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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 3 months ago

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Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 5

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Summary: You go on a hunt to find Redmane Freyja.

A/N: Oh boy, another fight scene that I cannot write. This chapter mentions scenes of violence: blood, gore, swearing - all the fun things.

A03 link

Chapter 5: Challenge

"If thee dare betray me, I shall maketh sure thou art never blessed by mine own mother's grace again."

It haunts you his exact words, whispered as if death was watching your every move.

It's a challenge, though one where he can judge you for how foolish you are. If he really wanted you to do all this for his loyalty, you would've rather faced the golden hippopotamus again.

You tell yourself you'll prove him wrong, and wipe that smug attitude away when you return. That is if you do it in time. There is a sense of doom to your mission, one you think could go wrong. Redmane Freyja - someone you didn't get the chance to speak to - is a warrior through and through. Capable of standing for herself, and impressive in her prowess.

Having followed the Moorth Highway south, avoiding furnace golems and trolls that sit by ransacked carriages. By the time you see the ruins on the second night, darkness has fallen, and rain slashes in front of you. You decide it's best to take a rest.

You sit by the closest site of grace, and rain shields your vision, giving less visibility, but it is only the grace you look upon, watching intensely.

Torrent nudges you out of your thoughts momentarily, bringing a gentle hand out to feed him berries you gathered, whilst you rip at the bark-like cured meat. "What have I gotten myself into, Torrent?" You whisper to him tentatively, as your stead munches happily on the treats you provide. A flash of lightning casts the tree behind you to look like a mighty beast, yet you do not jump. Instead, you sigh, your body aches and your mind wishes for rest. "Doom follows me, and I can only welcome it."

Sleep does not come easy, not that it has for many nights.

When morning comes, you dismount from Torrent, and the stead disappears out of sight, back into the whistle for when you need him next. The ruins are a large formidable mess, crumbling from age with the heat of the stone burnt from eternal flames. You're aware of its underground structures, but it is not that you're interested in.

For in the centre, stands the person you've been looking for.

"Tarnished, I am pleased to see you made it out alive from the Shadow Keep." Freyja greets you smoothly, turning to face you, "Is the deed done? Is the tyrant dead?"

"No Lady Freyja, he is not."

The woman only gives a hum to your answer, "That is a shame. I will have no doubt when I tell Lady Leda, she will not be too pleased either.

"She will not hear of this news, Freyja," There was a sense of acceptance to your words. You pull forth your nagakiba, bending your knees as you hold a defensive stance, "For I have come for your life instead."

She is silent for what feels like forever until you hear the absurd thing. Laughter. She is laughing at you. "Did your new lord ask of you to do this? Ah, you foolish girl, what have you done?"

You don't answer her, but you feel something boil inside you. Fight me. Fight me now. "Do you believe Lady Leda will not hear of this? The news of my death will trigger my allies to come find you. Do you not hear yourself, who will stand with you? Miquella will not take lightly hearing of your deception."

It is only with a heavy sigh that eases you. She unsheathes her great sword, flashing like a giant sun. "Very well, Tarnished. May your foolishness be your undoing."

"May it be then." You say, and before you in a flash, she charges.

Metal hisses against metal as the great sword hits the side of your armour on your chest, caught mostly by your nagakiba, thankful that it does not slice through. It does, however, leave a long scratch down the steel.

You grunt. Freyja is a mighty warrior you admit, but she sweeps with her great sword with the intent of hacking your head off rather than trying to whittle you down. A foolish mistake, you note, rolling out of the way as her great sword swings down, hitting the very spot you just stood on.

You land a quick slash towards her, having almost no effect as she dodges easily, grabbing you tightly by the forearm and headbutting you with a crack that you think has split your skull. She tosses you backwards, her laughter raucous and vexing.

You continue to circle her, darting back and forth, slicing, which makes her have to try looking out for you. She makes for a big target, swinging her great sword around as she huffs and grunts like a beast not wanting to surrender. A true warrior of Radahn, you wonder why she chose to leave him. For what feels like ages, you both jab at one another, taking turns with neither gaining a hit or dodging the last second. Only one of your slashes with your nagakiba gets her on the back of her leg and you smile in victory underneath your helm, only to dodge out the way clumsily from another one of her heavy-hitting attacks.

