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abbyslovergirlxo · 3 months ago

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-Bad Idea-

ELLIE WILLIAMS x FEM!READER

What happens when your drunk ex sends you flowers? Who knows. But regardless, anyone would agree it’s a pretty bad idea.

tw; moping, terrible drunk decisions, slight smut (if you squint), cursing

—————————————————————————

“shit shit shit— oh my fucking— shit!”

Ellie had tried to wipe her eyes in a desperate repetition. But when her bank statements kept reading;

TRANSACTIONS

3/7/2023 Saturday: — 62.75 FROM; Flowers and Friends

It was hard to not accept the facts. Ellie could typically hold her liquor, but as of late she wasn’t herself. You and Ellie had been broken up for two months and she had deluded herself into thinking it left her mind. But whenever a touch of liquor or weed hit her system, suddenly she was missing you so bad that she couldn’t help herself from getting out of hand. Case in point being, her spending over 60 dollars while trashed to send to your doorstep.

She called the company a multitude off times, always receiving the same frustrating answer.

“Sorry ma’am, cancellations are not prohibited after the 12 hour order mark.”

Ellie cursed herself for over sleeping with a pounding hangover. Maybe if she woke up a couple hours earlier she could’ve saved herself eternal embarrassment. At least that was until she remembered that the only way you’d know if it was her if there was a note. She was cross faded out of her mind, no way she wrote anything that wasn’t gibberish, if she wrote anything at all.

“Wait! Was there a note attached or anything?”

“One second ma’am— let me just look right here… right, okay. Yes there’s a note attached.”

Ellie cursed silently into the air. She took a deep breath and looked up to the sky in a phantom type of prayer.

“Could you tell me what it says?”

“Absolutely. It says ‘Miss you so much baby. I can’t stop thinking about you and your nose. Your nose is so fucking pretty. And your hair. And just you. You’re so pretty. Please talk to me. Please please just talk to me. These flowers reminded me of you. They’re so pretty. I miss being inside of you. I miss us so mu—‘. Um…yeah. That’s pretty much it. It seems like you ran out of room to type.”

She was going to die. She was truly going to die. Ellie was grateful with how calm the customer service worker was. This probably was no doubt her most indecent moment and she couldn’t handle it if the lady on the phone was laughing at her.

Ellie gripped her phone till her knuckles turned a hued white, she was so fucking angry at herself. She was the one who broke up with you and her she was, going crazy.

“Do you have an estimation of when the flowers will arrive?”

“…Says around 2 pm.”

She didn’t even bother with a thank you as she ended the phone call. It was 1:45. You lived 20 minutes away. It would be close but it’d be better than doing nothing.

She swiped her eyes off her nightstand and was in her car before she could even blink.

After an almost car accident, two people flipping her off, and cutting people off, Ellie had finally made it to your apartment. She stomped her way up the steps that led to the second floor. Her lungs were practically screaming at her but she was so close.

2:03 pm.

Her breath got caught as she saw that familiar door mat. She had wiped her black converses on it a million times, a sort of tradition wether or not her shoes needed it. Made her feel like she was at home, her way of marking her territory. That bright yellow doormat with the corny quote that Ellie had clowned you for too many times.

“ Bee My Guest! 🐝 “

She had gotten so lost at just the sight of your front door that she hadn’t noticed the bouquet of flowers next to it. Quite a large one as well. If she hadn’t been a nervous wreck, she would’ve admired her taste. The flowers were gorgeous and she wanted nothing more than to give them to you. But she knew it wouldn’t be right and it’d be wrong. It had been months, why do something like this now?

With a sudden slowness she walked over to your front door, picking up the flowers and frowning. She had wished this were under different circumstances. That this was her on a random weekday, turning up to see you. Surprising you with flowers and soft kiss.

But that wasn’t the case. And she had gotten carried away at the idea of you. With a shake of her head, she checked the time.

2:14

Eleven minutes of admiring you literal door. Yeah, it was time to go.

“Ellie?”

Her head whipped up that sound. That sound she had been yearning to hear for literal months. She had spent many night looking over videos of you, hearing the way you spoke. It never beat the real thing, clearly.

She didn’t move, just staring at you with your pink tote bag and white sundress. She didn’t miss the way your bra was doing wonders for your chest. Fuck, was she looking?

“Um…”

You raised your brow, observing the sight infront of you. Your ex-girlfriend with a black graphic tee, green boy shorts and her favorite converses. Her hair had gotten longer but nonetheless still pulled into that familiar bun. She looked…good. You could tell she was hungover, you had been with her for too long to not know. But still she looked good, she always did.

But seeing your ex at your front door wasn’t the strangest thing, it was her holding a bouquet of flowers. This wasn’t what you expected to come home to after buying a book from your local Barnes and Nobles.

You should be pissed, sad or annoyed. But you were none of those. You wanted to be. But you had missed her. All you could feel was that familiar need for her and a touch of confusion.

“Did someone die?”

“Yes.”

Not her best lie, and after seeing your look of concern she couldn’t handle it.

“Sorry, no. Nobody died. I just— I didn’t mean to come here.”

“Oh…okay. Be safe on the way back?”

You shuffled towards your front door, brushing past her. This was so awkward and you felt ridiculous for actually thinking she came here for you. It was obvious she did, who shows up at their exes apartment complex with flowers? But clearly she didn’t want you enough to admit it. And that hurt more than you wanted it to.

With a silent curse you finally managed to get your key out of your bag. You appreciated it for all the space but it felt like you were digging through a damn vast hole whenever you needed something.

Before you could even open your door, you felt a hand on your shoulder making you look back.

“I missed you. Well I mean that I— I miss you. Now. I’ve missed you for a while. I hope that’s okay. I wish…we were okay.”

She was nervous. You tell by the way she bit down on her lip and her thumb fiddled with her ring. You were too. And you looked down at her hand, feeling sheepish about how warm it was on your skin.

It took no time for her to notice before she yanked it back. You frowned a little.

“Ellie why’d you come here? And with… flowers?”

She sighed a little, contemplating wether or not to save her dignity and leave. Pretend she never proclaimed her persistence of missing you and block you, or she could just be a human and talk to you. She had showed up like this unannounced and the least you deserved was an explanation. She didn’t want you to always wonder what could’ve happened.

“Can I come in?”

……………………….……………………….………………

“Didn’t we talk about getting cross faded? Mixing drugs and alcohol is not good for you Ellie.”

“That’s what you got from all of that…”

“Well that, and the fact you only miss me when you’re not sober.”

“That’s not— I always miss you. I just don’t know how to control it when I’m not sober. Exactly why I ordered these flowers last night.”

You grinned a little, finding it all a little funny. When she first came into your apartment that reeked of brown sugar and vanilla, it was as awkward as one would expect.

But you and her had been together for 3 years before you broke up. As her story strung out and you gave a her a cup of peppermint tea, the tension slowly evaporated.

“Right…and you did all of this just to still get caught with the flowers. Honestly Els, it would’ve been less embarrassing if I had just seen them on my doorstep.”

Ellie shifted on your white couch at the sound of the nickname. She hadn’t heard it in forever and it made her want you even more. She wasn’t even sure where this conversation was headed but she knew she didn’t want it to end.

“The note though. Would’ve given me away in a heartbeat, and I’d probably never show my face again.”

She let out a laugh at the thought. You furrowed your brows and put down your minions mug to stare at her.

“What note?”

You caught she sudden panic in her face. Ellie had purposefully left out the embarrassing note she had left on the flowers and didn’t plan on saying anything about them. The flowers now sat on your glass coffee table right next to the pink coasters.

“Note? Shit I’m probably just mixing things up. This teas like really good, you got anymore?”

You looked at Ellies nervous smile and then at the flowers. She looked at you and then back the flowers. Then you both locked eyes again. Her eyes squinted into a silent plea of ‘don’t do it.’

As if she knew you’d still do it she reached towards the flowers at the same time you did but to her horror you plucked the note card before she could stop you. You ran towards your kitchen, getting behind the island while scrambling to rip the paper out of the envelope.

Ellie didn’t hesitate to run offer you but she couldn’t quite get you with you way you kept leaping around the kitchen island just far away enough so she could grab you.

“Okay okay y/n. Let’s just talk about this? The note is just gibberish. I was drunk out of my mind and it’s just random stuff jumbled on there. It’s just so stupid. Please just—“

She reached her arm out to grab you which you dodged and moved in the opposite direction against the marble island corner.

“Give it to me. Please.”

“You’re rambling, you’re nervous.”

“Okay Sherlock, just hand me the note.”

With a quick, “nope” , you looked at the flower embroidered card and began to read out-loud.

“Miss you so much baby. I can’t stop thinking about you and your nose— really Ellie? My nose?”

She groaned as you managed to dodge her again.

“To be fair, it’s a very nice nose.”

“Uh huh… ‘And your hair. And just you. You’re so pretty. Please talk to me. Please please just talk to me. These flowers reminded me—“

“Wait! If you put the card down I’ll give you a weeks worth of weed. You know I have the best dealer and I promise you if you just give me the card I’ll swing by later and give you some. Please y/n I am literally begg—“

“Hush. I already buy from your dealer, I stole their number from your phone after that one time you smoked me out in Jersey.”

“Wait what the fuck?”

“These flowers reminded me of you. They’re so pretty. I miss being inside of you. I miss us so much?”

Ellie’s head was thrown down in a storm of shame. This was much more embarrassing than hearing the lady on the phone say it. Not to mention the way you impersonated Ellie’s voice while you said it. She was feeling like a little bitch and she even felt slightly betrayed. When the fuck was Mick going to tell her that he was selling you weed? She made a mental note to murder him and another mental note to never see you again.

“Fuck this is so embarrassing.”

After your laughter died down, you looked over the words again. Letting it all sink in. It was funny, you couldn’t lie about that.

But it was also a bit sad. You missed moments like these, with you and Ellie joking around. You missed her making you laugh and grabbing your waist from behind while you cooking in that very kitchen. The way she used to beg you to make that peppermint tea whenever she got off of work.

And she did say she had missed you, but was that enough? What even was this? Were you guys going to become friends? Get some closure and never see each other again? Or was there something more? Was it going to be Ellie and Y/n again? Or was it just you hoping that it’d be more?

The questions racked your brain. And your mood dropped quicker than you’d liked. Ellie now looked up at you after noticing your laughter swelter.

“Shit babe are y—fuck sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just…I don’t know.”

“Ellie…what do you want out of this?”

“I—“

“You broke up with me. I thought that you didn’t want me anymore. Do you even want me anymore?”

“I want you so much I can’t even fathom it.”

“What do you want out of this?” You repeated your question.

“I don’t know… what do you want?”

“No, don’t do that. Don’t leave it up to me Ellie. That’s not fair.”

She shook her head as she moved near you, this time you didn’t move back. Allowing her to pull at your dress.

“I’m not trying to be unfair y/n. I just don’t want to say the wrong thing. I want whatever you want.”

“You broke up with me…”

“I know…I’m so sorry.”

You pushed her hand away from your dress gently. She was too close and it was making your mind jumbled.

“Look Ellie. I’ve missed you to. Too much. And I don’t want you to say something and not mean it. I don’t want you to feel cornered into caring about me.”

“I could never stop caring about you. I never stopped y/n.”

You stayed silent, getting suddenly scared at how real this all was. No matter which way this went it would be a drastic change. If she left and never saw you again you’d have to deal with a second heartbreak. If she wanted to be friends you knew you’d say yes and have to see her too much for your own comfort.

And if she wanted to get back together…well that was a monster all on its own.

“What do you want out of this Ellie?”

From your tone of voice, and it being the third time you said it, Ellie knew she had to give a definitive answer now. You deserved that. She didn’t deserve you, but she wanted to.

“I want you. I want us. I’ll be so good to you, I promise.”

You looked at her with pouty face. This was all you wanted to hear for the past couple of months and you finally got it. You didn’t want to get hurt again.

She met your eyes and tried to communicate with just those.

You remained silent. To which, she gripped the waist area of your dress fabric to bring you closer. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you into a hug making you sigh into her neck.

She rubbed palmed circles onto your back.

“You want us back together?”

You nodded into her cologned skin.

“Yeah?”

You whispered out a soft, “Yes Els. I want us.”

She grinned into your hair, this was the first time one of her bad ideas turned into something good. But as she smelled that familiar coconut shampoo in your hair, she knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was fucking amazing idea.

She kissed your forehead.

“I really meant it when I wrote that I miss being inside of you.”

You whined a little, “Show me, Els.”

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riddle-me-ri · 3 months ago

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Hi, I like your writing/work, and could I request that you write about How would the different Riddlers would react when their S/O gets kidnapped

a/n: sure thing anon! I already wrote a scenario for Telltale Riddler for my 500 follower event so I'll just drop a link to his headcanon for his part! Also sorry beforehand if certain Riddler’s aren't here…I may have cut a couple out just to keep from being too repetitive lol

Content Warning: mentions of kidnapping

The Riddlers React to Reader Being Kidnapped

Arkhamverse Riddler:

- Edward is furious.

- How could this have happened? You were always near him?

- Who dared to stroll in and snatch you away? Did you even put up any kind of fight?

- He wants to blame it on you somehow; you were distracted, you got careless…you had a habit of getting far too comfortable.

- Deep down though, Ed was enraged at himself. What kind of genius is he if he can’t protect his own?

- For once, there was a matter far more pressing than his original plan to foil the Caped Crusader.

Dano/Reevesverse Riddler:

- Edward's whole nervous system is set aflame.

- His breathing increases, and his heart palpitates--a panic attack rising.

- No, no he can't lose his nerve.

- He has to find you-NEEDS to find you.

- You kept him sane, made him feel accepted, loved…he CAN'T lose you.

- Edward dons his mask and packs up his gear.

- He was going to get you back, no matter what.

Gotham Riddler:

- Ed's body is shaken from the inside out with pure rage.

- His mind is racing with who could possibly do this to get a rise out of him.

- He loathes to admit it, but it worked--it absolutely worked, whoever it is got his attention.

- Ed wastes no time to set out to find you.

- You are priority #1, and he will paint the streets of Gotham red to find you.

- He won't leave any stone unturned until he has you back.

BTAS Riddler:

- A seething rage washes over him.

- He can't seem to have anything good in his life without someone or something pulling the rug from under his feet.

- Rage soon shifts to concern…where were you, who had you, did they hurt you, were they going to?

- Edward has to shake his head to get the worrying thoughts out of his head.

- He needs to focus. He's got to figure out who would do this and where you could possibly be held.

- Once you're safe in his arms again…he'll worry about the next steps to keep you safe…

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

- Edward doesn't jump into action like others have…when he first saw the note, he figured you were just playing a trick on him.

- However, when he searches for you around your humble and cozy apartment, he's stunned.

- Edward's blood runs cold.

- You truly were taken.

- He tries to recount your last moments, the last increments of which he's seen you…

- Ed's temper begins to flare at this point.

- But no matter how frustrating it got, he would bring you back.

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

- Edward has helped solve many kidnappings for various people.

- He did always worry about you possibly being in danger due to you being in a relationship with him…

- But a kidnapping?

- He never really imagined you being kidnapped. Usually, if someone had an issue with him--they would affect himself.

- Whatever case he was working on is immediately put on hold, and he refuses any new cases that come to his desk.

- Everything comes to a stop. All his energy and knowledge go to solving your whereabouts and bringing you back.

- Will likely enlist the help of Selina to find you. She hears and sees all sorts of things.

- Edward tries his best not to show it, but Selina can see the worry in his eyes, and she assures him they will get you back.

Telltale Riddler

^^ click on his name for the 500 follower event post with the same theme!^^

Young Justice Riddler

- Truly, likely the most panicked out of most of the other Riddlers.

- Guilt also overwhelms him a lot.

- You wouldn't likely be the victim of a kidnapping if you weren't associated with him.

- He knew he shouldn't have gotten involved with you…

- Eddie has to shake it off--he has to pull it together and find you.

- He begins to look for clues to where you've been and what you've done leading up to your whereabouts.

- Eddie tries to keep a determined attitude, to shove down any anxiety or insecurity, and keep it from distracting him from the objective at hand.

- You mean far too much for him to waste any time.

#ri writes #arkhamverse riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #reevesverse riddler x reader #gotham riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #batman the animated series riddler x reader #zero year riddler x reader #capullo riddler x reader #gotham city sirens riddler x reader #sirens riddler x reader #telltale riddler x reader #young justice riddler x reader #yj riddler x reader

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miss-musings · 6 months ago

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"And We're Not Done Yet": How Omega Also Needed Crosshair in The Bad Batch Season 3

Both during and in the weeks after "The Bad Batch" Season 3 aired, a lot of people talked about how much Omega helped Crosshair grow and change during Season 3 (and the show in general).

I'm certainly one of those people, but I thought it might be time to talk about just how much Omega needed Crosshair in Season 3 as well. I know he generally supported her like his brothers did throughout the show, but let's focus on how she specifically and uniquely needed him throughout S3.

(NOTE: I already posted this as a thread on my Twitter — @catchingclassic. So, sorry for any repetition across platforms. But, if you already saw the Twitter thread, I am going to expand on a few points, because Tumblr is more conducive to that.)

So, let's talk about how Crosshair and their special bond helped Omega in "The Bad Batch" Season 3:

Initial Imprisonment on Tantiss

Let's go chronologically and start with our characters' five- or six-month imprisonment on Tantiss.

While Omega is a prisoner at the base, she basically only has four individuals she has neutral to positive interactions with on a daily basis: Nala Se, Emerie, Batcher and Crosshair.

While she spends the most time with Emerie and does seem to develop some bond with her -- as we find out from Emerie's comments in 3.14 -- she also doesn't fully trust Emerie. If she did, she would've clued Emerie into her escape plans in 3.03.

But, Crosshair is someone she KNEW she could trust.

Crosshair was essentially Omega's only comfort during her imprisonment (other than Batcher, I guess). She'd just lost Tech and been separated from Hunter, Wrecker and Echo. She clearly needed someone to support her mentally/emotionally.

