in anything else, noel is a fucking simp for error but i can’t blame her, that man is sexy ong, BISEXUAL MC YES GOD, noel has a gender crisis idk, she uses she/her for now tho, lots LOTS of cursing like noel has no filter, mainly bad sans but i might toss ink and a couple others in there idk, she’s a monster, MC is NOT human 😅😅, zombie mc YESSSS, mc is sick of everyone’s dumbass questions, physical illness suffering mc, mc has OP magic, mc used to be human but shhhhhh 😵‍💫🤫🤫, mc has non-binary shape-shifting older sibling 🤗🤗, lots of trauma, sarcastic and passive agressive mc, she’s a likin park fan, schizophrenic mc, fucking batshit mentally ill crazy mc undercover, gore, light body horror, bad flirting, too many puns go away, humour, eventual romance, mc fucking loves baking, mc loves cheese and diet coke, neol fucks around and finds out, W’s in the chat, FUCK IT INKS A LOVE INTREST TOO, Noel does NOT like ink at the start, error loves that, bottom mc on my soul she is, tsundere mc??, she’s korean and so is her older sibling, english is not her first language, google translate, she’s so sexy, asexual / not really into / considering sex oc?? asexual (????) i don’t even know, the furthest i’ll probably write is making out / a little touching but that’s it, HYPERSEXUAL older sibling lol, dust and nightmare know korean, noel when dust speaks korean: 🤭🤭😵‍💫😵‍💫😣, noel when nightmare speaks korean: 💀💀😒😒🙂‍↔️🤨, is my error bias showing with this or no, noel is a type 1 diabetic, she’s also lactose intolerant but loves cheese idk, she also is fucking addicted to chai drinks, chronic insomina, like it’s so bad this bitch is CHUGGING nightquil while dream’s and nightmares powers don’t do SHIT. possesive everyone besides Noel because she isn’t crazy (lie), yanderes?? yeah probably, oh my god this is so long, killer being her number one opp (also a massive flirt), nightmare being an asshole for like…99% percent of the time, dust just being husband material, horror force feeding her idk, cross being husband material too (i love him holy shit he’s so FINE GAWDDD), error being a little shit and making noel lose her shit, kind of ooc error because im crazy about them, all the skellies use he/him fuck u, i’m fucking in love with error, the brainrot help, mc hates this shit, mc sleeps with stuffed animals, mc loves horror movies, mc is actually really smart, ERROR HAS FIVE TONGUES HOLY SHIT!!!, NOEL PULLS ALL THE BITCHES ON ACCIDENT????

GENERAL RAMBLE: INTRODUCTION CHAPTER, CURRENT PROGRESS 0/45 CHAPTERS.

TW FOR ENTIRE STORY, BUT CHAPTERS WILL HAVE THEIR SEPREATE TW’s!!!

PLAYLIST:

POCKETFUL OF SUNSHINE

BY NATASHA BEDINGFUL

HELL YEAH

BY JULEZ SANTANA, AUGUST ALSINA

PITBULL TERRIER

BY DIE ANTWOOD

LOCKJAW

BY SIR-MIX-ALOT

USE YOUR HEART- INTERLUDE

BY SWV

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

BY SHE WANTS REVENGE

MONOLITH

BY TWIN TRIBES

WHY’S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKING ON ME

BY BLOODHOUND GANG

THE MEAT GRINDER

BY JAPANESECOFFEE

BROWN SHUGA

BY SIR-MIX-ALOT

FARBEN (ALARM MIX)

BY ORANGE SECTOR

LIVING DEAD GIRL

BY ROB ZOMBIE

TRON CAT

BY TYLER THE CREATOR

SERIAL KILLER

BY SLAYYYTER

GOTTASADAE

BY BEWHY

YOU ARE ALSO LIKE ME

BY NASTYONA

CREEP

BY RADIOHEAD

LEAVING TONIGHT

BY THE NEIGHBOORHOOD

NO MORE

FREDDIE DREDD

ICH WILL

BY RAMMSTEIN

HOLY DIVER

BY KILLSWITCH ENGAGE

FLATLINE

BY JUSTIN BIEBER

CARRION

BY FIONA APPLE

WALTZ (BETTER THEN FINE)

BY FIONA APPLE

GET HIM BACK

BY FIONA APPLE

GIVEN UP

BY LIKIN PARK

THE DEVIL IN I

BY SLIPKNOT

POINTS OF AUTHORITY

BY LIKIN PARK

WITH YOU

BY LIKIN PARK

NIGHTMARE

BY AVENGED SEVENFOLD

BURRIED ALIVE

BY AVENGED SEVENFOLD

DIVA

BY BEYONCE

SONG 2

BY BLUR

TAKE A LOOK AROUND

BY LIMP BIZKIT

PARANOID ANDROID

BY RADIOHEAD

HAND ME MY SHOVEL, I’M GOING IN!

BY WILL WOOD AND THE TAPEWORMS

RAH TAH TAH

BY TYLER THE CREATOR

JUST

BY RADIOHEAD

AESTHETIC:

Tags:

#sans undertale #undertale #sans au #dust sans #ink sans #killer sans #nightmare sans #error sans #cross sans #dream sans #sans x reader #sans x self insert #sans x oc

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months ago

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WIP Ask Game

Ik im late but well, I been vibing over here for once 🤣 anywhooo, thank you @harmshake and @nerdieforpedro for the tags, I love yall 🥹

Its 2024 and we not putting down our writing over here. Ik yall excited, chuz im excited for yall to see what I got on the stove 👏🏽

rules: share the document titles for your 10 latest wips. then send me a number or title (if you'd like!), I'll share a snippet, and I'll add to my wip at least 100 words.

Ya Baby Daddy's Worst Nightmare: Toxic David Kane 😈 before I simp fully for Calvin, I need to finish Watchmen. So in the meantime, lets enjoy Yahya's other fine ass character.

Blackbird, pt 2: Envy: I really love how mob boss Fontaine is going and im excited for this part.

Kill Her Softly: my Mea Culpa rewrite because wtf was that 🥲

Mr. Black, pt...8?: anyway, its the the final chapter. Sorry babes, but its gots to come to an end.

Tale as Old as Time: Beauty and the Beast Stunna.