"You're slow, Tarnished." Freyja mocks. "Is this the warrior Messmer fought? I feel sorry for him."

You hiss, slashing at her most vulnerable areas, legs, arms, twice at the shoulders in an attempt to get her to become sluggish. Freyja would not slow though, grunting from time to time, but overall seemingly not injured.

You wonder if Messmer did all of this as a cruel joke- to have you face the largest and most formidable of Miquella's followers. It would be easy to laugh too, for you were indeed the fool who accepted.

You continued, earning a slash to your shoulder at one point that has you promptly rummaging for a healing flask, dodging another attack as you down it. Your shoulder feels stiff, but it has healed the wound quickly enough for you to keep going for her. Circling, slashing, rolling. On and on, this dance goes on until you do begin to notice she is becoming slower.

You stagger her with a parry, going up behind her in a flash to stab her through the rib, getting through the gap in her armour as you kick her forward. Blood ruptures out as she gives a loud grunt, cursing you loudly as she lands on her feet before you can attack her again.

"I will not die today, Tarnished." You can hear her gritting her teeth, leaping like a cat into the air, her sword and herself swinging in time before she lands on the ground right in front of you. Debris and dirt hit you, rocks scrapping your exposed areas not covered by armour and you're flung backwards, landing not so gracefully on your back from the force of her landing. She strides towards you, thinking victory is ahead.

You roll to stand, thinking swiftly as you pull forth a perfume bottle, throwing it her way. It casts pockets of fire in her way, and she stumbles through it, patting herself as you can hear the sound of her blood bubbling and boiling from her cuts.

The next foolish thing you could do whilst she was occupied with the perfumed flames was charge towards her, running through the flames you cast as you scream, leaping onto her, kicking her in the gut that she is winded enough to have her great sword knocked from her hand. Now with her unarmed, you raise your nagakiba over your head, thinking it would be enough to strike the exposed part of her neck to give her a quick death, only to find she is slamming her fist into your gut too, not once, twice, knocking your sword from hand as she lands a punch to the side of your face, knocking you off her and onto the ground.

You scrabble, as she gets up, wheezing and whimpering as you pull forth another weapon. Small and delicate, the knife from your pocket would need to do a lot of damage, only she laughs at the measly size of it, charging you once more.

You dodge another punch to the side of your head, fear coursing through you, feeling more afraid than ever before. To be classed a traitor to all was not what you wanted, but you could feel yourself needing another flask immediately.

Freyja caught sight of it as you tried to reach for it, grabbing your wrist and twisting, releasing the bottles as they flew overhead you both, crashing with a shatter against some debris, clearly broken.

You can taste blood in your throat, coughing some up the more you move. Everything burns, pain that moves from one part of your body to the next part, screaming for rest, mercy. Freyja cries, raising her hands over her head as if ready to slam her fists down upon you when you see an opening. The exposed part of her armpit is uncovered, the blood seeping is her own. You miss the fists to your head, gripping the knife and using your other hand to drive it upwards, screaming with the force.

Freyja only hisses when you're face to face with her now. Her golden-masked face is all you can see, but you wish to believe her face has written on it either fear or approval. You don't think it's been driven hard enough into her chest, driving it deeper which earns a louder cry from her, followed by shallow, deep breathing.

"You fought well, Tarnished." She wheezes, "I pray Kindly Miquella will think the same."

With a final curse, she bends, falling to her back, her breathing ceasing with the blade poking out between her skin and armour.

It was only when you felt the sense of victory wash over that you felt something was off. Pain kicks in, replacing the adrenaline with a stinging sensation that begins to burn between your ribs. Horror rushed over you, catching you off guard. A cold sweat washes over. Crying out, you jump back away from Freyja's crumpled body, running shaky hands over your body to find what was sticking out of you. Oh Gods. You dread, crying out as a blade you hadn't noticed she had pulled forth, with a handle as thick as your forearm was now protruding in your side.

You had felt many deaths before and suffered great injuries, but none had been so foul as the feeling of torture before death came. You needed to find a site of grace before you lost everything. Gritting your teeth, your hands gripped the handle to the blade, reeling back from the pain of it so far lodged into you. One, two, three! You didn't want to give yourself any time to react as you pulled it out from you, screaming from both the alleviation and fear bubbling in your mind.