We only see two conversations between them in 3.01, and in the first one, he doesn't offer her much in the way of comfort. But in the second one, it's clear that Crosshair is trying to keep Omega focused on escaping, even if it's without him.

Look, I'm not saying Crosshair's demeanor was great. I wish we could've seen him offering her more comfort and support (and maybe he did off-screen).

But, at minimum, she continued to interact with him on a regular basis and seemed to tell him all sorts of details about her day, her plans to escape, etc. And, again, Crosshair encouraged her as best as he could:

Crosshair: What is your primary objective? Omega: Escape. Crosshair: Then stop wasting time on lost causes. Forget the hound, forget me, and complete the mission.

In early 3.01, he doesn't believe escape is possible. But, by late 3.01, he's apparently realized that Omega does have a good chance of escaping, if she plays her cards right, so he's trying to keep her focused.

And, he's actually right. Omega could've left with Batcher at the end of 3.01, but as I'll talk about shortly, that wouldn't have gone very well.

I've been showing TBB to my sister and we recently started S3. She was surprised by the five-month time jump in 3.01 and by just how much Omega had changed. She'd lost hope. She'd become almost complacent about her new life on Tantiss. She doesn't acknowledge Crosshair in the hallway. She doesn't demand to leave anymore. She's just accepted this is her life now, to some degree.

Omega definitely still had some fight left in her, as we see when Batcher is threatened, but five months on Tantiss clearly diminished so much of the stubbornly optimistic person she used to be. She also seemed to tunnel-vision on Batcher and Crosshair, and so that's why Crosshair has to remind her exactly what her objective is.

Again, we don't get to see much of it, but it's clear that Crosshair was basically Omega's only real support system on Tantiss. She might've had some positive interactions with Nala Se and/or Emerie off-screen (although that doesn't seem likely), but Crosshair seemed to be the only person encouraging her and helping her toward an escape attempt.

Speaking of...

Escaping Tantiss, Round 1

Omega absolutely needed Crosshair's help to escape Tantiss, especially on the day and at the time she did.

Let's say she took Crosshair's words to heart and left with Batcher at the end of 3.01:

She's outside the base with no weapon and no datapad. Even if she happens to remember the abandoned shuttle, she has no way to find it other than just blindly running around the jungle.

(EDIT/UPDATE: I forgot the droid K9-X1 also had a datapad Omega could’ve taken after she used it to open Batcher’s chute in 3.01. Not sure if it had the same capabilities as Nala Se’s datapad, but I would guess so. The droid also had an electro baton she could’ve taken. Not exactly a blaster but it’d be better than nothing. 🤷‍♀️)

And, while Batcher would be some help against the jungle creatures, one lurca hound isn't going to do much.

It would probably take a while, but I’m sure the lurca hounds and/or the stormtroopers would find her. And even if she remembers Plan 72 herself, now she doesn't have another person (or a weapon) to help her execute it.

But, in 3.03, once she gets Crosshair out of the cell, he gives her the second blaster. Now, they're both armed. They get outside, and he suggests they "follow the flight path" to find the crashed shuttle. He also watches her back the whole time they're in the jungle, and when the stormtroopers find them, he suggests Plan 72 and acts as a distraction while she steals the shuttle.

I also love that moment when she seems to give up, but Crosshair doesn’t let her:

Crosshair: You got us this far, and we’re not done yet.

One small detail I appreciate: if you look really closely at his facial expression when she apologizes, he really goes 😟 to hear that Omega of all people has given up hope that they’ll actually escape.

In any case, Omega, Crosshair and even Batcher all needed to be there to escape Tantiss as they did. And even then, they probably wouldn't have gotten away safely without Emerie bringing Hemlock Omega's results to have him call off the V-Wings.

Navigating Lau

Once the group crash-lands on Lau, Crosshair proves crucial to their escape efforts there. We always focus on her contributions, but don't really talk about his.

Omega probably would've been at the crash site all day, freezing and trying to fix the shuttle, if Crosshair hadn't prompted her to leave. He locates the spaceport, and says they need to move before they're discovered.

Once there, he reassures Omega that the stormtroopers are a standard patrol presence and tells her they can't contact Hunter and Wrecker because the Empire monitors long-range comms. He then comes up with the plan to try to sneak about one of the shuttles at the spaceport, but it's too well-guarded.

This is where Omega then takes the lead: she tries to bribe the spaceport employee and then decides to get money by hustling people at the cantina.

The whole time, though, Crosshair is watching her back and tries to stand up for her against the Imperial officer and the street kid.

And, despite how much he dislikes it, he does follow Omega to the cargo docks and helps her free Batcher. During the shootout, he fights the troopers while she steals the ship. Just like on Tantiss, they wouldn't have gotten out of there without working together.

Finally, as they head to reunite with Hunter and Wrecker, Crosshair tries to prepare her for the possibility that they might not be there. We know he's wrong, but he was still looking out for her (even if it was probably just him projecting).

Crosshair's Knowledge of the Empire and Tantiss

Just like on Lau, Crosshair's knowledge about the Empire and its procedures, etc. proves crucial in TBB's larger fight against Tantiss.

Once he and Omega reunite with everyone in 3.05, Crosshair helps by sharing what information he does have (although it does take him a while because of his trauma).

He takes TBB to Barton IV to decrypt the datapad in 3.05; he tells Rex & co. about the CX operatives in 3.06; he volunteers to take on CX-2 twice in 3.07; and he initiates the plan to break Rampart out of prison in 3.12.

Obviously, I don't like that Crosshair stayed with the Empire and left his family in 1.16. But the unspoken truth is that, without Crosshair staying in the Empire as long as he did, TBB probably never would've found Tantiss.

It was so well-guarded that the only way they could've found it was to track a ship already going there, like CX-2's Dagger in 3.11 or the science vessel in 3.13.

Also, while Omega wasn't there, Crosshair's knowledge of Tantiss and the surrounding jungle was crucial to TBB infiltrating the base in 3.14 and 3.15 -- even though the CX operatives beat their asses and take them prisoner anyway.

We'll circle back to Tantiss, Round 2 later, but for now, let's refocus on mid-Season 3:

Recovering from Tantiss

Let's talk about Omega needing Crosshair during their downtime on Pabu.

While the show focuses on Crosshair recovering from his trauma, Omega was traumatized by her imprisonment too. And Crosshair is the only one who knows firsthand just how bad it was for her.

Her day-to-day routine on Tantiss clearly wasn't as brutal as his, but she was still separated from her family for months.

As she tells Emerie in 3.03, it reminded her of being trapped on Kamino; and as we know from Season 1, that's where Omega was initially traumatized.

In mid-Season 3, she's so focused on going back for the other clone prisoners, but it's clear from several looks and remarks in 3.05 and 3.06 that she's still processing everything that happened to her there.

Throughout Season 3, we get several scenes of Crosshair being worried about her, checking on her and trying to keep her safe. We also get at least two scenes where he affirms just how bad Omega's suffering was:

Emerie in 3.03: "You should go back to your room." Crosshair: "You mean her CELL."

This exchange was short, but I love that Crosshair refused to let Emerie gaslight Omega. (I know Emerie was essentially a prisoner too, so her gaslighting wasn't exactly intentional, but that's a story for another time.)

We also get The Argument in 3.05 where Crosshair holds Hunter accountable, albeit in a very mean-spirited way:

Crosshair: You let Omega be taken to Tantiss. She went through what she did because YOU failed. You're angry because she escaped with MY help, not yours.

Admittedly we don't get to see it, but I wouldn't be surprised if Omega's recap of her imprisonment in 3.05 glossed over just how bad it was for her.

Again, Crosshair knew firsthand just how much she suffered. So, he tries to look out for her as best as he can, whether that's physically or emotionally. (Admittedly, we could've gotten more scenes of this, but the show is focused more on Crosshair's post-Tantiss recovery rather than Omega's.)

In 3.08, Omega's focused on helping Crosshair start his healing journey. I'm sure it proved to be a decent distraction while inadvertently helping her start processing her own trauma too.

I mean, at the end of the episode, they're meditating TOGETHER. It's not like she showed him how to do it and then just watched him or walked away.

It might have been inadvertent, but by helping him heal, I also think Omega was starting her own healing journey too.

Family, Reconciliation and Hope

Another recurring thread in mid-Season 3 (and even into the finale) is how Crosshair's journey reaffirms Omega's belief in the power of love, hope and family.

We know from Season 1 that Omega always wanted to save Crosshair and bring him back to their family. Even though he leaves them willingly in 1.16, she still cared about him and in 2.15, she and the others pushed Hunter to do whatever necessary to save Crosshair.

But, especially after losing Tech in 2.16, I can imagine just how important saving Crosshair and restoring him to their family was for her.

As she says in 2.16 when Hemlock captures Hunter and Wrecker:

Omega: I already lost Tech. I'm not gonna lose them too.

From the way she pushes Crosshair to talk to Hunter at the beginning of 3.05, it's clear she's invested in seeing the brothers reconcile. And, based on her expression when she sees Wrecker hugging his brothers at the end of the episode, it must've been so comforting for her after everything she and their family went through -- especially losing Tech.

Additionally, throughout the show, Omega has always tried to believe in people's goodness, and appeal to their kindness and compassion.

With Cid (and others), she's proven wrong, and they ultimately take advantage of her.

But, Crosshair proved she's right to believe people CAN change -- that they can reject the darkness and choose light.

When the group is debating whether to let Omega train with Ventress in 3.09, Omega uses Crosshair as her prime example that "people can change" and that she's not naïve for wanting to give Ventress a chance despite her past crimes.

I think she ultimately learned that there's a balance: that yes, some people like Cid will take advantage of you; but that there are others like Crosshair and Ventress who are trying to be better and will come through for you if given the chance.

(ADDITION: While it took her a long time to come around, Emerie also ultimately makes the right decision to turn against Hemlock/the Empire and help free the Tantiss prisoners. Maybe after reuniting with Emerie in 3.12, Omega hoped her sister would come to her senses and help/join her, just like Crosshair did. I can’t say for certain, but it’s a thought.)

Returning to Tantiss

In 3.11, when the Empire attacks and invades Pabu, Omega feels guilty for seeing the island full of refugees suffer because of her.

She straight-up says as much to Hunter and Crosshair. And while Hunter tries to emphasize that it's not her fault, based on what she tells Crosshair later in the episode, she still feels guilty:

Omega: Look at what they've already done. I can't let the people here suffer more because of me.

And, in 3.12, when Crosshair justifies letting Omega surrender herself, he affirms her sacrifice for the people of Pabu:

Crosshair: The Empire would've destroyed this whole town. She stopped them.

You can argue that Crosshair made a bad decision by letting Omega surrender, but I personally feel like they had no choice, especially if they wanted to minimize the suffering on Pabu. They couldn't hide; they couldn't fight; and they tried to run but failed.

I've wondered before if Hunter had been in Crosshair's shoes in 3.11, whether he would've let Omega go. I honestly don't know if he would've. Crosshair himself was so reluctant, and I imagine Hunter would've been just as bad or worse.

We've all talked before about how much Crosshair was afraid of going back to Tantiss, but we tend to overlook Omega's fear because of how brave and determined she is in 3.11. When CX-2 is taking her back to Tantiss, the way Omega breathes when she's on the ship is reminiscent of meditation breathing. I imagine she was trying to collect herself before facing Tantiss again.

I think she was afraid to go back, but she was more concerned about the people of Pabu and the prisoners on Tantiss, so she was trying to make the best of a bad situation.

But, despite all her fears and his own, Crosshair supported her decision and then tried his best to track her ship. And while he ultimately failed, I'm sure the thought that he was there for her -- physically and emotionally watching her back -- helped Omega make that choice and face it as bravely as she could.

(ADDITION: Right before she boards CX-2’s ship, there’s a moment where she turns around and looks back at Pabu. Was she looking for Crosshair specifically, or Hunter or someone else familiar, or just looking back in general? I’m not sure.)

Escaping Tantiss, Round 2 (AKA The Shot)

So, Crosshair helps his brothers infiltrate Tantiss.

They get captured by the CX operatives and taken to the training room/CX lab. Echo, Omega and the clone prisoners work together to fight the CX operatives and save TBB.

After Crosshair saves Hunter from CX-2, he affirms he's going with Hunter to find and save Omega.

It's honestly a really good thing he did, because without Crosshair on that bridge, that scene plays out very differently.

Hunter probably could've taken out CX-2's Dagger and Scorch by himself, but with Hemlock holding Omega at gunpoint, I think Hunter might've actually put his blaster down when Hemlock threatened her.

It'd be in-character for him, as he surrendered when Hemlock's commandos had Wrecker at gunpoint in 2.16. Admittedly, he was vastly outnumbered, which is a big factor. But, if Hunter is on that bridge by himself, he and Hemlock are basically in a standoff.

With Crosshair with him, though, the brothers have Hemlock outnumbered and outgunned. If Hemlock managed to shoot one of them, the other would take him down.

Additionally, either of them might’ve backed down if they had to navigate that situation alone. But together, they have each other for support. They're greater than the sum of their parts after all.

So, Hemlock has Omega at gunpoint and is using her as a human shield. The brothers take a knee on the bridge, and Hemlock decides to take Omega over to the edge, so if the brothers manage to shoot him, he and Omega will both fall to their deaths.

Omega signals them. Hunter catches it, but Crosshair apparently doesn't. So, Hunter tells him what to do.

And now we come to The Shot:

Let's say Hunter is out there alone and the scene plays out the exact same way. Omega signals him, he sees it, and she stabs Hemlock in the leg and lifts the binders so he can shoot them.

Could Hunter have made that shot?

Obviously, it's a TV show set in a science-fantasy universe. So, there's always a chance. Plus, Hunter is definitely a better shot than the average person, and in a high-stakes situation like that, I'm sure the adrenaline and his love for Omega would help (just as it does for Crosshair in-canon).

But, based on everything we've seen of Hunter's shooting abilities in the show, I'm going to say: No, he probably wouldn't have.

In 2.09, Tech shoots the vial of ipsium instead of Hunter or Wrecker because:

Tech: If the shot is not precise, it'll cause another cave-in.

If Hunter was a better shot than Tech, Tech would've had him take it. But, Tech was the best of the three, so he did it.

And, Crosshair -- as a sniper -- was the best shot in Clone Force 99. I mean, that was his whole thing. He’s a sharpshooter.

I know that Crosshair has basically everything stacked against him, and he still managed to do it. But, Hunter would've been facing many of the same disadvantages -- injuries; lighting and weather conditions; the distance, size and speed of the target, etc. And based on everything we've seen in the series, Hunter is a worse shot than Crosshair.

If Hunter knew he could make that shot himself, I think he would've taken it knowing Crosshair was missing his shooting hand. And, if Hunter only thought there was a chance he'd make it, he clearly didn't want to risk it. He deferred to Crosshair, because he knew Crosshair was the better shot of the two of them, even with all the disadvantages they were facing.

No, it HAD to be Crosshair.

As I said, Crosshair needed to be there for Hunter and Omega.

He helped Hunter take out the Dagger and Scorch; he supported Hunter as Omega was being held at gunpoint and Hemlock told them to surrender; and he made The Shot to free Omega and then helped Hunter turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese.

That was the only way the three of them could've done it -- together.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, as much as we understandably love to talk about Crosshair needing Omega to grow and change, Omega needed Crosshair too.

After losing Tech, she wanted so badly to escape with Crosshair and return to TBB so they could all be a family again.

He gave her support and encouragement during her darkest days.

He looked out for her as she processed her traumas and never let others diminish her suffering.

He supported her decision to protect Pabu by surrendering herself, despite her fears and his own.

He showed her that change was possible and that healing is a journey -- one they started together.

And then he helped his brothers rescue her and the others from Tantiss, and ultimately saved her life.

Plus, as we hear about in the epilogue, Crosshair helped his brothers raise Omega for ~10 happy years on Pabu.

Omega needed Crosshair in Season 3 just as much as he needed her.

She needed ALL five of her brothers/dads to become the kind and capable person we meet in the epilogue.

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where-dreamers-go · 7 months ago

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“Introductions” rk800 Connor x Reader

(A/N: Meeting Connor for the first time. Reader is an investigative assistant. This one’s a little short. Warnings: Language and canon violence (one punch). Use of (Y/F/N) for your first name. Word Count: 738 words)

Days could be exceedingly repetitive. Other days were only the same by slim comparisons. The work day ahead of you would likely change all of that by a sizable percentage.

Not that you knew that in the moment.

Walking out of the restroom, close to the break room, you heard the tell tale voice of Detective Reed. He didn’t sound too enthused. Nothing new there.

Before taking notice of anything else, you saw ‘ANDROID’ on the back of a dark jacket. An intriguing sight for the break room and unfortunate given a certain detective’s presence.

Oh, no, you thought as your feet took you closer. A wall blocked the scene’s entirety, but you could hear plenty.

“. . . is that it?” Detective Reed asked sourly.

You reached a vacant space behind the concrete wall, hearing his voice clearly.

“Hey, bring me a coffee, dipshit.”

Quietly, you took one step into the break room.

Reed was standing uncomfortably close to the dark-haired android and looking smug if not a little peeved.

The newcomer did not turn to retrieve any coffee.

“GET A MOVE ON!”

Rigid, you watched on. Something in you needed to know how this turned out, to get a better read of everyone in the room.

Neither individual moved in their standoff.

“I’m sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson.” The android replied.

“Oh… Oh…” Detective Reed turned sarcastically to his companion at a small table who was watching.

The android had been looking to the silent detective as well until Reed sucker punched the android’s middle. Without a word, the android dropped down to one knee. Stiff and giving no other reaction.

Their backs were to you completely.

“When a human gives you an order, you obey.” Reed pointed at the downed figure before leaning forward. “Got it?” He crouched even further to be eye level. “Stay outta my way… Next time you won’t get off so easy.”

Reed pushed the android’s forehead before leaving him hunched over, close to the floor. Even walking off with the other detective a few paces behind, Reed stared harshly at the android.

Hater, you thought, ignoring the widescreen television hung on the wall set to a news channel. Poor thing.