Every Dose of Me: a lovely moot suggest I try my hand at Isaac from They Cloned Tyrone. We gon see what shakes loose 🤤

Meet Me at Our Spot: (title may change, im not married to it) another Lamont fic. Chuz I neeeeds RJ Cyler in my life.

Wanderlust, pt 2: I know I posted the first one and dipped. My bad yall, the brain rot is real 🥲

Like I Missed Her: another David Kane fic. Chuz 🥲 the brainrot 👏🏽 is REAL

Stress Relief: in which I clean out more of my asks. Who else needs Franklin Saint to just go absolutely ham 🥲 like baby boy is is skrresssseeeddd.

Anywhoooo, thats whats on the stove. Feel free to ask about any of them, they consume my thoughts 🤤🥹🥹🥹

No pressure tags: @miyuhpapayuh @ellethespaceunicorn @notapradagurl7 @wide-nose-and-wonderful @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @babybratzmaraj

#megaminds tag game #megaminds wips #wip #work in progress #whats cookin good lookin #megamind be writing #tag game #tumblr tag game

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crimeboys · 11 months ago

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20 Questions For Fanfic Writers!

tagged by @lunelicmoone thank you so much :D

1: How many works do you have on Ao3?

2: What's your total Ao3 word count?

265,600 <- EVEN NUMBER POG

3: What fandoms do you write for?

dsmp actively!! written for spn and hannibal in the past

4: Top five fics by kudos?

it's nice to be wanted

blood and cigarettes

oh, how i want to be free

washed up

has the moon lost her memory?

this list actually surprised me bc i expected oh, how i want to be free at the top and didn't realize has the moon lost her memory? was that well-liked

5: Do you respond to comments? Why/Why not?

I TRY SO HARD. i really struggle with it for some reason bc i like.want to thank people and talk to them about the fic but also don't want to spoil and i feel like i just repeat myself a lot and yeah ]:

6: What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

the dark of our graves ig? it's like. fully angst though. the ending is just kind of the knowledge that wilbur is worse now and about to make that everyones problem. but also ig that fic is like. a snapshot of a whole story so idk if that counts. moderation ig, tommy and quackity are miserable af ! wait fuck me i was going through my list and flying actually probably takes it, i give tina and hannah gay love for five seconds and then erm well. i don't know i love making bitches miserable a lot of my fics are sad.

7: What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

probably either your world and mine (my osmp rocketduo fic) or it's nice to be wanted :]

8: Do you get hate on fics?

no which is good bc i am a spiteful little man

9: Do you write smut?

no, if there is ever sex in my fics i tend to fade to black and go Please look away this is private.

10: Do you write crossovers?

no, i don't like putting the characters i like in the same universe i like putting one set of them in the other universe and making them miserable within it instead.

11: Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

12: Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah, blood and cigarettes was translated to russian!

13: Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no i am kind of scared of doing that actually i would get nervous.

14: What's your all-time favorite ship?

uhh idk recency bias says ctntduo

15: What's the WIP you hope to finish but doubt you ever will?

teehee

16: What are your writing strengths?

dialogue

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

description and conclusions. ending a fic is my worst nightmare im so bad at figuring out the right note. actually beginnings too i struggle to figure out exactly where to begin.

18: Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

sometimes people speak other languages so ? positive? if someone ever speaks in a language i don't understand in a fic i simply use google translate.

19: First fandom you wrote for?

percy jackson !! i actually probably wrote sonic the hedgehog fanfic when i was younger but i don't really remember i just remember drawing little comics.

20: Favorite fic you've ever written?

tbh i really enjoy blood and cigarettes. shoutout to bell forever for inspiring me to write that thang

tagging: @belltheash @bonesandthebees @lacystar @ literally anyone who wants to do it im completely blanking on all the writers i know rn. even if we are not mutuals just say i tagged you idgaf have fun !

#text post #mine #tagged #yayy thank you #also if you do this ask game please do not reblog this and add to it just make another post i'll sob and cry and throw up otherwise

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elvain · 1 year ago

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First 5 prime numbers 🫡🫡

1. the character everyone gets wrong

i think im gonna say pietro but with the grain of salt that i am only in 1982 in my reading journey. based on where i am at, i feel like he tries very very hard to do what is expected of him or what he thinks he has to do, but it evidently does not always go his way. anti-synthezoid moments aside, he really was there for wanda growing up as both a brother and a semi-parental figure despite them being twins. and i really enjoy his marriage to crystal as of 1982 as well but everyone seems to have a very very negative opinion of him that does not seem grounded in his actual roots/origins. but mayhaps this opinion of mine will change very soon, who knows

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

idk i wanna say the "buy a crab and save the billion dollar website" but if we are talking about specifically fandom-related takes, people who think tony is bad in bed are wrong 2 me specifically and i dont wanna hear about that panel with gamora because sometimes good sex ends like that too esp when its a one night stand with an alien assassin!

5. worst discord server and why

any server with more than 40 people is a literal nightmare for me

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

answered here but i will provide a new answer as well. getting real tired of emma frost bc of how people are so divided on whether or not she's "good" like relax. she's called the white queen.

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

marvel related tags come to about 6. filtered tags in general maybe 40+

choose violence asks

#ur absurd #asks

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identity-theft-101 · 19 days ago

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MMMM Identity Lore?

I guess have a bit of a sixth sense and occasional premonition-ish dreams?

Every once in a while I'll get a very strong urge to do something- like 'CLEAN. NOW.' or 'WAIT. YOU CANT LEAVE YET.' and these have saved me. I got the bad juju one night on closing shift at work, and I couldn't get myself to leave until 20 minutes after I was supposed too--- and I passed a massive crash--- one I would have been in if I had left earlier. A week before my Elder Cousin passed, I had a horrible nightmare of a car crash. I didn't know who it was, but I remember being extremely distressed by the dream, Moreso than I normally would be. After a week, I got a call from my mom saying that I 'needed to come home', and I knew at that point without any more information... that dream had been about my Cousin. My dreams in general are extremely Vivid and are cinematically shot.

I also have auditory things that happen.

