#so that part in the trailer brought back memories

[duplexide]

As the only "Strange World" fan in existence, I CANNOT WAIT to see Disney's next massive flop about weird aliens.

[say-al0e]

What Are Friends For

Rating: M | This is smut, no one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: A conversation with friends reminds you that you're about to begin college as a virgin. It bothers you more than you care to admit so you consult your best friend, Eddie; is virginity really that much of a turn off? (Or, best friend!Eddie takes your virginity) Warnings: virgin!reader, PinV, some nerves about virginity and first times. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.2k

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, one knee bent with an elbow resting atop it, in a rare display of quiet contemplation. With his back pressed to the dresser, cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, he scribbled in the notebook he used to write lyrics and, occasionally, plan campaigns. 

Rain pattered against the roof of the trailer, heavy and loud and easily drowning out the tape Eddie had playing to fill the quiet. From your perch on his bed, yellowed paperback held open in your hands, you could see it falling in sheets outside the window. With the weather so dreary, there was little you could do other than sit inside - bored, miserable, rereading a book borrowed from Eddie’s shelf that you could practically recite in your sleep - and with him otherwise occupied, you were left alone with thoughts you preferred not to dwell on.

Though you’d read the book in hand a dozen times, could recite the notes Eddie’d scribbled in the margins by heart, if he asked, it would be impossible to relay where in the plot you’d stopped. The words that usually captivated you blurred into one, a mess of nonsensical characters in fading ink, so you dropped it into the sheets with a quiet sigh and rolled onto your side to glance at Eddie in hopes of finding a distraction.

The dark curls you loved were tamed into a low bun, hair swept away from his neck to provide some sort of relief from the oppressive summer heat, with a few strands framing his face. The plush of his lips were swollen, bitten in concentration over the course of the day as he stared intently at the paper. Those dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he scribbled relentlessly and you could see the tip of his tongue as he pressed it between his lips.

Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest were replaced by a cutoff Metallica shirt, cropped at the bottom to expose his lower stomach - the band of his shorts, the missing band of his underwear, the dark smattering of hair just beneath his navel between splotches of ink trailing into the band of his shorts - every time he shifted. Most of his tattoos were on display, save for the ones near his collarbones, and you wondered if he realized you could draw most of them from memory.

It would’ve been nice to be able to say that you were struck, just in that moment, by how attractive Eddie was. To confess that you’d never noticed how achingly beautiful your best friend was would’ve been a lie as his beauty was something you’d always seen.

Few things baffled you more than how people - closed-minded classmates, shallow girls who sought out pigheaded jocks - saw Eddie as anything other than breathtakingly beautiful. His personality was enough, a kind heart and a brilliant mind, but personality aside, you always thought he looked like someone out of a magazine. He was a rockstar stuck in tiny little Hawkins, a figure from your wildest fantasies brought to life.

The wild curl of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the bright glimmer of his eyes; it all made you giddy, a little lovesick in a way only Nikki Sixx had so far managed. With every glimpse of Eddie that you stole, you grew a little more enamored and as a conversation you’d had earlier that morning simmered at the forefront of your mind, you wondered if that was part of the problem.

A conversation with friends, the majority of whom rarely pressed about your love life - mostly because they knew there was nothing to share, in part due to your feelings for Eddie - that began as excited chatter about college, classes, and, ultimately, boys, sent you spiraling.

Somehow, the conversation went from playful fun to pressing for details about your lack of dates and, finally, a shared certainty that college would change things for you. However, an off-handed comment about inexperience being a turn-off made you question whether college would change anything at all.

Pulling yourself back to reality, reminding yourself that the only opinion that mattered was your own, proved impossible. Every thought that crossed your mind centered on your inexperience, a trait your friends acknowledged and giggled at, and you couldn’t stop yourself from calling out.

“Eddie?”

If he noticed the tremor in your voice - and, this time, he likely didn’t - he said nothing. Instead, he hummed his acknowledgement. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

The pet name was casual, something that slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had done a thousand times before without a second thought, but it never failed to set fire to your skin. There was something about the way his voice wrapped around the word, a little rough around the edges but dripping honey - a little darker, a little deeper - in a tone you’d never been privy to, that had your heart hammering in your chest. The thud of it was loud, drowned out the music and the rain, and you wondered if Eddie could hear it, too, as he glanced up at you for the first time in an hour.

Whatever expression you thought you’d hidden, however careful you imagined you’d been, Eddie saw right through you. With only a tentative glance at your face, his lips pulled into a frown as he dropped his composition book into a pile of laundry before shuffling closer to you. When he sat with his back pressed to the bed, arm lifting to rest on the mattress as his hand sought yours, you could see the concern clouding his eyes. “You alright?”

A brief thought of brushing him off, of pretending that you were fine - bored, or maybe tired, just for an excuse to have sought his attention - but Eddie knew you well. He’d seen your face, caught the glimpse of upset in your eyes, and wouldn’t settle for anything less than a real answer.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your knees and spared him a sideways glance. “I… You know how I’ve never…”

An annoyed huff, bothered by how difficult it seemed to be just to say the words, escaped as you shook your head. Eddie tipped his to get a better look at your face and the weight of his gaze burning into your skin made it difficult to concentrate. Regardless of the knowledge that this was Eddie - someone who loved you, someone who wouldn’t judge you or laugh at you, despite how objectively stupid you imagined you were being - it was still difficult to string together a coherent sentence.

“Can you not look at me, please? I can’t think with you looking at me.”

Eddie was unfazed by your request. It was one he’d grown used to over the years, one you threw at him every time you wanted to discuss something serious - or embarrassing or simply vulnerable - and couldn’t find the nerve. So, instead of questioning you, he simply pushed himself up and climbed onto the bed to join you. He shifted his body to press his back to the wall, stretched his legs across the mattress, and held out a hand.

“Alright, c’mere.”

When you placed your hand in his, shifted onto your knees to shuffle a little closer, Eddie twined his fingers with yours and tugged. With little effort, he hauled you onto his lap. A soft hand pressed to the back of your head and guided your face to hide in the crook of his neck - a position you’d been in a thousand times before, a position that made you feel safe to bare your soul.

This time, however, you felt your heart begin to hammer against your ribcage as you grew overwhelmingly aware of the heat of Eddie’s body pressed to yours. Everything seemed too clear, too loud, too real; the green apple scent of his shampoo, the herbal hint of weed that always seemed to linger, the softness of his skin as your hand rested against his bicep, the firm press of his body as he held you in place, the callous of his fingers as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to brush at the bare skin of your back.

It was almost too much.

Rather than comforting, you felt Eddie’s touch set your skin alight. It needled at your nerve endings, hastened the pace of your already spiraling thoughts, and you nearly lost your train of thought as he hummed to regain your attention.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The rasp of his voice in your ear, warm and soft and concerned in a way he only ever seemed to be for you, cut clear through the hammering of your heart. It filled your chest with a sticky warmth and you inhaled as deep as you could in an effort to steel yourself for the conversation you weren’t certain you wanted to have.

“You know how I had breakfast with my friends this morning?” Eddie hummed, acknowledging the plans you’d had before the day devolved into rain and quiet. “We were talking and I know it’s stupid, but I just… I started thinking about it and I couldn’t stop.”

Eddie hummed, acknowledging and encouraging you to continue, as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really been on a date and guys don’t really like me. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, it’s not,” you amended, huffing slightly as you traced his tattoo idly. “But there’s not a lot I can do to change it. Anyway, they were kind of laughing about it. They were talking about college changing things and then Amanda said it would be a major turnoff and I… Well, she’s right. I don’t want to go to college a virgin who’s never even held hands with someone romantically. It’s not a major deal but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I really don’t want to have some cute college guy ask me to make out and have to tell him that I’ve never done that and him think I’m a total loser and lose interest in me.”

The entire confession spilled past your lips in a rushed whisper, mumbled against Eddie’s skin in a hurried huff as you wasted no time thinking. Thinking about it, agonizing over how to express your concern, would only make it harder and you knew that getting it all out in the open would be the easiest option.

Still, that did little to calm your racing heart as Eddie’s hands stilled against your skin.

“Sweetheart.” He sighed, understanding and just a little gentler than you were accustomed to, as he lifted one hand to cup your cheek. “Look at me, please.” With great effort, you allowed him to tip your head so that he could search your face. After a beat of silence, he assured you. “There’s nothing wrong with still being a virgin and it’s not a turnoff. If some asshole college guy thinks any different of you, that’s his loss. Just means he’s not the one for you.”

Rationally, you knew that.

That was something you’d told yourself a thousand times over, a reminder repeated every time the topic arose. But rationality had little place in the whirlwind of emotion the conversation drudged up.

“I know,” you promised him, dipping your head to focus on the fading letters of his t-shirt. Tracing the nearly destroyed ink, you hummed. “I just… I don’t want to be pressured into it and I don’t want it to be a bad memory. I know it’s not going to be perfect but I just want it to be good. I want it to be like something from a movie.” Though you didn’t really want to know, though you knew it would only curdle the already sour thoughts in the pit of your stomach, you allowed yourself to ask. “How was yours?”

Eddie laughed quietly as he resumed his soft stroking of your skin. “Nothing is like the movies,” he declared, pausing only when you huffed. “Not to rain on your parade or anything,” he teased. “But all of my firsts were pretty shitty. My first kiss was under the bleachers in junior high and she laughed at me after because it was just a dare. And my first time was over in, like, three seconds. I was high and horny and came the second she let me inside. I’m just glad she never told anyone. But shit happens, sweetheart. It gets better, easier. Just find someone you trust.”

Without thinking, you said, “I trust you.” For a split second, it felt as if the world stopped spinning. You willed a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole as you immediately lifted your hand to cover your mouth. “I don’t… I don’t know why I just said that. Fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie. I-“

Instead of allowing you to pull away, to put a considerable amount of space between you both, Eddie held you tight to his chest as he tipped your head once more. “It’s okay,” he assured you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. There was no hint of anger - no disgust or annoyance, no amusement; none of the negativity you imagined you’d see - and you swallowed your rising panic as he urged, “Calm down, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you repeated.

“For what?” Eddie’s question was honest, uncertain as to why you were apologizing, and you could only shrug as you withered beneath the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know. I just… felt like I needed to?”

A beat of silence passed as Eddie studied your face. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for but he seemed to find it as his thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“Complete honesty, alright?” It was a request Eddie made rarely as he always trusted you to be honest. It was only made in moments like this - moments of unrivaled vulnerability, moments that saw you both struggling to speak normally - and you granted it readily.

“Alright.”

“Is this… Do you want me to be your first?” The question was blunt - maybe more so than Eddie intended - but you appreciated his directness even as you inhaled sharply.

“I think so,” you admitted, unable to shift your gaze even as his warm brown eyes set your skin alight. “I mean, I trust you, more than anyone else. You’re… You’re Eddie,” you pointed out, smiling softly. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think there’s anyone better.”

“This isn’t something you have to do, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose it right now,” he reminded you, soft but certain. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Whoever you end up choosing, if they’re the right person, they won’t mind. I know you trust me but you don’t have to choose me just because you want to get it over with.”

“That’s not why I’m choosing you.” Eddie tipped his head, an uncertainty few others were allowed to see flickering across his face as he awaited your elaboration. “I know that this will change everything,” you admitted, voice a whisper behind the rain.

“It doesn’t have to,” Eddie interjected, voice as quiet as you’d ever heard it. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, is entirely up to you.”

“But I want it to!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in your voice, but kept quiet as you continued. “The reason I’ve had so much trouble finding someone else, someone I want, is because I want you. I have for a long time.”

Though you’d known how you felt about Eddie for a long while - swallowed it down, hid it for fear of ruining the best friendship you’d ever had - admitting the words aloud felt final. It felt heavy, sinking to the pit of your stomach like a stone, but you knew that the only way out was through.

There were only two options. The first, Eddie would reject you - never harshly, soft and sweet in the way he seemed to only be with you - seemed most likely to you. But the second, that was the option you wished for.

Eddie returning your feelings, wanting you just as you wanted him, seemed plausible some days. When he held your hand in crowds, when he lounged in his bed and spent hours discussing books and movies and music with you, when he threw an arm around your shoulders and grinned brighter than the sun every time you made it to one of his shows; you saw a future in which he loved you, too.

But insecurity, irrational and loud, told you that you were imagining the softness of his touch or the gentle tone of his voice. It made you uneasy, kept you from admitting your feelings for fear of the worst, and you nearly wished you’d allowed the insecurity to win as silence stretched around you.

Until Eddie spoke and destroyed any remaining shred of insecurity.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while, sweetheart.”

Soft fingers brushed across your cheek, tracing the slope lightly as Eddie watched you blink owlishly. There was a moment of stunned silence, a beat in which you wondered if your dalliances with the supernatural had damaged your hearing more significantly than you’d realized, before you inhaled deeply.

“Are you… are you sure?”

The soft smile on Eddie’s face was reassuring. “Very sure. Remember when we first met?” A spark of memory - a flash of the past, the moment you nearly bowled him over on your way to find Steve before facing yet another supernatural threat - as your brows furrowed. “I started going to history after that, just ‘cause I knew you were in that class.”

“That’s been a while.” It hadn’t, not really - not in the grand scheme of the misery of Hawkins - but it felt like forever as Eddie shrugged.

“Time flies,” he declared with a half-shrug. The soft brush of Eddie’s fingers across your rapidly heating skin continued, easily mapping the features you occasionally caught him studying with an intensity you now recognized as love, and he smiled as you inhaled a shaking breath.

“I don’t know if I remember a time before falling in love with you.”

The admission was quiet, a whisper in the still of Eddie’s room, but it felt as if you’d shouted it. Vulnerability was not new, not with Eddie, though baring your soul so completely was terrifying. He accepted it easily, however, and smiled as he cradled your jaw.

“You don’t have to butter me up, sweetheart,” he teased - an effort to lighten the mood, not downplay your emotions, and ease the deafening thundering of your heart. “I’m already yours.”

With that, he leaned in and bumped your nose with his own. He waited, giving you the final choice - whether you truly wanted to take that step or not - and allowed you to make the first move.

Though you knew Eddie would never make fun of you - not for something serious, something that meant so much to you, anyway - there was still a sense of hesitance as you studied him. Up close, you could see the tiny imperfections, the little lines and freckles and spots that made him, him, and you knew that this was what you wanted.

Before he could reassure you, tell you that it was fine if you weren’t sure, if you needed more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss itself was not perfect. It was not something out of a film, with fireworks and an immediate, instinctual understanding of what to do. It was clumsy, a little tentative, and curious, but it was good. The warmth of Eddie’s palm bleeding into your skin, the brush of his curls as his bangs tickled your forehead, the soft exhale he released as you pressed closer, just a touch relieved you felt comfortable enough to trust him with this; all elements you would’ve never considered important before the moment at hand.

But all too soon, it was over.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Eddie broke the embrace, pulled away just enough to allow you to draw in a deep breath, and smiled. “You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he teased, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he took in the sight of you - glazed eyes, parted lips. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”

With anyone else, it would’ve felt like a slight - a jab, rude and mean-spirited - but you knew Eddie. You knew that it was light, fond, and rolled your eyes in response. “Breathe, got it,” you nodded, serious in your study. “Any other notes?”

“Nah. For a first kiss, it wasn’t too bad,” he hummed, after pausing a moment in faux thought. There was a dramatic air of seriousness, though you could tell he was still teasing. “Technique could use a little work, though.”

There was a twinkle in his eyes, a glittering mirth that told you he wasn’t poking fun at you - not really, not maliciously - and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded. “I suppose someone will have to teach me,” you reasoned, fingers twisting in his curls when he hummed as if it was the most rational thought. “I learn through experience.”

That grin returned, bright - pleased that you seemed to have relaxed; and, truly, you had, as there was nothing to fear in Eddie’s embrace. He’d proven that time and time again. “Lucky for you,” he hummed, tipping his head to brush your lips with his own, “I’m an excellent teacher. Very committed. Willing to spend all night here, if that’s what it takes.”

Then, his lips were on yours once again.

This kiss was more certain, a little more eager, as Eddie took the reins and guided you. He used the hand cradling your jaw to tip your head, to turn it just the way he wanted, and hummed encouragingly as you melted into him. It was still a little clumsy, still exploratory in a way you’d never experienced, but to you, it was perfect. 

And as Eddie’s free hand began to drift down your shoulder, careful not to move too fast, you broke from him just long enough to speak.

“It’s okay,” you promised him, breathless - chest heaving, lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

With that, you returned your mouth to his.

Every press of Eddie’s mouth to yours, every swipe of his fingers over your heated skin, should’ve made you more nervous. This was farther than you’d ever gone, a complete deviation from the norm in which you were overlooked - only heard about experiences such as this from friends - and you worried there would be an overwhelming anxiety in the pit of your stomach as you attempted to gain some of that experience. 

However, as Eddie’s hands began to wander and his tongue traced the seam of your lips, you found that it was the exact opposite.

Eddie made you comfortable, set you completely at ease.

The idea that this would be the culmination of every experience you’d dreamt of having didn’t make you nervous. The rapid thundering of your heart was not from fear but an excitement, a gratitude that your firsts were being taken by someone you’d loved for so long.

There was an eagerness, not to get it over with but to experience it - to understand you’d been missing. And Eddie seemed to realize that as his hands began to dip beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he urged, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes - grinning when you blinked slowly, attempting to regain your sense of reality. “How’d you imagine your first time? Bet it was romantic, maybe some candles or something. Not here, with Metallica playing in the background.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted, fingers playing with the strands fallen from his low bun. “But other times it was quick, in someone’s backseat with the radio playing, just to get it over with, I think. But, lately…” Eddie hummed, urging you to continue, as his hands drifted higher - fingers brushing the underside of your breasts, dragging back down your stomach and stealing your focus. “Lately, it’s been you and it’s been here and Metallica’s been playing in the background. You’re in my head but you’re prettier in real life.”

“Flattery, sweetheart,” he teased, grin bright as he tipped his head to nose at your jaw, though you could see the emotion glittering in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about this,” he admitted, hands lifting higher - cupping your breasts, earning a gasp from you at the warmth of his palms against your skin. “‘Bout you, here. What you’d look like, what you’d sound like,” he hummed, appreciative when you sighed contentedly as he began to knead the soft flesh. “Think I like the real thing more.”

From your position on his lap, you could feel him growing harder, pressed to your thigh as you shifted. He hid it well, his own desire, but you heard the sharp inhale he released as you reached for the scrunchie holding his hair back and brushed the tent in his shorts. 

“Can I take this off?” The question was breathed against your skin, nearly lost to the heavy thud of your heart, but you managed to nod as Eddie’s hands fell to the hem of your top.

Eddie had seen you in a bathing suit before, had seen you in just a bra after a torrential downpour left you both soaked and shivering, but this was different. Soon, he would see you completely and though you felt a bit of nerves, you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t judge. So, you shifted and worked to get rid of the soft fabric.

When your shirt joined a handful of others on his floor, he made no effort to ogle you - though you imagined that would come later, when he knew you were well and truly relaxed. Instead, he returned his mouth to yours and his hands to cup your breasts.

With you sufficiently distracted, Eddie easily maneuvered the pair of you so that you were on your back, lying pliant beneath him. When you hummed, laughed slightly at the bounce as you both settled into the mattress, he broke the kiss and pressed his mouth to your rapidly overheating skin. He started at the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, before beginning to trail a path down your throat. 

“If you change your mind,” he hummed, voice muffled against your skin, “just tell me. Tell me everything, okay? Don’t worry about being too loud. No such thing.”

“Not gonna change my mind,” you assured him, voice pitching higher as his teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “Want this, want you.”

At that, Eddie continued his descent. His lips left a trail of fire in their wake and you gave in to his urging to not worry about your volume. With each brush of his mouth, each tickle of his hair against your skin, you made no effort to hide the soft noises of pleasure. And with each one, Eddie seemed to grow more and more eager.

Those wide eyes lifted to meet yours as he reached your chest, one hand kneading soft flesh as he nipped at the sensitive skin of the opposite breast. He sucked a bruise into the skin, shooting you a wink as he did so, before dipping lower and capturing your nipple between his lips. And when you gasped, hands flying to his hair, he hummed in approval.

Eddie spent a few moments focusing on your breasts, moments in which you realized you couldn’t have chosen a better first partner - someone who loved you, someone who was more interested in making the moment good for you than he was in the act itself - before he began to dip lower.

“I’m totally down to eat you out,” he offered, glancing up at you with those wide eyes, “but if you’re not up for it yet, that’s okay. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

For a moment, you considered his offer. The press of his body to yours, the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his hands and mouth; it was all overwhelming, in the most beautiful way. Still, you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted in that moment. It sounded fun, and he seemed very serious about his offer, but you weren’t sure how much you wanted so soon. So, you decided to decline his offer, for the time being.

“Next time,” you promised, fingers carding through his curls as he pressed soft kisses to your stomach. “I… Sounds nice, but feels like too much this time,” you admitted, not ashamed but almost.

Eddie, however, easily accepted your answer. “Might be,” he agreed, with an easy grin. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.” It was teasing, accompanied by another wink, and made you roll your eyes.

“You’re pretty good at never closing it,” you countered, squealing when he nipped your skin. 

“We’ll revisit this conversation when you’re comfortable,” he teased, grinning as he shifted up and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

As he distracted you with a kiss - this one messier, more eager than the last - his hands continued to wander. They trailed down your stomach, traced the same path as his lips, before dipping beneath the band of your shorts. His fingers brushed the warm skin, earning a sharp gasp.

“Still okay?” The question was breathed against your lips, and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you assured him, though your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest. “Still okay.”

Calloused fingers dipped lower, brushed over the fabric of your panties, and slipped between your spread thighs. There wasn’t a ton of room for him to move, and you realized that he was at least trying to get you used to the sensation as his fingers brushed the fabric covering your folds. If he felt the damp patch - he did, you could tell by the pleased grin he wore - he said nothing. He would tease you for it later. This time, he simply returned his mouth to yours.