In front of you, the figure pushed themselves up in one straight movement before rolling the shoulder joints.

Oh. You rushed over.

“Are you okay?” You asked in a hushed tone, coming up beside the android’s left side.

“I do not have any damage. All of my systems are operational.” The brown-eyed android said. After adjusting his tie, he turned to you fully. The LED on his temple spun for a couple of moments before settling to a steady blue.

“So…you are okay?”

“I am.” He gave a half smile, encouragingly. “My name is Connor. I am the android sent by Cyberlife.”

“Hi… My name is (Y/F/N). I am a human….who had enough motivation to go to work today.” You paused with a small smile. “I’m an investigative assistant.”

“Perhaps we will both be assigned to the same case. Lieutenant Anderson and I are assigned to any case involving androids.”

“Hank Anderson?” You lowered your voice as you asked.

“Yes. Have you worked with him?” His eyes seemed to brighten.

“Yeah. This should be interesting.”

Connor tilted his head.

Cute. Well at least he’s not teamed with Reed. That’d be a disaster and a half.

Clearing your throat, you clasped your hands together.

“Uh… Not all humans are like Reed, but if he bothers you again… Please let me know.”

“I can handle myself, but I will keep that in mind.”

I hope so. You thought and took a step to the side.

“Good. Uh. I guess I’ll see you around, Connor. I hope your day goes by more smoothly.”

“Thank you.” He gave a slight inclination of his head. “I look forward to working with you if we are assigned on the same case or in passing.”

Smiling in kind, you gave a small wave and left the break room to return to your business.

Whether the android’s words were merely professional or friendly, you had a good feeling about your new acquaintance. You harbored no ill feelings towards androids. Perhaps that was a weakness, perhaps not.

But why would they have an android put on android cases? Hmm.

There would be plenty of time to ponder that question and many more.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Detroit Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#dbh connor #connor rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #dbh fanfic #detroit become human #where dreamers go #detective reed is being mean

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slashersgostabbystabstab · 2 months ago

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Telltale

Singularity x Reader

Hiiii. It's been a while, I know. I won't get into it 'cause it doesn't matter, but sorry for basically abandoning my blog lol.

Obviously not my best work, but just trying to get back into writing (especially because I'm kind of just taking a break from my original story I've been developing ^^). I hope you guys at least find this decent, thank you for reading :) I just wanted to try my hand at some things with Hux because he's been on my mind a lot lately

Words: 1,840

Warnings: Typical canon violence mentioned(tell me if I need to add anything else!). Edited but I should have edited again lol

Hate. It was the perfect word to describe how he felt about the rats who called themselves humans. No: rats was too good of a word for them.

He hated these…parasites. Hated every bit of them. Hated the way they thought themselves mightier than all. Hell, he even hated the way they sounded.

In fact, Hux especially hated the way they all sounded.

Their conversations were obnoxious, as was the way they chewed and drank. The way they breathed in the oxygen in his presence; it was atrocious. And it was especially awful when their breathing blew out traces of fear. And with fear in their systems came the sound of their hearts. Oh, the beating of their frail, little hearts always managed to increase his fury.

When it wasn’t the ear-shattering screams piercing the Entity’s realm that brought such a fury, it was the quick, dull drumming against their chests.

The screams, the shrieks, the cries….those were all momentary. They were released once flesh was impaled by rusted hook, and they ended once Hux’s voicebox demanded they quit the squabbling.

But Hux found the sound of their hearts maddening, and he would never admit his own fault to this madness. The price for such heightened senses was paid with every irritating sound that was capable of physically paining him.

Trials proved vexatious with how often he was subjected to the beatings of their hearts. Nobody could hear these things like he did; nobody experienced the pain that came with hearing such an awful, repetitive noise. And the sounds only continued when he got out of every trial and returned to what could be called his “home”. Once his stroll involving the harmless sounds coming from Dvarka’s lifeforms came to an end, he was met with sounds from within the inhabited Huxlee Caracas III.

Hux could only stand in the doorway of the ship, twitching more than the usual as his systems caught the sound of a heart beating.

“Find it.”

That voice. How it startled him every time. Even after all this time, Hux had not yet grown accustomed to the voice inside him.

“Terminate it.”

Hux refrained, still standing as he searched for that voice as if he didn’t know who it was spoke to him.

“But it will come back.” he countered, practically feeling the heart’s beats pounding from within his own head. “It comes back every time.”

“Then terminate it again.”

Hux quickly whipped his head to the side where the heart’s beats proved to be loudest.

“And again.”

Finally he moved; jumping in place before hurrying up the steel stairs that connected the ship’s levels. The heart sounded louder now that he was up the stairs and in the second story; it was as though the heart pounded in his very chest.

“There it is.”

“There it is.” he repeated once his sensors scanned the area, having caught sight of the body of the singular survivor that was ever allowed in his realm when not in trial. Not like he really left them the choice to leave.

Hux stood in the doorway of the new floor; his movements having ceased as he pondered and listened to the voice in him. It was insidious how stealthily he remained in place, so stealthy that the survivor never once noticed his arrival, never once noticed how he crept closer to the pile of futons they lay curled upon.

“Terminate it.”

And with the thumping drumming loudly through his systems, Hux obliged and brought himself even closer towards the human. In fact, desperation had entered him and prompted him to raise his scythe up high, aimed at the human who had still not become aware of him.

What a fool.

He had moved so fast he sliced into the wind without a sound, so fast that he nearly plunged his scythe into the human. Almost, for his scythe was forcibly hindered midair.

“Why did you stop?”

It was a rather good question provided by his inner voice. Why did he cease what he had already performed various times? He never hesitated to do it in the past when he questioned why this human had caught his attention. But now…

Hux found himself motionless once more, frozen as he processed the sounds this human made. The breaths they inhaled before exhaling it back out as carbon monoxide; even their bodily functions expelled waste. The soft groans their lips released as their eyes and eyebrows twitched in reaction to whatever dreadful things they dreamt of. The blood running through each and every vein that connected to their core.

He isolated the sound of their heart. That sound…it was what forced him to hesitate. It was tantalizing how it beat inside of them in a way he would not be able to see unless he proceeded with his previous actions. It enticed him how the heart beat in a rhythm he could actually distinguish as something not recognizable.

The heart did not beat fast. It only beat loudly when Hux finally processed it, and it wasn’t pounding against his innards. Instead…it was in a state of diastole, pumping blood in a relaxed manner. There was no terror or hate present in it.

Hux finally lowered the frozen claw back to his side, as it stood in his sights and did not allow him to examine the survivor. His sensors gave them one good scan, taking note of the lack of fright in their snoozing expression. With such an expression, it was as though they believed there to be no danger in their presence. As if nothing in the Entity’s realm would ever harm them.

“What a fool.”

Both Hux and the voice in him spoke as he glazed over the survivor. It was then that he noticed something peculiar. In their arms was a miniature box he recognized as a monitor belonging to the ship. And in between the sounds of the human’s soft heartbeats and a gentle groan, he caught the sound of the monitor’s humming. Quite reminiscent of the sounds that came from his perfect body.

The monitor in the survivor’s arms was up and running, though it merely displayed a blue screen awaiting a command. It was strange that they removed the box from its place to hold it like some trinket.

“Hux?”

This was not his voice. No, this voice belonged to the survivor whose eyes now opened, eyes fluttering like the alien organisms that flew around the base. He watched them release the monitor with a single hand to rub said eyes, vision clearing enough before it resulted in something new.

The thumping against their chest, that same annoying sound was back with how their heart rate increased. Yet…the rhythm once again proved itself different from what he would typically hear in trials. Once again, it lacked terror and hate, and it was very apparent to Hux.

“Were you gone for long? I’m not even sure when I shut my eyes.” the human stretched their arms out before sitting upright with the monitor in their lap.

“Answer unknown.”Hux promptly replied. “Explain.”

“Explain?” they asked with a few blinks of their eyes, soon realizing that Hux was referring to the monitor once he placed the tip of his claw on its surface. “Oh! Well, I was just waiting to be called in for a trial and decided to play around with the stuff here.”

They offered him a grin, but soon turned away rather sheepishly.

“I somehow found myself getting drowsy and just…held it as I dozed off I guess.”

“For what purpose?”

“Oh, I dunno…I guess it was just…comforting.” they offered a shrug with their fingers tapping against the monitor. “Sounds kind of like you. Helps me center myself when all these sounds are around me. I guess I just love the sound of you.”

“But you hate the sound of them.”

“No.”

“No, what?” Both his voice and the human questioned his response. “Hux?”

He quickly whipped his body around to face a nearby crate, and he used his same claw to stab into it.

“Sit.”

Clearly not needing to be told twice, the survivor immediately stood from their makeshift nest to take a seat on the crate. From their new, higher point that matched something close to Hux’s chest, they watched him circle until he stood before them. Almost immediately, he hunched over to look them directly in the face.

He honed in on their sounds once again as he ignored the noises from within the Huxlee Caracas III and the noises from the organisms outside of it. And just as he did that, he heard their heart increase in rate again.

Did they finally feel fear? The fear that struck them every time he hunted them down before the Entity forbade them from ever facing each other in trial…was it back?

Hux heard their heart slow down as he noticed their facial features grow soft, a small smile now present on their face as they hesitantly reached a hand out to his head.

“Can I?” they whispered into the visor that hovered inches from their face, not getting any response from Hux which was his form of consent. They placed their hand on the side of his head, listening to the machinery attached to synthetic flesh. Their warm fingers delicately rubbed circles into his flesh; that he could also hear.

And soon enough they brought their arms around him, enveloping his head that was brought to their chest.

“I love moments like these,” they breathed out, and even with Hux’s senses they weren’t overwhelmingly loud. It was nothing like the screams of all those other worms that mixed with the mechanical sounds of the generators being worked on, nor was it like the whispers of the Entity speaking to him as a false guide during trials.

No, this was the contrary of all the other irksome sounds that drove him to madness. It was almost something that helped him ground himself amongst the big world he was thrown into. Something that would turn down his god-like senses, allowing him to rest from Entity’s mockery.

“Did something happen?” the human spoke to him, interrupting the sound of their own beating heart that now actually pounded against Hux’s head once he pressed his head against their chest. It was as though that hideous thing spoke to him through their chest, very well knowing he was on the other side.

“Stop squabbling.”

“Okay.” Hux did not look at their facial features, but the way they moved against him and tightened their hold told him that their smile only grew. He felt them rest their head upon his, listening to every one of the parts that moved inside and outside of him.

They were clearly at ease with how they inhaled, soon releasing their breath as a warm air that covered Hux’s head. It was foolish of them, but this foolishness was more than enough to help him forget about the sounds for just a moment.

#dbd #dbd singularity #dbd hux #hux a7 13 #singularity x reader #hux x reader #robophilia #da robot is autistic

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azaharinflames · 25 days ago

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Regarding the post from firehose118. That are such good points, and it makes me cry for Tommy all over again. Not that Buck did anything on purpose, but I guess the "plan" from Tim was that he needs "poor" Buck again for upcoming episodes (Eddie moving away, Maddie getting kidnapped), so he can't really have a great support system in Tommy, so they needed to break up. And while his plan also maybe was that everyone feels sorry for Buck for being the one who got broken up with, they didn't consider that viewers would look at this from Tommy's angle too. (and would understand his side)

Hi Nonnie!

Finally answering asks! I wanted to do it yesterday, but the moment I thought about it my body went: lmao as if, so that was a no. But going to sleep at nine p.m did wonders, so here we are!

Regarding your ask: yes.

At this point I think it's rather obvious that was Tim's intention behind the break-up, to have Buck be as isolated as he could get him. At the very least, it is the only thing that makes sense to me.

Is it still a really bad decision? Yes. Because we've seen Buck alone before! This is nothing new, and seeing him spiraling over it is nothing new either. Rather, it feels tiresome and repetitive. Do you know what would've felt like something new? See Buck deal with whatever happens with a partner by his side - see him perhaps lash out at Tommy, and work through it. Let us see him grow as a person, and with someone.

I can't help but think they just didn't fully think this through. That the way they're writing this season is lazy and doesn't feel true to the characters. And a reason for that is what you said: they didn't consider the viewers would look at the break-up from Tommy's angle, would understand it, and would feel incredibly bad for him.

I don't know if they were fully expecting everyone to move into Buck's team and be against Tommy, mostly because I do think they wanted some sympathy for him (therefore, not making the bad ex) just in case they want to bring him back (or just in case the plan is for him to come back); but I do think they weren't expecting for the vast majority to move into Tommy's team, and a lot of people caring for him and what will happen to him now that he's alone.

It's a bit hard to believe for me, because as someone who's worked in marketing, it was rather obvious how loved Tommy has been since his re-introduction. It feels like 2+2=4 that people would be upset at his mistreatment.

Anyway. Sorry for answering you with a rant lmao. Hope that made sense.

My inbox is open for ranting, venting, confessing, or giving any opinions!

Take care <3

#bucktommy #tevan #tommy kinard #911 critical #anon ❣️

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turningbloodypages · 4 months ago

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hello! this is a bit of a long request but is there anyway you could do carlisle cullen x gender neutral reader where reader is sick and carlisle give her medicine and he has a bunch of different kind bc yk he’s a doctor and stuff but uh oh turns out carlisle gave reader the wrong medicine that can actually hurt them so they have to puke it up and carlisle helps them throw it all up while reader is crying and whining bc of how much they hate throwing up and carlisle feels so guilty and tries his best to comfort her

This is my first time ever requesting anything so sorry if it’s bad 😭😭

No worries! I hope i did it justice <3

“Are you feeling any better?” Cold hands rubbed your back softly, up and down in a repetitive motion. You had been curled up in bed for a while now, having felt horrible since you woke up. Carlisle had given you a few pills and hour before, but you didn’t feel any better. In fact, you were sure you had gotten worse.

You shake your head, face buried in a pillow. He frowns, reaching for the pill bottle on the nightstand. He looked over the label, quiet for a moment, before letting out a sigh.

“I gave you the wrong medication. No wonder you’re feeling so horrible. Come on, let’s get up.” You let out a groan as he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter, letting you lean your weight on him as he goes through the medicine cabinet. After a moment, he pulls out a near identical bottle to the one he had grabbed from the nightstand.

“You needed anti-inflammatory, and i gave you antibiotics, which could cause a lot of problems if we don’t get it sorted out.” He put the new bottle on the counter. “You’re going to need to throw up so we can get the old pills out of your system.”

You frown, still leaning your weight on him. “Do I really have to? I don’t even feel that bad.” He frowns, nodding.

“I’m afraid so. It could be really harmful to keep that medication in your system. Come on, you’ll be alright.”

It takes you almost half an hour to get yourself to throw up, Carlisle trying his best to soothe you the whole while. You’re crying as you do, both out of pain and exhaustion. As soon as you were finished, he pulled you into his arms, carefully cleaning you up with a damp cloth and helping you back to bed.

“Here,” he gives you two pills. The right ones this time. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. That was my fault, you didn’t deserve it.” You could tell he felt absolutely horrible by the way he spoke—soft and quiet. He sat next to you in bed as you took the pills, pulling the blankets up over you and helping you get comfortable.

“It’s alright,” you mumble, already drifting off to sleep. He held you close the whole night, never taking his eyes iff you for even a second.

#twilight saga #carlisle cullen x reader #request

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munchmemes · 4 months ago

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Paris Paloma lyrics, Cacophony edition

▸ what did i do wrong? will you tell me what i did wrong? ▸ was it a first offense? ▸ how long had you been harboring that venom? ▸ i don't think you would pull out on the other side. ▸ i know you had a temper but i guess i thought i was immune. ▸ i was strawberry picking, you were gathering ammunition to use. ▸ my mind has not been silent since you. ▸ i never burn bridges, i just laden them with locks. ▸ i'm a smothering lover. ▸ are you a people pleaser? ▸ sometimes i catch you, so secretive and private. ▸ all the time i covet what you cover by the hedgerow. ▸ cohesive arguments evade [them], eggshell temperament, no emotional regulation, hysterical baby. ▸ i used to think of you a caring thing. ▸ i'm floored you ever got there. ▸ never making good on silent threats so that [you/they] know that i have nothing. ▸ i'm severing ties. ▸ this was an escape plan. ▸ if our love died, would that be the worst thing? ▸ for somebody i thought was my saviour, you sure make me do a whole lot of labour. ▸ apologies from my tongue, never yours. ▸ i know you're a smart man and weaponise the false incompetence. ▸ it's dominance under guise. ▸ now i've gotta run so i can undo this mistake. at least i've gotta try. ▸ it's not an act of love if you make [them]. ▸ you take such delight in killing my light. ▸ if i don't make a sound, does it even hurt? ▸ it fills you with light to take away mine. ▸ you've been playing with your power for a long time. ▸ let us sit so quietly. ▸ how gentle can our violence be between finger and thumb. ▸ i'm sorry i'm repetitive. ▸ i don't mind you keep forgetting it, so long as it's your thread, not the depths of my love. ▸ [you/they] opened my eyes and they'll never close again. ▸ how can you be so in love with yourself? tell me, please, cause i need help. ▸ every time you are succeeding, there's an old man somewhere seething. ▸ spite's as good a reason to take [their] power. ▸ when you hate the body you are in, you're acting just for them. ▸ take that rage and bottle up. ▸ you don't need [them], you don't need me. ▸ what a lovely hiding place that you have made. ▸ what a world outside to keep each other safe from. ▸ the com-link's open but there's no one tuned in on the other side. ▸ why did i deserve to live? did i just deserve to watch them die? ▸ if they had asked me, i wouldn't have agreed that it was the right thing. ▸ leave me to the beasts and bears. i'd rather that the feast was theirs. ▸ for the first time since i drew breath, i'm undesirable again. ▸ it will never be yours. ▸ don't you dare think it's overkill. ▸ was i meant in this life to find peace? ▸ death won't bring what you think it will. ▸ death won't bring what you hope it will. ▸ what i long for is nonexistent in any belief system. ▸ all i want is some rest. ▸ there's no sentience in death. just the darkness at the worst temporality and permanence. ▸ i don't know what's on the other side but i don't think it's what i had in mind. ▸ i hope i find some rest in this life. ▸ do i not fear death but just pretend to? ▸ i felt sick at my contempt. ▸ if you were easy to kill, i would have done it already. ▸ if i was easy to kill, you would have done it already. ▸ for you were lonely, you were like me. ▸ i used to think that i was running from the night but i've been following behind the light all this time. ▸ it can't hurt me. it's still there but it can't now the warmth's returning. ▸ our paths will never cross again. that's the way you wanted it. ▸ there was a time i felt for you. ▸ i don't know you. i used to like to pretend to. ▸ we're nothing but myths now that neither of us believe in. ▸ i never thought i wouldn't care about you but here we are. ▸ no muscle memory, no lingering taste, no persistent impulse to pick up your trace. ▸ i left you no note, you left me no sign. ▸ sweet indifference. gentle apathy. wholesome, quiet dispassion. restful neutrality.