Ever since I was little I could 'hear' things. I don't know what the sounds are. Certain sounds are things only I can seem to hear, and if I follow the sorce- sometimes I'll find a cool rock, other times I'll find danger. They freak me out a bit honestly, so I wear my headphones alot, it helps. White noise helps. Mom used to say that "The fairys spoke to her as a kid, and they also speak to me" whenever I told her about them as a child. The sounds happen less these days.

I have some sort of memory issues regarding stressful situations. If I get too Incredibly stressed about something my brain will delete the memory, I'll continue to do things during this timeframe... but I don't remember anything about it, as far as im aware i usually paint.. This is infrequent.

3 is my favorite number and I once lectured someone for 47 minutes on why it was the best.

I have forgotten to eat for a span of days before, I can forget that I am hungry and not register the hunger pains. I have alarms to remind me to eat.

I get genuinely distressed if I accidentally smack one of my plushies too hard. I also rotate them out so they all feel loved.

I can see a wider variation of colors than most people

I have a Tattoo, designed it myself, and had hallucinations during the tattoo session.

@officialdaydreamer00 @kirans-wonderland @dove-da-birb get tagged lovers /aff

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

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gaslybottoms · 5 months ago

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tagged by @fewtrell, thank you andy, i am putting off what im supposed to be doing to play

1. Do you make your bed? absolutely not. hate doing it on laundry day, am not going to do it at 6am

2. Favourite number? 7

3. What’s your job? work in a paint store and i want to climb in the paint shaker so bad i think it would fix me

4. If you could go back to school, would you? no. i didnt even go to uni. by the time i was 18 i was Done.

5. Can you parallel park? yes, but not first time and if i am put under pressure about it i Willl crumble

6. Do you think aliens are real? i had a nightmare about aliens when i was a kid so i choose to belive no

7. Can you drive a manual car? only one i know how to

8. Guilty pleasure? i dont think i have one?? would love for someone to tell me otherwise

9. Tattoos? i do not. funny story i nearly got a supernatural tattoo when i ws 19 can you fucking imagine

10. Favourite colour? green

11. Favourite type of music? uuuhhhhh... i dont think i have a specific genre or artist, sometimes i just turn spotify onto my daylist or recommended and zone out for a few hours

12. Do you like puzzles? jigsaw puzzles yes. logic puzzles no.

13. Favourite childhood sport? does it count if i say horse riding because i started learning when i was 9 - even though now to this day i have a horse

14. Do you talk to yourself? literally all the time. i get the most sense out of me

15. Tea or coffee? depends. hot tea, iced coffee (as long as its like caramel latte and not cold brew)

16. First thing you wanted to be when growing up? vet.

17. What movies do you adore? disneys hercules is the best of that era and i wont hear otherwise. i have literally forgotten every other movie i have ever watched

tagging @leclercenjoyer @scythewrites @fenesacha and @golden-fairylights if you so desire

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batz · 4 years ago

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#ok so had a lot of nightmares last night m tireddd #had a dream marmalade was alive again and that sounds like a good dream but it Wasnt #i had her on my lap and i was petting her and it felt Wrong and i was telling her that she shouldn't be here bc shes dead #but i was happy 2 have a couple more moments with her. but everything was Wrong #and then i woke up and saw the bad number fucking /everywhere/ and im just worried its like an omen of some sorts #im also severely mentally ill and not getting proper treatment bc of pandemic so that could potentially be it.#i just miss marmalade #my mom has happy dreams of marmalade and i have dreams where marm is alive again and thats a Scary Not Good Thing #bc u kno when ur Dead u gotta stay Dead. typically how it works.#i miss her tho n even tho it ws just a dream ig it was nice bein able 2 pet her again.#just wish it was a happier dream #i cant help but feel on edge.#frank.txt #animal death m #death m #ask to tag

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skenpiel · 4 years ago

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god i had a really fucking terrifying dream where lovecraft once made ideas on what horrifying deep sea creatures exist and that well never see, and they each got more terrifying and larger the deeper you went and while learning about them i got like, pulled down and engulfed by each one of these beings each way fucking more horrifying than the last

#i remember being in a cold dark ocean curled up cause i wasnt really there it was like. a projection type thing.#and i was curled up and crying because all around me were this huge black tentacles of some weird absolutely giant menacing squid monster #and i didnt dare to look at it but i could feel its hundreds of eyes burning holes in the back of my neck #that was really fun!!!!! i think that was the closest thing to an actual nightmare ive had in years!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D!!!!!!!!!!#the absolutely ENORMEOUS squid (i wanna note it was impossibly large like. larger than a skyscraper)#it was kinda based on the magnapinna squid?#but black and way wider and again fucking gigantic and it had way more arms and hundreds of eyes #and an incredibly menacing glare!#i dont remember what any of the other creatures looked like but that was the deepest one and also the worst #i think it was said that lovecraft predicted 7 layers of the sea? or maybe 8 #well the number isnt really important #this dream was almost a full on nightmare and that makes me so excited!!!!!!!! i hope i can get more interesting dreams #hey i should get a dream tag actually i think ive written down multiple of my best ones here #skenps dreamland #sure that works #i wish days were shorter cause i get the most lengthy dreams at night when i have like 15 hours of uninterrupted sleep #i sleep as much as i can in hopes of getting good dreams but obviously i get more interesting ones on 15h rather than 5h #still though a dream is a dream and im happy with anything!#well. almost anything.#in case youre confused the reason im so excited to have had a nightmare is i have SO many bad dreams but theyre never scary #theyre based off trauma and they make me feel so worthless and uncomfortable and unsafe and gross #theyre never scary i just wake up and feel so disgusted with myself #i havent had a proper nightmare for years so this dream was a nice change of pace #mom said my meds might be fucking my brain up a bit and theyre the reason i get uncomfortable dreams but who knows #i prefer having dreams about unrealistic things that scare me rather than traumatic memories that remind me of my past thank you very much!#ask to tag