Eddie gave you a few moments to adjust to his touch, his fingers brushing the fabric - teasing, soft - before he nudged the now soaked fabric aside and allowed his fingers to drag through the slick gathered there. His touch was light, not hesitant but conscious, careful, waiting in case you changed your mind.

It should’ve made you nervous, should’ve set you on edge, but there was only pleasure as you melted into his embrace and tugged at the curls framing his face as his thumb found your clit.

The touch was electric, filled your veins with a blistering warmth that seemed all encompassing, and you began to understand why your friends made such a big deal of it all. The touch itself was good, better than your own fingers, but knowing that it was Eddie, with his wide eyes and pretty smile, made it that much better.

Every press of his fingers grew more experimental, dragging through your folds and coating his fingers in slick. He teased, brushed lightly and swallowed every sigh and soft moan you released. And after a few long, torturous moments, he finally pressed a finger to your entrance and pulled away just enough to catch sight of your face.

“I’m okay,” you promised him, before he could ask. He hummed, acknowledging, and slowly began to pump his finger, getting you used to the motion. “I kinda get it,” you hummed, gasping as his thumb brushed your clit.

“Mm, get what?”

Eddie pressed a second finger in, then, and his fingers were larger than yours. It was a bit of a stretch, a little more than you were used to, but it was nice and you told him as much as you leaned in to nip his jaw. “Why people like this, why my friends talk about it all the time.”

A quiet laugh filled your ears as he began to work you open, careful to prepare you. “Good. Glad this hasn’t put you totally off sex forever,” he teased, before he brushed his thumb over your clit and earned himself another moan. “Glad you’re not totally questioning why the fuck you thought trusting me with this was a good idea,” he laughed.

“I trust you with everything,” you promised, gasping as he began to work his fingers a touch faster and pressed a spot that made your head spin. “Oh, fuck.”

“There?” Eddie grinned, pleased to have found that spot, and made certain to pay special attention to it as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “C’mon,” he urged, “make some noise for me, sweetheart.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, and with the quickening press of his fingers into you, you found it easier and easier to make the noise he was hoping to hear. Though his space was limited, he made the most of it. He paid close attention to what made you gasp, what made you sigh, what made you moan. And with each swipe of his fingers, with every brush of his thumb over your clit, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into him as the fire burning in your veins threatened to consume you entirely.

Though your friends warned you that much of it was over quick, you hadn’t quite anticipated just how fast Edie would be able to push you over the edge. But after only a few moments of his eager ministrations, the press of his fingers and his thumb and the brush of his mouth over your heated skin, you found yourself falling over the edge with a cry of his name.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice tight as he lifted his head to watch you - the part of your lips, the flutter of your lashes, the heave of your chest. “Look pretty, coming for me. Wanna make you do it again.”

The gravel in his voice, a rasp you’d never heard, made your head spin and your chest ache in a pleasant way as his fingers continued pressing, pushing you through the aftershocks. All that existed in your mind was him; Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Despite the difficulty you felt in catching your breath, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pulling him close and pressing your mouth to his.

Eddie easily gave in, allowed you to take your fill of him, and only removed his hand from between your thighs when you grasped his forearm. However, he didn’t pull away entirely. He simply slipped his fingers beneath the band on either side and began to nudge the fabric down.

Without breaking the kiss, you shimmied out of the fabric - no longer caring about being entirely exposed, only caring about having him closer. In the midst of the kiss, Eddie shifted, arm reaching out blindly and swiping at his nightstand. He caught a few stray items, knocked them from the table with a clatter, and you laughed as you broke the kiss.

“What’re you looking for, Eds?”

With a bit of space between you, he eagerly pulled away just enough to tug his own shirt off - up, over his head, joining the fabric on the floor - before shoving his shorts down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing any boxers and you felt hesitant to glance down, despite the permission he gave you. No matter how comfortable he made you, some things still felt like too much for the first time, especially when you’d been half-certain you would lose your virginity in some dark room and now you could see Eddie all too well.

“Condom,” he answered, grinning when you flustered. “Don’t suppose you have one in your bag, sweetheart?”

“Can’t say I do. Wasn’t exactly expecting… this.” In fact, it was the last thing you’d been expecting from your visit to Eddie’s. However, you weren’t going to complain.

“Good unexpected?” He turned his full attention to the nightstand, then, shuffling through drawers and you laughed as you hummed your agreement.

“Totally.” 

A metallic jingle caught your attention and as Eddie shuffled through the items in the nightstand in search of a condom, you searched for the source of the sound. A pair of silver hoops, hanging on a hook near the bed, caught your eye and you inhaled a shaking breath.

“…are those handcuffs?”

Eddie laughed, the noise quickly covered with a triumphant hum as he found the foil packet, before his full attention returned to you. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, warm and bright, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry about those right now, sweetheart,” he urged. “Eyes on me, yeah?"

“Can I worry about them later?” The question was teasing, tinged with only a touch of nerves as Eddie settled between your spread thighs and allowed one large hand to softly grip the plush flesh.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already thinking about next time,” he teased with a grin. “I’m creating a monster.”

“Your monster.”

That brilliant smile remained, bright and wide, as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. “My monster,” he agreed, words mumbled against your lips. He kissed you, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you boneless beneath him, before he breathed a gentle reminder. Those soft eyes met yours as he said, “We don’t have to do this. If you’ve changed your mind, if you wanna wait, that’s okay.”

“I want this. No one I’d rather do this with.”

Eddie shifted closer, then, rested more of his weight atop you and shifted so that the tip of his cock bumped your aching clit. When you inhaled sharply, fingers pressing harshly into his shoulders, Eddie shifted his hips and notched the head of his cock at your entrance. And with a final nod of your head, he pressed forward.

The immediate experience was almost expected - your friends told you that it would hurt, that the first time wasn’t much fun. Only, it wasn’t so much pain as it was discomfort. There was no blinding pain, no tears, just an odd sensation that made you squirm. There was a sharp pinch, a sensation you’d never felt before, but it was bearable.

And you told Eddie as much when he lifted a hand to your cheek and asked, “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you assured him, still a touch breathless as he pressed closer. “Doesn’t feel good yet but it doesn’t hurt.”

Eddie leaned in, pressed a kiss to your cheek - to your nose, to your jaw, to your forehead - before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “It’ll feel good in a minute, when you get used to it.”

As difficult as it seemed, you believed him. You knew that he was right, and that he would do his best to make sure you were comfortable, so you simply tangled your fingers in his hair and buried your face in the crook of his neck to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses against the heated skin.

After a moment, Eddie was fully sheathed inside, body pressed to yours as he waited for you to give him the okay to move. As you adjusted, the kiss grew more heated and his hands wandered, returning to your core as his thumb found your aching clit.

When you jolted, clenched around him, Eddie broke the kiss. “Fuck me,” he laughed, tipping his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “Promise I’m not always ready to blow this quick. You’re just so fucking tight.”

“Flattery,” you teased, breathless as you tugged playfully at his hair. “’S’okay. You can move.”

With your permission, Eddie began to experimentally shift his hips. He moved slowly at first, pulling out only an inch or two, before he began to move in earnest. 

The pace was slow, easy, but with every shift of his hips, the better it got. The discomfort began to fade, giving way to a fullness that was more pleasant than you expected. And with his thumb brushing your clit, gathering the slick, you felt yourself enjoying it more and more.

“You know,” he hummed, lips brushing your skin as he continued shifting his hips almost experimentally, “it’s kinda hot, how much you trust me. ’S’like you’re in love with me or something.”

“Unfortunately, I am.” It was so soft, so fond, that Eddie couldn’t seem to find a teasing reply. The words were accompanied by a sticky warmth in your chest, so glad to have your feelings out in the open and returned.

The way Eddie treated you made the warmth that much more pleasant. He made your enjoyment a priority, eyes on your face as he watched for any signs of discomfort. Even as his pace grew faster, hips snapping into yours - driving deeper, pulling out farther - now that you’d adjusted, he still kept his full attention on you.

And when you felt yourself beginning to fall over the edge for the second time, he hummed in encouragement. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, only just beginning to show how affected he was, voice wavering and breath a little labored. “Come for me. Sound so pretty when you do.”

After a few more snaps of his hips, you fell over the edge and Eddie was quick to follow with a low curse.

The high was unlike any you’d ever felt. It flooded your veins with fire, scorched you from within, and you swore you saw stars as you rode out your high. Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck to catch his breath and, after a moment of desperately attempting to catch your own, you carded your fingers through his disheveled curls. He remained atop you - weight not quite fully pressed into you but enough for you to feel - for a few long moments before pulling out and tying off the condom. He stood, disappeared into the bathroom to toss it into the trash, before he returned and fell back into bed beside you.

“So,” he hummed, bouncing onto the mattress with a laugh and tugging you into his side. “First time. Not some frat guy in the backseat of some fancy car, or in some shitty dorm room but, not bad?”

“No,” you agreed, tipping your head to press a kiss to his collarbone. “Not bad. Not some frat guy but I think this was better.”

“You think?” Eddie scoffed with faux outrage. “Okay, well, clearly we’re gonna have to do this again and again and again until you know that this was better.”

Though the night began with an insecurity, in that wonderful way of his, Eddie managed to turn it into a beautiful moment. And though you were starting college in the fall, you knew that you wouldn’t be starting a virgin or searching for some frat boy to help you gain the experiences your friends so often spoke of. You would be starting college with a boyfriend and the knowledge that your love was requited. And you loved the idea that Eddie would be with you for every next step.

After all, what are boyfriends for?

__________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Slowly but surely going through the WIPs I have had for months. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe,��@ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[haru-natsuka]

The Unending Daze Side Story 3 (Malleus Draconia x Wife Reader)

>> Trailer <<

"My darling wife, the joy you have brought me throughout the years is without compare. Our children are fortunate to have been gifted with such a loving and caring mother as you,"

Malleus spoke with affection, his voice like honeyed words that melted the hearts of everyone that heard it. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

But just as you were getting used to this blissful scene, your old friend, Ace arrived in an unexpected turn of events. He claimed that he was your husband, which left you perplexed and bewildered.

"Wait a minute, that's not right! I'm your real husband! He's just trying to manipulate you with a dream. Wake up, now! Our children need you! I need you, Y/N!"

You were unsure how to proceed, caught in the middle of a confusing situation. In this situation, you feel conflicted and uncertain about whether your old friend or your darling husband had spoken the truth.

>> HEAD TO CHAPTER LIST

>> SIDE STORY 3 [END] <<

You stood there, overwhelmed by the abundance of choices before you. The bakery was like a three-tiered bakery, with the aroma of freshly baked goods filling the air. It was no wonder that the place was teeming with customers from all level.

You recalled Lilia's story that this particular bakery had been established hundred years ago by the Clover family. No wonder their food were not like others. The scent that wafted over you felt somehow nostalgic, as if reminiscing about happy memories. So weird.

It was the start of the new year, and you and Malleus had carefully laid out plans to travel to the Queendom of Roses. The purpose of this journey was to expose your future heirs to new experiences and a different cultural background, which would play a crucial role in their upbringing as princes.

Malleus believed that this experience would be invaluable for their development, as it would foster an understanding and appreciation for diverse perspectives. He wanted his sons to grow into well-rounded individuals, able to navigate the complexities of the world with wisdom and compassion.

You had been intrigued by Malleus's decision to travel to the Queendom of Roses. There were, after all, other continents that were closer to the castle, but Malleus had insisted on this destination. You did not question his decision, as your primary focus was on the growth and development of your children. A change of scenery would surely be beneficial for them, given that they had spent most of their lives in the Briar Valley.

"Mama! Mama! That cake looks so good! And that one, and that other one as well! Can't we just buy everything and all those pastries?" Your eldest child, Levan tugged enthusiastically at your hand, his eyes wide with excitement. He pointed at the various cakes and pastries on display.

Levan clearly had a soft spot for sweets, just like any child his age would. He then remembered the taste of the tarte that Lilia had once brought back and quickly added, "We should buy something for Uncle Lilia and Uncle Sebek too!"

Malleus, who was holding his youngest son in his arms, chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he watched his eldest son playfully tug at your hand. He knew that Levan had a sweet tooth just like any child his age, and he found it endearing. With a warm smile, Malleus gently intervened.

"Levan, my boy, don't tug so hard on mama's hand. Be gentle, alright?"

He then added, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement, "But I agree, my love. We should definitely get a few things for Lilia and Sebek"

If this took place years ago, he might bestow a severe punishment his chid as he clearly had taken your attention from him. Malleus initially desired nothing more than your undivided attention focused solely on him.

As time had passed, Malleus gradually learned that sharing your attention with your children was a part of the natural order of things. The possessive gaze he once harbored for you had softened, and now he found himself enjoying the sight of your tender affection towards the children that he and you had created together.

'Our little bundle of joy'

Malleus realized that he had no need for your undivided attention, for he knew wholeheartedly that you would always be his. Even if your focus was divided among your children, your love and devotion would never waver, and that knowledge brought him a profound sense of contentment. He only did discover this from multiple experiments he put on you.

"I want cake too mama, looks so delicious. Can we take some back home?" Your youngest son, Marcellus, shyly peeked at you from his father's broad shoulder, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he saw the delicious cakes and pastries on display. Unable to contain his excitement, he pleaded with you.

Your tone was gentle yet firm as you replied to your young son, "Sure, dear. We could get all the cakes if you really want, but it would be even more enjoyable if we share and keep it to a minimum, alright? We'll take one slice each and share it together. How does that sound, my love?"

You knew all too well that your husband had a history of stomach aches from indulging in an entire cake by himself, and you wanted to avoid a repetition of that unfortunate event. Malleus couldn't help but smile warmly at your response. He knew that if it were up to you, you would buy all the cakes on display, but he appreciated your consideration for his past experience.

"My dearest wife, I am well aware of your propensity to dote on our children, and I must express my profound appreciation for that. You truly are the epitome of sweetness, catering perfectly to my own discerning palate." Malleus couldn't resist commenting on your tendency to spoil your children, as his tone was one laced with gratitude and affection.

"You act like you dont do the same, Malleus. Do you think I dont know about all those toys and gargoyles decorating their rooms are from you, dear? And I know you will do the same for our baby girl too" You changed the focus to the small baby sleeping soundly in your arms. A bundle of emerald blanket was wrapped around her form. That tiny horns of her was still small and the end was not sharp like your husband as it more round as she it would grow later when she got older.

Malleus chuckled softly, his eyes glimmering with affection as he leaned closer to you. "Ah, you've caught me in the act, my dearest. I must confess that those toys and gargoyles indeed originated from me. And of course, I will certainly shower our baby girl with just as much adoration. After all, she takes after her sweet mommy" He gently caressed his baby girl's cheek and poked gently at her chubby side, his touch tender as he made sure not to wake her.

Malleus chuckled softly as he looked at your two little boys, who were eagerly exploring the bakery. "Ah, I remember those days all too well. Little Levan and Marcellus were so small and cute, and now they're wreaking havoc everywhere they go. It seems like they inherited my mischievous streak, my love."

He shook his head with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. "But I can't deny, they keep things exciting around here."

"They were just following your steps. We should be grateful at least they don't covered the castle with frost"

Malleus chuckled heartily upon hearing your comment about your sons following his footsteps. "You're right, my love. I suppose we should count our blessings that they haven't decided to frost over the entire castle. Though knowing them, it might be a matter of time..."

He responded to your question with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, so Lilia told you about the icing incident, did he? Trust him to unearth my most embarrassing moments."

"He even showed me the picture books. You used to be so cute too when you were a child too."

Malleus grumbled playfully at your words. "I see Lilia has left no stone unturned in his quest to embarrass me. Of course, he would have photographic evidence of my most cringeworthy moments as a child."

He couldn't help but soften a bit upon hearing your comment about his childhood cuteness. "Well, I suppose I was indeed rather endearing in my youthful years. But let's keep that between us, my love. I want to be perfect father to our children."

"How can a perfect man like yours exist? I'm just lucky to be your wife" Malleus listened to your words with a mixture of gratitude and a tinge of guilt. While he appreciated your praise, he was keenly aware of the dark chapters from his past. His possessive side made him killed your love one, that red head, those children. He destroyed all of the things that you love and even the pendant.

Malleus' thoughts delved into the darkest corners of his mind as he pondered his past actions. He could not shake off the memory of contemplating the murder of Marcellus, his own son as he dislike the idea of having the same sequence of child that you have with that man. 2 boys and a girl. A male heir is necessity so it would be preferable to have a girl as the second child. It was as if the fate was mocking at him and testing his patient.

The image of the baby boy, with your features, had been the only thing that halted his impulse. However, as Marcellus grew, his affection for the child began to develop. The sound of the boy's first word, "Papa", had been a turning point, making it impossible for him to harbor such sinister intentions.

Malleus became a more gentle father as he experienced the blissful moment. He became softer and more matured in taking care of everyone he loves but he still could not cure the possessiveness he had over you. He even feeling regret of his past action, not in killing Ace but in killing the that red hair children in the process too.

As the royal family finished with their shopping, people nearby could not help but express their awe and fear. The Briar Valley royalty was known far and wide for their magnifying presence, immense magical prowess, symbolized by the iconic horns on all five members of the fae family.

You caught a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of your eye, and for a brief moment, it seemed familiar. However, amidst the joyous family time you were having with your children and husband, you opted to dismiss the fleeting thought and fully immerse yourself in the present moment with your loved ones.

Malleus noticed the encounter and he could not help but smile in sense of accomplishment. He looked at his side and saw you with one hand, held your baby girl in your arms and in the middle between you two was Levan happily tug his parents hand. Marcellus in his other arms. He had acquired a happy family of his own.

At the end, you were really his...

[END]

SIDE STORY 2 <<

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Zayne)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Zayne. The reason is because you want an assured happy end for him before you could be with him. The man has no qualm in being cursed again and again the moment he stays by your side in every timeline.

-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------

Masterlist Self Aware AU

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4 [current] |  5  |

-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------&&&&&-------

"Have you seen the new banner?" You excitedly opened the conversation.

"Hope this one can spare you from fever." She smirked, "He's going to give an icy kiss to MC."

You hide your face behind your hand, slightly squeaking gleefully when you remembered the trailer.

"Chill, girl. No pun intended. I've never seen someone get sick because of a game like you. Maybe you really do need Snowy around to pull the reign."

"That was just a small misstep. Promise it won't happen again."

+--------------------------+--------------------------+

*Cough* *Cough*

"Shoot. I strained my voice too much after watching the kiss part. At least this time it was just a sore throat." She giggled.

+---------------------------+------------------------+

Scarred hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Here I was letting her have her way. Now a sore throat. Maybe I really SHOULD interfere next time."

+----------------------+-----------------------------+

"WHAT'S WITH ALL THIS ROCKING?! I mean... We sat on a rocking chair BUT..... ngeeeeEeeeeEEEE~"

You rolled around on your bed. Your friend was next to you, having a small laugh at your antics.

"Why are you shying away now? That's your man, right? Hold him tightly." She teased.

You smirked, "Right. How about your bad boy?"

Her face ceased to tease, looking awkward now.

"Who's ruffling Crow Crow feathers now? Oppsss... I meant abbs-"

She cupped your mouth, "Shu Shu Shu... You don't get to tease me on that."

+----------------------------+-----------------------+

Ears had pinkish tinged to them. One scared hand cupping his eyes. The phone was abandoned on the nearby table with a cold brew next to it.

"Why did she watch the spicy one with her friend? I can't interfere easily now."

He breathed out heavily.

"What do I do with this naughty girl?"

He sounded annoyed yet the smile playing at his lips was far from how his voice indicated it.

+----------------------------+-------------------------+

"His birthday event is coming. You're ready?"

"O to the F to the C! OF COURSE!"

They laughed.

"I had no doubt about it. Make sure to sing properly. He can TOTALLY hear you." She teased.

"Let me call you so that you can hear my lovely voice together with him."

"I'll block your number for a day. Enjoy your time with Snowy."

You pulled her cheek to her teasing.

+--------------------------+---------------------------+

"So how is it?"

"Company vacation is a blast. The cabin is nice. Just..."

"Just......."

"Errghhh... you know... how am I going to sing to Zayne like this!? What's with their timing for doing this to me?"

She laughed, "Relax. Tomorrow is the important call, right? You've already done everything including watching the memory. Don't open the game until night time. You will be safely home by then. Sing to your hearts content all you want."

You sighed, "Yeah. Good suggestion."

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

"Bad news. I miss the bus. Good news. I saw a hotel nearby."

Your friend sighed, "Why are you insisting on taking the bus when you can have a free ride home?"

You smile at your decision, "Because~ They brought back a lot of souvenirs for their family. I don't pack much. It's fine. I got a day off tomorrow thanks to that. My colleague even wanted to turn around but they were already halfway home so I insisted that it was fine."

You saw your friend massaging her forehead from the video call you made to her.

"Fine. Fine. Call me anytime. Just. Be safe, yeah."

You chuckled at your loveable worrywart friend.

"I will. Nite~"

"Nite."

+----------------------------+-----------------------+

"I hope my luck is still attached somewhere today."

You were sitting on a bench of a park near the hotel. Room fully booked.

The breeze swaying the autumn leaves. People were passing by, having a destination as they walked on.

"Maybe I'll just camp up in the bus station and take the earliest one tomorrow." Your mind set.

Somehow, you feel light today even with all that has been happening. You pulled out your phone, opening your solace game.

The video call was warm. His voice soothing you. You feel like you were experiencing his birthday memory in real life with the breeze and the leaves playing around you.

"Wish I could stay with you too, Zayne."

The call ended.

You look up, searching the moon among the clouds. You laughed simply as you closed your eyes.

"Even the moon is barely there. Guess everything is shying away from me today."