#rp meme #rp starters #sentence starters #lyrics rp starters #lyrics starters #roleplay meme #lyrics rp meme #lyrics meme #ask meme

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 2 years ago

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Capitol Punishment XIII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 3.7K

Part XII | Masterlist | Part XIV

A/N There will be medical stuff explained. I’m not a doctor so just pretend it makes sense

You felt like you had woken up in a strange environment 20 times in the last day and a half and you hoped this would be the last time you woke up like this.

As your eyes peeled open you were greeted with a harsh hospital light. You could feel someone holding your hand at your side. Turning your head you found Haymitch clasping your hand, head resting on the bed as he dozed off. You felt a smile tug at your lips seeing him so peaceful. You tried to reach over to stroke his hair with your free hand but whatever the doctors had done to you wouldn’t allow that as your abdomen cramped.

You returned to your previous position flat on your back with a hiss, stirring Haymitch. Which was impressive considering how deeply he used to sleep even when it wasn’t due him blacking out. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, eyes moving around erratically searching for the cause of your pain.

“I’m fine,” you tried to calm him down. “Just a little sore from the surgery. Do you know what they did?”

“Just that they had to fix some internal bleeding. They said the doctor would be in to update us when you woke up,” he explained. He brushed some fingers through your hair. “God I’m so glad you’re okay. I know I’ll never be able to fix or make you forget what they did to you but I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Haymitch,” you scolded slightly, “it’s not your fault. I never once blamed you for this.” You lifted your hand to stroke down the side of his face. “I love you and I know you’d never put me in danger on purpose.”

“I never should’ve let you out of my sight,” he continued anyways. “Especially when I knew what was coming.”

Before you could protest once again the doctor came in. “Mrs. Abernathy,” he interrupted. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Uh- yeah,” you agreed, pulling away slightly from your husband. “What happened?”

The doctor paused for a second, struggling with saying what he needed to say in a delicate way. “Well, um, your injuries were due to, what we believe to be, repetitive, violent rape and a not properly cared for miscarriage. We stitched up the source of the bleeding internally and those stitches will degrade safely within the body over time so no need to get them removed. And while the Capitol did remove the decaying cells from your miscarriage to prevent you from going into sepsis, your uterus and other vaginal structures were mostly scar tissue. I’m sorry to say that you’ll never be able to carry a pregnancy again.”

You were horrified. Horrified remembering everything you’ve faced, not just in the Capitol after the Quarter Quell but also for the years of abuse that you hadn’t realized was killing your body in more ways than you thought. You were also disappointed remembering the miscarriage you had and the news that you’d never be able to give Haymitch a family. And yet also strangely relieved?

You faintly heard him dismiss the doctor before facing you again. “Hey, Y/N? It’s okay. I know you wanted to have a baby but-” With his words you let the tears fall, sobs wracking your body.

It took you a second to be able to speak but when you could you said, “No, it’s not that. Of course I wanted to have our baby and I know it’s fucked up to say this but I’m relieved. I wasn’t able to admit it to myself until now but I couldn’t possibly have a baby in this fucked up world. Especially as we’re fighting a war that we could very well die in. Haymitch, I love you, and I would’ve loved our baby so much but I’m glad I don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same way.”

Haymitch paused, stunned. He never knew you felt that way about your pregnancy. “Don’t worry. I’m relieved too.”

Your heart melted knowing that this man would do whatever and be whatever to make you happy. Since you still couldn’t really move, you tugged his collar, urging him to kiss you. He complied, leaning up to press his lips to yours in a deep kiss full of all of each others’ love. Your first kiss since the arena.

When Haymitch pulled away to breathe all he wanted was to crawl into bed and hold you tightly to his side like he had after your games. But the Capitol beds were much larger and you were more fragile than he had ever seen you so he opted instead to sit back down, clasping your hand once again.

A couple hours later you and Haymitch had both dozed off in the relative silence of the hospital wing of District 13. You were both startled awake by Johanna slamming the door open. “Ah, I see you two lovebirds are reunited in your perfect fucking bubble,” she sneered with a false smile.

“Ah, Johanna, nice to see you survived the games and the Capitol,” Haymitch groaned.

“Haymitch,” you scolded, rubbing your eyes. “Can you give us a second?” you asked him. He pursed his lips, reluctant to leave you again but agreed anyways, sending a look to Johanna as he exited the room. “How are you?”

She scoffed, fiddling with the IV bag she wheeled in. “How do you think?”

“Well considering you’re allowed to walk and you managed to give those doctors hell when we got back, I’m guessing not too bad.”

She chuckled at that. “All I want to do it carve the hearts out of Snow and all those Capitol bastards,” she growled. “I’m sure you feel the same. We could all hear everything as Snow let those guys-”

“Johanna,” you cut her off, not wanting to relive it.

“Sorry,” she said realizing your discomfort. “They tried to do it to me too. Again. I refused, nearly killed a guard in the process. Why didn’t you fight back while we were there? Not like they could’ve hurt you any worse.”

“When I first woke up there I had no clue where Haymitch was. No idea if he was in danger or not. Also I watched you and Peeta get dropped in your cells half dead every day. I figured *that was a better alternative to what you were going through.”

Johanna shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just us picking our poisons.”

“Have you seen Katniss? Or Annie? Or even Peeta?”

She looked surprised. “You haven’t heard?” Confused you shook your head no. “The Capitol fucked with Peeta’s brain. He’s basically terrified of Katniss and is trying to murder her. Anything about her sets him off.”

Your eyes widened. “What? They brainwashed him? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been trying to see you since they finished all their stupid little tests. You haven’t been awake in almost a day.”

Your eyes fluttered in astonishment as you realized that you had missed out on so much information. “Okay, where’s Katniss?”

“Recovering. Peeta was about to choke her to death before Haymitch and a few other guys got him off her.”

“And Annie? Finnick?”

Johanna shrugged once again. “She and Finnick are off somewhere. She’s fine. She was hardly touched while were were in the Capitol.”

“Good,” you breathed. Annie was the only one you hadn’t been able to see since three sides of your cage had been metal. You sometimes heard her screams but they were rare and as far as you could tell the guards hardly ever went into her cell.

Johanna scoffed. “She got nothing while Peeta and I were electrocuted and beaten half to death every day.”

“Johanna,” you scolded. “It’s not her fault. Besides she’s been through enough.”

“We’ve all been through enough. You, me, Haymitch, Finnick? We all got the worst of it after our games. Katniss got out her games scot-free and so did Peeta except now he’s paying for Katniss’-”

Her words were interrupted by Katniss as she closed the door behind her. You were shocked, you hadn’t even heard her come in. “You’re alive,” was all she said. You weren’t sure it was directed towards you or Johanna.

“So are you,” she answered, exiting the room.

It was Katniss’ turn to sit at your bedside, Haymitch following after. Her throat was badly bruised and her eyes looked bloodshot. From Peeta you realized. “Katniss,” you said softly, observing the haunted look in her eyes.

“Am I the reason you and the others got captured?” she asked, looking at both you and Haymitch.

“No,” you interrupted quickly. “Us getting captured was no one’s fault. All this shit isn’t your fault, you were just trying to save Prim.”

She opened her mouth to protest by Haymitch interrupted her. “Y/N, Coin wants you to talk to Peeta.”

“Who’s Coin?” you asked.

“Oh, right. There’s a lot to catch you up on. She’s the President of 13. And since Peeta’s mind has been altered, we’re hoping your face will offer some comfort since you were in the Capitol together.”

“Okay,” you agreed, eager to help the boy too good for this world. You tried to push yourself up only for Haymitch to rush to your side, pushing you down again.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he insisted. “You’re not cleared to walk yet. Let me find a wheelchair.”

“Haymitch,” you whined, “that’s humiliating.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, because that’ll be humiliating for the both of us when you drop me,” you joked. He gave you a sour look. “Fine,” you conceded.

Haymitch left, leaving you with Katniss once again. “District 12 is gone. The Capitol bombed it after the arena went out. I just thought you should know.”

You felt your expression physically drop. Everything you had ever known was just gone? The place you grew up, as shitty as it was? The people who had tried to help you when you lost everything? Your home with Haymitch? The place you had married yourselves? Just gone. You didn’t know what to say and neither did Katniss but your processing was interrupted by Haymitch’s return. “Is District 12 gone?” you blurted out, hoping Katniss was wrong.

He stopped dead in his tracks before sighing, nodding his head. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” he tried to comfort, coming back to your side. “Do you want me to tell Coin you’re not up to talking to Peeta?”

“No,” you answered quickly. “I’m fine. I can do this.” You felt so helpless now that your home was gone, you wanted to help someone. So you reluctantly let Haymitch wheel you towards what looked like a garage door. From there a medical assistant took you around the corner to a normal door and wheeled you into the brightest and whitest room you had ever seen. Strapped down to the bed was Peeta who looked at you with broken eyes. You nearly let out a sob realizing how frail and tormented he looked. “Peeta,” you said softly.

“Y/N,” he replied in the same manner.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Where are we?” he dismissed your question. “This isn’t the Capitol.”

“We’re in District 13. Turns out it’s still a real place. We were rescued.”

“My family hasn’t come to see me.”

You felt a tear prick your eye as you remembered how poorly his family treated him in the first place. After he won the games and gave them more money they could possibly hope for they still refused to move into the home he won for them in Victor’s Village. “I’m sure we can-” you turned to find the assistant to ask them to bring his family but one shake of the head from him and you knew Peeta’s family hadn’t survived the bombing. “I’m so sorry, Peeta,” you cried, trying to take his hand gently. But he pulled his fingers just out of reach.

“There was an attack on 12,” he recalled. His empty, haunted expression slowly morphed into anger. “It’s Katniss. It’s because of Katniss.”

“It wasn’t because of her,” you insisted.

“Did she tell you to say that?”

“She didn’t tell me to say anything.”

“She’s a liar, Y/N,” he insisted. “It’s a trick.”

“What you’re saying isn’t real.”

A look of realization dawned over his face. “She sent you in here to talk to me. She and Haymitch.”

“No,” you began.

“Liar!” he suddenly yelled. “They’re liars! They left us in there!” You could faintly hear Haymitch’s yell to pull you out as the assistant began dragging you out of the room. You watched in horror as Peeta thrashed around on the bed screaming that Haymitch had abandoned you in the arena.

After another day you were cleared to try walking again. Before, rather than having a catheter placed (thank god), Haymitch would just carry you to the bathroom. An easier feat now that you barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. And as much as you appreciated it it was also infantilizing having to be carried to and from the bathroom by your husband.

As you swung your legs over the side of the bed you suddenly became afraid. You had been so eager to be able to walk again, wanting to regain some independence but now you were afraid to fail.

You glanced up at Haymitch who was nervously watching you. He had been reluctant when the doctor said you could try walking again, saying it was too early but you had a suspicion that he liked that you were so dependent on him for once. But you were itching for some self-worth so you slid off the bed, making hesitant contact with the floor. Once you began placing your weight on your legs you felt them shake slightly but nothing you couldn’t handle. Haymitch, however, was immediately at your side, taking our arm to hold your weight.

“Haymitch, I’m fine,” you insisted.

“I know but if you fall and tear your stitches-”

“I’m *fine,” you insisted, a sense of finality in your voice.

“Okay,” he agreed, raising his free hand in surrender. He slowly released your other hand, allowing you to settle your weight on your legs. You felt a full ache in your hips and lower torso due to inactivity and the surgery but carried on nonetheless.

After a couple minutes of walking the shaking had gone away as your body quickly recovered it’s previous strength. “See?” you said smugly to your husband and your stride became more normal.

“You know we’re on the same team, right?”

“I still win,” you replied.

Unfortunately as soon as you were well enough to walk around they started forcing you into therapy.

“So, Y/N, how are you?” the therapist, Conrad, asked you, a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m fine,” you answered shortly. You knew he was just doing his job but you didn’t need therapy. You’ve been going through the same shit over and over again for the better part of a decade and were doing fine.

“Y/N, I understand you’ve just been freed from the prison Snow put you in long before he literally put you in a cell but you should still talk about it.” You didn’t say anything, just stared at him. “The Capitol also tried other, psychological torture. Starvation, sleep deprivation, that’s all in your file but I can tell they cut off your hair too.” You felt the urge to reach for your choppy hair but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Out of all the things they could do to you why do you think they chose to go after your hair?” You still refused to speak. “Y/N I can’t count this session or even end it if you don’t say anything.”

“So you’re bargaining for my compliance?” you challenged. “Just like they did with food and sleep?”

“No, I-”

“You wanna know about my hair? The Capitol guys didn’t like fucking a bag of bones that couldn’t stay awake long enough for them to make me beg them to stop as they hurt me. So they decided to continue to punish me by cutting off my hair while still keeping it long enough to keep me pretty.”

“Y/N, this is a safe space-”

“Why do you keep saying my name?” you yelled.

“To remind you that you’re human. You have worth and an identity. You’re not just your body.”

You rolled your eyes. “Trust me, I haven’t lost any self worth. I may have complied to survive and keep Haymitch alive but don’t think I let them turn me into a mindless slave.”

“Haymitch,” Conrad said, jotting a note. “Tell me about your relationship.”

“Why do we need to discuss him?”

“Because he seems to be the only thing you care about.”

“I care about other things,” you said defensively.

“But he’s the first you’ve mentioned by name that I didn’t bring up first. So tell me, what’s your relationship like in your most difficult times?”

“You wanna know what he’s like in the worst moments of my life? He was there for me. Do you think I’d be with him this long if he was an asshole?”

“Well he did mentor you and he was the only person in 12 who could possibly relate to you at the time.” You rolled your eyes, getting angry. “I think you should try to find an identity outside of your relationship.”

“I’m done. Tell the doctors to either get me a new therapist or stop sessions entirely. I’m not talking to someone who badmouths my husband.” And with that, you stormed out, heading to your and Haymitch’s dorm.

Haymitch had had his own dorm but since you were married they allowed you to have a two bunk dorm. You both had insisted that you wouldn’t need another bunk but they moved you anyways so the other bunk was just another seating area.

As you entered you found Haymitch sitting up on the bunk, reading. “Hey, how was-” But you ignored him, just climbing onto the bed, cuddling into his chest. He hummed, realizing what must’ve happened. “Hmm, that good huh?” he asked sarcastically.

You hadn’t been allowed to do much besides meet with Conrad. They had refused to get you a different counselor so you refused to be cooperative no matter how long he held you in his office.

The doctors also checked up on you frequently as rumors of invading the Capitol spread through 13. Katniss had gone out a couple times on “missions.” One of which was in 2 where she was shot. Fortunately Cinna had the foresight to make her suit one fit for combat so she was fine aside from a few bruised ribs.

When you went to visit her it was just after Johanna had. “You ever had the wind knocked out of you like that?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Never,” she admitted. “Everyone saw me just collapse like a dead body,” she groaned, covering her face.

“Well yes but everyone is eating up the ‘The Mockingjay survived a bullet’ thing.”

“You should’ve been the Mockingjay, or Johanna. Neither of you would’ve fallen.”

“Well I can believe that for Johanna but trust me, I’m not superhuman. Besides, men aren’t threatened by you once they’ve seen you naked,” you admitted.

Katniss hummed for a second, basking in the haunted look in your eye. “Well I think Haymitch is still pretty intimidated by Johanna.”

You laughed at the memory in the elevator. “Yeah well Johanna’s a little different.” You took a breath. “All those men who tried to destroy me… I just wanna put a knife through each and every one of their throats. I never let myself be angry at them because it would make the situation so much more unbearable but now… all I can picture is the life leaving them.”

“So why don’t you? You’re not the Mockingjay. Go to the Capitol with the others.”

“I’m not cleared to fight. Too many injuries. Besides Haymitch would insist of coming and he’s still getting used to being sober. He couldn’t fight.”

“I couldn’t bring Peeta out there either,” she admitted.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor, admiring Finnick and Annie’s first dance as a married couple. You were happy for them, they had been through so much it was nice to see them get their happy ending.

As the bridesmaids and groomsmen were called to the floor you reluctantly let Haymitch pull you to the dance floor along with Finnick, Annie, Katniss, Gale, and a few others. “So, you ever think about having a big wedding like this?” Haymitch asked you.

You gave him a look. “Getting married with a bunch of strangers in a bunker in the middle of a war? I much prefer our little elopement.”

Haymitch smiled. “Me too,” he said sweetly. “At least our wedding had booze.”

A/N sorry if the tone felt rushed. It’s hard to write about Mockingjay because it’s the most complicated book/movie and it focuses so heavily on Katniss and the things only Katniss can do so filling in the gaps is difficult

Part XII | Masterlist | Part XIV

#Haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #THG #The Hunger Games #the hunger games x reader

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago

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Spooky Requests: Watching Charlie Brown Halloween with either Eddie or Steve...I'm not picky. <3

.... porque no los dos? jk jk but seriously i had fun with this even if we lost the plot a little bit. thank you jo ily very dearly, and apologize for how out of hand this little request got. also, fun fact. i've never seen charlie brown halloween. who's gonna change that this halloween season hmmmm

warnings: none! just lowkey idiots in love, some pining, the usual

pairing: steddie x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k+

“I can’t believe neither of you idiots have ever seen this classic! You both love Halloween.”