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 3 months ago

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you can't just give me "the trickster has a Ghostface mask" and "the trickster saw traps people" because I WILL make him do both of these things and it WILL be so fun the whole time . god. yeah he's so fucking fun to think abt bc it's so easy to justify why he'd do stuff that doesn't make a whole lot of tactical sense. HES NOT TACTICAL. he's not manipulative!!! it was EXTREMELY HARD for him to be patient enough to get Ashe to even trust him in the first place, and the only reason THAT even worked in such a comparatively short amount of time was bc ashe has been so completely isolated for such a huge chunk of his life he didn't understand that's what was happening !!!!!!! GOD they make me insane. anyway pointing back to tags I made on the original muse fic "hey mac why would the trickster literally invite the city's most powerful child soldiers directly to where he's hiding with their best friend isn't that a bad idea" YES. OF COURSE IT IS. BUT HE WANTS TO GLOAT HE WANTS TO BE PETULANT AND CHILDISH AND BE LIKE..FINDERS KEEPERS !!!!!!! ohhh the crux of his character to me is that he's so. silly and childish and unserious and lax in responsibility and those things combined with his powers are EXACTLY what make him so fucking scary ‼️‼️‼️

anyway yeah muse holy shit every direct interaction they have is so completely coated in The Ick and it's so fucking good. thank u for making the sleepover comparison that's EXACTLY what I've been imagining. fuckign. the parallel to Ashe's Real Friends. ashe would sit on the floor while dakota sat behind him on the couch playing with his hair. muse sits in a chair while trickster stands behind him putting his hair in all these fancy braids and just. giggling meaningless gossip like they're teenage girls. AND HE DOESNT EVEN HAVE TOOOOOO. GOD. HE COULD JUST MAKE MUSE DO IT HIMSELF. THERES NO REASON FOR HIM TO EVEN BE IN THE ROOM OTHER THAN FOR HIS OWN . AMUSEMENT I GUESS. EEUGHGH I hate his ass .

I've been. as scary as this is. I've been imagining tricksters powers working almost like Taylor's in the sense that he can multitask to a wild level and also sometimes see/experience things through his puppets. I think he'd be WAYYY more limited than taylor- he can only consciously directly control a smallish number at a time; he can create as many puppets as he wants but it mostly becomes a "give an order to a crowd and they'll carry it out" and he only has a select few that he DIREXTLY controls. and he can choose to kind of experience things through one at a time . I don't know where I was going with this I just wanted to talk abt his powers a little bit I think.

ok I need to fucking talk about your tags now because oh my GOD somehow I've only ever imagined ashe having his lucid moments like. on the battlefield or in the middle of a really dramatic moment or whatever. but holy shit this is so much worse. he has them when it's quiet. do you think he ever has one while he's being used as like.. a silent bodyguard or whatever for trickster while he's..idk making a show of power or meeting with another villain or whatever. and all muse has to do is stand there and look pretty and be. part of the show of power until trickster tells him to do something . and in the middle of that ashe kind of wakes up and has this moment of panic like "oh god oh fuck I can't be here im so fucking scared but I can't move I can't let him know I'm any different" and it's just this terrifying scene of "oh no what if he knows" before trickster eventually like. snaps his fingers or whatever and his power snaps back on . nothing comes of it but it's one of those things ashe Remembers bc I do think he remembers most of his lucid moments. aaaouugjhhb fuck oh fuck oh shit. nightmare nightmare nightmare!!!!!! don't even get me fuckign started on post-muse ashe and his trauma responses to basically every shred of comfort he could possibly receive. god. I can't even add anything to that it's just so good. once again virion sol is everyone's rock!!!!!!!

oh you wanna think about muse and trickster? yeah? it's been a while since I put a heartbreaking nhw post in your inbox <3 I know u love the prime dehumanization loss of bodily autonomy defenders. << im not even remotely trying to keep the acronym the same anymore. I've lost the plot. ANYWAY

briefly mentioned this before but because I loooove the aesthetic so much I think at least one important muse confrontation should happen in the tricksters city, specifically in the amusement park. make it like a fuckign scooby door episode everything is all abandoned and run down but as the wards are walking down a boardwalk or something all the lights flicker on and some distorted fuckign. carnival music starts playing and they find muse sitting in like. the rebar scaffolding or whatever in the ferris wheel. just like grinning chin in hands kicking his feet watching them. this image is so clear in my mind. some creep shit !!!! also its like when they first go to the spirit world to get tide back from.mal and end up in the amusement park. except ashe isn't with them this time

uhhhhhh also thinking about. downtime. when muse isn't out being destructive and causing chaos for funsies. like... does he have a bedroom????? does he eat does he sleep??? idfk !!!! I would assume he has to or else he'd fucking die but !!!! man the trickster is so far gone I don't think he even realizes his puppets are real people anymore. that's a fun little doll for him to play dressup with. literally never going 2 get the image of him braiding muses hair and like. putting makeup on him and dressing him in fancy little outfits out of my mind. making myself ILL. smile! good evening I'm gently placing the knife box in your in. << as I was going to type inbox I accidentally typed out inventory. yknow what I'm keeping it. knife box directly into your inventory. watch out they're RUSTY

GOD. THANKS FOR THE KNIFE BOX MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! knife box directly in my inventory!!! u know what this means is that now i can use them :3 <- has been drawing wards stuff abt this for the past two hours ^_^

this is so fucking good though yeahhh.... i love creepy carnival shit so much. he trickster probably Knows it's very over the top and horror movie creepy and just a little absurd. he's so fucking fun 2 think abt since he's literally always doing shit simply because it is funny to him. we can swing a trickster justification for anything probably. i bet he fucking saw traps people!! anyway. ashe isn't with them this time. except..... well. he kind of is. :(

I HAVE ALSO BEEN THINKING ABT DOWNTIME. FREQUENTLY. i guess. the answer to this is he lives however the trickster&co does. the image of him coming back in his fancy intricate little outfits to some disgusting nasty bloody industrial warehouse where they're posted up & always being this very jarring contrast to the gore and violence is really good. the image of him having a perfect doll bedroom and going through a fancy little routine half the nights when the trickster is in a good mood or feeling it & just. getting thrown on the bed & the door locked to pass out for a couple hours whenever he forgets or is busy is also really good. literally anything we do to muse makes me feel some kind of way man. i also have had the extremely vivid image of the trickster braiding his hair & chatting about all kinds of horrific things excited sleepover style to muse who is just. Visibly Not There in my head for so long. not even like he has to touch him, he could be making him do all these things for himself! he's literally controlling him! he just does it for fun!!!