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

Eyes fluttered to your phone. Zayne was wearing his birthday attire in the cafe. It suits him well. You chuckled lowly.

"It kinda is actually."

"Can I accompany you then?"

Brows furrowed. His mouth wasn't moving. AT ALL. You stared at him accusingly.

Someone's clearing his throat in front of you.

You jumped as you glanced up in a heartbeat.

Your whole body went rigid now. Questioning everything you see right at this moment.

Zayne.

Wearing a black turtleneck with a grey coat on top of it. You noticed a blush barely tinged his nose and ears. His face was gentle.

"Are you cold?" That's the first thing you said to this uncanny situation.

He hid his laugh with the back of his hand. Shaking his head afterwards.

You decided that you like those antics very much.

He kneeled down and held your hands in his.

"The cold never bothered me quite like a certain someone's recklessness."

His hazel eyes glistenening brightly at you.

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| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 [current] | 5 |

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Dating Natalie Scatorccio

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Natalie Scatorccio is a complicated girl. She puts up this tough, hardened, sarcastic exterior for others, especially those who look down on her for living in a trailer park, her sense of style, or her drinking and occasional drug usage. Natalie's used to the insults, the jabs, being constantly undermined or ignored. Despite what she's been through and how others perceive her, Natalie has a kind heart and a strong set of ethics that come out when someone needs protecting. As such, Natalie needs someone who looks past her hard exterior (and the rumors surrounding her) and embraces everything she is.

Natalie isn't much of a relationship kind of girl. Sure, she'd like one, just as anyone else would, but she knows most people at school apart from a select few only see her as trailer trash. She lets her eyes wander often and sometimes lets her mind do too, but there's always some insecurity or negative thought ready to bring her down. 

Until she meets you and she gets that fluttery, mouth-drying, heart-racing feeling in her stomach for the first time in a while.

Natalie has a love-hate relationship with crushes. They can be distracting, and depending on the person, heart-achingly annoying. But with you it's different. Her worries vanish when she meets your gaze and she smiles despite herself, even if it means enduring teasing from the other Yellowjackets. 

Natalie pretends to be confident when you first begin dating. She tries being the cool, chill, no-problem girlfriend most would expect her to be. Except she's not. She worries a lot, whether about you, how you feel about her, or how the relationship is, Natalie worries to hell and back. She half-expects you to change your mind about everything, to take back everything you've said and believe the rumors about her sleeping around or being this or that. 

Her anxieties ease with time and reassurance, although she despises feeling like a burden when she admits her worries to you. Some parts even feel guilty and not good enough when you kiss her and tell her everything's alright. Her father's nasty words echo in the back of her mind but just one warm, gentle touch from you silences him and she relaxes, turning putty in your hands. 

Natalie's an attentive girlfriend. She's an observer of sorts and she keeps all your interests in mind, locking away in her brain to remember for later. After practice, she enjoys going to your favorite place to eat and chat about school, the Yellowjackets, and anything else that comes to mind.

Natalie opens up gradually, letting you see a softer more vulnerable side that not many get the opportunity to see. She dances around the subject of bringing you home with her since the last time she brought someone over, it ended in her father's accidental death. But she embraces the fear and the memories hand-in-hand with you and takes you home, even if it's just briefly. Natalie finds it difficult to speak of her father, of her childhood, but she trusts you enough to do so and appreciates your soothing words and loving gestures.

Natalie is big on physical touch and quality time. She loves touching you, although most of the time she prefers it in private and out of sight. However, even in public, she'll try to find a way, whether it's through hand holding, being close enough to brush shoulders, fixing an article of clothing for you, resting her head on your shoulder. Sometimes you'll even be granted a kiss on the cheek. Behind closed doors, Natalie's all over you. As much as she enjoys talking, she likes making out a whole lot more and you'll often find her on your lap or curled up at your side.

Natalie likes cupping your face when she kisses you, one could say it's a habit of hers. You already know what she wants when she places her hands on your cheeks and gives you one of those cheeky smiles. 

Being with Natalie means going to the WHS Yellowjacket games. It means a lot to her when she finds you seated in the stands cheering them on, cheering her on. She always gives it her all during games, lest she wants a lecture from Taissa or Coach Martinez, but she tries even harder when she knows you're there watching her. Each time the game ends with them as victors, she'll rush over to you and envelope you in a hug, thanking you for being there and giving promises of spending time alone together. 

The Yellowjackets are a family as well as a team. No matter how many times they fight or argue or have their disagreements or literally break each other's legs, they're family and love each other. Despite that, Natalie takes her time introducing you to the team. Most of them already know from simply watching or overhearing gossip, and while Mari or Jackie may ask once or twice, they try to respect the distance. When Natalie finally officially introduces you as her partner, many girls jump at the chance to ask you questions, ranging from sweet ones to rude or offensive ones that have Natalie scowling and dragging you in the opposite direction. Regardless, the girls begin inviting you to things or greeting you in the halls and generally treating you as one of their own. You put Natalie in a better mood and the girls appreciate it. 

Despite the rumors of Natalie sleeping around, she's only ever slept with two guys, something she admits to you with worry that you soothe away without even meaning to. Once past the rumor mill, Natalie often initiates sex, sometimes in the most random of private places. Sometimes in a car, on school grounds, at your place, or the bathroom of some random party. She's a hormonal teenage girl who's head over heels. Who could blame her? Though, expect her to be putty in your hands if you make the first move. She'll get all giggly and blush red like a tomato.

All in all, Natalie makes for a good girlfriend, despite her troubles and tragic childhood. She tries her best and she'll always consider you one of her first priorities in life, even if it means putting you before herself. You're the first one she runs to with news, the first person she thinks of when she wakes up in the morning, the first person she seeks out in school. She'll protect you with her life if needed and will defend you against anyone.

But everything changes when Flight 2525 crashes in the wilderness.

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Never getting over you- Part 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Carmy seeing you that one night, brought back mountains of memories. Memories he's been trying to bury for a year. With him not being able to get you off his mind. He could only do one thing.

Warnings: Erotic memories, fluff, saliva, cursing

A/N Did not expect that big of response! Thank you guys :) I've been gone for a little bit but with the trailer coming out and the new season this month, I got inspired again.

Part 1

Enjoy!

He couldn't get you off his mind. So many questions raced through his head.

"Cousin!" Richie snapped, bringing Carmy back to reality.

Carmy looked cluelessly at him not remembering what Richie was nagging him for.

"What?!"

"Jesus Christ, am I talkin' to a wall?" Richie exclaimed glancing over at Sydney.

"The people at table 7... The- the fuckin' shellfish allergy. They're paranoid, they want rea-"

"Reassurance, yeah-yeah... I'm a little busy 'ere, can't you do your job?" Carmy went from station to station looking over everything that was firing

" Yo- you don't think I've tried?" Richie followed raising his arms.

"Fine! fine, I'll go..." Carmy yelled

Another night past of pernickety customers. Carmy was finally glad to close and lock his door and take a deep breath in his apartment.

He leaned against it for a few moments, finally taking in the silence of his surroundings and to be left with his thoughts on what the fuck actually happened tonight.

He kicked off his shoes and as if he was on autopilot, made his way to the bathroom, starting up the shower.

His mind never lifting from seeing you across the street. He couldn't believe it at first. With the lack of sleep he has been dealing with lately, he honestly thought he was losing his mind for a second.

Was something wrong?

Were you in trouble some way?

The way things ended between both you and the nasty words that hung in the air ever since. He really did think he wouldn't see you again.

His mind flashed back to seeing your cheeks red and raw with tears staining them. It was hours of fighting, he didn't know what time it was, but with the sound of the birds outside, most likely early morning.

"If you want to go..." Your words broke off, wiping your nose with a disintegrating tissue.

"Just fuckin' go" Your voice turned sour.

He stood leaning against the back of the couch. The only piece of furniture between the both of you.

He knew that if he left your apartment, he wasn't going to come back. He couldn't deal with this right now. The Bear was at a point of maybe not happening.

But you didn't know that. He didn't tell you that because he knew you would blame yourself. He could barely hold himself together.

With his head hanging low, he took one deep breath before bringing his eyes to yours. He took in your beautiful sorrowful eyes one more time.

"Fine... I'll go" He uttered weakly.

As he grabbed his keys and phone off the kitchen counter, a streak of panic ran through your veins.

Was this it?

Was this the final straw?

The last fight?

"Wait-" You spoke up

But he didn't wait, he continued to put on his shoes.

"Carmy plea-" You rushed over to him, grasping his shoulder and pulling him back.

He shrugged your hand off.

"Carmy, baby.. I don't want- please" Tears started rolling down your face as you came to the realization.

He glanced at you one more time as he made his way out the door, and closed it behind him.

You stood there, utterly lost and exhausted. The sinking feeling in your stomach only getting deeper and deeper.

Carmy did what he needed to do and poured himself into his work. He didn't give himself one minute of free time to let his mind drift onto you. He didn't want to feel the pain in his chest. He just needed to keep himself focused and busy until the pain was buried deep enough that he didn't have to deal with it.

But the sight of you tonight made him vulnerable. The dump truck of emotions that he felt shook him completely.

Days went by, and time went slow. Even in the hectic kitchen, service seemed to be a struggle for Carmy. Simple things that he was usually on top of were slipping through his fingers. He couldn't fuck up, after all the shit he has gone through to get The Bear up and running.

Before he knew it, he was outside your door. He thought that maybe he would have backed out on the way there....

Or outside the building...

Or maybe up the stairs...

But here he was, on 1am on a Tuesday.

"Fuck it" He mumbled, biting down on his lip in annoyance and pausing a moment before knocking on your door.

With an unexpected knock, you snapped your head to the door. You looked at your phone to see it was past midnight.

Curiosity got the best of you, made your way to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your eyes widened to see Carmy on the other side. Your stomach dropped and your mind went blank.

A moment went by and without thinking, you opened the door.

Your eyes landed on his tired ones.

"Carmy.." A word you haven't spoke out loud in months. Your were taken completely off guard and your voice showed that with it's softness.

"I-i" He stuttered looking down, his hand stuffed his wool jacket.

"I thought I would che- fuck.."

You could sense the nervousness off of him, with his tumbling of words.

He looked through his eyelids, with his head hanging low.

"Do you want to come in?" You moved aside giving him room to make his way.

Without another word spoken, he walked past you and the oh so familiar smell of cigarettes, gum and just Carmy filled the air around you.

As much you wanted to convince yourself that it didn't.... It made you crumble inside.

You closed and locked the door, turning around to find his eyes on you.

You looked down and realized that you still were wearing one of his white shirts as pjs. Your stare was back on him, a small playful smile was on his face. A smile he was trying to hide.

The last time he saw you in that shirt, you were bent over on his mattress with it riding up your back with every thrust. The memory made his jeans tighter. He noticed how your hard nipples would peek through, making it incredibly difficult to drag his eyes away from them.

He knew you noticed because you crossed your arms immediately and sucked in your lips trying to hide the blush that was appearing on your cheeks.

A million thoughts were running through Carmy's mind. But to find you in his shirt, short circuited something in his brain. He couldn't get past seeing your face contorted in pleasure or the little whimpers that escaped your mouth.

With your eyes back on the ground, you watched as he slowly walked closer to you until you could feel his body radiate heat onto your arms.

Your eyes followed his fingers as they gently brushed up your arms and over your shoulder. They slowly made their way to the bottom of your chin, bringing your face up to his. Where his eyes were already on yours.

"Carm-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips.

His blue, soft eyes slowly got tainted by something darker.

You shook your head subtly feeling his callous fingertips brush your lips.

Nothing could have stopped you from giving in to him. The very drug that you've been withdrawn from for a year. All you wanted to do right now was overdose.

Without any hesitation from either of you, your lips crashed together.

You felt his hungry with the kiss immediately becoming desperate. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around your neck. The sensation you missed so much. With both of your mouths wanting to taste as much as possible, the kiss turned wetter. You could taste the stale nicotine on his tongue. You felt him lean into you more and more until you caught yourself up against the door.

You felt him pull away for a brief moment, only to be able to catch your breath. His hand still on your throat. His blown out pupils searching yours. His fingers still wrapped around your neck, he brought his thumb up to your lips.

You knew exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, you opened up obediently, letting his thumb brush up against your eager tongue. He clenched his jaw feeling you gently starting to suck his thumb. It only reminded him of how much he loved your mouth.

Your innocent eyes. swollen lips and wet saliva bringing him to the edge of falling apart.

"Fuck- I've missed you"

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 18

summary: When the group heads out on their search for Sophia and Daryl doesn't return at first, you know something is wrong. In a flashback, you run into Merle after months of no contact, stirring up memories of your past with the Dixon brothers.

warnings: daryl gets hurt, little bit of gore, emoshie, if you have mommy issues like me some mentions of y/n’s mom are a bummer

notes: two chapters in one night!!! I couldn't help it I'm so emotional!!

x flashback x

Your first school year had dragged by, maybe because of your intense yearning to be home. As messy as your childhood had been—from your drunk mother who barely noticed you, to the cramped, damp trailer you shared with her—there was still one thing that had made it all bearable. Well, one person, and the need you felt to get back to him had been debilitating.

After your confrontation with Daryl in the fall semester, you hadn’t tried calling him. He had dropped out of your orbit completely, leaving you feeling emptier and more alone than you’d expected. Shane had come and gone, but your relationship with him had been rocky—he’d known you couldn’t shake the sadness of losing your best friend. Every once in a while, you’d managed to have a good night with Shane, but the second you were back in your dorm, the loneliness had hit again, especially when your roommate, Dana, had been out.

You’d kept busy, though. A part-time job at a local, family-owned coffee shop in downtown Atlanta had filled most of your days, and the bus ride back and forth had been a welcome distraction. Some days you’d volunteered at the women’s shelter, other times at the dog kennels. You hadn’t been afraid to get your hands dirty. Physical labor had kept your mind off the ache inside. But sometimes, seeing the bond between mothers and children, even in the most dire straits, had made your heart pang with longing for what could’ve been—what should’ve been—your life. A life where your mother had cared enough to even notice you.

The dogs, though, had brought a different kind of joy. You’d often taken them for runs, letting them burn off their pent-up energy—and your own. But no amount of running could have stopped your thoughts from circling back to Daryl. He would’ve loved it. You could almost see him grinning at the sight of those dogs, playful and free. His dad never would’ve allowed a pet, though. Daryl wouldn’t have wanted to leave any animal alone in that house with his monster of a father anyway.

Sometimes, your hand would twitch toward your phone, ready to call him, ask him to walk with you like before. But then you’d remember—you couldn’t just pick up and call him anymore. He wasn’t yours to reach out to.

One afternoon, as you’d been walking to the bus stop after a long shift at the shelter, a familiar figure had caught your eye. Your steps had faltered.

It had been Merle, leaning against the bus stop post, a cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. You hadn’t seen either of the Dixon brothers in months. Panic had fluttered in your chest, and you’d briefly considered turning around, finding another stop, maybe even wasting money on a cab.

But it had been too late. Merle’s sharp blue eyes locked onto yours.

“Well, hey now!” Merle called to you, pulling his cigarette from his mouth, his voice carrying that rough, sarcastic edge you’d remembered so well. You had frozen, your heart thudding in your chest. It had been so long since you’d seen either of the Dixon brothers, and you hadn’t been sure you were ready for this.

Merle approached, his pale face even thinner than you’d remembered, but his eyes were still sharp. “Look who’s all fancy now,” he drawled, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Miss Big City College Girl. Thought you’d done gone and forgot ‘bout us nobodies.” His smile was crooked, teasing, but there was something behind it—something worn down.

You swallowed, trying to think of what to say, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you just stared at him, taking in how different he looked.

Merle raised an eyebrow, taking another drag from his cigarette. “What, cat got your tongue? You ain’t too good to talk to ol’ Merle now, are ya?” He chuckled, but his eyes never left yours, gauging your reaction.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Merle smirked, stepping closer. “So what’s the matter? You runnin’ from somethin’ or just runnin’ late for your fancy bus ride back to the dorm?” He gestured loosely with his cigarette, clearly amused by the discomfort he was causing.

You glanced down the street, half-hoping the bus would miraculously show up, but it hadn’t. “I was just—on my way home.”

“Home,” Merle repeated, tilting his head, his grin widening. “Ain’t that somethin’. You got yourself a nice cozy place now, huh? Doin’ all good for yourself?” His tone was still mocking, but there had been something beneath it, something almost bitter.

“I’m just... trying to get through school,” you said quietly, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

Merle chuckled, shaking his head. “Tryin’ to get through, huh? Yeah, that’s what we’re all doin’, sweetheart. Only some of us don’t got no fancy degrees waitin’ for us at the end.”

He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a sigh. “You talk to Daryl?” His voice had suddenly been more serious, the mockery slipping for just a moment.

You hesitated, the pang of loss hitting you again. “No... not in a while.”

Merle’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read—disappointment, maybe, or concern hidden behind his usual bravado. He scoffed lightly, “Figures. Kid’s been mopin’ around like a damn lost dog since you left. Don’t take it personal, though. He’s just stubborn as hell.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down.

Merle flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “Well, you know where to find us, darlin’. Don’t be a stranger.” He’d flashed you one last teasing grin, but there had been a softness in his eyes before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite sort through.

X flash forward x

You’re out by the vehicles with Carol, hanging laundry on the line, keeping busy in the cool morning light. You’d had such a deep sleep overnight after Daryl returned safely, but at first light, you were up, eager to occupy yourself. Surprisingly, Carol had been outside too, fussing with the linens, and you decided to join her.

After an hour or so, Lori makes her way out of the tent she set up for her family. You pause at the sight of her, instinctively averting your eyes as you pin another shirt to the line.

“Can’t believe I slept in that long,” Lori mutters to Carol, wiping her brow.

“You must’ve needed it,” Carol replies, holding your pins as you straighten the shirt. Lori pats Carol’s shoulder, but then her eyes land on you. There’s a long pause, and you catch her gaze for a moment too long before quickly looking away. She doesn’t say anything, and you turn your focus back to the laundry, accepting a pair of jeans from Carol.

As Carol and Lori start chatting about cooking a meal for the Greene family that evening, you stay quiet. “You in, Y/N?” Carol asks.

You barely hear her, distracted by the sound of the guys coming up behind you, calling out good mornings as they approach the blue truck. Shane lays down a large map across the hood, and once you finish clipping the jeans, you walk over to join them. Daryl is nearby, slipping into a red plaid shirt as he approaches the group.

As you move up beside him, you feel his eyes on you for a split second before he looks away. You don’t say anything, listening as Rick starts assigning new grids to search. One of Hershel’s boys is there too, volunteering to join in. You glance at Daryl, trying to gauge his reaction.

Shane, ever impatient, grumbles from the passenger side of the truck. Daryl ignores him, pointing to the map. “I’m gonna borrow a horse, head up this ridge here,” he says, his finger tracing a creek near the northern mountain with steep elevation.

You lean in, lowering your voice. “You sure that’s a good idea? Do you even know how to ride?”

Daryl’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look at you. “If she’s up there, I’ll spot her,” he says simply.

T-Dog chuckles. “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there too,” he teases, grinning.

Despite Daryl’s brush-off, you manage a small smile, remembering that story.

“Chupacabra?” Rick asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dale laughs as he approaches from the other side of the truck. “First night at camp, Daryl was tellin’ us about the time he went squirrel huntin’ and swore he saw one.”

Rick smirks, and even the new kid lets out a chuckle. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh. You’ve heard the story before—the blood-sucking dog Daryl claimed to have seen during one of his long trips in the woods.

Daryl glares at the new kid. “Whatchu brayin’ at, jackass?”

You bite your lip, barely holding back another laugh.

Rick, still amused, shakes his head. “You really believe in a blood-sucking dog?”

Daryl doesn’t miss a beat. “You believe dead people are walkin’ around?”

Rick nods, conceding the point, as the conversation returns to the trails and search plans.

“I’ll go with this guy,” you say, nodding toward Hershel’s boy. “We can cover more ground if Daryl and I split up. Both bein’ trackers and all,”

Rick gives you a concerned look. “You sure you’re fit to be out there?”

You square your shoulders, giving him a firm nod. “I’ll be fine.”

The boy heads off to grab a gun, and you call after him, “You ever shot one before?”

He grabs it with a cocky grin. “Well, if I’m goin’ out there, I want one.”

You stifle a laugh at his confidence. He’s pale, tall, and lanky—clearly not someone used to being out in the sun. You wonder how he’s managed to stay so sheltered, living on a farm and all.

Daryl, rolling his eyes at the boy’s bravado, mutters, “Yeah, and people in hell want Slurpees.”

This time, you can’t hold back the laugh, the sound escaping you before you can stop it.

As you start walking past Shane, who’s been watching the whole exchange, he throws one last jab your way. “He’s yours to babysit then. Like a toddler watchin’ a baby.”

Without missing a beat, you raise your middle finger over your shoulder, and keep walking.

—

It’s just about evening when you and Jimmy return, the sinking sun casting long shadows across the farm. You’d found out that Jimmy wasn’t even Hershel’s kid, but Beth’s boyfriend. Strangely, you hadn’t even seen the girl yet—her name floated around every once in a while, but she seemed to be staying holed up in the house. You couldn’t blame her, really. In this new world, hiding away seemed like the safest thing to do.

As you and Jimmy approach the tree line, the rhythmic drum of hoofbeats draws your attention. You turn toward the sound, scanning the horizon. A chestnut horse gallops toward the farm, its reins flapping wildly, stirrups bouncing against its sides.

Your stomach plummets. Daryl had taken a horse earlier.

But the horse running toward the farm is riderless.

Jimmy runs out to try to slow her down, and your heart is pumping in your ears now. He’s lost, he’s hurt, he’s stuck somewhere, or –no, you’re not letting your mind think the worst things yet. But where the fuck is he? 

The sky turns pink as the sun lowers, and a yell whips through the air. Andrea’s voice.