Steve Harrington on a mission was a sight to behold. You were impressed, honestly. He had only found out about the crime, as he was calling it, of you and Eddie having never seen It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! that morning. And here he was, not even a full twenty-four hours later, having pulled together an impromptu movie night for the three of you to rectify the atrocities admitted.

“I told you, Stevie,” Eddie lounges on the couch, already comfortable in his sweatpants and Halloween socks you had bought for him last year. One of the seasonal blankets Steve magically had hiding away in his apartment was already draped across his lap as he picked at the small pumpkins decorating the fabric, “I’m more of a horror movie Halloween buff. Gore, ghosts, slashers – the good stuff.”

“Gross,” Steve absent-mindedly calls in response from the kitchen. You’re perched on the arm of the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, scowling as his feet peek out from under the blanket and he wiggles his sock-clad toes at you.

Gross, you mouth in repetition at Eddie, not mocking Steve but instead insulting Eddie’s feet that he happily stretches across what should be yours and Steve’s seats.

He raises his eyebrows as you both hear a cabinet in the kitchen opening loudly. Eddie’s eyes don’t leave your face as he yells over his shoulder, “Everything okay in there, Charlie Brown?”

“Har, har,” Steve sarcastically replies, but only after a slightly concerning, long pause.

“I’m gonna go help him,” you whisper, finally standing and swatting at Eddie’s legs, “And when I get back, I expect my seat to be free of your smelly, sweaty feet.”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie leans his head back in laughter as you walk past him, rolling your eyes, “You know you love the stink, bab-”

He doesn’t get to finish the pet name as you reach out for his sorry excuse of a bun, giving a sharp tug that has him gasping. His hands are quick to wrap around the back of your knees, nearly tripping you. A small dispute begins, all slapping hands with no intention of inflicting real pain as Eddie lifts up properly, grinning brilliantly at the antics.

Steve enters the kitchen doorway at the sound of the rustling to find you with both of Eddie’s wrists clutched between your hands, you leaning down to glare at him as he continues to look up with his boyish smirk. He can smirk all he wants, but it doesn’t distract from the glowing flush of his cheeks, all the awe in his eyes. It’s almost as fruitless to hide as your own secret enjoyment of his pest-like behavior.

“Am I… interrupting something?” Steve awkwardly asks, shifting on his feet.

You open your mouth to say no, absolutely not, but Eddie beats you to the punchline, “Actually, yes. Someone here thinks it’s funny to pull my hair before buying me dinner.”

Sudden shyness, smothering embarrassment, floods your system as you quickly drop Eddie’s wrists. He revels in your reaction, dimples flashing as he reaches out once more to grab onto your thighs.

You’re too quick for him this time. Stepping outside of his reach effortlessly as you try to catch your breath. Damn him.

Eddie Munson is a flirtatious tease. It’s in his blood; he is a pest, he is a flirt, and he is one of two absolute banes of your existence.

The other just happens to still stand shocked in the kitchen doorway.

“Do you need any help with snacks?” you grumble as you quickly shove past Steve and into the kitchen. Your gaze stays down, unable to look at either of the boys in the eyes for a moment as you head straight to where Steve has placed a bowl of popcorn.

Some sort of silent exchange surely must be occurring behind you between them, but you don’t bother with glancing over your shoulder to confirm it.

“Hey,” Steve finally follows behind you, grabbing the bowl of candy to your right, “Is everything alright?”

Yeah, totally alright. Just feel like my heart could burst out of my chest every time the two of you tease me like that. Just hate the way I wish the insinuations held more weight. Just really, really wish I wasn’t so hopelessly infatuated with my two best friends. It’s fine. Just peachy. Totally alright.

You forgo the internal dialogue spilling out into the air between the two of you, only shrugging and saying, “Fine. Why?”

“Just making sure,” Steve plays it off as nonchalant.

Maybe you should have spied on their private interaction. You’d assumed it was just joking glances or further teasing words exchanged, but maybe it had been something more. Something serious – concern for you, possibly.

You really hope you hadn’t hurt Eddie’s feelings with the way you’d escaped the mortifying scene so quickly. It’d put a slight damper on what was clearly just meant to be a nice, comforting night filled to the brim with Halloween nostalgia.

Steve clears his throat as you pick up the popcorn bowl and face him, face contemplative over words not quite forming on his open lips.

“Are you alright?” you question now, brows furrowing and hills of wrinkles forming between them.

He stares directly at them for a second, more careful consideration, before whatever war raging in his mind comes to a standstill, “Can I ask you a question?”

Oh, no. That’s never a good question to hear from one of your guy friends. Even with pining, assumingly unrequited crushes aside.

“Sure,” you try to keep your voice steady, even adding a casual shrug to mask any signs of anxiety creeping in, “Ask away.”

Is he about to ask if I have a crush on Eddie? Would I even admit I have a crush on Eddie? If I admitted to my crush on Eddie, would it be awkward to follow it up with an ‘Oh, but, hey! I also have a crush on you! No biggie!’?

There was a good reason you’d never approached either boy about your feelings. Confusion. All the feelings were a confusing, tangled, head-ache inducing pain to navigate. Easier to swallow them down and lock them tightly in your chest than to rain down devastation on a perfectly good friendship trio.

“Is there…” Steve pauses, licking his lips nervously, moving the bowl of candy from one hand to the other as if trying to procrastinate finishing his question, “Is there something going on between you and Eddie?”

Oh.

Well, it’s certainly not the type of embarrassment you expected.

“What?” you laugh skittishly, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like… are you two dating? Or, I don’t know – is there anything going on there?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Why are you avoiding?”

You both hit a stand-still, staring at each other with wide eyes. Your pupils are blown with fear of the exposure of your best kept secret, or at least half of it, but Steve’s seem to shine with something more. Like he knows something you don’t.

“I’m not avoiding,” you choke out, “Nothing’s happening between us. He’s always a flirt, you know this. Just last week, he was making jokes with you about how you could spit in his m-”

“Don’t remind me,” Steve cuts you off, cringing slightly, “That was gross. He was way too committed to that bit when he started trying to spit in my mouth.”

“You egged him on.”

“He ruined my appetite for a perfectly good strawberry milkshake.”

“You literally egged him on,” you laugh a little, glad for the subject change and that the spotlight was now on Steve, “Kept telling him he wouldn’t. You should know better than that by now.”

Steve only shrugs and begins to walk out of the kitchen, you following right behind.

He can avoid the topic all he wants, just as you tried to pathetically avoid the topic of there being anything between you and Eddie, but it doesn’t erase the fact that you’d never seen Steve Harrington blush before that night.

Maybe he was asking if you two were a thing out of jealousy. And oh, how ironic it would be if you had to sit back and watch Steve grow the balls to do something about his feelings for Eddie before you could. The two men that drove you insane, ending up dating.

The Universe is cruel, but you hope it isn’t that cruel.

“Took you two long enough,” Eddie dramatically sighs when you two re-enter the living room. He’s still splayed out across the couch, feet digging into the cushions as if for emphasis of him ignoring your request, “Thought I was going to starve to death out here.”

“You weren’t going to starve to death,” Steve scoffs. When he slaps Eddie’s shins, the older boy finally moves his legs, sitting up as the blanket falls partially off his lap.

“We can’t know that for sure.”

“I’m very sure you would have survived another five minutes.”

“Five whole minutes?” Eddie gasps, not letting the theatrics drop for one moment, “Jesus Christ, what the Hell were you two doing in there? Sucking each other’s faces off?”

Son of a fucking bitch.

You silently send up a plea to whatever greater power may be controlling the Universe, quietly insisting that both sides of Eddie Munson’s pillow are deathly hot tonight.

Normally, you could handle all the teases, all the innuendos. Hell, you’d even been able to handle a sudden influx of the behavior these last few weeks from both of them. So you can’t quite pinpoint why they all seem to get to you tonight. Maybe it’s the way they seem specifically targeted at only you, none of Eddie’s suggestive comments being spared for Steve tonight. Or maybe, it’s the way both boys seem to lock their gazes on you after each one, waiting patiently as they anticipate your reaction. Gauging the way your eyes widen, drinking in the way your breath quickens. Like predators with prey, it just feels like they’re toying with you.

You’re kind of grateful that you’re not watching one of Eddie’s normal slasher films tonight. At least Charlie Brown isn’t going to jumpscare you into one of them embarrassingly.

You haven’t responded yet, and Steve is clearly not about to entertain Eddie’s comment nor deny it shyly as he usually would. So you take a big breath, put on your brave face, and smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you curse the shake in your syllables, “I can officially confirm that Stevie is the best kisser in all of Hawkins. Congratulations.”

You end in flourish, matching Eddie’s performance with your own as you set the popcorn down on the coffee table and bow. When you look up, Steve is flush as Eddie smirks.

Again, not what you had expected. An eye roll from Steve, maybe some shock from Eddie at you keeping him on his toes.

The only person being kept on their toes tonight, it seems, is you.

Steve settles into the opposite end of the couch from Eddie before you can even fathom choosing a seat.

Damn it. Middle seat it is, then. Definitely not having an internal panic attack about this. Not at all freaking out.

The movie is already in the TV as you plop down between the boys, careful to not make direct contact with either. At this point, so much as a brush from their knee against yours would be equivalent to a terrible electric shock. You’re not in the mood for further teasing about being so skittish, or Eddie berating you for being scared of a movie like Charlie Brown.

You should have known better.

Eddie notices immediately, and instead of leaving it alone, he comments on it. Bastard.

“Why so far away?” he starts off teasing, throwing half of the pumpkin blanket he was using over one of your thighs. Immediately, his body heat becomes your own, and you scorn the way you want to lean into it. Press into his side, succumb to whatever shitty drugstore cologne he was wearing and the way his last cigarette is probably lingering to that stupid band t-shirt, “You’re not scared that my smelly, sweaty feet are gonna bite, are you?”

“They could,” you blandly reply.

Eddie and Steve share a look behind your head.

Your arms cross protectively over your chest, and you know it looks as if you’re pouting, but you swear you aren’t. You swim in the denial, telling yourself that the sourness in your mood is only a result of being on edge. It was just a bad week for your childish crushes – the quicker you get the stick out of your ass, the quicker you can return to normal, and the quicker you can ignore all your desperate temptations. All those silly butterflies and disgusting chills you get when Steve brushes up against you to grab something that’s just out of your reach, when Eddie throws an arm around your shoulders and his curls tickle your cheeks.

You’ll get over it. It’s fine. A perfectly cozy autumn night is no time to throw a pity party.

When you glance at Eddie as Steve is clicking his way through the movie’s menu, you catch him already looking at you. There’s no trace of his usual joking or relaxed boyish features. He looks genuinely scared, genuinely concerned that he’s upset you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, straight to the point once he notices you looking back at him.

Immediately, you’re shaking your head.

You’re not mad at him. You’re mad about him. You’re mad that his hair looks so soft, and you always wish for more sudden vulnerable moments where he lets his guard down and your fingers detangle the curls. You’re mad that his lips look very kissable, even in the dead of winter when they crack terribly and he arrogantly turns down all your offers of lip balm. You’re mad that every time he laughs hard enough that he lets his head fall to your shoulder, a warmth impossible to shake settles in your bones.

And you’re mad for all the same reasons when it comes to Steve.

It is ridiculous. Stupid, reckless, foolish. Best friends don’t envision taking each other on cute fall dates. Best friends don’t look for every possible excuse to touch one another, to flirt with one another, to just be near one another.

You’ve fucked yourself over, really. Should’ve had half the mind to not fall for not only one, but both of your guy best friends. Idiot.

“I’m not mad,” you hoarsely whisper back as Steve frowns when his remote doesn’t work on the TV, standing to go manually hit play, “I’m sorry, Eds. I’ve just- it’s been a shitty week with work and stuff. I’ve been kind of a dick tonight. I’m sorry.”

Eddie visibly relaxes, moving to lay his arm on the couch behind your head. You do have half the mind to not freeze up at the proximity just as the side of his thigh presses against yours.

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. Do not fuck this up.

That giddy child within you that wants to write their initials with yours in a wobbly, pathetic goddamn heart is jumping with joy. Idiot.

“Don’t apologize for that, sweetheart,” oh, fuck him for that endearment, dripping with adoration. You hate it solely for not being the type of adornment you wish you could afford, “Tonight’s a perfect distraction. Just us, a fuck ton of candy, and Charlie Brown with his big ass pumpkin.”

“It’s called the great pumpkin,” Steve corrects as he returns to the couch.

“To-may-toe, to-maw-toe,” Eddie brushes off, waving the hand not resting behind your head currently.

As Steve sits down, you can’t tell if it’s accidental or deliberate that he chooses to sit several inches closer to you. Suddenly, both thighs are now pressed up against each boy at either side of you.

“Whatever,” he huffs, motioning across you for the blanket from Eddie, “Just share the blanket and shut up.”

And despite being in your own personal Hell, the first hour or so of the cartoon goes fairly smoothly. Normal joking, plenty of Eddie’s manners going out the window as he makes comments through mouthfuls of popcorn, subtle passings of Steve unwrapping your favorite candies before handing them over to you without a word. It’s nice. For a moment, it’s the perfect fall night.

“That’s you,” Steve reaches a hand across you to jab Eddie in the shoulder before pointing out Pig-Pen in his ghost costume on the screen, scribbled dirt around him bouncing about.

“Excuse me?” Eddie scoffs, leaning forward to properly glare at Steve. But there’s no hate there, only gentle joking and enjoyment flaming away behind dark brown irises, “I’ll have you know I showered for this, Harrington. Can you say the same?”

You laugh quietly, stuck in the middle of the arguing boys as your eyes stay glued to the screen.

“You showered? What a miracle.”

“Bite me, Charlie Brown.”

You finally pull your eyes from the screen of the kids excitedly sharing what treats they received, trying to not smile at the iconic delivery of a deflated I got a rock as you peer up at Steve’s pouting lips.

He’s pretty, even this close. Faded freckles that will rest for the dreary months until the sun beckons them back to the surface come summer, full brows that still manage to frame his honeyed eyes even as he furrows them deeply.

“I can’t hear the movie over you idiots,” you whisper as he locks gazes with you, “Shut up and pass me another Reese’s cup, will you?”

You don’t have to ask twice. Steve leans down without protest and does as you ask, going so far as to once more tear away the orange wrapper before he places the peanut butter cup delicately in your waiting palm.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, honey.”

The words are more sincere than you’re prepared for. You know he means it as he looks at you with hazel eyes full of a desire, a longing, you’re not used to. Lashes fluttering, corners of his mouth pressing downward but not quite in discontent. He looks impossibly handsome without even trying. Effortlessly, he’s taking your breath away. You have to remind your chest to rise and fall, to remind yourself that this is nothing more than a movie night with friends.

Be normal. Act normal. This is normal.

Except you feel anything but normal when Eddie’s arm falls from the back of the couch and around your shoulders. A clearly intentional move attempted to be brushed off as an accidental action. His skin strikes against yours like a match against grain, and the slow embers they’d been stoking for weeks now erupt from you in a field of goosebumps following the chill running down your spine.

You don’t react.

Not when his thumb trails over the top of your shoulder in soft, sweeping motions. Not when Steve’s head eventually replaces Eddie’s hand on your shoulders as he succumbs to the week finally catching up to him, and you become entranced in the scent of his minty body wash clashing with the soft coconut of his shampoo. Not when your own heavy head smushes uncomfortably against Eddie’s biceps and your own snores join Steve’s in a symphony barely breaking over the volume of the sweet cartoon on the screen.

Eddie doesn’t wake either of you that night. Even when he really should. The three of you don’t finish the final thirty minutes of the movie, but it’s still the perfect fall night for all of you.

Maybe you’ll untangle your feelings for the two boys come winter.

—

“There’s no way you can lift that.”

“Fuck off, Harrington. Your pumpkin from last year was double this one in size.”

“And I was still able to pick it up. If you can’t carry it, we’re not getting it. Simple as that.”

Normally, you’d butt into Eddie and Steve’s arguments. Probably inject a comment about how it didn’t matter because there’s not a single pumpkin here that would ever be bigger than either of their heads — something sure to set them both off until you commanded their silence. Normally, you wouldn’t be so quiet.

But ever since the night of the Great Pumpkin, your mind has been restless enough to kill off any words before they can fall off your tongue.

A cycle of overthinking and overanalyzing has been haunting you for a week now. The memory of Eddie’s fingertips pressing into the ditches of your knees, and that particularly heartstopping look from Steve as he’d so sweetly referred to you as honey. You told yourself you’d get over it, and the morning after had even been close to normal. You’d all woken up with aches in your neck from that uncomfortable sleeping situation on Steve’s couch, and Steve had even offered to pay for you all to just get bagels from your favorite restaurant a block away rather than destroy his kitchen in a mission to make breakfast. Eddie had ordered everyone’s coffee just the way they liked it, you’d repeatedly pointed out cream cheese on both boys’ upper lips repeatedly, and it had all been easy.

And then you went home. And once the first nervous replay of the night began, it turned into an endless cycle.

“The pumpkin has to be big for the design I’m doing, Steve,” Eddie continues to argue as he stands over a larger pumpkin on display. The boys had thought it’d be a good idea to visit the pumpkin patch today.

They’d been right, of course. The weather was beautiful, crisp and dipping low enough to warrant cheesy fall attire. It’s the type of weather where you'd been able to break out a flannel and beanie, all without overheating. Families were walking through the small farm’s selection of pumpkins, children’s calls of glee could be heard from across the bales of hay, a distinct smell of cider off in the distance. The scene was set for a perfect autumn day.

Except for your raging mind. That, unfortunately, had been killing the mood.

Steve looks at you desperately, a few steps away from the two of them. Just enough space that if their petty argument became too embarrassing, you could easily convince someone you didn’t know them, “Please talk some sense into him.”

You hesitate before you finally give in and walk closer to Eddie. Your eyes focus on the oversized pumpkin rather than him. It’s too dangerous to fully drink him in; between his red flannel peaking out beneath his leather jacket and your beanie he had stolen to tuck over his own curls after complaining at the cooler weather, he looked too inviting. Too soft. Rosy cheeks and rosy lips called to you like a siren prepared to drown you in all the want that had begun to brew within your body since the movie night.