anyway i think post-muse ashe should get to freak out very badly in a multitude of ways whenever anybody touches his hair. like i think he's touch-adverse in general (& miserable about it because he's also so touchstarved & his brain simply whites out in distress anytime anyone touches him because. literally the only person doing that was the trickster!!!!) but i think specifically his hair being messed with is a bad trigger for him. makes him freeze up n go nonverbal for hours. dakota knows that he's jumpy about touch but he still wants to do something for him & before the everything he loved them playing with his hair (its so long!! wibby & dakota think its so pretty!! virion's the only one who knows how to braid it because of his mom!! ashe melts into a puddle over it every time because nobody's ever done that for him before!) so he goes to just run fingers through it & ashe just. fullbody locks up and goes weird and still and silent & doesn't protest or fight back when dakota shakes his shoulder or smth and his eyes are distant and sort of dark and empty like virion's were most of the time when they first met him... maybe he wants to cut it a little bit just because he hates that it's been covered in The Ooze and he can't do anything with it without thinking about how the trickster would do the same thing but also he hates the idea of getting rid of the one thing abt himself that he really likes & is a little connection with both of his parents because of the trickster also, when he's already taken so much from him. (it does have to get gross and tangled and matted because he refuses to put it back or do anything to it for a while though. maybe virion helps him sort it out & it's slow and painstaking and miserable for both of them and they both feel better at the end of it.)

#head in hands !!!!! muffled screaming!!!!!#have literally been thinking abt this all morning. god i hope my afternoon isnt garbage bc i REALLY want to have art energy when i get home #aauagahagahaghggghhhhhhhhhhhhh #can anyone hear me its so dark in here. thinking abt muse sitting in the rafters of a ferris wheel all day.#and tricksters mask collection #thinking abt ashe coming to in a body that is not his own anymore in an outfit thats too tight and uncomfortabl #he feels like there are shackles on his wrists and ankles bc hes not used to the constriction of stiff sleeves and boots and theres a sort #of weird physicaliy to the strings around his arms and neck and his head hurts from being in a too-tight ponytail for hours on end #and trickster is laughing at whoever hes talking to snd all ashe wants to do is start crying and use his powers to go home #but he knows if he breaks character in this moment it woulf be a death sentence. .....#DO YOU FEEL ME. YHIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST NIGHTMARISH SCENARIO IVE EVER THOUGHT ABOUT AND ITS BEEN #PLAYING ON LOOP IN MY MINDDDD SINCE I READ THIS POST THIS MORNING. GOD.#hi. thinking abt them forever #new haven wards #long post #<< the mose useless tag ever. im noy putting this under a cut tho.

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kojinnie · 4 years ago

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Something About Pain | Reiner Braun

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader (she/her pronoun)

Summary: You ran away from home and your boyfriend Reiner Braun is desperate to bring you home. When the two of you meet, you share a conversation about how pain inflicts the two of you differently.

Tags & Warning: Angst, (eventual) fluff, (mild) hurt/comfort, slow burn, major miscommunication problem, past trauma, abandonment issue, mention of anxiety, Reiner is a grumpy, hurt individual yet delicate inside | SFW

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: Based on the request by @okubean for Twisted Match-Up! I hope you like it, boo! (More A/N at the end of the fic)

.::My Masterlist::.

Twisted Match-Up (x Reader): Zeke | Hange | Jean

There was a vivid look of worry on the face of Reiner Braun as he drove through the empty neighborhood streets. His right hand on the steering wheel, the other one tapping anxiously on the phone, dialing the same number over and over again to no avail.

All of his calls had gone straight to your mailbox, and his text messages were no longer delivered. Reiner came to realize that you've blocked him. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, cursing this whole modern affinity to accommodate people running from their problems easier. Reiner thought the feature was the stupidest thing ever created by humankind, he was pissed, but more annoyed. He realized how tired he was, and if he could, he'd rather be in bed right now. Not roaming your friend's neighborhood at ungodly hour.

"Where... the fuck... are you..." he was pissed, evident from the grunt as he tried one final desperate attempt to call you. It went straight to your mailbox. Your cheery voice didn't make him feel any better, if any, Reiner wished he could tell the mailbox-you to shut the hell up.

Reiner finally hit the brake, sighing annoyed. His black SUV stopped underneath the streetlamp, at a random neighborhood he could only vaguely remember. He had been here before, when he picked you up from your bestfriend's house after one of your "night out" with your friends from college, but he could barely remember which one of these identical suburban houses did she live.

He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, racking his brain trying to remember the house number. Is this even the correct cul-de-sac? There are tens others. Who the fuck came up with the concept of suburban housing? Strips and strips of uniformed houses. And even worse, who the fuck thought that it was such a great idea to live in one? Like some Stepford Wives nightmare. Reiner couldn't believe some people would save up money for all their lives to pay off their mortgage to live in complete conformity, like a communist utopia with capitalist credit system. Were these people right in the head or had their brains fucked over by the boring 9 to 5 jobs they've had for decades?

That's beside the point. Reiner sighed. He ranted a lot when frustrated.

He knew you'd be there, in one of these houses, curled up crying in your bestfriend's bed, perhaps pouring your heart out on how much of a bad boyfriend Reiner was. He knew because you've passed the micro-aggression millionth times, muttering under your breath, saying that you'd be fine if Reiner kicks you out because your bestfriend would take you. What kind of fuckery was all that? Why would he ever kick you out? Reiner thought. He was clueless. Why were you so adamant that he would leave you eventually? Reiner could feel his annoyance grew while reminiscing your antics. He began to think, maybe he had never understood you to begin with.

But Reiner was wrong, because he was right about a lot of things about you. You were exactly in your bestfriend's house, curled up in her bed, ranting how hard it was being with Reiner. Although the tears had dried since hours ago. You were in your PJs and drinking the hot coco your friend had made you, comfortable in the bliss of obliviousness upon the fact that your boyfriend of one year was now driving aimlessly trying to locate your position. You were adamant that he was going to leave you anyway, you thought he wouldn't exert an ounce of energy trying to plea you home.