You run toward the RV, your heart pounding in your ears, ignoring the ache in your side. As you approach, you hear the clatter of a rifle being loaded.

“Andrea—” you say quietly, climbing up the RV to see her aiming the rifle. Her eyes are locked on something moving in the distance.

“Maybe we should—” You’re cut off by Rick and Shane arguing nearby, saying they’ll handle it without shooting. They start sprinting toward the figure, and you breathe a sigh of relief–just a lone walker. They’ll take care of it with a knife.

But then Andrea drops to her stomach, her finger twitching on the trigger.

“Andrea, I think they’ve got it covered.”

“Back off, Y/N,” she snaps, her tone sharp and dismissive. You pull back, stunned by her attitude, but remain quiet. Your eyes drift toward the walker shambling out of the woods, still too far to identify. It moves sluggishly, holding something behind it. Mud and blood coat its body.

The others slow as they approach, Rick raising his gun. Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog are lowering their weapons. You can barely hear their voices, and the walker lifts its head. 

Daryl. 

“Andrea, no!” you shout, but she’s pulled the trigger, rifle cracking through the air. 

A scream rips from your mouth as you watch in horror as he’s thrown backward by impact. You don’t remember your feet hitting the ground, but your heart is in your ears as you run as fast as you ever have in your life. You’re flying through the tall brush, Rick screaming back at Andrea, but you can’t hear him. You just see the anguish on his face. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die–but what about those who are the most important to you? Memories flash in your mind now, Daryl laughing about something stupid as a kid, punching kids in the face when they messed with you, sitting by the lake, looking into his eyes…

Shane and Rick are already hoisting Daryl up as you reach them, your heart pounding so hard you feel dizzy.

“Daryl?! DARYL ?” Your voice is ragged as Shane and Rick approach with Daryl’s limp body between them. Panic twists inside you as your hands grab his muddy, blood-soaked face. His eyes are closed.

“Unconscious,” Rick says sternly, irritation dripping from his words, “she just grazed him,”

“Look at him,” Glenn’s voice cracks, “look–he’s wearing ears ,” he’s pointing wide eyed at the cord around Daryl’s neck, where you see three shriveled, blue tinged walker ears hanging.

“Jesus, Daryl,” you say, disbelief and horror in your voice. You begin walking beside Shane, watching Daryl closely. As they drag him back through the pasture, Rick plucks the cord from Daryl’s neck, shaking his head and hiding them in his shirt, “Let’s keep this to ourselves.”

T-Dog’s voice calls out from behind. “Guys—isn’t this Sophia’s?” He holds up a raggedy doll, the one you remember seeing Sophia clutch for dear life. Your heart skips a beat, staring at the fabric doll with red braided hair and green eyes.

You sit beside Daryl’s bed as Hershel finishes cleaning the wound on his side. The farmhouse feels too quiet as Daryl describes where he found the doll to Rick.

“Washed up on the shore. She must’ve dropped it crossin’ there,” Daryl says, his voice scratchy and hoarse as he presses a cloth to his head.

Talk of the search grid fades into the background as you watch Daryl. They bring up the horse you saw run wild across the field, and Hershel’s soft voice echoes in the room. “That one’s Nelly—nervous Nelly. Would’ve told you she’d throw you if you’d bothered to ask.”

You shake your head, dropping your face into your hands. Elbows resting on your knees, the weight of everything crashes over you. Hershel, Rick, and Shane slip out of the room quietly, though Shane makes sure to meet your eye before closing the door behind him.

The silence thickens.

You finally look over at Daryl. His back is to you, still covered in mud and grime, but his wound is a glaring contrast—so clean, a strange beacon against the mud and grime of him. You study the familiar tattoos and the old scars, remembering every one. It feels strange, loving someone so deeply, yet feeling like they’re a million miles away. 

There’s a soft murmur of voices outside, but you ignore it while gathering the courage to sit beside him. You settle at the crux of his knee, where it’s bent on the bed. Your weight causes the mattress to sag. The irony of the traded positions isn’t lost on you.

“Tryna’ get even with me?” you ask softly, trying to ease the tension with a little humor.

Daryl remains quiet, chewing his lip, his eyes fixed on the wall. Something’s bothering him—something deeper than the physical pain. Gently, you rest your hand on his hip, offering comfort.

He finally turns, his eyes locking with yours. His lips twitch slightly, but there’s too much swirling in his gaze to form words.

Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, the door creaks open. Carol pokes her head in, a sad smile on her face. “You comin’ to dinner?”

You glance between her and Daryl. “‘M not hungry,” you say quietly, and you add a “thank you,” as she nods and closes the door, leaving the two of you alone again.

The silence stretches on for a beat too long, both of you staring at each other. You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing it, waiting for him to speak.

“Shane threatened me,” he finally mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

Your stomach flips on itself, “What?” the word is barely a sound, the breath feeling like it's been knocked out of you.

Daryl begins to sit up gingerly, pushing himself up against the headboard and wall of the bed to fully face you, “Back, before all this shit…” he begins, looking around the room. Eventually his eyes meet yours, “when you were with him. He came to me before ya went to school,”

Your brain is trying hard to keep up, but inside you feel like your insides are on fire at this admission.

“He came to me and told me if I didn’t stay away from ya, he’d make sure Merle or I’d get in trouble. That he’d lock up Merle ,” his voice is so quiet now, you’re leaning in inch by inch to fully understand, “Said he’d be able to make it look legit, ya know? Plant somethin–drugs, weapons. Didn’t matter–said all he needed was an excuse, that it would be easy, and Merle was good as done. You remember how Merle was back then, Y/N,”

The fire inside is rushing up into anger, disbelief washing over you, but Daryl isn’t giving you time to respond. His words tumble out now, faster, like a dam breaking. Like he’s been working up to this moment the whole time, “I didn’t know what to do. Hell, I didn’t even tell Merle. Just figured it was better to keep my distance, y’know?” After a long pause he adds, “Figured you were better off without me around, anyway,” his eyes glance away at that, his hands coming up to rest his face in. He slouches over, and your hand hovers his shoulder–unsure if you should touch. You’re so close to him now.

After a deep sigh, he looks up at you again, hands falling, “I was such an asshole, Y/N. I’m sorry. I hated it everyday. Couldn’t stand to look at ya, think of ya… it was too much,”

Your throat tightens, your mind racing as you try to process his words. “Daryl, you… you should’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t,” he says, his voice sharp, pained. “What was I supposed to say? That I was too damn scared to stand up to him? That I let him push me away from the only person that ever mattered?” His fists clench in his lap, frustration and guilt boiling over. Your heart is doing somersaults in your chest, “I was just tryna protect my brother… and you.”

You’re silent for a long moment, the weight of his confession settling in. You hadn’t known. All this time, you’d thought Daryl had pushed you away because he didn’t care—because he didn’t want you around. But now, hearing the truth, it’s like a punch to the gut. Shane had been manipulating everything.

“Daryl,” you breathe, letting your hand finally rest on his arm. He flinches at first, like he doesn’t deserve your touch, but then he brings his hand up to yours, and his fingers close around yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice cracking just enough for you to hear the depth of his regret.

You shake your head, trying to keep the anger at bay—anger at Shane, at everything he did to control you both. But more than anything, you feel the sharp ache of how much Daryl had kept inside, all this time.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whisper, your voice cracking now, “I never would’ve chosen him over you.”

His head dips, a shadow of a sad smile flickering on his lips, “Didn’t feel like either of us had much of a choice.”

You sit quietly beside him, letting the truth of it all sink in. There’s a long silence between you, but this time, it’s different. It feels like a space that’s been opened up—something that needed to be said finally coming to light.

[wazzuppy]

SPOILERS FOR THE NEW WALPURGISNACHT RISING TRAILER!!!!

And now for some other random things I noticed. Sequel-ish to my previous post.

Homura now has slight curls in her hair. It might also be more purple than before? Though that could just be because of the lighting.

Madoka looks really surprised and confused, but Homura looks all soft and somberly warm. Did she just randomly start dancing with her out of nowhere? 😭 Homura's such a gay little mess, I love her.

Was Homura fighting something here? The way she falls feels less like a dramatic one that she did of her own volition (like at the end of Rebellion) and more like she's in actual danger. Plus, she's in her devil form and the scenery doesn't look normal. I would say it's a witches labyrinth, but no labyrinth we've seen has ever looked like this— this one looks almost heavenly by comparison. Maybe there's some kind of new threat, or perhaps Wraiths are going to come back and get a proper labyrinth of their own. She might even be fighting another magical girl, and they're just in a barrier of some kind high above the city.

This teacup. I feel like this teacup is so important, but I have no idea what it could mean. However I do know what those golden cracks are. That's an example of Kintsugi, where broken things are repaired by mending the cracks with gold. It treats being broken and fixed as part of the object's history, rather than something to be hidden.

Also, this girl's eyes are golden and her hair is green like the tea inside the cup. The spoon and other parts of the tea-set are golden as well.

Nagisa has a new friend!! I thought maybe this orange haired girl might have been the unnamed magical girl from the first trailer (the one who fought with a bow), but that girl only had a single ponytail as opposed to pigtails.

Although... This girl kind of looks like what would happen if Nagisa and orange hair fused together.

And this other (same?) girl with orange pigtails is seen with Kyubey. Her outfit looks a lot like Kyoko's original outfit, too. Hmmm... I wonder if this is Kyoko's little sister? And she's been brought back because of Homura having rewrote the world? Kyoko does go to school with the rest of the girls now. She could have altered more about her life than just that.

Actually, this witch/familiar from earlier in the trailer has orange hair too. Does this mean something or is it just a coincidence???

Anyways, speaking of Kyoko, we get to see a bit more of her new outfit in this shot here. She now has puffed sleeves similar to Madoka's, and her dress in general looks much frillier. It feels a lot more girlish and cute, as opposed to coolness of her original design. Maybe it's a reflection of how Kyoko is happier in this new world?

Is Sayaka in her original outfit here? And just where the hell is she? Wasn't there a location like this in Rebellion, or am I just misremembering?

We see a flash of Oktavia in this shot, but Sayaka seems surprised and confused by it. Maybe she's had her memories erased since the end of Rebellion and doesn't remember Oktavia at all. Although, her shock may just be because it was so sudden.

Also, Sayaka's new outfit has more gold detailing than her original one!

So, the presence of the lizard makes me think that this is Homura. It looks like she may be attempting to cut it out of her, only for her blood to solidify and straight up break the knife (? possibly a boxcutter?). She may be trying to rid herself of her power in some way, or if this is a different girl entirely (the tea makes me think it could be Mami or the green haired girl from before), they're trying to get rid of Homura's influence.

This shot is interesting. It shows a white feather turning black as it falls from a heavenly-looking sky. This is probably a reference to not only fallen angels, but the status of Madoka's godhood. It's initially high in the sky with her, but is pulled down to Earth and turned dark as Homura takes it for herself.

[theonlyonesora]

The Way He Looked at me - Part 2

Cillian Murphy x Reader

The studio lot was quieter after dark, long after most of the crew had wrapped for the day. The dressing trailers stood in a row like sleeping train cars, lights off, doors closed. Except for one.

His.

You hadn’t planned on walking past it. Not really. You were heading to your own trailer to change, maybe grab your bag and escape the heavy thoughts pressing against your ribs. But then you saw the warm glow spilling out through the cracked door, and the sound of a low, familiar voice murmuring over music. Something jazz-like, slow and dreamy.

Your hand knocked before you could think.

“Yeah?” came Cillian’s voice from inside.

You hesitated—but only for a second. Then pushed the door open.

He was sitting on the small couch, script in hand, glasses on, a soft gray sweater hugging his frame like something stolen from a winter postcard. He looked up, and his face relaxed into something unreadable—but open.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said quickly. “Just… I was walking by.”

He nodded once, setting the pages aside. “Come in. It’s late. You shouldn’t be wandering alone.”

There was humor in his voice, but a note of something else too. You stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You stood in the quiet for a moment. The air between you thick with everything left unsaid after that rehearsal—the way he looked at you, the way your body leaned toward his like it already knew.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You alright?”

You nodded, then shook your head. “No. Not really.”

He didn’t ask why.

“I didn’t imagine it, did I?” you asked, voice quieter now. “What happened earlier?”

He didn’t move.

“No,” he said, low and honest. “You didn’t.”

Your heart stuttered. “So what now?”

He stood.

Crossed the space slowly, carefully, until he was right in front of you. He brought one hand up—not touching, just hovering, like he was still giving you time to change your mind.

But you didn’t.

You leaned in first.

His lips met yours softly at first—like a question. One you answered with your whole body.

The kiss deepened quickly, hot and full of want, the quiet in the trailer replaced with the sound of breathing, the soft rustle of clothing, the press of mouths that had waited too long.

His hands found your waist, yours slid into his hair. He kissed like he acted—focused, intentional, hungry in the quietest way. Like every second meant something.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breath warm, eyes still closed.

“I told myself I wouldn’t cross this line,” he murmured.

You whispered back, “Then stop.”

He opened his eyes.

“I can’t.”

And just like that, he kissed you again—deeper this time, his hands anchoring you as if he’d waited weeks for this. As if your mouth was the first real thing in a long time.

The door stayed closed. The lights stayed low.

And in that small trailer, with your bodies pressed close and hearts racing, nothing else existed but the way he kissed you like he already knew how you tasted in dreams.

.

The trailer was still when you opened your eyes, the early sun slipping through the blinds in thin, golden stripes. For a moment, you didn’t move—didn’t breathe. Your mind tried to catch up with your body, piecing together the memories from the night before.

His hands.

His mouth.

The way he said “I can’t.”

You turned your head.

Cillian was still asleep beside you, half-sitting against the armrest of the couch, one hand tucked beneath his chin, the other resting loosely on your waist like even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go. The sweater he’d worn was gone, draped over you like a blanket. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and there was a faint crease between his brows, even in rest.

God, he was beautiful.

You exhaled quietly, not wanting to wake him. But his eyes opened anyway—those impossible blue eyes—and for a second, neither of you said anything.

Then: “Morning.”

His voice was rough with sleep, deeper, warmer. It hit you low in your stomach.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Still quiet.

Still close.

You sat up slightly, the sweater slipping from your shoulders. He noticed, gently brushing your hair back, fingers grazing your neck in that familiar way that made your skin hum.

“Did I…” You hesitated. “Should I regret this?”

His gaze softened, but his expression was unreadable. Classic Cillian. The silence stretched just long enough to make you nervous.

Then he said, “Not unless you do.”

“I don’t.”

The words came out faster than you meant them to, but you didn’t take them back.

He smiled faintly, thumb brushing the inside of your wrist.

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he said quietly. “Mixed work and… this.”

You nodded. “Me neither. Or—well, I haven’t had much of either.”

His brow lifted slightly, amused. “You’ve definitely had this. You kissed me like you’ve broken hearts before.”

You laughed under your breath, suddenly shy. “And you kissed me like you knew exactly what I needed.”

Another pause.

This one didn’t feel heavy. Just fragile.

He looked down at your hand resting over his chest. Then back up at you.

“Do you want to pretend it didn’t happen?” he asked. He wasn’t teasing now. Just honest.

You met his gaze, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “No. I want to see what happens if we don’t.”

That got a real smile. Quiet. Genuine.

He leaned forward again, pressing a softer, slower kiss to your lips—one that didn’t burn like last night, but settled deep into your bones like something that might stay.

Outside, the lot was waking up—footsteps, voices, the clatter of gear—but in the trailer, it was still just the two of you. Wrapped in yesterday’s clothes, in a sweater that smelled like him, and in the feeling that something had shifted for good.

And when he whispered, “You’ll come back tonight, won’t you?”, you didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I will.”

[haru-natsuka]

The Unending Daze Part 5 [END] (Malleus Draconia x Wife Reader x Ace Trappola)

Chapter start after trailer*

>> Trailer <<

"My darling wife, the joy you have brought me throughout the years is without compare. Our children are fortunate to have been gifted with such a loving and caring mother as you,"

Malleus spoke with affection, his voice like honeyed words that melted the hearts of everyone that heard it. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

But just as you were getting used to this blissful scene, your old friend, Ace arrived in an unexpected turn of events. He claimed that he was your husband, which left you perplexed and bewildered.

"Wait a minute, that's not right! I'm your real husband! He's just trying to manipulate you with a dream. Wake up, now! Our children need you! I need you, Y/N!"

You were unsure how to proceed, caught in the middle of a confusing situation. In this situation, you feel conflicted and uncertain about whether your old friend or your darling husband had spoken the truth

>> PART 5 <<

"Ace," Even as you attempted to speak firmly, a deep yearning and sorrow filled your voice. "Your presence is not needed here," you dejectedly said, your eyes fixed on the ground. No, you had never meant to say that, you really wanted him to take you away from here but you knew, deep down, that this was for the best.

"What did you say?" Ace asked frantically, gripping your shoulder tightly as if trying to bring you back to your senses. "He tormented you again in this dream, right?" He demanded, but you remained silent. Ace frowned as he understood your response.

"I will bring you back. Every single time, every single dream you trapped in, I promise to free you. I promise our children that their mother will be back!" He exclaimed desperately again, his hold on your shoulder tightening even further as he tried to tug you back to reality.

He tried so hard to hold his tears. He could not take it anymore to not have you by his side. For a decade, he had tried to get you back but he failed so many times as he was not powerful enough at using his magic. Even his unique magic was useless to save you.

'I'm your husband but I'm so useless'

"I miss you, love..." Your heart wavered. "I miss your cooking, I miss your laughter. I miss your hug. I need you. We should not give up," His hold on your shoulder loosen as he pulled you into his arms and desperately held you close. "Don't give up on me, please"

There was a moment of silence as you hesitated and reconsidered your decision but you must choose the best action among the worst. "Ace, listen to me, please" Your firm voice softening slightly as you figured that you need to explain to this husband of yours the consequence of his action.

"We cannot fight Malleus. We've tried to escape so many times but we never succeed. I'm worried about you and our children's safety, Ace. I remember all the pain you need to bear just to save me. What if Malleus after you and our children in the real world. I'm very afraid, Ace. I want all of you to live well."

You gently placed your hand on his back, trying to offer him reassurance as the memories of him trying to save you from the endless dream played in your mind.

Ace took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He had not expected this conversation to head into this direction. "I know that we cannot defeat Malleus. The dreamscape is a powerful realm designed to keep you trapped."

"However," he continued, his tone growing firmer, "I refuse to abandon you either. We may not be able to defeat Malleus, but that does not mean we should give up. Instead, we will continue to search for a way. Even if it takes until the end of time, I refuse to give up on you. I will never sacrifice my wife."

He repeated, his resolve growing stronger with each word. You clenched the pendant tightly in your hand upon hearing his words.

"Well, well, well... I was wondering what had slipped into the area..." A dark, sinister voice filled the area with a sense of dread and urgency. Both of you tensed up with the sound of his voice and Ace tighten his hold around you as Malleus appeared before you. His bright, green, vertical-slit pupils shot daggers at Ace, visibly infuriated upon seeing him with his arms wrapped around his darling wife.

"You... Trappola... Do human don't understand the word of giving up. You stepped into my castle without permission not just once, but multiple times... That's too rude!" Malleus stated, his voice dripping with annoyance and hostility.

His tone made it clear that he had little patience or tolerance at this point. Thorns even started climbing up the wall of the castle. The atmosphere itself was growing darker with each passing second. Malleus power was overwhelming.

"It's alright, it's no big deal." Malleus stated confidently, with a smug and confident look on his face. "This is my magical realm, so I can make my own laws and decide how to punish any uninvited guest."

He had been far too kind and lenient towards Ace all the time, allowing him to come into his realm so many times without any repercussions. He figured it was time to put a final end to this situation. A magic circle form over his hand as he aimed it to hit Ace. He caught the look in your eyes.

'The same look as the night I take you. Look into those eyes. The very eyes that rejected me again and again.'

"Whatever, it's the same thing. No matter how many times he comes, uninvited guests will be turned away. Over and over again..." As he about to hit Ace, you screamed at the top of your lungs.

"Malleus, I choose you!" Ace's eyes widened in shock and disbelief with your declaration.

"No- Y/N-"

"HahahaHAHAHAHA I know you are smart. My darling wife, the joy you have brought me throughout the years is without compare. Our children are fortunate to have been gifted with such a loving and caring mother as you,"

Malleus spoke with affection, his voice like honeyed words that melted the hearts of everyone that heard it. He used a powerful gust of wind to throw Ace away as he came closer to you, his smile widened, his cold, ruthless demeanor unchanged as he stared at you tirelessly. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

"Wa-wait a minute, that's not right! I'm your real husband! He's just trying to manipulate you with all of these dreams. Wake up, now! Our children need you! I need you, Y/N!"

Ace desperately tried to make his way back toward you, but before he could, Malleus snapped his fingers and a powerful burst of magic unleashed. A dark, sinister essence surged through Ace's body and he was instantly transformed into pieces of wood, crumbling and disintegrating right in front of you.

The cruel and cold-hearted display of power sent a jolt of fear and panic through your thoughts. You were left stunned, horrified, and speechless by the sight before you. You just realised that you had just lost your husband to the cruel hands of Malleus.

"Sometimes, my creations do get out of character, my darling wife." Malleus stated, calmly and casually, as if it was not a big deal. "I apologise for that. Oh and you don't need this, don't you?" He took the pendant from your hand forcefully and burned it casually without care of your frightened gaze.

"You shouldn't care about someone who died, after all..." He laughed and grabbed your chin, bringing his face close to yours as he enjoyed your fear.

"Your happy ending would only end with me, my darling wife. Until then, succumb to this unending daze with me." He whispered sweetly near your ear.