“It’s a… big pumpkin,” you state in obvious observation. Eddie tries to work you with his doe eyes instantly, and you hate the way you can feel it working, “Steve’s right. If you can’t carry it to the car, how are we getting it into the house?”

“Steve’s strong.”

At the mention of his name, Steve crosses his arms. And damn him, because the way his own brown corduroy jacket is straining over his biceps also has you dizzy with yearning, “I am not carrying that fucking thing into the house.”

“Why not? You’re a big, strong man-“ Eddie starts, almost tauntingly with a wicked grin, making you finally step in between them.

“The bigger the pumpkin, the bigger the mess,” you point out. Steve nods in solidarity, but Eddie is obviously unconvinced, “Eds, I’m not cleaning up all those pumpkin guts this year.”

A look of betrayal crosses his face, mingling with long lashes and faded dimples, “I swear I’ll clean up after myself. I wouldn’t do you like that, baby.”

There it is. You’d gone this entire day so far without any of Eddie’s usual flirtatious approaches. It had almost seemed like the two men had finally reigned themselves in.

Clearly, they hadn’t. They were just waiting for the right time.

“Pack up the puppy dog eyes, Munson. You’re a terrible liar,” you mumble out, pulling your own jacket tighter around your body as you move closer to Steve. He hadn’t started any onslaughts of flirting. Yet.

The moment you get near him, he wordlessly drops his faux irritation at Eddie and opens his arms, beckoning you to step into his space. You almost hesitate, but it was normal. The three of you were always touchy, and it was never a problem before.

Maybe if it had been, you wouldn’t be in your current predicament.

It’s clear he had taken a shower before the outing as your nose smashes against his t-shirt, the clear scent of his minty body wash and coconut shampoo replacing the air of fall around you. His arms are quick to wrap around your shoulders, only encouraging your body to press further into him. And you let him, because he’s warm, and despite all your teasing of Eddie’s complaints about the weather, you agreed that the chill was particularly unforgiving today. Especially in the shady patches void of sunlight.

The only real sunlight seemed to emit from the boy wrapped around you. He’s all tousled shades of golden and leftover fatigue from the early waking to make it out to the pumpkin patch at opening. As he hums into your embrace, you choose to just appreciate it, revel in it.

Eddie is pouting behind you, but out of sight – out of mind.

“I’m getting this pumpkin,” he says decidedly, “Fuck both of you.”

“Would you say it’s your great pumpkin?” you murmur against Steve, letting your eyes close, wondering if it’s possible to fall asleep standing up in this position.

Only Steve laughs at your joke, and you can’t tell if it’s because only he found it funny or if it’s because only he heard your reference to the unfinished movie from the night before.

It doesn’t matter, because the entire moment is interrupted when an older woman who had been bearing witness to the entire interaction suddenly speaks up.

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest couple?”

All the warmth leaves your body, each muscle slowly stiffening as Steve tenses. You almost convince yourself that she wasn’t speaking to you, that there was another couple standing somewhere nearby that were currently gathered in embrace for her to coo at.

And then Steve answers her, “Us? Oh, we, uh-”

“Aren’t they?” Eddie interrupts, mischief dripping off each word as you slowly lift your head and open your eyes back to the grey day, “So in love it makes me sick to my stomach.”

Steve coughs up a few more syllables of protest, but Eddie has already done the damage. When you turn to face the lady, she’s wearing a brilliant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as she looks at you and Steve in glee.

“Oh, I still remember that feeling,” she continues, a cloud of pure nostalgia glazing over her eyes for a moment before she looks to Eddie, “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll find it one day too, just like your friends.”

Eddie snorts. Easily mistaken as possible annoyance, inherent jealousy. Only you and Steve know better.

“We…” you begin, trailing off when you look up at Steve and see him brimming with hope. You expected discomfort, you expected irritation at whatever game Eddie was playing – you didn’t expect optimism at the prospect of you two being perceived as a couple. The ending to your sentence dies on your tongue, and you choose a polite response instead, “Thank you.”

Was there any real harm in letting some little old lady believe you two were in love? Probably not, especially considering the way she lights up and your faux admission satisfies her. An exchange of have a good day sends her on her way, and she never catches the way Eddie hunches over in laughter once she’s out of earshot. She doesn’t catch Steve Harrington blushing red or the way his arm swings out to smack Eddie in his chest, and she never notices the way you stand in the same place Steve left you, cold and confused and… disappointed?

No harm, no foul.

It was all a joke, anyways.

And that’s all it will ever be, even as you linger back and watch your boys continue their banter, all the while a hollow ache questioning just why the prospect of all that puppy love and youthful oblivion is so funny between the boys. Why the idea of one of them being yours, is so damn funny.

You kind of felt ridiculous. Even more ridiculous than Linus had been, waiting in that pumpkin patch for some great pumpkin to appear. You wish it were just silly children tales and blind hope at play. Your great pumpkin was a little more twisted, a little more complicated; an impossible choice, a gnawing conundrum you will never unravel.

If you could make a choice, it might be easier.

But why would ever need to make a choice when all it will ever be to the two boys who have come to plague your every waking thought as nothing more than a joke?

Eddie gets his great pumpkin, and Steve ends up carrying it into the house that day. You’re the only one to return home with more than just empty arms.

—

Halloween parties are the perfect recipe for disaster.

Spiked cider, struggling fog machines, loud replays of Monster Mash, and a small crowd of half-assed costumes. Every other year, your friends had thrown this type of ‘spooky’ themed get-together, and you would enjoy every single moment of it. Quite literally, every single moment – from the terrible and impromptu karaoke sessions to the ridiculous apple-bobbing contests that Argyle always excelled at. It was always a night full of light, a night full of laughter. Something to leave your chest feeling fizzy as it would always end surrounded by all your favorite people, particularly Eddie and Steve.

This year, it feels like more of a burden.

You’re feeling like something hollow, something monstrous – no costume required – as you stew in quiet misery for the first few hours. The movie night and the pumpkin patch visit have left you feeling something new. Something that had grown claws and growled to be recognized in all its painful yearning and pitiful pining.

Steve questioning you about having something more with Eddie had driven a knife into your chest, and the prospect of being seen as a couple with Steve had torn it free of your ribs. Not quite bleeding, but not quite healing, you’d been haunted by a series of what-ifs that stole away hours of sleep and any time of relaxation you’d normally seek as all the leaves changed colors.

What if you wanted something more with Eddie?

What if you wished that you and Steve were a couple?

What if you could never make a choice?

The allusion of a choice to be made still dangled on the forefront of your buzzing cortex. It still felt just as ridiculous as the first time you’d realized you’d been experiencing more than platonic feelings for your best friends; like a child outside a candy store, without money and without hope to go home with any of the sweets that made your mouth water. Everyone could see you staring in through the windows, you swore they could, and they were probably silently mocking the way you drooled. It was stupid.

It was putting a real damper on your entire mood.

“What’s up with you?” Robin questions finally as she walks up to where you sit on the balcony of her shared apartment with Nancy. At some point, you’d decided the frigid chill of the night would be a better place to soak in all your misery.

“What do you mean?” you blandly ask, not even looking up from the railing your eyes had focused on.

Robin joins you on the garden couch, shifting the flimsy seating a bit from the force of her throwing herself down dramatically, “I mean, why are you out here all alone? And why have you been so quiet tonight? Did something happen?”

Straight to the point. One of the reasons you liked Robin – her lack of a filter was something you’d always seen as more of a gift rather than a curse.

“Nothing happened,” you shrug, head feeling light despite the storm that had been brewing for nearly the entire month now. Your fingertip trails around the rim of the now-warm bottle of cider you’d been nursing after chugging two previously. You wanted to be drunk. You wanted to down enough alcohol that you wouldn’t even remember Steve and Eddie’s names by the end of the night.

“You’re doing that thing they do in the movies,” Robin notes, finally making you look at her with raised eyebrows, “You know, where they say nothing’s wrong but it’s all… sad,” she waves her hands erratically through her ramble of an explanation, one hand clutching her own bottle of beer. You can see the condensation through the lowlights and simply know her adult equivalent of apple juice is far cooler than yours. Probably tastes better, too, “Like, something is obviously wrong, but you’re gonna make me work for the answer.”

You laugh under your breath. The silence is filled with static noises of night; you can still hear the chatter of your friend group and whatever Halloween-themed song they were playing over the speakers through the shut sliding door, an orchestra of insects hum their complaints through the dark apartment complex, a soft whistle of the fall breeze rustles all the trees lurking in the shadows.

She’s right. It’s dramatic, it’s stupid, it’s ridiculous – and she’s right.

You sigh out and feed into your theatrics as you fall back against the cushion of the couch, finally matching her slouch, “Have you ever watched the Charlie Brown Halloween special?”

“What?” she scoffs, no trace of rudeness in her remark but rather confusion, “You mean the one where all the kids are trick-or-treating, and that one weirdo is waiting for some magical pumpkin king with that other girl? What does that have to do with-”

“I feel like that weirdo,” you interrupt, staring straight ahead, “Like Linus. Just standing in a pumpkin patch and waiting for some great pumpkin that isn’t going to show. And I know I look silly, but a part of me really believes, y’know? I just can’t stop waiting for something to happen that might never-” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath. That wound in your chest, the one only you can see, throbs. Not bleeding, not healing. Just yearning as you correct yourself, “For something that won’t ever happen. Ever. There’s no great pumpkin, and I just end up looking like a fool.”

Robin’s silence is unnerving. No amount of sounds of the night can blanket over the discomfort begging to bubble over.

“I think I’m just drunk,” you try to save yourself, “I’m sorry, it’s dumb-”

“What’s your great pumpkin?” she asks carefully, “What are you waiting for?”

The alcohol must really be having an affect, because your loose lips are finally moving to their own accord.

“Eddie and Steve.”

She scrunches her face, “What about those dinguses?”

“They’re my great pumpkin.”

You’re clearly nonsensical as Robin shifts to lean forward, entering your blank line of sight, “Are you…. Like, you want them to get together? Sorry, I’m not really following here, Linus.”

The nickname almost makes you smile. Almost.

“I mean, not really,” you try to forage your brain for the right words to explain, but there’s no poetic way to put what’s been on your mind, “I like them. Both of them. Have for a while now, but it’s… it doesn’t really matter, anyways.”

You’re drunk enough to not hear the tapping on the sliding door. And if Robin does, she makes no move to react to it, still focused on you.

“You like both of those idiots? Oh, thank god,” she almost sounds relieved, and your head snaps to her direction.

You still don’t see the figure standing inside the doorway, moving to open the door.

“Thank God?” you laugh humorlessly, “I am not thanking God. It’s miserable, Robs. I like them both so fucking much, and I just- what am I supposed to do with that? They’re my best friends, and I should know better. Besides, liking two guys at once can never work out. What am I supposed to do? Shove them into a room with me and go, ‘oh, hey, I like both of you. And I can’t choose, so I’m just going to make you live with that. Also, Eddie, lay off the flirting, because it sort of makes my heart stop and my chest all tight. And Steve, please don’t call me honey, because it also makes me feel all terribly weird. But also neither of you ever stop either of those things, because I might keel over and die if I’m not receiving all your affections, platonic or otherwise.’”

Your admittance all comes out in one breath, saying exactly what you wish you could say to the two boys. You don’t care how foolish you sound to Robin right now – the cider has taken care of all your shame.

It’s just nice to say it outloud.

Very nice, in fact, until movement behind Robin catches your eye, and you realize you had not been alone during your ramble.

Eddie.

“Oh, fuck me,” the normally internal dialogue comes out as a sigh, eyes wide in stricken fear as Robin turns to face your own waking Hell.

“Welp,” Robin’s very helpful reaction tries to break the tension to no avail, “I… I think I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll- Yeah. I’m gonna go.”

She jumps up before you have the chance to reach out and stop her. Your hand aches to just wrap around her forearm, to beg her to not leave you alone to burn with all your shame and embarrassment, but she’s gone before you’ve even moved a muscle.

Her seat vacated, and in her absence, Eddie takes her place.

Kill me. Kill me now, please. Have mercy on me-

“So…” Eddie begins, fiddling with his hands as he looks down at his lap. In the shadows, you don’t see the ghost of a grin on his lips, “You like us?”

“If you’re about to make fun of me,” you state flatly, bristling in your seat, all liquid confidence beginning to evaporate, “I’d rather you save me the embarrassment, and just kill me. Make it quick and painless, please.”

All your pity partying was easier to swallow than this. You liked your brooding solitude far more than the acceptance that Eddie had just heard your very mortifying speech, liked the assumption that you might have been upset with the boys more than them knowing the truth.

Eddie throws his hands up in surrender, “Not making fun of you. I swear.”

“Well, if you’re about to reject me, can you also make that quick and painless?”

“Who said I was rejecting you?”

“I know it’s fucking weird and I just ruined everythin- wait, did you just say you’re not rejecting me?”

You were so convinced that the outcome would always be bloody, always painful and bitter, that you hadn’t prepared for this. You had a hundred and one speeches prepared about how you agreed with the boys, how you were all better off friends and how you would reassure them that in a few months’ time, you’d be able to get over the silly crushes.

There were no practiced words on the tip of your tongue for the instance in which they found out and reacted well.

Eddie continues to grin under the lowlight of the porch light, looking at you sideways, not a single glimpse of him running from this evident.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he repeats himself, shuffling a bit closer on the couch, “And I’m definitely not making fun of you.”

You’re a bit speechless still. He’s close enough that his shoulder brushes yours, his knee briefly bumping the side of yours in an attempt to get you to look at him. Like a moth to the flame, you dare to turn your head, to fully take in the proximity.

“You did hear everything I said, right?” you can imagine the way the scent of cider mingles with your breath as you whisper softly to him. You almost consider grabbing what’s left of your third, or fourth possibly, bottle and just chugging as you had done with your previous drinks.

But being drunk would be a penniless attempt. When Eddie is looking at you like this, there is no amount of alcohol that could combat the sobering effect he has on you. The chill in the air hadn’t done it, the lingering smell of a bonfire somewhere in the distance was futile – but those big, brown eyes shocked you right out of your inebriated state.

Endless. They were endless in entertainment, in bewitching, in calling out to the wound in your chest. The gash might even be bleeding finally at this point as your heart hammers and your bones threaten to break.

“Every. Single. Word,” his lips spread thinner as he punctuates each word, corners of his mouth upturning to impossible heights, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stop all my flirting? Because, by all means, I can. It would be a shame, though, considering I was right.”

You hardly notice the way you’re leaning in closer to him, “Right about what?”

When he meets you halfway, own body succumbing to the gravitational pull you possessed and had no idea of, you finally note the further lack of distance.

“Right about you liking us,” his breath hits your chin as he sighs, “Right about the fact that you don’t squirm every time I joke about kissing you because it makes you uncomfortable. At least, not in the way Steve always assumed,” he pauses, body slowly angling towards yours. The only symptom of his nerves you’re able to catch is the hard swallow, as if he’s keeping all his fears at bay before he continues, “I need to ask you something, and this time, it is not a joke.”

Maybe the creators of Charlie Brown should have let Linus drink. Then, he would have seen his great pumpkin, just as you were now.

“Ask away,” you expect it to come out as a stutter, to falter and trip over your request.

But you don’t. Even in your fuzzy state of mind, you’ve never been more sure of what Eddie is about to ask of you.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your reply is half an eager nod, half a pathetic mumble of please. The moment Eddie has your permission, his lips find yours, sour from cider and sweet from candy.

It’s better than your overactive imagination had been able to conjure the last few weeks – last few months. Once you two find some sort of broken stride, an exchange of lips and teeth and tongue that feels right, you almost scold yourself for having sat in fear for so long. You should be mulling over the way this wouldn’t end well, the way this was too good to be true, but you can’t. When your fingertips tangle up the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck, and his own hand rests gently around your throat as he pulls you closer, you don’t second guess anything.

You’re kissing Eddie. He knows you like him, knows you like Steve as well, and he’s kissing you.

Right around the time you’ve nearly found yourself in Eddie’s lap, and all the air in your lungs has been stolen, the sliding door to the balcony opens again. You don’t want to break apart from Eddie – you think you’d rather take another metaphorical knife to the chest than do so – but he’s quick to separate without giving you a choice.

If you weren’t so terrified of coming across as something too needy, a greedy animal full of whines of protest, your lips would have chased after him.

Instead, your eyes flutter back open to find Steve Harrington standing behind Eddie, eyes wide as they can go as he takes in the scene he’s walked into.

In an instant, you jump backwards, putting distance between yourself and Eddie as a symphony of curses ring through your mind like alarms, “Steve.”

Eddie has the nerve to merely smile.

“Nice of you to join us, big boy,” he calls casually over his shoulder as Steve walks further out onto the balcony. Your heart is still beating out of your chest, realizing what Steve had just witnessed.

You fucked up.

“Steve, I didn’t-” you start to try to defend yourself, but it feels a bit useless as he looks right at Eddie, almost as if awestruck.

“Robin came and got me, what the fuck happened?”

You wish you could wipe the floor with Eddie’s smugness, momentarily forgetting all the emotions he had just pulled from you with a simple kiss as he smirks up at Steve, “I was right.”

You try to anticipate Steve’s reply. A play by play of a fight that might break out, a rejection still waiting to happen, a punchline that had yet to land.

His lack of reply is almost worse.

He glances down at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity as all the hurried energy leaves him in slow spurts. His shoulders drop in relaxation, near relief, and a soft smile plays at his lips. Once curled fists now unfurl, subtly swiping away sweaty palms on the sides of his denim-covered jeans. Every action, every smoothing over in his anxiety, sends you sinking deeper into the cushions.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you mutter, shrinking under his gaze.

“Because he was right,” Steve takes a slow step forward, still underplaying his smile, “Because that shithead was right, and you like us.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that they had discussed this. It was never a possibility in your mind that they’d also been running over scenarios, considering their own what-ifs all the while you’d been losing your mind.