It was 4 AM in the morning and you hadn't come home. The trace of you had gone completely from Reiner's apartment since early morning. Reiner knew that this was bound to happen, had he done anything differently - would you stay? He thought of you and the state that the two of you had been tangled in. All the unresolved tension, or the persistent insinuations coming from you that you always shrugged off in the end, saying "Nothing." as if it did not matter, each time Reiner shot them with, "What did you say?"

You sipped your hot coco and let a troubled whimper as you told your bestfriend what was happening. It's the culmination of small things, your feeling of inadequacy and the anxiety of waking up every morning, being convinced that each day would be the day that Reiner finally leaves you. Every day you’d be mentally preparing yourself for the ultimate fate until Reiner returns home with his big, warm hug until your anxiety caves in. And that the anxiety would appear again in the next morning.

The idea of him leaving became incessant and you could never bug it off. You wondered why, maybe because you believed that you were inherently flawed. Maybe it's the way Reiner made that small "Tsk," when he came home to see the garbage piled up, "Babe, didn't I tell you to put out the garbage?"; or the deep, annoyed and condescending sighs he made when he missed his favorite show because you forgot to pay the cable bills while he was out at the office.

Maybe it's the way you couldn't match his sharp memory and reliability with you constantly forgetting things and your seeming inattentiveness despite the abundant reminders, notes and alarms you've made to keep yourself alerted. At times, your mind just wandered, and you needed him to rope you back in, but he never got the gist.

So, you were adamant that you had grown to be nothing but inconvenience for him, hence when he spent the night over at his office due to what he called "Shit load of work" over the phone, you were certain he wouldn't come back at all. You knew that the pain of being abandoned would haunt you to myriad of miseries, so you'd rather leave first. You knew it would be the end you both needed, because you knew Reiner did not care about you enough to tolerate your shit any longer. He was always quiet, there was hardly ever any expression on his face, God knows what he was thinking underneath. Each of your "Reiner, I'm sorry." would only be met by a singular hum or a quick, "It's okay." that left you wondering, did he ever mean it at all?

So that morning you left. While he was still at the office, because you knew there was no feelings strong enough for Reiner to keep him from leaving you eventually. You left first.

Your bestfriend nodded in reassurance, "You gotta do what you gotta do." she said pulling you into a warmly hug, but your attention was suddenly caught by the pile of plastics and packages from your take-outs at the corner of your friend's room. It just bothered your mind, and you got up to take it out. A small token of atonement to what you wish you had done to Reiner.

Your bestfriend immediately scrambled and took the garbage away from you. Insisting for you to stay in bed and let her take care of it. You nodded and retreated to the pillow fortress. You felt bad for her because the temperature was dropping, and there was no necessity to take the garbage out right now, but your impulse was often hard to subside, and your friend had grown to acknowledge and take sympathy over that. Unlike Reiner, you thought.

Maybe it's because Reiner never shown anyone openly about what he felt, but what you did not know, sometimes he wish he had. Sometimes he wished he'd opened up about how hard it is for him to breathe when unfortunate things occur that he did not have the answer to. Sometime he wished he could share his fear, worry, anger and disappointment, but he was always thought that a man got to suck it up, and perseverance was the only way he knew how to survive.

Sometimes he wished he had told somebody that the constant worrying about his loved ones consumed him too, to the point it became hard for him to let his guard down even when things are okay. He was always on alert, and sometimes it got exhausting too for him. He wished he had told all that, so in times like these he did not have to assume the heartbreak alone while trying to find the solution to it. Sometimes he wished people knew that he cared too, he loved too, he knew too when someone he loved was struggling, but he never learned how to show it. Reiner knew your mind often raced hundreds of miles per hour, Reiner knew your state of agitation, but he never had anyone to teach him how affection should look like, other than be of service, which he tried his best at being. It was no wonder that Reiner was left clueless when you chose to leave without warning.

He was pissed because he knew how daft he was, yet none of it was ever intentional. He cursed himself for not knowing what went wrong, for not being more observant, for not being open with his feelings, for not telling you how much he had grown to love you and how much his apartment immediately grew cold at your absence. But mostly, at this moment, he cursed himself because he wasn't attentive enough to know you friend's house number.

The air was crisp when your bestfriend stepped out of her porch. She made quick steps to the garbage can when she saw bright headlights coming in from the end of the street. She grunted, wondering what was her neighbor doing, cruising around with dramatically low speed. It seemed odd.

She put her fingers above her eyes, trying to recognize the plate number or the driver, but the black SUV lights were dispersing her sight.

She closed the garbage can and tried to immediately return inside but the car cruised closer and pulled over in front of her. The window rolled open.

"Hey," There was an immediate look of surprise from the person that Reiner barely recognized. But he was sure enough that it was her, judging from her body language; all tensed and alerted, "This is Reiner."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between Reiner and your bestfriend. She was considering carefully on what to say next.

"Uhm yeah, I know." Your bestfriend finally spoke, her voice creaked, caught by surprise. "What do you want?"

Reiner spoke your name, "I want to meet my girlfriend." Reiner could hear the desperation in his own voice, but your friend jeered in response.

"My girlfriend." she passingly mocked the way Reiner spoke, she came to dislike what she thought was possessiveness in Reiner's nature of speaking, "She's not available. I suggest you to scram. Before my neighbors complain."

Reiner furrowed his brows in dismay, couldn't seem to understand the hostility presented by your friend, "I need to talk to her."

She stood unyielding. Reiner opened the door and climbed off of the car, sighing as he walked closer, propelling your friend to keep her distance away even further. "Please, let me talk to her."

"Not a chance." She turned around and scurried back into the house. Reiner was quick to yell, to her expected dismissal. Without thinking further, Reiner got back to behind the wheel and moved his car forward on to the curb, proceeding to close off the exit way for her small city car in the driveway.

Reiner jumped off the car as your besfriend realized what he had done, "I'm not moving the car until she comes down."

She let out a restraint shrieked, "What the fuck?! I got a dentist appointment tomorrow morning!"

"Then please, tell her to come down and talk to me," Reiner said, sounding almost apologetic. He threw a glance at a lonely swing set in the small park across the street, "there."

The occurrence happening before your eyes was unexpected to say the least. You closed the small slit from your bestfriend's window fold, trying to manage your heartbeat that had become almost deafening. At the same time your bestfriend appeared from the door, face red with flustered, "I think he really wants to see you."