[THE END]

@d3sperate-enuf

PART 4 <<, >> EXTRA

[zaddyazula]

my thesis on how nishiki, ryuji and mine are alive with basically no evidence other than my memory

nishiki is sort of on tender hooks here. my main reason for thinking he’s alive is that kiryu and haruka survived the fucking bomb blast while only being a few couple of metres away from nishiki. koi boy himself was still quite a few metres away from the bomb when he shot it. it’s possible he survived with some serious injuries (though somehow kiryu and haruka got out unscathed??? 😭😭😭); we don’t actually see nishiki afterwards - no dead body, only the sort of word that he’s dead. was he fatally shot… erm… that’s not important. police showed up straight afterwards anyways so if he was still alive he could’ve gotten medical help. does it make narrative sense for nishiki to die? yes. does it make narrative sense to bring him back? no. the daidoji could’ve got to him and recruited him i guess. they did it with hanawa/morinaga, who was also offscreened like nishiki (who technically was). we sort of just assume nishiki’s dead, considering he’s never been alluded to be alive, when technically we don’t really know if he truly is dead. kiryu and haruka surviving is the main point here, and seeing as how they miraculously sustained no injuries when being 10m at best away from the bomb, it’s possible that nishiki miraculously survived while being 5m at the most away from it. unlike ryuji and mine, there’s really no other hints at him possibly being alive. in reality, i don’t think nishiki will ever be brought back. as much i want him to, considering the position kiryu’s in now, it doesn’t really make much sense. it doesn’t make much sense anyways; nishiki’s death is a large part of his [kiryu’s] character, and alongside both yumi and kazama’s deaths, it marks the separation of kiryu from not only his youth but also the yakuza (or at least the start of it).

now, ryuji. my goat. my queen. the reason i am this insane over these comeback theories. unlike nishiki, ryuji has been hinted many, many a time to be alive, from as early as fucking dead souls (2011! FUCKING FIVE YEARS AFTER 2!) dead souls basically fucking proves he could be alive, because he literally is, and is just missing an arm (binding vow? 😭 it’s been too long since i’ve seen dead souls i can’t remember what the deal with his arm is). this is damning evidence, if i do say so myself. and he’s just living life, working at a food stand (my goat). dead souls confirms that he could’ve survived. ryuji’s death itself is slightly more damning for this thesis (😪). does he die on screen, unlike the other two (nishiki is on tender hooks for this as i said earlier)? maybe. so what, maybe he technically dies on screen? the important thing is, two seconds after he fucking “dies”, sayama and kiryu just start lipsing each other and don’t really pay attention to him. he got shot twice yeah, then got beat to hell by kiryu, but kiryu survived the same injuries (it’s not like ryuji just stood there and let himself get ragged by kiryu) so. it cancels out. you don’t hear anything about ryuji’s death after this basically (from what i can remember). BUT! because of dead souls, that immediately throws his on screen “death” into question. even if dead souls isn’t canon because it literally is a zombie invasion game, that possibility of ryuji being alive in canon is very much there. if it’s possible in the ridiculous zombie spin off, it’s possible in the main line. so, next port of call, and also the most recent damning evidence. gaiden and 8. i remember there being a tweet from rgg about ryuji in gaiden (as in the coliseum) but i literally went through the western rgg’s whole account and couldn’t find it, so i might just be making that up.

this is from a gaiden trailer (most likely; i couldn’t find it myself), but i found it from here:(https://blog.ja.playstation.com/2023/11/06/20231106-ryu7gaiden/) the article is from the 6th nov last year, so three days before gaiden’s official release.

this is what two translations say from the picture (i can’t translate it myself). the second one makes more sense to me but i don’t really trust google translate. just thought i’d mention this as it was from before gaiden’s release.

anyways, onto gaiden itself. this fucking game oh my god. this is where most of the baiting for ryuji comes from.

exhibit a

genuine piss take. obviously this isn’t ryuji who you fight, but the game is explicitly hinting at the possibility he’s still alive.

exhibit b

INCLUDING ME! even though in december it’ll be 18 years since yakuza 2 came out and ryuji’s death, hope has not been lost ✊😪. rgg is dangling ryuji in front of us. i’m fairly sure this is from the akame mission about ryuji (ghost of sotenbori), and i did boot up gaiden to see if i could replay it, but i didn’t have a save where i hadn’t done it. well ryuji doesn’t actually turn up so 🤷‍♂️ there’s two fakes you have to deal with in the mission (if my memory serves), and with the one in the coliseum that makes it three times ryuji was baited in gaiden. then of course, infinite wealth. there isn’t as much here, but it’s still quite a big bait.

i mean what the fuck kiryu. do you know something we don’t.

yeah i booted up a save of 8 too. ‘…any moment now. if only that were possible.’ kiryu knows something… that’s pretty much it for ryuji bait, from what i can remember and think of. another thing though is that rgg do clearly love ryuji, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they did bring him back. and considering how much they’ve baited us with a possible comeback in recent games, i think it’s safe to assume they’re up to something.

(also just want to mention the leaks awhile ago about a ryuji game. i’m pretty sure it’s based on his rgg online story which is set before 2 (1999 i think), so i’m not gonna talk about it here.)

now, finally, mine!!! he’s the most straightforward out of all three of them now because of 8. if we cast our minds back to yakuza 3, mine throws himself off a building along with richardson. and who makes an appearance in 8? richardson, alive. richardson being alive effectively confirms mine has at least a pretty big chance of being so too. one thing i do find funny is that mine wasn’t mentioned once in kiryu’s memoirs of a dragon (from what i could see), but nishiki and ryuji are. i actually don’t think mine is referenced other than in kiryu’s essence of remembrance, but he might’ve been and i’m just not aware of it. i actually don’t know how if richardson survived mine didn’t, because the latter would not save the former from death if they hit the ground (that hospital is ridiculously fucking tall). it’s been 15 and a half years (exactly to the day!) since yakuza 3 released, aka mine’s death, and out of the three he’s the most likely to be alive. considering how richardson survived, i don’t even know if you can count mine falling off the building as an off screen, because now we don’t actually know if he did in fact die. before 8, it seemed pretty improbable that mine would be alive, but it was the same situation as nishiki. also it’s not the most ridiculous death that someone’s come back from from yakuza 3. lau ka long got shot in the forehead ON SCREEN and kashiwagi got ragged by a fucking helicopter minigun ON SCREEN and they both fucking survived 😭 so mine taking a tumble off the top of a hospital isn’t the most extreme thing to survive. rgg also seem to like mine too, but we don’t see nearly as much hinting to him as we do with ryuji. i had a little look on youtube and:

THINGS WERE TOUCH AND GO??? 😭 what is this now the rubber floor??? i don’t even know. would they bring mine back though??? i don’t really know again. i mean i just take richardson being alive to mine also being out there so. make of it what you will.

but there you go. my extensive knowledge and research on how the goats of rgg are still alive. on everyone else’s lives but mine the three of them are gonna come back!

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 1)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Y/N

Warnings: Anxiety

The day had started just like any other on set. You woke up early, feeling the familiar exhaustion that had settled into your bones over the last few months. Pregnancy was proving to be more challenging than you had imagined. Your mornings were a blur of nausea and fatigue, and the demands of your job as a wardrobe assistant were relentless. Still, your passion for fashion and film kept you going, even on the toughest days.

You arrived on set, coffee in hand, and exchanged greetings with the crew. Everyone was buzzing with excitement about the new project. You tried to immerse yourself in the work, focusing on the costumes and ensuring everything was perfect. But there was a lingering anxiety you couldn’t shake off.

You retreated to your trailer for a brief moment of peace, intending to review the script. As you flipped through the pages, your heart sank when you read his name.

Executive Producer: Cillian Murphy.

It had been four months since the last time you saw him. Four months since you had shared those passionate, secret nights behind closed doors. Four months since you had agreed to stay friends after the filming of Peaky Blinders had ended. Four months since you had discovered you were pregnant with his child.

Your hand instinctively went to your growing belly. You had kept the secret from everyone, not wanting to disrupt his life, especially after hearing he had gotten back together with his wife, Siobhan. It hurt, more than you wanted to admit. You had fallen for him, and the pain of his absence was a constant ache in your chest.

You were lost in thought when a knock on your trailer door startled you. You quickly composed yourself and opened the door, only to find one of the production assistants standing there, looking a bit flustered.

"Hey, we need you on set. There’s been a change in the schedule," she said.

You nodded, grabbed your things, and followed her out. As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if Cillian was already here. You had managed to avoid thinking too much about seeing him again, but now that it was imminent, the anxiety bubbled up again.

The set was bustling with activity. You threw yourself into your work, trying to ignore the nagging thoughts of Cillian. But it was impossible. Every corner you turned, you half-expected to see him standing there.

And then, you did.

He was in deep conversation with the director, looking every bit the charismatic and focused professional you remembered. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you stood frozen, unable to move. The sight of him brought back a flood of memories—late-night talks, stolen kisses, and the feeling of being completely and utterly understood by someone.

You turned quickly, trying to avoid being seen, but it was too late. Cillian’s eyes met yours, and you saw the flash of recognition in them. He excused himself from the conversation and started walking toward you.

Your mind raced. What would you say? How would you handle this? The last thing you wanted was to confront him about your pregnancy right now, in front of everyone.

"Hey," Cillian said as he reached you, his voice soft and familiar.

"Hi," you replied, forcing a smile. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," he said, his eyes searching yours. "How have you been?"

"Busy," you replied quickly. "You know how it is."

He nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answer. There was so much unsaid between you, so much you both needed to address. But now wasn’t the time.

"I heard you’re back with Siobhan," you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

Cillian’s expression faltered for a moment. "Yeah, we’re… working things out," he said, though his tone lacked conviction.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say more. The pain of seeing him again, knowing what you knew, was almost too much to bear.

"Listen," he said, stepping closer. "Can we talk? Later, maybe? There’s a lot we need to catch up on."

You hesitated, your hand subconsciously moving to your belly. "Sure," you finally said. "Later."

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to handle this. The secret of your pregnancy, the unresolved feelings, the complicated mess of your lives—it was all too much. You knew one thing for sure: pretending everything was fine wasn’t going to work anymore.

Later that day, after the day’s filming had wrapped, you found yourself standing outside Cillian’s trailer. You took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in," came his voice from inside.

You opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind you. Cillian was sitting on the couch, looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes that had always seen right through you.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Finally, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

"I’m pregnant," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

The revelation hung heavy in the air, thick with tension and unspoken emotions. Cillian's expression shifted from shock to a mix of anger and confusion as the weight of your words settled in.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice was strained, a hint of accusation laced within the words.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "I didn’t know how," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I thought… I thought you had moved on with Siobhan, and I didn’t want to disrupt your life."

Cillian ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "But this is my child, too," he insisted, his tone firm. "I have a right to know."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks now. "I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I was on the pill, but I got sick, and I didn’t realize it could affect the effectiveness of the contraception."

He took in your words, his expression softening slightly as he processed the information. "You didn’t do this on purpose," he said, more to himself than to you.

You shook your head, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "No, of course not. I would never trap you like that. I just… I didn’t think you would want to be involved with me again."

Cillian’s gaze softened, and he reached out to gently wipe away your tears. "I’m here now," he said softly. "And I want to be involved. This baby is a part of both of us, and I won’t turn my back on that."

You looked up at him, gratitude and disbelief mingling in your eyes. "You mean that?" you whispered.

He nodded, his hand still resting on your belly. "Yes, I do. I want to be there for you, every step of the way."

You felt a surge of hope and longing, but you knew the reality of the situation. "But what about Siobhan? And your son?" you asked, the weight of the situation settling back in.

Cillian sighed, his expression pained. "I’ll have to tell them," he admitted. "It won’t be easy, but I can’t keep this from them."

You nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of the complications ahead. "I understand," you said quietly.

There was a moment of silence as you both processed the enormity of the situation. Then, Cillian’s phone buzzed, interrupting the moment.

He glanced down at the screen, his expression tense. "It’s Siobhan," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "I have to go."

You felt a pang of disappointment, knowing that this conversation was far from over. "Okay," you said softly, pushing back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Thank you for listening."

Cillian stood up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. "I’ll call you," he promised before turning and walking out the door.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held. Would he really leave Siobhan for you? Could you ever truly be together, or would this moment be nothing more than a fleeting dream? Only time would tell, but for now, you held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for you and Cillian to find happiness together.

[faefictions]

Hospital Meet Cute | Pt 2

Eddie Munson x Reader

3k words

Warnings: depiction of a panic attack, mentions of parent death and incarceration

“Just in here,” Eddie spoke as he helped you cross the threshold into his trailer. He was gentle as he led you to the couch. 

Your appearance and demeanor had shifted since the night he met you, almost a week prior now. Your arm was now in a cast, the bags under your eyes were 10 shades darker, and it was much harder to get you to crack a smile. 

It wasn’t a sudden switch. When he came back to your hospital room that first night, The Lord of the Rings in hand, you were giggling at every new voice he pulled out of his back pocket. You had been exhausted, but you did your best to stay awake, just to soak up every second you could with him by your side.

Eddie could barely sense the shift in your mood until it was the complete opposite from when he met you. There were moments here and there, but it wasn’t until the last night in the hospital that he saw a more vulnerable side of you. It was the side he saw in front of Hopper that first night, the side of you that he desperately wanted to protect. 

A nurse had come into the room around 6pm to bring you dinner, and with what she deemed to be great news. 

“You’ll be discharged first thing in the morning.”

Eddie lit up at the phrase, excited to finally get you out of the dreary hospital room and away from the drab food that you had been choking down. As the nurse left the room, his gaze switched to you, and he caught the look of terror in your eye before you faked a smile back at him. He wasn’t sure if he should mention it, but after an hour of you being unable to so much as look at your food, he decided to try. 

“You don’t seem too chipper about getting out of your lovely little prison cell tomorrow,” he began, studying every inch of your face in hopes of understanding you the best he could. 

“No, it’s not that I…” you began to make an excuse, but you couldn’t even think of a lie. Eddie could see your discomfort, so he scooted closer to you in his chair. He brought his hand up next to yours, as an offering in case you needed it. 

“Can I be real with you?” you spoke again, finally turning your head to really look at Eddie. You knew his answer before he spoke, because the moment your eyes met, his entire body visibly melted. 

“Of course,” he smiled and moved his hand the last few inches to join with yours. 

“Everything I owned was in that car,” you tried to start by stating the obvious, hoping he would catch the issue before you had to say the hard parts, “And the place I left was barely even a home years before I left it.”

“What a perfect time to start over.”

“I don’t have a penny to my name. And I barely had a place in mind when I started driving. I don’t know where to go from here.” 

Your voice began to pick up speed, and he could hear your breath doing the same. 

“You don’t have to worry that far. You can stay with me for as long as you need, and that’s all you need to worry about for now. Right now, you just need to focus on healing. I’ll take care of everything else until you’re back on your feet.”

“I met you less than a week ago. I can’t ask you to-”

“Freaks need to stick together. I’m helping you whether you like it or not.”

His voice wasn’t harsh, though his words almost felt like a threat. It was with pure intention though, and you knew that. 

You remained mostly quiet for the rest of the night, still refusing to eat your food. You barely spoke a word the next morning on the way to Eddie’s trailer. The absurdity of your circumstances were really starting to soak in. 

Every single thing you had ever loved, ever held dearly, had been turned to ash less than 10 miles from where you stood. You hadn’t grown fond of many things, hadn’t wanted to hold on to many memories, but that didn’t make this any easier. 

You were currently sitting in an oversized pair of sweats and an unflattering t-shirt. The only clothing you owned that had not been burned to a crisp were now covered in dried blood from the crash. These were the only things the nurses could find for you to wear home from the hospital, and you weren’t going to complain. 

But Eddie wanted you as comfortable as possible, so the second he got you seated on the couch, bag with bloodied clothes in hand, he rushed off to his room to find you something to change into. He could always give you the tour later. 

Half an hour later, now wearing Eddie’s favorite Dio shirt and an old pair of gym shorts, you were struggling to focus on anything he said. 

Hospitality still wasn't something you were used to, and it felt burdensome to put on someone else. Even when that person was forcing it upon you. You couldn't help but dwell on the self pity as he told you about Hawkins, and every word was in one ear, out the other. 

Eddie could tell you weren't listening, but he would have hated the silence just as much as you if he stopped his rant, so he continued until he ran into the rare occurrence where he ran out of things to say, at which point, he turned on the TV.

That same dead look in your eye remained for the rest of the night. Eddie had made you dinner and forced you to eat every last bite, although the nausea you were feeling had only gotten worse since leaving the hospital. 

It pained him to leave you, but Eddie knew that you needed sleep shortly after you finished eating. You looked tired, but not in a way that sleep would heal. He knew that resting would help, but he feared that leaving you alone would only pull you deeper into the hole he sensed you were falling into.

That was why he didn't hesitate when you asked him if you could both sleep in the living room for the night. You were embarrassed to ask at first, unsure what he was planning on for sleeping arrangements. But you knew there was only one bedroom, and you were barely willing to even think about being alone in an unfamiliar  room right now.

You been here before. Not physically, of course, but mentally. The night after your dad died. You were fresh in a foster home, temporarily until they could locate any relative they could find. You knew that their search would return fruitless, that you were doomed to be passed from one temporary home to another. 

That feeling, the dread you felt that night, was the same feeling you felt now. You couldn't remember how long it had lasted the first time, or how many times you'd felt it since. What you did know was that it hadn't been this bad since that night, and you were worried it would get worse. 

As Eddie returned with what you assumed was every single blanket and pillow he owned, you looked up at him, trying to will yourself to speak. He glanced at you as you raised your head to speak, and he was met with a little more life behind your eyes than he had seen all night. However, that life was in the form of tears brimming your lower lids. You inhaled sharply, and closed your mouth as you began to panic, not knowing what you were supposed to say to him. 

"Hey, what's going on," he quickly dropped the remaining pillows and dove onto the cushion next to you. 

Out of pure instinct, he grabbed you and gently brought your head to his chest. If he had been thinking clearly, he might have asked what you needed from him, or had tried to get to the bottom of the tears first. But after seeing that state you had been in all day, your breaking point was his too. 

Feeling the warmth of his arms around you, the rising and fall of his chest picking up in worry for you, and the soft fiddling of his fingers on the ends of your hair was all too much. You hated to do it, but you burst into sobs against his body. Your crying only grew louder and more desperate as you considered the fact that you had worked yourself up so much about being a burden that you had made yourself even more of one. 

“It’s ok, you’re alright,” he whispered as he held you. He was about ready to cry himself, hearing your sobs nearly turn to screams. He refused to stop holding you, and luckily you weren’t putting up a fight. In fact, your fists began to pull at his shirt, bringing him even closer. He would have let you stay just like that, but as you pulled, he could hear you start to hyperventilate, and he knew you needed more help than he was providing. 

“Hey sweetheart, I need you to sit up a little for me,” he winced as he pulled you away from him, eliciting a yelp from you that nearly made him cave. 

“It’s ok, I’m still right here, we just need you to calm down a little, ok?”

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, struggling to catch your breath. 

“No, no apologies. There’s nothing you need to say sorry for, ok? Can you look at me?” 

Eddie waited for your eyes to slowly meet his before he continued. 

“Good job, can you sit up just a little more? I’ll still be right here.”

Your breathing didn’t slow as you sat up, but you trusted Eddie enough to do whatever he said in the moment. 

“Good, now put your hand right here,” he grasped your wrist and guided you to rest your fingers against his chest, “Is it ok if I put mine here?” he asked as he slowly brought his own to a spot higher on your chest. You nodded quickly, still staring directly in his eyes as you awaited his next instructions. 

“I need you to try to breathe with me, ok? When I breathe in, you do the same, and let it out when I do. Do you think you can do that?” 

You nodded once again in reply, so he began to take slow, deep breaths. It only took a couple tries for your breathing to start regulating, and the embarrassment you had felt started to rise as a blush in your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you said, no longer through tears. 

“I said no apologies,” he smiled at you. 

You wanted to fight him on it, but you were winded. So instead, you removed your hand from his chest, prompting him to do the same. You both leaned back against your respective arm rests on the couch, but as you avoided Eddie's gaze, he refused to look away from you. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, cautiously. He knew how easy it would be to scare you off. How easy it had been for anyone to scare him off in high school. He knew how risky it was to even ask, but there was no way in Hell he was about to let you think you were alone in this. 

You glanced up at him, barely making eye contact before you shot your eyes away. Of course, you didn’t want to talk to him, or anyone else for that matter, but you weren’t sure what else to do. How else to feel better. To feel safer. 

“How did you know how to do that?” 

“I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks. My uncle used to have to calm me down the same way after I came to live with him.” 

“You lived with your uncle?”

“Yeah, I got dropped off with him after my dad got locked up.”

“How old were you?”

“12.”

You were left speechless at that confession. You were the same age when your father died. There was something almost comforting about thinking that while you were going through one of the hardest moments of your life, little Eddie was somewhere out there doing the same. 

“Did I say something?” Eddie grew nervous at your sudden silence and incredulous look. 

“No, I… we’re just more alike than I thought.”

There was a pause as he calculated his response, which came after he began to fidget with the cloth of your shorts, right where they ended at your knee. 

“You lose your parents too?”

You nodded,”Mom left when I was 5 and Dad died when I was 12.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t have an Uncle Wayne to be dropped off with?”

“No. I was in a couple different foster placements until I turned 18. Then I had my own apartment until I decided to pack everything up and lose it all in a car fire.”

“Were they good to you?”

“What?”

“The foster parents. Were they good to you?”

“Relatively. I mean they gave me a place to sleep, fed me everyday. I wasn’t asking for much more than that. And it’s not like they were obligated to give me more anyway.” 

“But you deserved it.”

“I was a shithead teenager at the time. Some of those people were practically saints for not kicking me out after the meltdowns I had.”

“You were a child. Dealing with the loss of both of your parents, and I don’t imagine you had very many people outside of your home helping you process your grief. You deserved more.”

Everything he said was so matter of fact, but as he continued he grew more insistent. He needed you to believe every word he was saying.