But it makes sense.

Why else would they have continued to flirt with you this way? Why else would there have been such a steady progression in how far they were willing to take all the jokes, all the bits? Months of memories flash before you, and the final click into place occurs when Steve drops into what little space was left on the other side of you. It forces you to scooch over, press even closer to Eddie, leaving you to be completely sandwiched between the two men tightly.

There’s still a little bit of bravery left somewhere in you. Just a spark, but enough to have you looking at Steve with determination.

“Hey, Steve?”

“What’s up, honey?”

Eddie’s squeak of laughter doesn’t go unnoticed. But you refuse to react and lose this momentum.

“Can you kiss me?”

If you were reading this entire scenario correctly, drunk or not, the answer would be yes.

No choices necessary. You could have your cake, and eat it too.

Steve looks past you, over your shoulder and at Eddie, “You’re drunk, honey-”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insist, “I promise, I want this. Sober or not. Just…” you falter finally, taking a deep breath. Steve’s cologne, Eddie’s last cigarette lingering on his jacket, and the crisp autumn air fill your lungs. “One kiss. Nothing more. I swear.”

“You really gonna make her beg, Harrington?”

“Fuck off,” Steve’s softness when it comes you isn’t extended to Eddie, sending a warning glance the other boy’s way, “The only reason you’re not on my shit list is because you’re also plastered.”

“I’m not plastered,” you and Eddie say in sync.

Just like that, the high-rise tension has broken. Eddie rests his chin on your shoulder, clearly no longer afraid of the closeness that had become a normal before the ‘unfortunate’ overhearing of your admission. His arms wrap around your waist, pout on his lips as his temple leans against your hair.

“You’re lucky you’re both cute, you know that?” Steve muses, shaking his head softly.

You’re both cute. The sweet amusement nearly stitches up the once gaping hole in your chest immediately.

“You gonna kiss her or not?” Eddie’s voice is loud in your ear despite his low volume, chin moving against the apex of your shoulder, “Because if not, my lips are growing awfully cold-”

Steve’s hand lifts and thumps Eddie’s forehead immediately, loud enough for you to hear the impact as he leans off of you dramatically, letting out a groan of complaint.

You almost turn, a bit too eager to witness theatrics you’d normally roll your eyes at, when Steve’s palms cradle your cheeks with unexpected softness.

“Hey, look at me, yeah?” he barters. And his wish is your command, your attention wholly his as you look at him worriedly. Although the sentiment of him hesitating to kiss you while drunk was sincerely endearing, you don’t know if you could handle any form of rejection right now.

You bite your lip, and Steve’s thumb is quick to come and tug gently below your mouth, forcing your bottom lip to be freed from between your teeth.

“One kiss,” he says sternly, brows furrowing, “I’ll kiss you, mostly because I’m a selfish bastard who’s terrified you won’t ask again when sober, but we are talking about this in the morning,” he leans back a little, and looks at Eddie pointedly, “All of us.”

“Stop stalling and kiss h-”

Eddie never gets to finish his sentence.

Steve kisses differently than Eddie, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s more sober or if that’s just how it is. But it’s something you’d like to learn; you’d like to memorize the patterns of both their lips, the differences in the touch of their hands as they pull you in deeper, the comparison of Steve’s stable and sure hands versus Eddie’s shaking and coloused ones.

Steve is a generous kisser, a follower at your beck and call. He lets you set the pace and lead the way. You control when the two of you pull back for air, when his teeth graze at your bottom lip, when he lets out soft and pretty sighs into the kiss. He’s all sweetness, none of the sour you’d tasted on Eddie’s tongue to be found.

Just like honey.

How fitting.

When Steve finally takes an inch of control and releases you, formally ending the kiss and leaving you just as breathless as Eddie had, you swear you’re seeing stars. You’re dizzy with want. You wish you hadn’t chugged those beers, you nearly consider getting down on your knees and begging both men for more. They’ve given you what you’d craved, and more, but you’re a selfish animal. Prepared to dig in your claws and call for more than you bargained for.

“One kiss,” he reminds you when you lean in for a second. He’s smiling like he might let you get away with it if you really pushed for it, though.

You play innocent instead, leaning back until your back nearly bumps into Eddie’s chest.

“One kiss,” you nod, fighting back a smile as you look at the man before you.

A great pumpkin indeed.

“You know, I don’t have a one kiss policy,” Eddie sighs from behind you, and you can feel the way he throws himself back on the couch.

When Steve rolls his eyes, you truly believe he’s about to only offer a snarky reply rather than what he does instead.

He places a warm palm on the center of your back, encouraging you to lean forward with care before he’s reaching out for the collar of Eddie’s shirt and dragging behind you for a quick kiss.

You nearly break your neck just to witness the tail end of it all.

“There, happy?”

Eddie is just as shocked at you, flushing scarlet all the way down his neck, sinking beneath the collar of his t-shirt.

“I- Uh-” he stutters out, at a loss for words, “Y-Yeah. I- Yeah, very happy.”

“Good,” Steve seems satisfied as he guides you back into place, practically manhandling you to lay back in your seat so that your shoulders are comfortably pressed to both his and Eddie’s side, “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to go back in there, enjoy the party with our friends, and you two drunk idiots are going to stay out of trouble. And then come tomorrow morning, we’re going to get breakfast, deal with your absolute monsters of hangovers, and… talk about this,” he pauses and vaguely gestures at the three of you with a small smile, “Capiche?”

“Aye, aye, capt’n,” Eddie murmurs as you whisper back an echo of “capiche”.

“Yeah?” Steve questions again, catching your eye with a smug smile.

“Yeah,” you nod, speaking up a bit louder as you decide to take one last daring risk, “I do have one last request, though.”

“Hit me, honey.”

“You know, she allegedly hates when you call her hon-”

“Shut up,” Steve cuts Eddie off, focus on you and only you, “Ignore him. What’s your request?”

You look between the two boys, realization settling heavily as you recognize that this is real. You had yearned, you had pined, you had wanted until every nerve-ending in your body had ached, and now? Now you have them. Technicalities aside, you had gotten all that you had craved.

And to think you’d assumed you’d be waiting until winter to unravel all that now sat in the palm of your hands.

“Can we have a movie night?” you ask, a bit meeker than intended, “Maybe… I dunno… finish that Charlie Brown movie?”

Eddie’s laughter from behind you is music to your ears, and the smile that spreads across Steve’s cheeks should be hung up in a museum for your perusing whenever you please.

“Yeah, of course we can,” Steve assures you, a hand coming down on your knee, “Right, Eds?”

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs. His arm is on your shoulders, just like that first night, and this time you let the match ignite.

Honestly, the flames had engulfed you long ago. You just wish it hadn’t taken you so long to succumb to their warmth reflected in the brown eyes of the boys on either side of you.

The three of you do rejoin the party. Finding a bit of enjoyment now that you aren’t drowning in your pity party. Steve is right in his prediction of the hangovers – it might be one of the worst you’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing – but after a very sincere talk with your boys (including an only slightly grumpy Eddie, it’s worth it.

And when the three of you do finish your movie night, this time shamelessly cuddling up and sneaking kisses between sweet scenes, you can’t help but giggle at Linus finally seeing his Great Pumpkin.

At least you know yours is the real deal, especially when Eddie is the one to fall asleep this time in the final ten minutes, his head in your lap and Steve’s hand tangled in his curls.

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson @live-love-be-unique @hazydespair @gothvamp1973 @kennedy-brooke @kittydeadbones @hollysleeps @hellojameshowyadoin @munsonzgf @browneyes8288 @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @siriuslysmoking @mandyjo8719 @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng

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#ghost's writing #ghost's stories #ghostly halloween #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x you #ghost's taglist is nearly full by the way haha #i can't remember my writing tag FUCK

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sucrealacreme · 6 months ago

Text

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Prologue

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

I don’t remember a lot of things. I'm not amnesic or anything, no, I just have blanks for certain memories. It confuses me to no end. Did I always have those powers? Or were they given to me at the late age of 25? I have no idea who I am, why I'm suddenly super abled. The only thing I know is that I'm stuck this way forever now wether I like it or not.

I don't hate my abilities. I pride myself in the fact I can control atoms. Yeah that seems like I'm overpowered but it's more complicated. I have to know the exact formula to what I want to manipulate. Now, I'm better. I can control most things like water, iron, most metals,ect… But still, in order for me to control atoms I need to know if it's like H2O or something like that. It can be annoying sometimes. Plus, if I try to split atoms to make like a nuclear explosion, I did try to see if I could do that, stupid idea but still, I have this weird electrical pulse at the back of my head.

I have no idea what I was made for. It wasn’t for war, nor pageants or any dancing and singing competition. So I stay hidden, in my small repetitive life. Sleep, eat, work, eat, sleep. I have yet to find people with similar experiences. But I will soon, I can feel it.

Stillwell was in her luxurious office when she saw the results of the debate about if supes belong in the military or not. The no won surprisingly. Under the huge amounts of shock and disbelief, she barely heard her phone ringing.

“Hello?”, said Madelynn.

“Good afternoon Miss Stillwell. I have called you today to discuss a certain topic.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“I’M afraid we both know Madelynn.”

The woman sighed, thinking of a way to get out of this situation. She was thinking, thinking and thinking and thinking and thin-

“Mss.Stillwell?”

“Yes, yes sorry”

“I think the video still needs to be seen by the world, senator. I mean, people need to know who’s ruling our military and making sure we’re all safe, right?” said Stillwell in a passive aggressive tone.

“Madelynn, between you and me, your supes belong in a circus special show. Not in the defence system”

The woman suddenly had an idea. One that would change the world forever, but still an idea.

“We'll see about that senator”, Stillwell said before hanging up

—-----------------

Fast forward 3 years

—------------------

You're now part of an organisation known to reunite what Vought likes to call “supervillains”. But truly, you're just humans who became supes one day and who can't seem to control themselves around supes.

Since it was revealed that supes are made and not some gifted people, questions and arguments are roaming around the community. If Vought made the supes, then who made the villains? Was it Vought or some twisted knock off? Do you have compound V or something else flowing inside your veins? And if so, why did this organisation chose us? Normal citizens with no criminal background? It's not like all of you had no family or friends or anything, no, you knew a proud and married mom of 3 children who became a villain overnight. There are even some people who were pastors, nuns or imam, nursery workers whose lives are now ruined by this thing.

But still. With the villain's accusations, you still had faith. You knew by now how supes actually were. A bunch of drugged up criminals with colourful costume but with a pristine white reputation thanks to the big V. Someone had to do something about it. Civilians were dying by the dozens every day because of supes.

“She was on the road”, “I said get out of the way”, “It was self defence”, “It had nothing to do with race or gender”. I’ve heard those sentences thousands of times now. A-train who straight went through a girl, Sun Light who burned someone with 3rd degree burns during a chase, Homelander when he lasered a random guy, Blue Hawk when he killed an innocent young black man. The list goes on and on.

When you discovered that there were others like yourself, and how supes just wouldn't take the blame for their actions, you decided to find the most powerful, strong, and fast people like you to build a whole team.

Your name is Y/N, you control atoms and you’re what they call a supervillain.

A/n : So it's my very first story, hope y'all like it. If there are mistakes it's totally normal english isnt my first language. Thank you for reading 😊

A/n 2 : I changed a couple things, again tell me if you have any remarks😊

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #the boys #the boys x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 4 months ago

Note

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123 for 🧟:

---

Buck feels relieved. She didn’t travel all this way not to have a support system in him.

“Hershey didn’t get the worst of the outbreaks,” Maddie says. “Roads closed from Harriburg, and… Well, it was stemmed.”

Buck remembers that, from the early days. Before the internet went out. He’d tried to reach out. Even to his parents.

“But everyone went into lockdown mode,” Maddie says. “At first I thought that would exclude me, being in healthcare. I thought I was needed more than ever.”

“Weren’t you?” Buck asks.

“Oh, I think probably.” Maddie admits. “But Doug came home one day with new guns and told me neither of us was leaving the house again. Not without his say so.”

“What the fuck?”

“I think he was happy, honestly. Society had gone to hell, and he didn’t have to be careful anymore.” Her eyes tear up a little. “He could do whatever he wanted.”

Buck’s blood goes cold. He knew Doug didn’t treat her right. Didn’t treat her well at all. But what she’s implying? If he had known… Oh god. He would have never left her.

“Maddie…”

“Don’t say sorry,” she says firmly. “I worked hard to make sure you didn’t know, okay? It’s why… It’s why we lost contact.”

Buck’s head hangs a little. “I would have helped you.”

“I know. That’s why. He would have killed you.”

Buck sighs. “So what happened?”

“He got sick,” Maddie says. “Went out on a supply run one afternoon, came back sick. Infected.”

“Shit.” Buck hisses.

“So I shot him.” Maddie says, very quietly.

“My god, Maddie.” Buck exhales. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”

“It was,” she agrees. “But I wasn’t going to die there. Become infected or wait for him to fully turn and… Eat me.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t,” Buck replies. “I’m so glad you survived.”

“Me too,” she says, inhaling a little. Like she’s convincing herself.

“Can I ask what happened to Mom and Dad?” Buck asks.

They’re obviously not close. Never were. He hasn’t worried for them, the same way he’s worried for Maddie. But it’s not like he wishes them harm. Though, harm has come for most people anyway.

Maddie shakes her head a little.

“I don’t know entirely,” she admits. “By the time I left and was able to check on them, the house was abandoned. No trace of them. No remains.”

Buck bites the inside of his cheek. So it will always be a question, then.

“Sorry,” Maddie says.

Buck shakes his head. “No, that’s… I mean, everyone has people like that, right?”

She nods. “I’m glad you’re not one of them, now.”

Buck throat feels tight. “Same with you.”

▪️▪️▪️

Buck starts his shift on cams after Maddie is asleep. He’s on from eight until two in the morning, when Bobby will switch with him.

It sounds painfully boring, but Buck doesn’t hate cam shifts. He did at first. The stillness was grating. Drove him crazy. He learned to entertain himself, over the past months. He can’t read, really. He could miss something. But he can listen to music or audiobook CDs. Not just CDs, either. Karen’s iPhone is still in good shape, and it had dozens of audiobooks, podcasts, and music downloaded onto it. She leaves it in the cams room with a charger for whoever is on shift. So there is a lot for Buck to do to occupy his mind. Even if some of the podcast episodes and audiobooks start to get repetitive on the second or third listen.

Tonight, he’s listening to a nonfiction selection of Karen’s. Something academic and a bit smarter than Buck. But the only way he learns is by challenging himself, so he’s trying to focus. It’s nearing ten o’clock. Most everyone has gone to bed. It’s been a long, tiring day. Full of activity.

All this to say, Buck is surprised when he sees someone pop up on the security camera. Not just someone. Eddie. He’s walking, purpose in his step, down the hallway connecting to the front foyer, right out the big glass entryway doors. Oh. Well, that’s stupid. The doors lock from the outside. Bobby locks them before he goes to bed. Buck will have to leave his post to let him back in, which is annoying.

He’s about to do as much, making the short walk to bang on the glass and let Eddie know, when what he sees on the screen stops him short. Eddie walks to the side of the building, leans against a brick wall, and starts to cry.

Oh.

Well, this is very awkward.

And, hey, there’s nothing wrong with crying. Buck has cried twice today. One over the radio, once over his sister returning. No shame in it. It’s just that, Buck has all the off-cam good crying spots down. Including his private room. This poor guy doesn’t realize Buck can see him.

He shouldn’t watch. Surely no zombies or other forms of villain will come in the next… Well, how long does it take to cry? Buck doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything about this guy. Other than that he saved Maddie. Really, the polite thing to do would be to turn away and give him a minute. He’s going to. Definitely.

Except, he finds he can’t look away.

Something in his heart cracks, watching this guy. He’d seemed friendly and collected earlier. Steady. Not like someone hours away from weeping. Maybe that’s just a front. Maybe he wants to seem tough in front of his kid. Buck thinks he could understand that, despite not being a parent.

The crying lasts less than ten minutes. Buck watches Eddie straighten himself up, rub his eyes, and turn back towards the entrance. Which is still locked. Shoot. Buck bounces to his feet, leaves the cam room, and jogs down the hallway towards the entrance. By the time he reaches the door, Eddie is trying the handle to no avail, a panicked expression on his face.

Buck reaches forward and opens the door.

“Sorry, man,” he says. “It locks from the inside. Safety.”

“No, right,” Eddie nods. “That makes sense. Thanks for letting me in.”

“Don’t mention it,” Buck shrugs. Really. He literally saved Maddie’s life. Buck opened the damn door. Not the same level of effort.

“How did you know I was here?” Eddie asks.

Buck’s cheeks go a little red. “Uh…”

#daisies and briars writes #go and kill go and die fic

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year ago

Text

The Flayed

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 4.3K

warnings: cursing, panic attacks from byers/going off on everyone, blood/fighting. i think we good!

summary: the pits of hell.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

yall, steve and byers relationship is going through it, im sorry. also feel like my writing is inconsistent for these next few chapters (idk just me?)

@alecmores my lovely friend🌟

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter next chapter

You were sure your voice was gonna give out with the volume of your screams. The room that was now confirmed to be an elevator was moving at such a fast speed that you worried you’d hit the ceiling when it reached the bottom.

“Steve!” Calling for your boyfriend with tears flooding your eyes.

This is why you didn’t want to do this. Why you shouldn’t have gotten involved and just called the government. Now you have two children with you in a dangerous environment not knowing what was on the other side. Stupid fucking Russians had to ruin your night cause of their stupid system.

“Shit! Shit!” “We’re going down! We’re going down!” Steve and Dustin shouted over the noise. And you're pretty sure you’re just sobbing through the screams at this point. Robin shouted to Steve, “Yeah, no shit, Harrington!”

Dustin was smashing his hands into the buttons, but nothing was helping. “Why don’t these buttons work?!” Erica ran to his side, the two of them pressing the same buttons and yelling at each other.