Thousands of thoughts made a commotion in your head. It did not make any sense. You made it easier for Reiner by walking away with clean slate, you were sure this was what he had hoped secretly.

Your friend shuffled inside and shot you a deep stare, she sighed heavily and told you that whether you liked it or not, you had to face him. Reiner looked genuinely worried, she said, twisting your guts even further.

You sat in her bed for a moment, trying to relive every waking moment with Reiner. Sure there were moments when your own thoughts chased you into a deep corner and you wished Reiner had seen it. Sometimes you wished he’d hold you tight, kiss you with reassurance and told you how meaningful you were to him. Sure, sometimes being with Reiner could feel lonely, but he had never treated you back nor was he ever intentionally mean to you. What do I want? The question hung heavy in your mind.

I want him to say that he wants me, the voice within the nook of your brain said, I want him to say that he loves me.

You nodded, finally ceasing from running away further.

Reiner never thought that at his 20-something he would sit miserably on a random swing-set at a random neighborhood just an hour before the dusk cracked. Reiner was a big man, but even with his figure and the aid of his tailored suit and shirt, wrinkled after gruesome hours at work trying to keep his company afloat on the thin ice of his personal relationship with you – Reiner was tired, and miserable, and desperate. Even more, he was cold as the temperature continued to drop down.

He hung his head low, trying to fight the shivers. It was quiet, too quiet, only the faint sound of the wind and the creaking sound of the swing-set holding off to its dear life under Reiner’s massive weight. The man sighed, never he thought that the sight of you coming out of someone’s house in the dead of a night would be a spectacle he looked forward to the most.

He closed his eyes, shutting himself off from any sound and thought. Thinking that maybe in the bleakness of his sense, the time would pass faster and your heart would soften.

In the nothingness Reiner could feel a sudden warmth crept from the tips of his fingers, he opened his eyes to see you standing before his eyes, towering him who was sitting like a pathetic boy on the swing. You were wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, hiding your PJs underneath. In your hands were two cups of scalding tea, you shoved one into his hand, “You came.” You stated.

Reiner let out a deep sigh of relief as he saw you safe and sound. He felt warmth travelled across his body, he did not know whether it was the tea in his hand or simply the sight of you that made him felt so. His eyes latched on to you as you sat on the swing next to him, “Hey. What are you doing?” Reiner asked.

“Running away.”

“Why?”

Reiner looked at you intently, and the guilt started to consume you. You gazed afar, softly shook your head, “Dunno.”

“I see.”

Yet another silence ensued.

“How’s work?”

Reiner sighed again; the heavy breath seemed to be the only way the two of you communicated. Just two troubled minds pouring their burden at each other, “Bertholdt abruptly resigned—fuck, it’s been a nightmare, but—” Reiner pressured his thumb over his brows, trying to ease his sharp migraine that suddenly came, “—that doesn’t matter now. Will you come home?”

He looked at you again, you were still gazing to god-knows-what, everything other than his eyes. Reiner grew antsy on his seat, the swing creaked again. Please look at me. Please look at me. The words resonated incessantly in Reiner’s head but nothing came out of his mouth. Just a stoic, to-the-point question.

Don’t you wanna know the problem, Reiner? Is that all? I said I don’t know and you didn’t even try to dig in deeper? You came all the way here and you just straight up asking me to go home with you? Your mind was nowhere better. It’s in uproar but there was only silence coming out of your mouth. But he came, he didn’t leave. Contradiction danced inside your mind like an unwanted guest.

The silence grew heavier. You saw the lights from your bestfriend’s bedroom lit off, she had got to be tired eventually. Suddenly, you felt so alone. Just the two of you in this odd morning.

“It’s hard, right?” Reiner broke the silence, he looked at you again, this time he was desperate for you to look into his eyes. Little did he know, you were refusing to do so because you could feel your fragility forming in your eyes. You swore not to cry.

“What?” Just a depthless answer you uttered.

“Growing up.” Reiner muttered. The man sounded almost contemplative in his defeat. He sighed again and shook his head, “I thought I’d be someone better by this time in my life.”

The answer surprised you. You thought he would say something like ‘Relationship is hard’ or some jargons he picked up from one of the movies he watched without you. You felt bad for undermining him just because you were upset with him. Does it really mirror your true perception of him? Maybe you really hadn’t known him that well.

You had no resolve to his statement, so you just nodded, allowing him to pour out his thoughts.

“I thought I’d be better with my job, with myself, and most importantly,” he shifted to lurch towards you on his seat, the wire strings of the swing twisted to your direction, “with the people I love. But obviously, I still… suck.”

“And here I am. 4 AM. A fucking adult on a fucking neighborhood swing-set.”

You could feel the air suctioned out of your lungs, as you felt guilt loomed bigger inside you. He came and he felt bad – what more could I ask for? But then you remembered the nights of loneliness despite having Reiner sleeping next to you. You had a bad day, but you were too prideful to come clean. You wanted him to be intuitive, but he never did. Being with Reiner, you had mastered the art of crying in silence while sharing the bed with him. It’s exhausting. Yeah, Rei, maybe you’re bad at this.

Despite that, you stayed silent.

“Will you hate me if I say I don’t know what’s wrong?” Reiner knew how daft he sounded, “God. I’m pushing my luck coming clean at you.”

You were at loss for words. You had so many things to say, but too few of a courage.

Reiner called your name. He reached over and tried to tangle one of your fingers with his. From your periphery sight, you could see him forcing a smile, “I—”

He sighed again. Reiner’s chest was filled with words and all he wanted was to vomit it out, but he never knew how to properly addressed the feelings he had—he couldn’t even describe what he felt. All he knew was one thing: he wanted you home, back in his arms, “I am a stupid man. I really don’t know what’s happening between us. You.. just.. gone. Please, just tell me what’s wrong. I’m not smart enough for all these..”

There was almost a childish plea in Reiner’s words, and you couldn’t help but to threw a faint smile. You chuckled, “What did you say? You’re—what?”

He scoffed at himself, “I am stupid.”