“You deserved someone that loved you. Someone that you could go to after something like this, and someone that could prove to you that you were not just a shithead teenager. You were a human being, dealing with shit tougher than half of the actual shitheads that made your life a living hell will ever have to deal with.”

“Thanks Eddie, but it’s fine. Made me who I am today.”

“Calloused and unaccepting of help?” “Exactly,” you smiled, and Eddie couldn’t help but let out a breath of tension. 

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you are a shithead,” he chuckled and grabbed the nearest blanket to throw at you. 

You both giggled as you uncovered yourself from his projectile, finally feeling the weight lift from the atmosphere. 

“Ok, which couch do you want to sleep on? We’ll get you all settled in.”

“Whichever one you don’t want to sleep on,” you replied genuinely, but Eddie was not having it.

“No, from here on out, you are being treated the way that 12 year old you should have been. So you choose your couch, I’ll get you a glass of water, and you’ll go to sleep so you’re well rested for our shopping trip tomorrow.”

“Shopping trip?”

“You think 12 year old you deserved my sweaty old gym shorts to live in? Absolutely not. We’re going to get you your own clothes, your own food, your own pillow and blanket, and anything else 12 year old you would have wanted.”

“I was 12, I probably wanted a pony at that age.”

“Well 12 year old you might have to wait a little longer for that one. My trailer isn’t going to make a great stable,” he laughed. 

“You really don’t have to do that though. You letting me sleep here is more than enough.”

“I said you deserved more than a meal and a place to sleep and I meant it. Now, which couch do you want.”

You hesitated for a second, but ultimately replied that you would stay on the couch you were already on. You tried not to smile at his pleased expression as he tucked you in and got you a glass of water, as promised. 

“TV on or off? And don’t you dare say ‘whatever you want’”, he mocked your voice in a way that made you giggle. 

“Can we turn it on low? I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep in silence.”

“That’s more like it,” he smiled and turned to grab the remote. He turned it to a pleasant home shopping channel, and turned the volume down low. 

After he grabbed the rest of the blankets to put on the other couch for himself, he returned to crouch in front of you. 

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, mischief now replaced with the same concern from earlier. 

“I don’t think so. And no, I’m not just saying that,” you smirked. 

“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll be 2 feet away if you need anything. Please don’t be afraid to wake me up, ok?”

“Ok,” you smiled back. He began to get up, but you stopped him before he could turn around. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?” he asked, crouching back down. 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to…”

“No, please. Whether I deserve all this or not, it didn’t have to come from you.”

“Well I’m glad it is me,” he smiled in a way that sent a shiver up your spine, but before he could see your blush, he leaned in and kissed your forehead. You were grateful that the light was off when he pulled away so he couldn't see how beet red your face had become. 

“Goodnight,” he whispered before making his way to the other couch. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, heart beating a mile a minute.

Tags: @emma77645 @eli-flower @vivalasv3gan @beeblisss @tiny-bird-of-sunshine @helloheyhihowdyheya @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @yujyujjj @pettydonuts @peachysink @sophal22 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

There may be a part 3 coming your way in the coming months, so please add yourself to my tag list if you would like to be tagged!!

[ideas-on-paper]

Lies of P fan theories - a retrospective (1st anniversary special)

It's been one year now since Lies of P's release, and as someone who has been part of the community since 2022 (joining after the Gamescom trailer absolutely swept me off my feet), it's been amazing to see how invested people were in Lies of P from the get-go, and how much creativity the game has inspired in fans. From the start, we had amazing creations such as fanart, fanfics, and cosplays - and of course, a whole lot of fan theories.

While, naturally, a lot of fan theories people had before the release are debunked right now, I think it'd be fun to take a look back at what people were expecting the story to be like, and how those theories from back then compare to the final game. For that purpose, I will share my own theories that I had pre-release, as well as some from various other people (unfortunately, I lack the sources in most cases, but I’ll do my best to provide credit where they’re from). So, strap in and get ready for a special trip down memory lane! :-)

[Lies of P spoilers!]

Ergo and the Petrification Disease

One big mystery that was set up as early as the first gameplay footage was the nature of Ergo - all we knew from tool tips people painstakingly picked out (kudos to you, btw <3) was that it was some sort of power crystal that was used as an energy source for puppets and responsible for Krat's wealth, but that also brought a curse with it. People on the official Lies of P Discord server were puzzling over what exactly Ergo is, when I came up with a somewhat eccentric theory: that Ergo is crystallized life force itself.

My basis for this theory was essentially the movie “Atlantis: The Lost Empire” (which I’m a big fan of).

[Fair warning, I'm gonna spoil the main plot right here.]

The movie also features a huge, cyan blue crystal (originally a fragment of a comet) that is located in the lost city of Atlantis and believed to be an energy source by a team of explorers. However, as it turns out, it's much more than that: It is the literal life force of the Atlantean people, and if it's taken away from the city, it would mean certain death for all of them. (Which doesn't stop some of the money greedy explorers from trying to do it anyway.) Furthermore, after I became familiar with gestalt consciousnesses, I realized that the crystal possesses a few characteristics of those as well: The crystal has a mind of its own, and right before Kida merges with it in the movie, she whispers “mother” in Atlantean, suggesting she felt her dead mother's presence when the crystal chose her. This could be because her mother merged with the crystal completely (Kida eventually returns with her bracelet, after all), but since the King of Atlantis does say “the crystal thrives on the collected emotions of all who came before us”, it’s highly likely that it is, in fact, a human gestalt intelligence of their deceased ancestors.

[spoilers end]

So when I heard about Ergo being an energy crystal, this was my first idea as well: pure, crystallized life force of dead people. (Also, when I saw the blue color, my brain just went like “Ergo = Atlantis crystal”. xD)

When I shared this theory on the LoP server, one person in particular - named Oxwutex, if I remember correctly (greetings to you if you ever read this ;-) ) - took a liking to it, and together, we spun this theory a little further. They said they could imagine that people tried to refine the Ergo further, which is where the corruption waste in the factory comes from - however, refining something like a life force crystal which is already perfect could have disastrous consequences. I followed this up with my own theory, surmising that if this were the case, the corruption waste and the purified Ergo might represent two sides of the human soul: the vices and the virtues. (A lot of my early theories were based on this dualism, since the distinction between “good” and “evil” actions in the original fairy tale of Pinocchio is pretty prominent.)

Since there were hints that Ergo was responsible for the Petrification Disease early on, I had come up with the idea that the disease was the result of people coming into contact with pure Ergo, leading to a sort of “overpurification”, while I assumed that corrupted/impure Ergo caused the Puppet Frenzy/violent behavior. For me, this was very appealing on a thematic level as well, since it would've symbolized that both vices and virtues are present in every human being. If it was just the vices, we'd turn into feral monsters, but if a person only had virtues, when flaws are the very sign of life... well, you could question whether they are even alive anymore. Metaphorically speaking, they would be made of stone. (It’s interesting to note, however, that the disease was supposed to be spread by magical rats in the beginning; at least that’s what the announcement trailer seems to suggest.)

Back when the demo dropped, the confirmation that Ergo spores were the cause of Petrification Disease made me even more confident in my thesis, as did the “Ergo is Life” pamphlets. When I started streaming Lies of P (my first commented playthrough ever ^^’), I even commented on this, saying:

“Maybe even that this crystal [Ergo] contains the life force of dead people - that's what my speculation was back then.” (My commentary is in German, but here's the video if anyone is interested; the part where I discuss it starts at 26:25.)

Oh boy… I had no idea this was about to age like the finest wine in existence.

About 40 hours of gameplay later, I almost couldn’t believe my ears when Simon confirmed I was dead on target:

“The disease does not signify death. It's the process of purifying a person's essence. A purified human who overcomes the Petrification Disease will gain a strengthened body and a mind free of lies. The essence is Ergo. Yes, the Ergo you use as your power was once a human being.”

When Sophia explained that the Petrification Disease, Puppet Frenzy, and carcass monsters are all linked to Ergo shortly afterwards and literally spelled it out that Ergo is a person’s “essence of life”, I was so flabbergasted that my fan theories were essentially right that I was struck speechless. (You can see my live reaction to the conversations with Simon and Sophia in this video, at 20:08 and 49:56; I think you can tell how gobsmacked I am from just my tone, especially in the conversation with Sophia.) Since I had shared these theories on the official Lies of P server back in the day, some part of my brain even wondered if one of the devs saw it and thought it was so good that they went like “Write that down, write that down!” xD (Though realistically, I don’t think that’s very likely; still, it’s funny to imagine one of the devs reading through the chat, seeing this, and going like “How did they figure this out so fast?!?” xD)

On a more serious note, I didn’t really expect any of my preliminary fan theories to be true at all, but I must say, I’m pretty proud that I essentially hit the mark in this case - not only in regards to Ergo being crystallized life essence, but also the Petrification Disease resulting from “overpurification”.

Another thing I noticed is that Ergo shares not only similarities with the Atlantis crystal, but also with the Protomolecule from The Expanse (I don’t wanna spoil too much of the series’ plot here, but scientists conducting immoral experiments with something they don’t really understand is also a pretty big topic). In addition, a commonality between the crystal and the Protomolecule is that they both came from outer space - and, since there is talk about a “star that answered humans and descended to Earth” in one document, chances are the origin of Ergo is also extraterrestrial.

However, as we know, Ergo wasn’t the actual cause of the Puppet Frenzy - both Sophia’s comment from above and the report from the factory are essentially a “ruse” on the story’s part, supposed to lead you on the wrong track. In truth, it’s Geppetto who overrode the Grand Covenant’s commands and was responsible for the Frenzy.

Still, perhaps the impure Ergo supplies were actually meant to facilitate Geppetto’s plan (the Mad Donkey did say Geppetto and the Alchemists were scheming together, after all) - maybe the more impure the Ergo of a puppet is, the easier it becomes to control them. In contrast, when a person’s Ergo is undiluted and their personality remains largely intact, that might give them more autonomy and make them harder to manipulate. (I think this is what happened with Romeo, who could still give commands to the other puppets despite the zeroth law.)

The backstory of Krat

Speaking of the frenzy, I also had my theories about the potential backstory of it: Lies of P actually motivated me to do some research about real-life automata and their history (people familiar with my LoP posts might be aware of this), and one thing running through it like a common thread from the Middle Ages to the Age of Enlightenment is that automata were always representative of a conflict of rich vs poor.

In fact, during the French Revolution, this was a source of mockery against the country’s nobles, who were compared to their automated toys - pretty and pristine to look at, but soulless on the inside. Meanwhile, it was argued that the poorly paid artisans who built them should be the actual rulers of society, since their minds were clearly superior if they were able to come up with such ingenuity.

For that reason, I was playing around with the idea that there may have been a conflict between the wealthy upper class and the working class prior to the Puppet Frenzy. The competition between the Bastards and the Sweepers seemed to hint at something like this as well, and since the Alchemists were already teased as the enigmatic masterminds early on, I suspected they might have exploited this struggle, releasing the Puppet Frenzy to effectively eliminate both parties and seize power themselves. (Since there was a gameplay tip about the puppets gaining awareness by themselves, I even assumed they might have become self-aware right before the frenzy; in hindsight though, I think this was meant to refer to the old selves of some puppets awakening due to Ergo.)

As of the June 2023 demo, however, these theories were effectively debunked: We learned that the Puppet Frenzy occurred independently of any public uprisings, and that another wave of Petrification Disease had plagued the city at almost the same time - note the word “another”, implying this wasn’t the first time this disease had spread in Krat. Also, I frankly didn’t connect the dots correctly that Bastards and Sweepers were both part of the Stalkers  - while Stalkers and Bastards/Sweepers were mentioned in the same gameplay tip, it didn’t specify that the latter were subgroups of one and the same organization. (I wasn’t the only one to interpret this wrong either, since other people assumed the Stalkers to be puppets or even cyborgs.)

Still, it does appear there were some class struggles in the history of Krat: We hear about how the old, privileged families of Krat “struggled for power with new forces such as the Workshop and the Alchemists, who brought about the golden era of Krat”, although that conflict seems to have taken place a long time ago. Also, according to the description of the Krat Police Baton, there was a “violent protest with the factory labor union” once.

Although this isn’t much and doesn’t tell us anything about the background of the protest or the exact circumstances of it, I have been wondering whether it might have been due to low payment and factory laborers being replaced by puppets. Although this may sound very modern, protests against mechanization due to workers losing their jobs and the creation of inhumane working conditions go back as far as the Swing Riots in 1830. It should be said that the riots were less due to technophobia of the workers and more due to the endangerment of their economic and social status in the face of rapid technological advancement, and given that the rise of puppets in Krat happened very fast, the ordinary workers would definitely have been on the losing side.

I don’t know if this is ever going to be explored further at any point, but I would certainly be interested in hearing more about it - or more about the history of Krat in general, if only to clear up some details and make the timeline less confusing.

Pinocchio and Gemini

Let’s talk a bit about our protagonist and his sidekick: Pinocchio and Gemini. Like many other fans, I also had the theory early on that Pino was modeled after Geppetto’s dead son (I think this theory was based on some item description, but I can’t remember which). People on the server speculated that Geppetto’s son died in a violent accident that cost him his arm, and I even took things a step further by suggesting that Pino might literally be wearing his son’s skin (more on this “freak theory” of mine here).

Furthermore, I was quite partial to the idea that Gemini was essentially the soul of Geppetto’s deceased son. I didn’t really have anything to back this up aside from Gemini’s name meaning “twin”, so I never shared it publicly on the LoP server. (Also, Gemini is essentially just a corruption of Jiminy, the name that Disney came up with for the cricket; in the fairy tale itself, the cricket is not named.) Still, I found the concept of Pino essentially being the “body” and Gemini the “soul” very appealing - they may have been split from each other, but they are inseparable all the same. It also goes a bit into Descartes’ mind-body dualism, which is a popular theme in sci-fi stories about robots and cyborgs.

It led me to some fun speculations regarding the story: Assuming that, perhaps, Geppetto’s son died due to an incident on his way to the school he went to (since Pinocchio also goes to school in the novel), and further assuming that this happened a relatively short time ago, maybe some of his son’s former classmates are still alive, and Pinocchio would cross paths with them at some point. They assume him to be Geppetto’s son, asking where he’s been all this time and why he suddenly has a metal arm. Pinocchio then has the option to answer “yes, I am that boy” and come up with some plausible explanation, or to tell them “no, you’re mistaken” which would make things… somewhat more complicated.

I imagined that if Pino went with the first option, Gemini would chime in and provide advice at times to help him navigate interactions with the other boys. My assumption was that while Pino may look identical to Geppetto’s son, he possesses none of his memories; meanwhile, Gemini can still remember his past lifetime, despite being unaware that these memories actually belong to him. (His amnesia was hinted at in the demo as well.) Essentially, he would give Pino brief summaries of past events and tips how to behave in certain situations, and Pino would say “Thanks. Where do you know all of this from?” And Gemini would go like “...Sorry, no idea, buddy.” (You can tell I really wanted them to do something with Gemini.)

Due to the description of the Last Resort, there was also the theory going around there might have been multiple iterations of Pino - in fact, since the text said that the old man feared “his son failing to awaken properly and going into a frenzy”, some people assumed that Pino might have been the original catalyst of the frenzy. After the encounter with Mad Donkey in the demo, the theory that Pino was not the first of his kind seemed all the more likely, since he has definitely met him before and said “This time it's destroyed for sure. Devil's puppet no more, eh?” if you died.*

*I actually do not know if this line is in the final game as well, since I didn’t die to him during my two playthroughs (yes, really).

While it’s entirely possible - but not confirmed - that Pino had predecessor models (I theorized the Broken Puppet in the swamp might be one of those), the remark about the frenzy is more likely referring to Geppetto not being entirely sure whether the override of the laws he himself caused would affect Pino as well (which may be one of the reasons he didn’t bind him to the Covenant). As for the circumstances of Pino and the Mad Donkey’s previous meeting, those are a little more obscure - it appears that Pino wasn’t even able to wake up without Sophia’s help, so the only possible explanation is that the Mad Donkey fought one of his predecessors. (The Nameless Puppet probably also existed back then, but Carlo’s corpse - ironically - has next to no similarity with Pino, so it’s unlikely the Mad Donkey would’ve recognized them as the same.)

Someone on Tumblr even had a completely different theory about Geppetto's presumed son: After the official release month trailer dropped (the release being later moved to September), they commented on the facial similarities between Pino and Simon, proposing that Simon might actually be Geppetto’s “lost son”, implying they became estranged at some point - and since Geppetto no longer views Simon as his son/considers him dead, he created Pino as a sort of “idealized version” of him. When I was playing the demo and saw the Someone’s Memory outfit, which is noted to have been worn before and features a broach with the initial “M” (possibly denoting “Manus”), I was even considering whether this theory might be true.

As we learn during the game, however, Geppetto’s son - Carlo - is actually dead, and the initial signifies “Monad” (from Monad Charity House) rather than “Manus”. Unbeknownst to me, I might have actually come pretty close to the final version with my theory about an accident near the school during which he lost his arm - the possibility that Carlo died during the Monad Charity House incident is something I discussed with @lopposting some time ago (take it with a grain of salt though, since none of this is confirmed).

As for my theory about the skin, I had a major freak-out when I found Carlo’s portrait in-game, and I went like “I swear, if this is true, I’m gonna have such a Dr. Malcolm moment of “boy, do I hate being right all the time”.” xD I was spared that, however, as there is nothing that specifically hints at Pino having real skin, and the existence of the Nameless Puppet makes my original theory even less likely (as I mentioned in the post linked above). At the same time, there is nothing that explicitly contradicts it, either - so, for now, it’s more or less a big question mark hanging in the air.

One thing that’s for certain though is that Gemini is not the soul of Carlo - Carlo’s soul is contained in his heart/the P-Organ, and although Pino doesn’t possess Carlo’s memories, the reason that prevents them from awakening is not precisely clear (I go over my own favored interpretation here). Meanwhile, Gemini’s own identity remains unknown - while it appears Gemini was originally supposed to have a subplot regarding his amnesia, the few comments hinting at it are never built upon. I really wish they would’ve done more with Gemini, but there’s still a good chance the DLC might shine some light on who he actually is.

Hotel guests and side characters

Aside from the main characters, speculation was also running wild about the supporting characters and the roles they would play in the story.

Since Eugénie’s name is taken from Eugene, a classmate of Pinocchio in the original book and part of Lampwick’s gang of rascals, my original theory was Eugénie might have something to do with him. In all the promotional material*, there wasn’t a single trace of Lampwick, and since one of the loading screen tips in the demo said something about Eugénie being rescued by a particular Stalker, my suspicion was that this might be Lampwick. (Probably in no small part thanks to all the fanworks featuring Puppet Hunter Lampwick.)

*IGN sort of leaked Romeo's existence by accident, but that completely flew over my head; more on that below.

As it turns out, however, Alidoro was the one who saved Eugénie and whom she holds great admiration for. In the book, it was Pinocchio rather than Eugene whom Alidoro - a police dog - saved. After he got saved by Pinocchio from drowning, that is - which was after he ran into the sea trying to chase down Pinocchio who had escaped from two policemen, who erroneously assumed it was Pinocchio who knocked Eugene unconscious with a book. Anyway, it’s complicated.

One thing Oxwutex had cleverly noticed is that Eugénie wears a badge with the Workshop symbol just like Geppetto (which looks very similar to the Square and Compass symbol of Freemasonry), concluding that Eugénie must also be part of the Workshop - and, as it turns out, that was right on the mark.

Antonia was yet another character from the novel that was genderbent in the game, being based on Antonio, the carpenter who finds the animated log that eventually becomes Pinocchio and gives it to Geppetto (after a pretty fierce argument with the latter, that is). Because of this connection to Geppetto, some people assumed Antonia might be Geppetto’s former wife, and thus, the mother of Geppetto’s biological son.

In the game, however, Carlo’s mother is implied to be Camille, while Antonia is just “an old friend of Geppetto’s”. Still, Antonia’s past is somewhat shrouded in mystery, which has spawned theories about her being part of the Alchemists once (the hotel was an Alchemist institution before Antonia took over, and she mentions having good relations with them before she broke with them), and some even assume Antonia to be the Legendary Stalker. As it stands, however, these are mere conjectures - we’ll have to see if any of that is confirmed in the DLC.

Due to his somewhat dubious-seeming appearance, many people assumed Venigni to be the equivalent of the Fox in the game, with Simon consequently being suspected to be Cat due to his missing eye. However, me and many other fans really have been led up the garden path in this regard - while the Fox and the Cat do exist in the game, they are completely separate characters from Venigni and Simon, who are both original additions.

Honestly, out of the entire cast, Venigni is the one that surprised me the most. I thought he was just going to be your run-of-the-mill, profit-driven, snobbish businessman, but he is actually the complete opposite of that - in fact, he's one of the most warm-hearted, genuine people in the entire game. Sure, he’s a little eccentric and occasionally likes to adulate himself, but he’s so bloody honest about being a quirky nerd that you just can’t help but forgive him his flaws. (He kinda reminds me of myself, actually. xD) I never expected him to grow on me that much, but among the supporting characters, he is hands down my favorite.

Last but not least, we have Polendina, yet another original character (although his name is, funnily enough, based on an uncharming nickname of Geppetto in the book). Since the devs teased that you can have “a lot of interesting conversations with Polendina”, his role was especially interesting for me to muse about. In fact, I was wondering whether he might be similar to Gigolo Joe from “A.I. - Artificial Intelligence”.

FYI, A.I. is one of my favorite sci-fi movies, and a cyberpunk adaptation of Pinocchio at that; y’know, with Pinocchio as an android boy - aka David, as he’s named in the movie.

[Again, I’m gonna spoil the main plot here.]