Your fingers were curled tight around a metal table as you hyperventilate. Everything and everyone was just making your panic worse and you feared passing out. The elevator hit the ground hard and everyone lost their foot, falling to the floor with boxes following. Your head hit the bottom of the table and you winced in pain.

You could hear Steve groan, “Oh! My groin. It fell on my groin.” Then he called for Dustin to move a box.

You heard shuffling and Robin asking if everyone was okay, but you could only hear your loud breathing and feel the fast beating of your heart. Palms hit the metal floor as you panted and silently cried, messy hair hiding your face in a curtain.

“(Y/n)? Hey, baby…” The voices sounded as if they were underwater. Garbled and unclear, barely able to understand it’s Steve just from the pet name. A hand falls to your back, trying to use repetitive motions as a way to calm you down.

“Baby, it’s Steve. Dustin, Erica, and Robin are with us. Everyone is okay. We’re safe.” He spoke low and close to your ear.

“We don’t know if-“ “Shut it, Henderson!”

Your hearing got clearer and your breathing slowly evened out, body slightly shook as you managed to push yourself off the floor and shrug Steve’s hands away. Fingernails curled into your palm as you glared at Steve. His eyes were droopy and sad, arms limp at his side, but you needed to get this out.

“We are not safe, Steve. Not even close. We are in a Russian elevator that no one besides us knows about, so they wouldn’t know where to look. We have two underage children in our care to keep safe, which, they or we shouldn’t even be here in the first place! I have said, we should just take this to the authorities! That’s their job! We work in a fucking ice cream shop making five bucks an hour! But you and Dustin, along with Robin, wanted to be nosy American heroes, and Erica just took this as a reason to get free ice cream.” Arms flailing and voice cracking. “I should be home watching Jeopardy on the couch with you or Will. I haven’t heard from Jonathan or my mom all day, who knows if Will's home alone when he shouldn’t be since the last time that happened, he got sucked into the fucking Upside Down!”

You pound your fist into the walls, hurling more words under your breath. You ignored the sting to your wrist as you kept banging and banging, eyes blurry and voice straining. You only stopped when arms wrapped you from behind, they pinned your biceps down and dragged you away from the wall. You struggled against their hold until you gave up, not fighting just letting your emotions get the better of you.

“I can’t- I can’t do this again. I just can’t.” Legs turn to jelly as you let gravity drag you back to the floor. You just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep into a coma.

Steve, you knew it was him holding you, he fell with you. Your back was pulled to his chest as he shushed you, trying to calm you like a baby. His hand pushed your head towards his neck and you shifted so you leaned on your side, starchy uniform wrinkling in your grip. “I can’t keep… doing this.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I know, baby. I know. We just gotta stick together and we’ll be safe.” He pressed his face into your hair, his eyes closing as he hugged you tighter. He never wants to see you break like this, and he’ll do everything to keep you from cracking further.

“Uh… just so you nerds are aware, I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s. And Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”

“I don’t care about Tina!” Steve yelled as he moved his hands over your ears. With his mouth close they barely muffled his screaming at Erica. “Or Uncle Jack’s party! Your moms not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”

Your ears were uncovered and took in the silence that followed so much yelling. Dustin and Robin are the only two just watching and standing back. Steve kept your head pushed to his neck, his chin digging into your scalp as his palm rubbed your bicep up and down.

“Hey,” You turned to Dustin. His voice was low and even as he addressed the room. “Why don’t we just climb our way out?” Pointed upward to a square cut into the ceiling.

Steve pulled the both of you off the floor and kissed your salty cheeks. He squatted so Dustin could climb onto his shoulder and push the hatch open. With help from Steve, Dustin was pushed up and then Steve used a table for leverage.

You, Robin, and Erica just looked up and waited for anything. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, pretending it was Steve grounding you.

“Steve!” Robin yelled, “What’s it look like? Can we climb?”

There was thumping and then Dustin’s head popped in with a strained smile. “Uh…”

“Uh, what? Can we climb?” Erica demanded.

“No. We can’t climb, we’re too far down.” Dustin groaned.

You dropped your head. “Son of a bitch,” mumbled under your breath. Steve climbed back in and sighed as he leaned against the wall.

“Code red. I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”

You could hear Dustin’s voice bouncing off the thick walls from above. He asked for his walkie and said he was gonna try to get some help. He’s been repeating code red for about five minutes now.

“We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found they will torture and kill us.” That was a new one. And if anyone heard that, they would probably think it was a dumb prank.

Steve climbed atop a table and poked his head through the hole. “Hey!” He called to Dustin, “Gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”

Dustin’s voice was muffled and you could only hear Steve’s reply, “What do you think, Petey the mall cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?” He shimmied up back to the roof.

You, having nothing to do and wanting to distract yourself, you started stacking and organizing the boxes. Lend a helping hand to the Russians, cause why not? Robin tried pushing different buttons to get the door open or the elevator working again hopefully. And Erica was off to the side sitting down, messing with the container Robin stuffed in her bag.

Then there was a sound and a smell, your nose wrinkling. You heard Robin scuff followed by, “Can you redirect your stream, please?” You looked at the wall and you groaned.

Loud banging filled the silence and you promptly spun to see Erica hitting the green liquid against metal tubs. You rushed to her side and yanked the unknown substance from her tiny hands. “Hey, hey! Be careful, careful, careful! We don’t even know what this is.”

She rolled her eyes, “Exactly. It could be useful.” Robin walked over, “Useful how?”

Erica started a little rant. “We could survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water it will die.”

“I know that, little miss know-it-all. But I hate to break it to you, but this is not water. Not even close.” Your attitude is starting to match Erica’s.

She shrugged, “No, but it’s a liquid. And if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”

You heard Robin scuff and then a distant noise. An electronic whirring. Robin walked to the door and Erica yanked the liquid back when you were distracted. The both of you watched as Robin set her ear to the door and then pushed away to the tables. She climbed up and motioned with her hands to follow.

“We’ve got company.”

Robin went up first and then you made Erica go next, helping her small frame reach the hatch for someone to grab her. You can hear the noise getting closer. You stood on your tiptoes to get as close to the top, fingers stretched to the point of cracking. You weren’t good at pull-ups so you know this is gonna be a difficult task. Luckily, Steve came forward and grabbed your arms tight, and helped pull you upward. You fell into his arms as Dustin closed the lid, and now was the waiting game.

The elevator thudded then stopped meaning it was opened and then you heard two Russian men speaking, their feet shuffling back and forth a few times. Steve looked down into the opening allowing light, you should see the shadows moving. Everyone was tense, keeping as still as possible to not give away the position. Steve held a finger to his lips then he tilted his head slightly in the direction of Erica, who was holding her container of liquid goo.

Steve curled his fingers in a ‘give me’ motion and she slowly handed it off. The two men walked out of the room and now you just waited until they drove away. That whirring noise grew distant and it was followed by the heavy door falling.

Steve yanked the hatch open and climbed down, the door getting closer to sealing back up. He slid on the ground and with the bottom vertical he jammed it open. “Let’s go,” you usher Erica down first. Her backpack was thrown to Steve and pushed through the door.

She crawled on the floor with Steve’s “Go, go, go,” And her “I’m going.” in response.

Dustin dropped second. “Henderson. Go, go.” Steve gave him a push. You urged Robin next, her legs in the air before you pushed them down. You didn’t bother to argue with Steve about who was next since he would insist on you. You shuffled under with Dustin and Robin yanking you out of the way so Steve could hurry as the glass was breaking.

You grabbed his uniform and tugged at him, Robin helping with her grunts of, “Come on, Steve, let’s go!” He rolled his body into yours and both of you watched as the glass gave out and the green goo sizzled the floor and door.

You sighed as you hugged Steve tight and he did as well. You heard Robin ask, “Still wanna drink that?” And you knew it was at Erica. Despite the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from planting kisses on the side of Steve’s face, your body went through slight shudders of panic. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” Whispered into his hot skin.

He pushed himself off your body and held his hands out to help you from the floor. His eyes zigzagged everywhere, “Not hurt or anything?” You confirmed your intact state and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Holy mother of God.” Dustin’s voice broke the silence. You and Steve broke apart and everyone turned to see what stunned Dustin Henderson. A giant tunnel is what. “Well…hope you guys are in good shape.” He took your hand and pulled you with him as he tapped Dustin on the chest, “Looking at you, roast beef.”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking. Could’ve been fifteen minutes or a full hour already. It just went on and on forever, the fluorescent lighting hurting your eyes and causing your headache to worsen. Steve kept your hands intertwined, something bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving reassuring kisses on our cracked skin.

“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive.” Dustin with his wandering gaze and scientific mind. Steve countered Dustin’s remark, “What are you talking about? It’s a total fire hazard. There are no stairs, there’s no exit, there’s just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.”

And you agreed with him in your head, ears tingling at the deep sound of Steve’s voice bouncing off the walls and almost wrapping you in a warm blanket. Messily as you walked you landed a kiss on his clothed shoulder, just wishing to take a moment and hug him like a bear.

Erica’s high-pitched voice spoke, “They’re Commies. You don’t pay people, they cut corners.” You genuinely wonder if she’s learning this from school or something she does as a hobby.

“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think this tunnel was designed for walking,” Robin mentioned. “Think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting cargo.” And she was right about that.

“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery.” “And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.” Dustin and Robin finished each other’s sentences.

“Wait… so you think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” You leaned forward a bit to see everyone’s thinking faces. Dustin twisted his mouth, “I seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison. It’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”

“What the hell is Promethium?” Steve blurted.

“It’s what Victor Stone’s dad used to make Cyborg’s bionic and cybernetic components.” Robin casually mentioned. You couldn’t help the gasp that followed, “You read comics? Robin, why am I just now hearing about this?” She just shrugged, but you saw her hidden smile.

“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica had to ruin the moment.

Steve was quick to come to his defense, “No, no, no. No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, all right?” The simple comment made you slip your hand from his out of pettiness. Steve whipped his head towards you and tried to grab it back, but you just crossed your arms and kept walking.

You heard light chuckles from the others. “Why so sensitive, Harrington? Afraid of losing cool points to a ten-year-old child?” Robin’s snarky comment was followed by Dustin’s, “With you dating (Y/n), you’re a nerd by association. She’s got a good knowledge of comics and Star Wars.”

“I know that. I’m just saying I don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.” You dropped your arms and you felt Steve’s hitting yours twice before you took the innovation of holding hands again. “Promethium.” Dustin fixed Steve’s miss pronunciation. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.”

“Or power something.” You quickly throw it out there. “Like a nuclear weapon?” Dustin asked. You shrugged even if he couldn’t see, “Totally, they are Russia and they usually are up to something sketchy.”

“Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That’s great. That’d be great.” Steve used his sarcasm as his defense. He squeezed your hand three times.

“But if they’re building something, why here?” Robin pointed out, “I mean, Hawkins. Seriously. Of all places. At the very best, we’re a toilet stop on your way to Disneyland, but maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s our very…” She trailed off as she and Erica continued forward. At the same time, Steve pulled the both of you to a stop with Dustin.

“You think the Russians know?” Steve turned to Dustin. “About-” Dustin didn’t need to finish, the three of you knew what he was gonna say. “They could,” Steve pointed out. “So it’s connected?” You asked while huddling closer to the boys.

Dustin shook his head, “Maybe.” “How?” You were confused about how a government on the other side of the world could know about your shit town and its supernatural connection.

“I don’t know, but it’s…” “Possible.” The three of you whispered. Your headache was worsening by the second.

“I’m sorry,” You looked up and saw Robin and Erica further up the tunnel and turned around, “Is there something you’d like to share with the class? (Y/n)?” You could only open and close your mouth, nothing coming out.

The sound of static hissing followed by a man’s voice speaking what sounds to be Russian drew everyone’s attention. Erica dropped her backpack and pulled the walkie out as you all huddled on the ground. Robin pulled the antenna out and listened to the voice. She then translated what was being relaid.

“A trip to China sounds nice. If you tread lightly. It’s the code.”

Dustin pointed at the walkie in her hands, “Wherever that broadcast is coming from-” “It’s close. And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”

“It can reach the surface.” You finished with an air of hopefulness. Robin looked up with a smile then to your group, “Let’s go,” and you continued your walking.

You walked for what you assumed to be about thirty minutes before voices and loud noises got closer. Steve pulled your group into a corner behind a giant metal container and waited for the coast to be clear of any workers passing by. He peeked his head out and when he assessed the scene he moved forward and pulled you with him, “Clear, come on, Let’s go.” And everyone stuck close together.

“Okay, that was close.” “Too close.”

“Relax,” Steve stopped Robin and Dustin’s complaining, “Relax, no one saw…” His steps came to a halt and your jaw was metaphorically on the ground.

The room in front of you was filled with workers. Scientists, guards, drivers, and some people you can’t identify are dressed in red full-body suits. A female voice was speaking Russian on the intercom and you forgot you were in the open until you were almost spotted by an armed guard.

“Shit!” You yanked Steve with you to hide behind a red box, everyone tucked behind. “Jesus!” Steve muttered.

“Red Dawn.” Dustin referring to a movie that came out last year.

“I saw it.” And you just thought Erica meant the movie until she followed up with, "First floor, northwest.”

“Saw what?” Steve asked. “The comms room.” She sounded exasperated.

Steve scrunched his brows, “You saw the comms room? From here?” She nodded.

“Are you sure?” You couldn’t help questioning. You wouldn’t be able to tell which room was which. “Positive. The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”

“That could be a hundred different things,” Dustin argued. You looked in the direction Erica said and squinted your eyes to see anything, you only saw a closed door and faint movement through the slender window.

“I’ll take those odds.” Robin firmly stated. You couldn’t help the sigh as you closed your eyes. This was crazy, this was crazy, this was crazy. “This is crazy.” A slip of your tongue.

“Well, would you rather be stuck out here or trying to get help?” Erica sassed. And you knew she was right, you still didn’t like the slim odds against the five of you.

“All right.” Steve whispered as he laid out the plan, “We’re going to move fast, we’re going to stay low. Okay?”

Steve went first then you followed, copying his actions and following his rules. One by one, like ducks in a row. You moved then stopped, and waited for people to pass before moving again to the nearest hiding spot. Just one more stop before the door you held your breath, not wanting to make a single sound before reaching safety. Eyes on the door and watching as a man in a lab coat leaves the room, door wide open and swinging closed.

“Let’s go.” Steve moved forward and caught the door just before it closed. He ushered everyone in before him. His back was to the room so it took him a second longer to realize that it wasn’t empty, a Russian guard was at the controls.

You pulled the kids behind you, arms out to the sides to block them. The guard just stared at everyone then moved his right hand towards his hip, his gun. You stiffened with your eyes widening. Robin moved forward and started shouting in Russian.

“Tread lightly! Tread lightly!” The man was confused, replying, but you didn’t understand him and Robin wasn’t planning on translating. “Silver cat… Silver cat.” She waved a hand behind her.

Everyone was tense. Eyes move everywhere from person to person or looking for something within the room as a weapon. You didn’t try to look at Steve, worried that might cause a bad reaction.

The guard shook his head, speaking more words that went in one ear and out the other. Robin turned to you with a worried look then back. She took another step closer, “China?” The man just scoffs and grabs his gun.

Steve’s yells fill the small room. He charges forward and shoves the man into the control counsel. With numb fingers, you tug Robin at the back of her shirt and closer to you. Your eyes watch as the man throws Steve off him and into a table and he groans from the impact. He throws a swing and Steve leaned back and avoids getting punched in the cheek, but he’s grabbed by his shirt and thrown into another table face first.

“Steve!” Your voice coming back to you. The guard grips the back of the Scoop's shirt, but Steve elbows him in the stomach. The guard stumbles away, allowing Steve to grab the walkie from the main counsel and throw it hand to hand before smacking the Russian in the face. He hits a table and then lands on the floor with a loud thud.

You stare at the unconscious man before your eyes travel to Steve, who’s panting and running a hand through the front of his hair. Body moving on auto-pilot, your feet carry you towards Steve. Hands are shaky as they hold his biceps while you look over his face, warm brown eyes dart back and forth. You feel rather than see, Steve’s fingers curling into your belt loops and tugging you closer.

“Dude!” Dustin’s loud voice caused Steve to look his way, “You did it! You won a fight!” Steve looked to the floor and you saw the faint smile pulling his lips, “Jeez…”

“Please don’t do that again,” You couldn’t help the whisper. Steve’s brows furrowed at your words, “Well if I didn’t…” You stopped him with your hands on his cheeks, “No, I- I know. I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.” Thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek. His eyes and body melted just a touch, but now wasn’t the time to let his guard down. He only kissed your forehead and a reassuring smile before focusing back on the task at hand.

“You want to walk all the way back?” Erica’s loud shout made you step away from Steve reluctantly.

She and Dustin held a stand-off. “Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.” And you can hear where Steve’s developing more of his sarcasm. Erica countered, “Have a picnic? We came here for a radio.”

“This plan is way better. If I knew Steve could knock out a Russian, that would’ve been our plan in the first place.”

“Steve is not fighting anymore Russians.” You stopped Dustin from potentially putting Steve in any harm. He just rolled his eyes and Erica scoffed, you were getting so tired of these kids and their growing attitude.

“Look I’m just saying-” “Guys.”

Robin’s voice stopped whatever Dustin was gonna say. She stood in a doorway that led to some stairs going up. “There’s something up there.” Pointing a finger over her shoulder.

You were the last one up the stairs and through the door. Steve closed it slowly and quietly behind you and when you turned to the room, you felt your blood run cold.

Slow, timid steps guided you to the glass openings in the wall. You leaned in, nose almost tapping the window as your glued eyes took in the sight before you. Steve stood behind you, his back pressed close and his face over your shoulder, while Dustin was on your left.

“Holy shit.” And holy shit was right.

A room of white button-ups and lab coats, people moving about or messing with buttons and dials. A glowing white light caused your eyes to squint, its noises were faint, but the walls rumbled with power. Whatever these Russians were doing, they were powering up a giant device that was pointed at the wall. It was causing a riff to open slowly, red and orange, and without having seen it before you know where this leads.

“The Upside Down,” was all you could whisper.

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