You finally caved in because you realized there was an undeniable genuineness in the way he spoke. And the sentiment was mutual, you felt stupid as well for you had not realized how completely, utterly, truly clueless Reiner was.

Eventually, you looked at him. His hardened face quickly turned wary to finally see how puffy your eyes were from crying earlier, you forced a smile, but it was clear you were pretending, “You make me feel so lonely sometimes.”

The words came out of your mouth like a canonball that had been stuck in your chest for too long. You felt relief, but on the other side, Reiner could feel his heart broke. A pain from a man realizing too late of the damage he had caused.

You thought of everything that had made you feel so. The way Reiner rolled over in bed away from you, drowsy and unaware, when you called him in the dead night as your anxiety kicked in; when his hand let you go as you tried to hold his hands in public; the complete non-existing mention of you in his social media; the take-outs that he mindlessly brought home when you had cooked dinner; his easiness in dropping a problem after he said sorry without checking up with you further.

It was the absent of his intuition that made you felt invisible – but you realized too late that maybe he was truly oblivious, evident as he said, “But how?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Babe,” he further tangled your fingers into his grasp. Your hand and his, they hung in the middle of the two swing seats, “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“I’ve always thought you wanted to leave me but never got the right moment to it. The affection—I hardly ever got it from you. Not the affirming words, not the reassurance. Hell, maybe I want that public kiss and hugs that you thought was stupid, Rei. Just—”

You could feel the tears forming, choking you mercilessly, “—just to feel loved. To feel wanted. For once.”

You finally let your tears dropped. And Reiner was slapped with realities that both of you were in. He let go of your hand and stared down at the pavement, “I’m sorry. I never knew.”

“You never asked.”

“But I never knew. How am I supposed to know that I should ask when I didn’t know I should ask on the first place? I’ve always thought you wanted to be left alone when all your crazy thoughts come in—but you—”

“—you—"

Reiner groaned, obviously frustrated. He rested the blabber, “Maybe we’re just not good at this.”

Like a train, you could feel the ending coming to hit you. This is it. This is it. You thought to yourself, picturing how Reiner would finally leave you. You secretly wished Reiner wouldn’t give in, you wish he’d put up more fight, so at least you’d know that you carried a weight in his heart. But you knew this was bound to happen, so why were you so upset?

“Maybe.” You wiped your tears dry, “That’s okay, Reiner. I know that’s what I am.”

“What?”

“I’m just an embarkation point, right? Everyone will leave me eventually. That’s why I left, because I know eventually, we’ll be talking about this. So I’d better leave first.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Reiner grew even more frustrated with the way you danced around your words.

“It’s okay if you want to leave me. That’s what all people do to me.”

“You left because you think I was planning to leave you all along?” Reiner asked, sounding painfully offended as he finally got to gather what you were insinuating, “So that is the problem?”

“Yeah, so I better leave first, right? Before I get hurt again? Before you leave me like other people and—”

“Fuck other people!” Reiner raised his voice, which he immediately regretted. He ran his fingers over his hair irritated, turning it into a complete blond mess, “Are you trying to avenge your revenge for other people—those exes you’ve had—on me?”

Tears welled up again in your eyes, as you looked away from him. But he called on your name again, this time there was a deep sternness in his call that you couldn’t help but to face him. Reiner was glad that you finally gained courage to speak the truth, when he had not, “So you want reassurance, yeah? How about the times I told you how beautiful, how smart, how great you are – only for you to tell yourself the opposite immediately.”

Reiner looked directly into your eyes, “I can’t make you something you’re not. What you are is who you think you are.”

“You can never matter – if you don’t think you do.”

An expressionless, soundless tear fell onto your cheek. A heart broke to your dismay. Reiner finally said the truth and there was no way you could delude yourself into thinking that he was wrong, “Then… why don’t you just leave me, Rei? Why don’t you get rid of me a long time ago?”

“Because I’m giving you something that I never received in my entire life, ever. I’m staying for you.” There was a palpable pain in the way Reiner spoke. He landed his finger on to your heart and you could feel it pierced through your skin with heavy realization, “I’m staying. Like no one ever did in my life. Not my ex-girlfriends, not my friends, and certainly not my father. That’s what makes us different. I have more faith in you than you have in me.”

Reiner was a man with heavy heart. He had been through a lot of things in his life, learned how to fend on for himself since very young, and dreamed of the day when he could finally put his hair down with someone he cared for. And what you hadn’t realize, was how essentially similar you were to him. How both of you longed for someone to let go of your inhibitions and fear? Just two broken people finding refuge in each other’s longing for the same thing. And that’s what you failed to see. He understood you, just in a way you didn’t understand.

And that’s the thing about pain, they are inherently personal. No matter how much you have shared yourself to others.

The two of you went dead silent for a moment. In the horizon, the sun rays were starting to emerge, the morning had arrived. Your tears cascaded painfully slow; Reiner was looking at his feet trying to sip his tea that had gone cold. His hands were trembling with both sadness and anger that were beginning to secede.

Reiner finally called your name, this time it was delicate, “I’m sorry, alright?”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes as you nodded, “Alright.”

“Will you come home, now?”

“Yes,” you muttered, “I think I will.”

The two of you got up and Reiner immediately drew you into his chest, holding you the tightest you had ever been held, reconnecting all the broken pieces scattered inside you. You buried your face into his strong chest as you sobbed once more, while he kissed the top of your head with affection more vivid than thousands of words of affirmations.

“What do we do with these hearts, Rei?” You asked as you felt your chest throbbing with pain and love.

The man loosened his embrace and smiled, “Persevere.”

A/N:

First of all thank you so much to @okubean for giving me a hellish prompt! This one really made me faced my own abandonment issue and poured it into a writing. I tried to touch about the absent-mindedness as the implication of ADHD but I’m really worried that it doesn’t really do it justice. So hereby my sincere apologies! 😭🙏

Nonetheless, I really hope that you may enjoy this piece and I’m so sorry if it comes off as boring!

I literally drafted this on the metro, and got really carried away with it!

Did I enjoy it? (Yes)

Did this turn out longer than I expected? (Yes)

Am I worried this will bore people? (Yes)

#reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner fluff #reiner angst #aot reiner #snk reiner #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan fanfiction #aot #snk #aot fanfiction

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