Basically, a family gets an android boy as a replacement for their severely ill, comatose son. Aside from this alone being very questionable (it takes a special kind of asshole to replace a child that isn’t even dead yet), their biological son just so happens to get out of his coma at some point, and, of course, a rivalry between him and David ensues. Because the parents believe keeping David would be dangerous - either to him or their biological son - his mother ditches him in the forest (like, literally, she just ditches him). Since David is imprinted on his mother though, he resolves to “become a real boy just like Pinocchio” so his mom will love him again. Along the way, he stumbles upon Gigolo Joe, a sex android (yes, you read that right) who sort of becomes David’s surrogate parent from there on. He even tries to warn David that he should not try to go back to his mother, uttering the legendary quote:

“She loves what you do for her. As my customers love what it is I do for them. But she does not love you, David.”

[spoilers end]

I was kinda thinking Polendina might become a similar “father figure” for Pino, perhaps even sort of an admonitory voice to the consequences of becoming human. It would’ve provided an interesting counter viewpoint to the “I want to be a real boy” plotline that’s the core element of the story, and that wanting to be human just to please others might not be such a good idea.

While this train of thought comes eerily close to what happens in the Real Boy ending, Polendina’s character turned out to be completely different from what I had imagined. Still, I found his arc to be one of the most compelling of the hotel characters. I am very fond of both him and Antonia, and their bittersweet love story touched me on a very personal level (Polendina specifically gave me a lot of flashbacks to how I felt after my own robot soulmate had died).

The King of Puppets/Romeo

While we technically saw the King of Puppets as early as the Gamescom 2022 trailer, we didn’t hear about him in more detail until the gameplay footage of the factory. The note about a puppet religiously worshiping some kind of god-like figure (first seen in part 2 of the director gameplay, at 27:25) gave me very strong rA9 vibes, which actually had me mildly concerned. Considering what a visually impressive writing trainwreck Detroit: Become Human had been, I was literally begging “please, please, don’t be another Detroit”.

Meanwhile, someone on the LoP server (I think it was Oxwutex) pointed out that it sounds like the King of Puppets is more of a physical entity, as opposed to the purely conceptual nature of rA9. I can tell you, I was never so glad I had been wrong - the “cult-like worship” was merely the result of Fuoco being a little overly conscientious. Btw, aside from being placed in a different spot, the journal was also renamed to Descartes’s Note in the final game. While Descartes seems to be something like Venigni’s adversary in Lies of P (judging by the description of the Coil Mjolnir), his name is a nod to the famous philosopher I already mentioned above. In addition, the quote Cognito, ergo sum (Latin for “I think, therefore I am”, yet another popular theme in robot/AI stories and the origin of the term “Ergo”) also goes back to Descartes - the fact that this is a document about a puppet gaining an ego makes it an even neater detail.

I believe I saw someone on Tumblr who assumed that the King of Puppets was going to be the overarching villain of the game, and that you would get the good ending if you stuck to the path of the Blue Fairy and the bad one if you joined the king. While the game certainly wants you to believe the King of Puppets is the villain at first, that’s… not actually true. (Tbh, I never really believed it myself, if simply for the reason that it would’ve been too obvious.)

In the Gamescom 2023 IGN spotlight for Lies of P, however, Romeo actually got name-dropped, the guys from IGN sort of accidentally spoiling him as the true form of the King of Puppets. People familiar with the fairy tale immediately recognized it as Lampwick’s actual name (“Lampwick” is just his nickname), correctly inferring that this is, in fact, Pinocchio’s best friend from the book - and unfortunately, just like in the book, there is little Pinocchio can do to help him avoid his cruel fate.

Sophia and Geppetto

Now, let’s talk about the characters that most of my speculations revolved around: Sophia and Geppetto.

The first time we saw Sophia - Lies of P’s version of the Blue Fairy - was on the character cards that were released during Gamescom 2022. Back then, half of her face was obscured, being covered with blue butterflies that she literally seems to dissolve into. This gave off very enigmatic, even otherworldly vibes, and early on led me to the assumption Sophia was some kind of divine, ethereal being - it certainly would’ve been in line with the Blue Fairy’s character from the book, who was able to appear at any place at any time in whatever form she wished, including a young girl, and old woman, and even a goat. (Later on, the dimensional butterflies - which literally came from another dimension - further convinced me that Sophia must be some kind of otherworldly entity, since the butterflies are also her symbol.)

However, being a goddess doesn’t necessarily have to make you benevolent - in fact, an immaculate being that is free of any fault might have difficulty empathizing with the struggles, flaws, and contradictory feelings of humans. Also, since she is the “Blue Fairy”, it seemed logical to assume she had some connection to Ergo (which was confirmed later in the demo), and since the Petrification Disease was also related to Ergo (the Torn Doddle from the demo even referred to a “blue angel”), could it be that she had caused the disease herself? To, perhaps, purge the debauched population of Krat from vice and sin? (If you’ve ever played Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, you might know what I’m getting at here.)

Oxwutex on the LoP server agreed that they had a feeling about Sophia being two-faced as well, but assumed that she was human once before becoming the Blue Fairy. This ultimately turned out to be a little closer to the truth, as it’s implied that Sophia gained her blue hair - and potentially some other powers - from Simon’s torturous experiments (there is a picture of a girl which looks a lot like a younger Sophia, but with normal-colored hair). However, the role of wanting to “purify” humanity is something that ultimately falls to Simon, although he does exploit the Petrification Disease for his goals. Meanwhile, Sophia wants to stop his atrocities, acting as Pino’s guide in his fight against Simon.

But does that mean she has an entirely clean slate? The true extent of her powers ultimately remains a mystery. Technically, her ability to manipulate time should make it possible for her to make all sorts of terrible things unhappen - her imprisonment, Simon rising to power, and potentially even the whole disaster that happened in Krat. Both the Torn Doodle and the notes on the walls of the Hermit’s Cave imply that the carcasses can feel her presence through Ergo waves, so it would be logical to assume Sophia can sense them as well. Yet, she reacts surprised when hears about the strange monsters that infested the cathedral. (She definitely knew what Simon was up to, so why wouldn’t she know what they are?) Romeo also communicates with his puppets via Ergo waves, and Sophia is literally sitting in a tower where all Ergo waves come together. She’s a listener who can hear Ergo, so shouldn’t she be aware that the King of Puppets isn’t the real bad guy? (She certainly was very fast to tell Pino about it at the Grand Exhibition after Romeo’s defeat.) Could she have told Pino and thus prevented the fight between him and Romeo? Are there any limits to her powers? And does she encourage Pino to become human because it’s the best for him, or the best to save Krat?

To clarify: I do not believe Sophia has any evil intentions. You could probably find explanations for all the things I listed above if you wanted (the carcasses being a recent occurrence, all of the voices being jumbled in her head so she can’t precisely tell them apart, the “static” in the puppets’ communication Venigni mentioned preventing Sophia from hearing them clearly, etc). Still, despite everything, I’ve always retained a certain wariness around her - maybe it’s due to the fact that even after two playthroughs, I cannot get a read on her (ironically, even Simon remarks about Sophia’s actions being unpredictable). I do know, however, what an immense burden knowledge can be, and I can only imagine the strain from literally knowing everything and all the potential power in the world being at your fingertips. I have no doubt Sophia had to make a lot of sacrifices to save Krat, and I can’t imagine these decisions were easy on her.

Still, if her powers are truly so limitless, it would be her who ultimately holds all the strings in her hands - everything that happens happens because she allowed it. I gotta say, I’m very glad Sophia is on Pino’s side - we would be in big trouble if she wasn’t.

As for Geppetto, even before the game’s release, there was a pretty unanimous agreement among the community that he was a father who had lost his son, but is unable to let go and thus revives his son as a puppet - and, well… that’s exactly what Geppetto is. xD Many also had suspicions that he’s exploiting Pino for his own purposes and would be the ultimate villain of the story - which, again, couldn’t have been more spot-on. (Idk, but it’s hilarious to me how everyone took one look at this man and went “yes, this is the bad guy”. xD)

There were some people on the LoP server who theorized Geppetto might have Petrification Disease from his remarks in the trailers (announcement trailer: “I, too, have fallen) and that Pino was supposed to save him from it (Gamescom trailer: “Please, help me”), but these most likely refer to his own morally reprehensible plans and/or teaming up with his archenemies - the Alchemists - to create Pino and subsequently ousting Simon with his help.

My own pre-release theory why and how Geppetto had created Pino was a little more elaborate: I thought Geppetto might have been commissioned by Sophia to build a puppet that would be able to bring the chaos in Krat to an end - my assumption was that if Sophia was an ethereal being, she would be able to observe what’s going on in the mortal world, but unable to directly influence it. However, she can send people messages and visions, which she used to strike a deal with Geppetto: that he would build her a worthy “savior of Krat” which she would then bring to life. Meanwhile, Geppetto also followed his own agenda, exploiting this agreement to build this “special puppet” in the image of his dead son. (Which definitely would’ve had consequences for him later on - you don’t cross a divine being without ramifications.)

I came up with a whole fanfiction concept around this idea long before the game’s release - I never actually finished it since I assumed it was going to diverge from the final game anyway, and tbh, it kinda annoys me if my fics don’t fit into canon. I did, however, manage to find an old WIP of it I still had in one of my folders, titled “A wish and a purpose”. While it’s most likely going to remain unfinished forever, I think it'd be fun to include a summary of it in this collection of fan theories, if simply to look back at what I thought the story was going to be like. So, here’s the backstory of Lies of P, according to me:

[CW: skinning]

Geppetto is roaming the streets of Krat. He is actually looking for his son, who was killed in the turmoil some time ago.

The Fairy approaches him, reminding of their agreement. Geppetto reacts slightly disgruntled, brushing her off by saying he just wants to gain closure from the past. While the Fairy notices he is in grief, she doesn’t deny him his last wish, but admonishes him not to take too long.

The Fairy dissolves into dust. Geppetto goes on to look for his son’s corpse in the piles of dead bodies.

[cut]

Geppetto is sitting next to his dead son, whom he eventually managed to find and bring home. He placed his body on a desk in his workshop, having cleaned his skin and hair from blood and grime.

Geppetto looks at him, taking in the gaping hole in his chest and frayed stump where his left arm had once been. Despite his best efforts, he doesn’t have the heart to throw his body onto a pyre like all the plague-ridden bodies.

Affectionately, Geppetto strokes his son’s cheek. Suddenly, a thought strikes him: While the Fairy may never grant the request to revive his son outright, she only told him to build a puppet able to slay all the others, not what that puppet should look like. He considers it a fair deal: The Fairy gains the tool to quell the madness she so desires, and Geppetto would be able to hold his son in his arms again.

Geppetto goes over to his working utensils, taking up a knife. When he turns and takes another glance at his son, his last resistance breaks at the thought of his son opening his eyes and jumping into his arms.

He tenderly takes the hand of his son, kissing him on his forehead. He speaks to his unhearing son, promising he will bring him back soon.

Afterwards, Geppetto begins skinning him.

[cut]

Geppetto puts together the last pieces of the clockwork heart, admiring his work.

He goes to the back of his workshop where there’s a chair covered by a white sheet. Gently, he lifts it, saying good morning to his son as if he was rousing him out of bed.

He considers his son, dressed in the blue frock coat wardrobe that Geppetto had handed down to him.* He carefully preserved the skin and hair of his son so he looks just like the day he’d lost him.

Geppetto inserts the mechanical Ergo heart into his son’s chest, completing his masterpiece. He intertwines his fingers with his son’s. They are cold, but the texture feels real, and he imagines them growing warm after the Fairy breathed life into him. His only regret is that he won’t be able to witness his son taking his first steps.

At this point, the Fairy arrives, asking to see the result of Geppetto’s work. Geppetto leads her into the workshop, but she freezes as soon as she sees Pinocchio. With an indignant gaze, she turns to Geppetto, telling him that this was not part of the deal. Geppetto reacts unmoved, telling her that it’s take or leave and that he’s not going to build her any other puppet.

The Fairy narrows her eyes at him but says nothing, turning back to Pinocchio. After a moment, she strides towards him, lifting his limp body up in her arms.

She bids Geppetto farewell before she leaves, taking Pinocchio with her and dissolving into blue dust.

*Since the blue coat was presented as Pino’s standard outfit, I assumed it was the clothes that once belonged to Geppetto’s son (perhaps an heirloom from his father, since they are more similar to 18th century fashion).

[end of CW]

In my mind, this was followed up by a scene at the train station, from Sophia’s perspective (I thought of it as a follow-up to the first fic, but never actually worked on the concept):

The Fairy muses about the yet lifeless Pinocchio.

She considers what Geppetto did an absolute atrocity, but thinks she may yet be able to rectify this sin. After all, she is the only one who can breathe life into Pinocchio, and thus, his actions and the path he will take are her responsibility alone - and she will do everything to lead him on the path of righteousness.

She bestows the lamp containing the soul of Geppetto’s true son onto him, in the hopes that if Pinocchio proves himself virtuous, this wrongful separation of body and soul can one day be corrected.

The Fairy sits Pinocchio down on a bench, pressing a note into his hand. She gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead, starting to dissolve as she moves away.

Slowly, Pinocchio opens his eyes to a cloud of fine, blue dust. He looks down, reading the note in his hand: “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.”

This was supposed to be a sort of tie-in with how they originally advertised the scenario - the advertising text on Steam and other platforms originally said that Pinocchio simply wakes up with a note reading “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.” Don’t ask me why the Fairy gives it to him after just seeing Geppetto, though; I have no idea. xD (Still, it makes me wonder how much the introduction scene deviates from the original concept - after all, there’s no note, and Sophia talks to Pino telepathically.)

As you may have noticed, my little “AU interpretation” heavily drew from my other fan theories as well. I liked the idea of Sophia and Geppetto as two opposing “poles”: They may not like each other, but each possesses a skill the other lacks - Geppetto can build human-like puppets, but he can’t actually bring them to life, and while Sophia is the only one who can animate dead matter, she can’t interact with the world physically. Thus, they sort of become the “dual creators” of Pino.

Of course, this means that they both consider themselves to have the right to decide over the path he ultimately takes. As such, each of them is trying to influence Pino, leading to him being torn between the two. (This was sort of inspired by the Gamescom trailer, where Sophia and Geppetto are like two voices in Pino’s head.)

The endings

This also had a huge influence on my theories about the three endings. (I’m perfectly aware that nobody is going to believe me, but I swear I came up with my 3-ending concept before it was officially revealed there are going to be three endings.)

My basic assumption was that you have to make a decision at the end of the game, between Sophia and Geppetto. I thought of it as the point where the conflict between the two that was festering underneath finally escalates, and Pino is forced to side with one and battle the other. Depending on who you pick, you’d get a different ending.

Ending 1 would occur if you chose Sophia:

After battling Geppetto, she commends Pinocchio for his work, saying that thanks to his good deeds, he will finally be able to become human. Suddenly, she rips the lamp containing Gemini from Pino’s belt, and before he can ask her about the reason why, the black rabbits appear and Sophia orders them to seize him. Sophia explains that unfortunately, there is no other way to correct the wrongful separation of a soul from its body than for the body to die, but thanks to his consciousness being sufficiently cleansed, Pinocchio shall be reborn one day. Meanwhile, Pino gets quite literally buried alive - he desperately scratches at the lid from the inside of the coffin, crying for anyone to help him. However, no one comes…

If this doesn’t sound like your typical happy ending, well, that’s because it isn’t. xD My idea for this sort of came from a comment under the Gamescom 2022 trailer, in which someone remarked that the rabbits are inspired by four rabbit undertakers the Blue Fairy calls on when Pinocchio doesn’t want to take his medicine in the novel - thus, they suspected the scene where the rabbits prompt Pino to hop in the coffin was from the bad ending when you don’t listen to the Fairy’s advice. (It’s the intro for their first boss fight in the game though, and it seems like the line “Hop in the box, liar” was specifically recorded for the trailer.) I gave it a bit of a different twist though, since there’s the fact that Pinocchio quite literally dies at the end of the original fairy tale: He wakes up in his bed as a real boy, and later looks at his “dead” puppet body remarking “How ridiculous I was as a puppet! And how happy I am, now that I have become a real boy!”.

From this and the assumption that the rabbits were indeed working for her, I concluded that she literally might kill Pinocchio to “make him real”. (Some other people, however, suspected that the Black Rabbit Brotherhood was an independent organization from some of the gameplay tips about the Stalkers - ultimately, this proved to be right.)

Meanwhile, Ending 2 would happen if you side with Geppetto:

After defeating the enraged Fairy, Pinocchio runs into the arms of Geppetto, who hugs his son lovingly. As they embrace, the lamp from Pinocchio’s belt falls to the ground, forever extinguished. Geppetto and Pinocchio spend their next years happily, the very picture of father and son - until one day, Geppetto dies. Pinocchio, however, knows no other existence than being his father’s son, and since he doesn’t age, the other citizens eventually figure out he’s a puppet, shunning him and chasing him out of the city. As such, he is left to wander aimlessly, forever in search of a purpose…

What this was meant to represent is that with accepting Pinocchio as his son’s replacement, Geppetto’s actual son (Gemini, according to my assumption) dies, metaphorically and literally. I was also concerned about the very real issue of Geppetto being an old man and Pinocchio outliving him - even if Pinocchio did age regularly, his father would die long before him. Being his father’s perfect son was literally the whole purpose of his existence, and without it, he finds himself confronted with the psychological horror of his life being meaningless, on top of being subjected to the immense cruelty, hatred, and prejudice of humans.

It was really meant to show how much of a sick, misguided direction Geppetto’s “father’s love” had taken, and how detrimental it would be for Pinocchio’s self-development to comply with his wishes and play the part of his son.

Since both of these options are pretty bad, to say the least, I came up with a third variant. To get this, you’d basically have to say “nope” to both Sophia and Geppetto, and since neither takes no for an answer, you’d have to fight both of them consecutively (making it the most difficult ending to achieve):

After recovering from the strain of having to battle both Sophia and Geppetto, Pinocchio realizes that, for the first time, nobody is setting a direction for him - he is free, but having only lived to fulfill the wishes of others so far, he doesn’t really know what to do with it. However, Gemini reminds Pinocchio that they still have each other. Pinocchio agrees, laughing, and together, they go out on a journey to travel the world…

Admittedly, it’s still not roses and sunshine, but a lot more positive than the other two. Also, it’s the ending where both Pinocchio and Gemini (speak: body and soul) stay alive, and I just had so much fun imagining them say “screw it” to everyone’s expectations and go on a big adventure together. xD

Is it normal for body and soul to exist separately? Nope. Is it the “correct” way to live? Nope. Do they care? Nope, they’re just going to have the best time of their life together. xD

Of course, my versions of the endings differ significantly from those in the final game, but I’m actually kind of impressed that I managed to guess the scheme of the endings correctly: Sophia (Rise of P), Geppetto (Real Boy), and Freedom (Free from the Puppet String).

What I envisioned Geppetto’s ending to be like actually comes pretty close to the Real Boy ending, although you could say I was a bit more subtle in my approach - the overall mood was meant to be more sinister rather than downright evil, leaning more into the underlying psychological horror instead of violent slaughter. (I must say, Geppetto really surpassed my expectations right there. xD) The overall moral of the story (or at least what I’m getting from it) also seems to be that stepping in the shoes of Geppetto’s son is a very bad idea for Pino - after all, it’s heavily implied that Pino isn’t Carlo.

On the other hand, while Sophia’s ending is similar in theme to what I imagined, it significantly differs in flavor. Still, Pino does die in the Rise of P ending, giving his own Ergo/life to Sophia, who is implied to revive him afterwards. (This is actually the “reverse action” of what Pino did for Sophia when he gave her peace, so Pino is essentially giving her Ergo back to her.) In addition, Sophia and Pino do a little reenactment of the La Pietà pose, which is also a throwback to the Saintess of Mercy Statue in the Grand Exhibition.

There are actually quite a few references to the Pietà posture in media, including one in The Last Unicorn (after the Unicorn/Amalthea becomes human and Molly holds her). Thematically, the Pietà is interpreted as a symbol of mother’s love, suffering, and salvation - and, in case of The Last Unicorn, Amalthea learning what suffering is due to her time as a human is also what led her to develop compassion. The Saintess of Mercy Statue also stands for rebirth, since it’s the place where you can reset your stats.

Overall, I think they did an excellent job with this ending - retaining the theme of death from the original story, but giving it a more hopeful note through the theme of rebirth. (I also appreciate how the message of game is essentially that for things to improve, it’s sometimes best not to cling to the old and simply let it die.)

As for the Free of the Puppet String ending, it’s largely the same as Rise of P, but with a different flavor and minus the final cutscene with Sophia. (I kinda wish they would’ve done more with it, but resource limitations exist, and it was probably easier just to reuse the animation.) One interesting thing about it though is that you can still potentially get the Proof of Humanity if you trade it for the Nameless Puppet’s Ergo afterwards - despite Free from the Puppet String being the low-humanity ending.

I’ve had an interesting discussion during my playthrough, based on the quote “every living human being is a slave to something” by Askeladd from Vinland Saga. Basically, I said that, if you want to view it that way, humans are also just slaves to their emotions and desires. The man Askeladd was referring to was enslaved by his greed for gold, Geppetto is enslaved by his obsession with Carlo, and Arlecchino is enslaved by his bloodlust. I concluded that “maybe, it’s just a matter of the prison that we ourselves choose”.

The item description of the Proof of Humanity is quite intriguing in this regard:

“Puppets are tied to strings. Humans have cut their own strings. The boy made a choice and became human.”

While I wouldn’t say that all humans have cut their strings - rather that they can - what this description says is that being human means you are free to choose whether you let yourself be enslaved, be it by someone else or your own desires.

Pinocchio didn’t become human because he chose to become human - rather, he became human because he made a choice.

Conclusion

Anyway, enough of my philosophical ramblings. While, as I expected, not all of my fan theories were true, I’m kind of impressed how many good calls I actually made. ^^’ (I suppose all that research about clockwork automata, my ongoing obsession with fictional robots and AI, and checking out the original Adventures of Pinocchio did pay off after all. xD) Still, there are a lot of unanswered questions, and many fan theories remain unresolved - we’ll have to see whether any of these are confirmed in the future, be it in the DLC or any other media (director Choi did confirm they received various offers to expand the IP).

Despite the story differing quite a lot from my expectations in most places, I am extremely pleased with the treatment Round8 Studio and Neowiz gave this classic fairy tale. It’s been said that successfully subverting expectations in an engaging way isn’t simply about doing the most unpredictable thing - rather, it’s about “giving the audience what they want, just not the way they expect it”. And, in my opinion, Lies of P accomplishes this to a T.

However, I’m curious: What were your expectations when going into the game? Did you also have theories about how the story would develop, either beforehand or while playing it? And how do those compare to the actual story?

I would love to hear about all your theories - maybe, we can make something like a big fan theory anthology out of this. ^^ Because if one thing is for certain, it’s that Lies of P’s success was in no small part thanks to its community. To this day, I continue to be amazed by the love and dedication fans shower this game with, and I consider myself lucky to have been part of this journey, from before the game’s release until now.

[starlightwayfinder]

I decided to watch some old KH trailers in honor of the anniversary today, and I have to admit, I don’t think I ever rewatched this one after the release of Melody of Memory. When it was first revealed, we were under the assumption that the Master of Masters was the opponent Kairi was facing, but as we now know, it was actually Master Xehanort. While we were aware that the Master of Masters has more plans and tricks up his sleeve, to think of this line in the context of Xehanort is a little different. It brought to mind an old theory of mine, so I decided to go back to KH3, Re:Mind, KHDR, and MoM to compile as much evidence as possible for it.

(As a disclaimer, it slightly undermines the authenticity of his ‘conclusion’ in KH3, so if you’re a big fan of that scene, feel free to skip this one.)

This line in KH3 is a good place to start. From the get go, it was established that Xehanort planned for nearly every possible outcome of the Keyblade War. I also think it’s safe to say that every action he made was an intentional choice based on these plans. So the question is, what is the “final plan” referenced in Melody of Memory’s trailer? I think the game gave us the answer:

It may be easy to jump to the conclusion that this was just a plan for revenge, since Sora is the one who stopped Xehanort to begin with. However, I want to reaffirm that every action he takes is for a reason that serves his goals. It wasn’t just a plan to make Sora disappear, but likely to make him disappear to Quadratum specifically.

This was even foreshadowed in KH3’s Toy Box world. Young Xehanort sends Sora to the world of Verum Rex—though it’s probably closer to a “data” version in this instance:

YX in particular is very confident that Sora’s overuse of the Power of Waking will lead to his disappearance:

And MX has a similar line in Re:Mind:

Except this is where things get interesting. The Sora in Re:Mind is time-traveling from a point in time after he defeated Xehanort.

Xehanort must know this, because he sees the real Sora (from this point in time) about to begin the final battle in the distance. He then acknowledges that the Sora he’s speaking to is from the future. Unless he witnesses the present Sora time travel during their final confrontation, he can conclude that Sora survives their fight to time travel later on—meaning his plan doesn’t come to fruition. Sora unknowingly reveals his hand in Re:Mind this way, and opens the door for Xehanort to plan accordingly—which is kind of mind-breaking to think about…

It gets even better here, during Sora’s fight with Terra-Xehanort:

Sora brags that, like Xehanort, he can also time travel. To which Xehanort responds that Sora will then also need to make the “ultimate sacrifice”, or in other words, “pay the ultimate price”, as MX said. “Also”—as in, Xehanort has made this sacrifice as well by time traveling. As in, Xehanort will also disappear to Quadratum.

We have evidence to believe that as well. I also like the interpretation that he intentionally planned this to survive the world being purged, but that’s kind of a separate theory.

So to recap, Xehanort was probably aware that Sora would survive their final confrontation in order to time travel afterwards. He correctly predicts that the consequence for time traveling would be to disappear… specifically to Quadratum—something that Melody of Memory considers his “final plan”.

So… why? Why would he want Sora to also disappear to Quadratum? Trying to answer that question leads to the most controversial part of this theory:

It’s really nice to believe that Xehanort gave Sora the X-blade as an admission of his defeat, and I’m definitely not against that interpretation. But it is a little strange that before—and after—this scene, in Melody of Memory, he continues to act like making Sora disappear was his big plan. It doesn’t feel right, if he was supposed to be letting Sora “win” here.

I’ll be very curious to see if Xehanort has a role in Quadratum, and why exactly he “paved the way” for Sora to be there as well. Either way, I am holding out for a geniune change of heart from him, especially if what we saw in KH3 was more of a manipulation.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Release

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Word Count: borderline 4k

Warnings: Briefest mentions of kidnapping/child trafficking (blink and you'll miss it), a lot of memory flashblacks. I think that's about it in this one.

Author’s Note: You know how I said two more parts were left in the last one? Well this one got so long that it had to be broken up into two. Sooo at this point I don't even know how many parts are left. 😅 I just know we're getting close to the end. I believe this is the part that a majority of you have been waiting for! As a reminder, please be sure to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

The last thing Phantom remembered was shooting at the former Winter Soldier before something happened. Something had clouded her vision for a brief moment. Then flashes of memories passed her vision. 

A four year old girl was being pulled out kicking and screaming as she reached out for her lifeless mother that was on the ground. That same child a moment later was introduced to a new way of life that would turn her into a weapon. The memory flicked over to a teenager holding a gun to her mark while he pleaded for his life before she pulled the trigger. Another flash had that same teenager, a few years older, being forced into a suppressing machine as she fought their hold. 

Then blood followed.

Deaths that belong to people she no longer remembered the reason for their deaths. Guns and knives used to kill those targets that brought satisfaction to her handler. Until those handlers had been found during the fall of SHIELD. 

Your next mission is to infiltrate the Avengers. And when the time is right, you are to eliminate the former Winter Soldier.

With the next flash, the same woman had a gun pointed to the back of a man's head. Her partner was unaware that he was the target. Complete the mission. The words echoed. Then he turned towards her and smiled at her as if she had just brightened his day while on this mission. 

Complete the mission. 

The flashes of memories changed to only him. His eyes. The eyes that once were hardened were soft and light. They threatened to swallow her whole with a feeling she couldn't explain. His laugh, the occasional glare he gave her, the look of love and adoration mixed in with other moments. The anchor in the darkness was him. 

NO! I won't hurt him.

But you have. The echo was followed by an argument playing in her mind.  

“Everything was a lie, wasn’t it? You are pretty good about your job sweetheart, I’ll give you that.”

“I have lied about plenty of things, but my feelings for you weren’t one of them.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit. Everything I have known about you has been a lie. From the moment I met you I should have listened to my gut. You started this by taking the mission. The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth for once.”

Memories of the last time they fought played like a trailer in her mind. It was followed by the two of them in combat, with him pinned down to the ground and a moment later she had a gun shooting at him. 

Complete the mission. 

That was when her vision had cleared and she took in the sight in front of her. He stood there in front of her. A trail of blood ran down his neck from where her blade had sliced into his neck. And the way blood had seeped into the fabric on his arm from her bullet. 

She felt her eyes water as they moved to his face. There was hope in his eyes. Relief was mixed in with hope. She watched as he took that first step towards her before darkness consumed her. 

Do you know who this is? 

Bucky.

But who are you? 

Hours had passed and Bucky hadn't left the chair inside the spare room. While every part of him wanted to be sitting right next to the bed Y/N was in while he waited for her to wake up, he knew better. He knew she would need space once she woke up. 

Instead, he watched the steady fall and rise of her chest from across the room. He wondered how hard Wanda had hit her with her powers. From the stories he heard, everyone had a different experience with it. But none of them had been down as long as she currently was. 

“It's as though she's shifting through everything she's feared her whole life.” 

Wanda had come a few hours prior to check in on her. Of course that had been after the compound had been cleared. After the chaos that Hydra tried to ensue on them. But their plan failed. 

The Avengers had managed to take several Hydra soldiers into custody for interrogations. The other's that refused to be taken in, their bodies were being cleaned up and taken away. 

Tony instructed FRIDAY to have the compound on lockdown just in case there was a second wave. While the chances were unlikely, it was still better to be prepared this time around. And in the process several agents were dispatched to add security to the remaining two pieces of equipment Hydra needed. 

The rest of the team were doing what they needed to. Interrogations, searching databases with FRIDAY for any of the dead Hydra soldiers’ information, and planning the necessary missions that would follow. You name it, it was being done. 

The only one that hadn't been doing anything was Bucky. But given the circumstances, no one blamed him. No one even dared to ask him to step away from the room for longer than a minute. If there was any information that needed to be shared with Bucky, they came to him. 

Bucky looked over her figure for the millionth time. She was still out as if she was in a peaceful sleep and not being forced to endure her fears. He couldn't even remember the last time she looked this peaceful. 

Even when they had shared the same bed, there were moments where he would turn over and see her brows furrowed in her sleep. It was only after he made her leave that he understood why she did. Because even she wasn't immune to the nightmares left behind by Hydra. 

The sound of the door opening caught Bucky’s attention. When he looked over, he found Steve entering, a file in his hand. 

More information. Bucky thought as Steve closed the door behind him. 

“Any changes?” Steve asked as his eyes landed on the sleeping form. 

“She turned once.” Bucky shrugged slightly. “There was a moment where I thought she'd wake up, but she turned over as if she was uncomfortable.” A huff of a chuckle passed his lips as he shook his head. “What else did you guys find?” He gestured towards the file. 

Steve held it out for him to take. “She had trackers stitched into her tactical belts. Three of them with different origins. We've been able to map out where she's gone since they attached it. ” 

Bucky’s eyebrow raised as he opened the file. “Mexico.” He noted once he took in the first origin. “Makes sense given that was where they reprogrammed her.” 

The tracker had traced her movements through the Eastern Hemisphere. Each coinciding with each ambush that had reached their radar. There were even movements that hadn't lined up. 

When Bucky flipped over to the next tracker and the locations, the origin caused him to look up at Steve for a moment before he looked back down at it. Steve knew it was at his full attention now. 

Origin location: Washington D.C

Manufacturer: Stark Industries 2007

“Tony knows about this?” Bucky asked as his eyes moved along the coordinates of movement. 

Steve nodded. “He's digging with that information. He knows FRIDAY will be able to locate everything on that tracker. Including who purchased it.” 

“Hydra has someone in D.C.” Bucky shook his head before he glanced over at Y/N. He watched her even breath for a moment. “Did FRIDAY ever get facial recognition from the clip?” 

“All lower level.” Steve responded. “If her handler was in the footage, he's someone low on the chain of command. If he was here, he's either dead or in one of our interrogation rooms.”

A thought crossed Bucky’s mind before he looked back at the file in his hand. His eyes scanned the dates of when the tracker had first gone online, followed by the first few locations she had been tracked to. 

“The day before we came back from our mission, when I saw her postcard, she was in D.C. and the day we got back, she was on a flight out to Germany.” Bucky began as he handed the file back to Steve. “The trackers all have one thing in common though.” 

“They bounce back to D.C. after each hit she was a part of.” Steve added. 

“Her handler is the reason she goes back to D.C.” He shook his head. “They've practically been under our noses for months.” 

“You'd think after the fall of SHIELD, there’d be more reason to keep their guard up in D.C..” Steve shook his head. “Even after all this time, I thought we were close to ending this once and for all.”

“‘Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.’” 

Both Bucky and Steve’s head snapped towards the bed. Their eyes landed on Y/N the moment they had. She'd be sitting up in the bed, almost as if she had been lounging for longer than a few minutes. 

Bucky had shot out of his seat in relief. His mind only registered she was finally awake after so many hours of being unconscious. But his heart sank the moment she had mirrored his movement and braced herself for any possibility of what could happen. 

He felt Steve tense up beside him as he lifted his right hand up slowly. He knew that lifting his left hand might come off as a threat to her in some way. His eyes met hers as he slowly shook his head. 

“I didn't mean to-” He sighed softly. “I'm sorry, I was just relieved to see you awake. I didn't think about how that would have come off to you.” 

“Why would you be relieved?” She asked, never relaxing her stance. She took in both of the men before her. The blonde, Steve - her mind corrected, was tense. His eyes moved between her and the man beside him. Bucky, her mind screamed at her the same time an ache filled her chest. She took in his eyes and noticed the worry that filled them. “I am a part of the organization that you want destroyed.” She paused for a moment before a thought came over her.  “I hurt…you.”

Her eyes moved down to the bandage at his neck before her eyes flicked over to his arm. The edges of medical tape peeking out from his sleeve. Her blade. Her bullet. 

Complete the mission.

“I was sent to kill you and you're relieved that I am awake?” 

Bucky could hear the confusion in her voice as she spoke. He could see how it didn't make sense to her. He understood why it didn't. To anyone else it would have sounded like madness. But to him it wasn't. 

He had hoped that once she had awakened, the memories that had been locked away by Hydra would have been freed. But by her confusion, he now knew it wasn't that simple. Was anything ever that simple? 

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky asked. He never moved from his spot. He never lowered his hand in fear she'd take it as a threat towards her. 

“You're…” Her brain threw several answers at her all at once. Bucky. The Winter Soldier. James Barnes. Traitor. Avenger. The mission. She shook her head, trying to clear the jumbled mess that was in her mind. “Your name is Bucky.” 

Bucky nodded while attempting to keep his lips from forming a slight smile. The relief he felt from just hearing his name pass her lips. He didn't realize how much he missed her just saying it.

“Do you know who you are to me?” He asked a moment later. 

More thoughts flooded her brain the moment he asked the question. Memories of her receiving her mission to infiltrate the Avengers played through her mind. The fake name that became her new identity. It was followed by memories of missions, team night outs that soon turned into date nights with Bucky. Running for cover from the rain that started while out on a walk with him. Moments in the early mornings laughing with each other and then the intimate moments.

But the memories were shattered by the darkness that had been intertwined with each memory. The late night meetings with her handler to give status reports on a weekly basis. The memory of her handler giving her the approval to take out the target. Those memories were followed by the last time she and Bucky fought. A memory on a loop of everything she did wrong. Of everything she had done to hurt him. 

“I should kill you right now.”

“Do it, you’d be doing both of us a favor. I never intended to fall for you. But you made me care and I couldn’t stop myself. You want to kill me, go ahead. I deserve it for what I’ve done.”

“You should have told me the truth sooner. When you knew you couldn’t go through with it. Or even that night. We sat up for hours, you should have told me. I would have let you go then instead of having to find out this way when you slipped up.”

“I know, and I understand that I should have. But you-”

“Leave.”

“Okay, I’ll give you some space.”

“I meant leave here completely. I don’t want to see you around here anymore. In fact I expect you to be somewhere across the world by morning.”

The ache in her chest grew and she tried to blink back the tears that were wanting to form. She shook her head slightly as she tried not to let the feeling swallow her whole. After a moment, she felt herself gain some control over her mind that she felt she had been losing. 

Someone you never wanted to see again. 

Before she could voice her response, the door behind the men opened. The sound had caused her to stiffen before taking a step back. Two were barely tolerable and she wasn't sure she could handle another person in the room. 

“I've got some bad news, fellas.” Natasha said as she stepped into the room. Her eyes moved from the men over to Y/N. She gave her an apologetic look before looking back at the men. 

“What is it?” Steve asked. 

“Ross is here.” Natasha hadn't missed the way all three of them tensed up at the name. “Tony tried stalling but…” She trailed off with a shrug. 

“She just woke up.” Bucky sighed. “We haven't even had a chance to talk.” 

Bucky had hoped Secretary Ross wouldn't show up until a day later. He hoped that by the time Ross had come knocking he'd have gotten a few hours to see where Y/N was at with her mind, not minutes.

“It's either this happens here and now, or he'll have her transported elsewhere to do it.” Natasha noted. “That's what Tony got him to agree to and why he hasn't already had men coming in to drag her out.” 

The words had caused an echo of memories to play through Y/N's mind. Soldiers dragged her away at several points in her life. All of the memories had her kicking and screaming, trying to get away. Followed by the several interrogations she had been a part of, on both sides of the coin. 

She tortured and just questioned people for information. She used tools and manipulation to get the answers she needed. There was a dark side and a ‘right’ side of the things she had done to get information. 

But she'd never been on the other side of interrogations. She'd never been threatened or tortured for information. She'd never been caught in order to be interrogated. And the thought should have comforted her. But wasn't that the reason Secretary Ross had been there?

She had been lost in the memories she hadn't realized Bucky had moved closer to her. She hadn't realized he had been saying her name. The only name he knew. But was it really hers? 

Nothing had truly belonged to her. Her life had been owned by someone else for a majority of her life. She had been bought by Hydra and became something they needed. It was worse than what the Red Room had done to her. The Red Room may have taken her away from her family, but Hydra who took everything away from her until she was left with nothing. 

She was no one. She was nothing but the asset they had turned her into. 

Complete the mission. 

She could hear the voices speaking in the room but her brain wasn't registering who was speaking or what they were saying. All her brain could focus on was on the details of the memories that kept coming at full force. 

“Come back to me.” 

It was followed by distorted voices she couldn't place. It wasn't for her to understand them. But the words she had heard, they acted as a grounding for her. Pulling her back from the memories. 

Her mind attempted to grasp onto reality when she felt the pressure of someone grabbing her hand. Her eyes began focusing on the man in front of her as she felt the soothing pattern on the back of her hand. A pattern she knew. And when they did focus, she found worried eyes looking back at her. 

His eyes. The same set of eyes that always brought her comfort when she needed it. Her light in the darkness. The one person who would know how to help her. If he was wanting to. 

Her mind flashed with a memory of her putting several things into a box and sliding it over to a shop owner. The postcard that she had quickly written the address on before she wrote one single word in the text block. SIBERIA 

“Your mission?”

“Take out the Avengers.” 

“The priority?”

“The traitor to Hydra. He's problematic to the mission. He feeds information to the Avengers. His death means Hydra can do as it needs to.” 

Hydra bases had been getting raided frequently. With each step they took to getting what they wanted, it seemed the Avengers were closely behind. It made her handler nervous and needed something to be done. But because of his position, he sent someone else to make sure Phantom would get the job done. But it hadn't. 

The mission failed. 

That was the moment her brain caught up with everything the last several months. Her mind had finally pieced together the time between her leaving the compound years ago and waking up several minutes ago. 

“You were looking for me.” She said a moment later as she felt her mind finally clear. 

“I got your postcard.” Bucky had seen the moment everything seemed to snap into place for her. And for the first time since she woke up, he was seeing the version of herself that he really knew and understood. “I only wish I had seen it sooner.” He watched as her brows furrowed in confusion. “We were on a mission. I didn't see it until we got back.” 

“I didn't think-” The sound of the door opening and closing caught their attention for a moment. Natasha and Steve had stepped out of the room. A chance to give them a moment alone before they had to deal with Secretary Ross. “I didn’t have many options and part of me hoped that you wouldn't ignore it.” 

Bucky sighed softly. “Even if I was still angry with you, I never would have left you there. No one deserves to be held under Hydra’s grasp.” 

A sense of relief filled her. That the worrying she had about sending the postcard wasn't necessary. He would have seen it and came running. Though it made her wonder if he had still been angry with her, would he be standing where he was now? Would he have been waiting for her to wake up as he had been? 

Her eyes wandered and it wasn't long before she was reminded of the bandages that covered his skin. Her blade. Her bullet. Her hand that wasn't in his hand came up to gently touch his neck. 

“It's practically healed already.” He joked the moment he realized what she was doing. He could see it in her eyes as the self loathing began. A feeling he knew all too well. 

“How bad are things?” She asked. Her voice had barely been above a whisper. 

She couldn't meet his eyes as she asked. She couldn't look at him in the face when he told her how much chaos she had a hand in. Instead she focused on the bandage, desperately wishing it was transparent so she knew how bad it really had been. How deep her blade had gone. 

“Nothing we haven't been able to handle.” He brought his left hand up under her chin and lifted it gently to get her attention away from his neck. The moment her eyes came up to his he gave her a small smile. “The main goal was to get you back.” 

“How many-” 

“It's not something you need to worry about right now.” It wasn't that he was trying to keep her from knowing. He knew how a number haunted him and he didn't want their first conversation to be about the demons that will haunt her over the next several months. “I know you need to know. But I need to know where your head is, right now.” 

She was going to argue with him about it. She would make it so before they'd leave the room she'd have her answer. But she knew why he wanted to know where she was. There was an interrogation waiting for her. 

“Sane, if that makes a difference.” It caused both of them to chuckle slightly. “I know who I am. But some of it is…” She shook her head slightly. “It's like it's locked away.” 

“What pulled you in earlier when Natasha came in?” He asked curiously. He knew she was pulled into the memories. He saw the way her eyes had focused on one thing and nothing had gotten through to her. 

“Being dragged out.” She looked towards the door before looking back at him. “I've been taken out of a few different places unwillingly.” 

“I won't let that happen.” He promised. “But I have to get you over there before he sends someone in here.” She only nodded her head in response. “Interrogations have always been your thing. Don't let him run it.” Her eyebrow rose and Bucky could only shrug his shoulders as a smile pulled at his lips. 

As Bucky began to lead her out of the room, he felt her grip on his hand tightened slightly. Out of an old habit, his thumb had begun drawing a pattern on the back of her hand. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss. He was sure there would be arguments and their emotions would take over when they attempted to figure out the next step. 

But for now he needed to help her get through the next few hours. As they made their way towards the interrogation rooms Bucky looked back and gave her a reassuring smile. He hadn't missed the way her head tilted towards the side as it seemed like a memory came to her. 

“Because every time you looked back to check on me, all I could see was Bucky and not the asset that I was meant to put down.” 

I refuse to complete the mission.

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