Immediately, your legs gave way and you fell backwards, limbs numb as you still held the bloody knife in your grip. You groaned in disgust, throwing it away as you remembered through it all that you couldn't just leave without the proof Messmer asked for.

"He better be fucking grateful." You spat, clutching your bleeding side as you tried your best to even kneel. With only the knife on you to use, it would be better for hacking than the thinner blade of your nagakiba. You knew what you had to do. Staring down at Freyja's corpse, you kicked off her helm, revealing a mass of unruly hair.

"Forgive me." You whispered, revealing her neck as you pressed the knife into her flesh, the sounds of hacking and sawing could be heard through the ruins.

Once off, you threw the head into a bag, tying it to your belt as you whistled for Torrent. It was hard not to stop yourself from gagging, the thick smell of blood wafted in the air, creating an even fouler stench in the ruins. You had been through worse, you reminded yourself, dying is now as familiar to you as waking up in the morning, but even on the verge of death, it was the worst feeling to experience. It was not the same as just suffering a quick and easy one, waking up by grace fully healed.

Once here, Torrent stands solemnly beside you, warily swaying as his beady eyes access you. It takes some effort to mount him, for the beast is patient, and you can only silently thank him for not bucking you off for how many times you try getting your leg over. Finally atop, your skin feels both hot and cold, your armour was sticking to your skin as if it was boiling you alive from the inside. The soft fur of Torrent was all you had to concentrate on, despite the feeling that your brain wanted to switch off. You fight it for as long as you can, hoping Torrent can guide you the way you came.

You didn't know how long you had been travelling back when the pain was ebbing away at your consciousness, your body was weakened and struggling to stay atop Torrent. Your skin had paled, hands were jittery as you lost the strength in your fingers to hold the reins. Your vision was spiralling, swaying like the waves of the shoreline, not certain what was up and what was down, but the feeling of your body swaying, and finally, falling and falling in slow motion.

You thudded to the ground, Torrent halting as he inspected you with a muzzle to your face, coaxing you to stay awake.

"Torrent." Breathing noisily, you would apologise to him when you found yourself at a site of grace. You dreaded knowing you would fail at Messmer's quest in his mind, but before you could think further of it, darkness swarmed your vision, and you thanked whoever was watching over you finally gave you comfort.

From the darkness, came distant, cold dreams, filling your mind with doubt:

..."They are incredible, are they not?" There is a sense of dread and awe as you stare up at the sky, bright and bold with the sounds of dragons. The creatures, large in age, sweep and dive down, creating rushes of wind to almost knock back the men who stand on the ground. Some are still wary, when the dragons came once, it had been to destroy towns and wage wars. Now, having them as allies was an unseen miracle. "It is your friendship with them that is outstanding." You marvel, turning to the man beside you, as regal and charming as those with royal blood. He carries himself with a way of understanding all, a calming presence that all could admire. He smiles at you, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I am certain they would love to meet thee. I have told them much and more." "Me? I am just a mere knight, here to serve, my Lord." "Yes, but my most trusted ally and loyal friend." The man chuckles, leading you down as if now is the right time to introduce you to the winged creatures.

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

... "Mother is to remarry again." The regal man says, this time you don't know how much time has passed. There is a slight tinge of disappointment in his words. He has his back towards you, the parchment thrown across his apartments. "I received her message when I broke my fast." "You know to whom?" You ask. "The Carian Queen's former husband, Radagon." "And of your father? What becomes of him?" "He is to begin his long march with many of his armies, my mother has decreed." He turns to you, sorrow that was not just in his voice but in his eyes. "She asks that thee join." You don't wish to, you want to plead and beg, but this sadness is not just felt in him but yourself, something you cannot understand nor explain. You think this man is unknown to you, so why do you feel such disgrace? All you can do is nod, acceptance heavy in your chest. "Very well, my Lord."

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

... A half bottle of wine is now neglected, and large calloused hands dance along your hips and thighs, lips pressed to the pulse point of your neck. "Let me speak to my mother," the man uttered, pulling you closer on his lap, "she will let thee stay." "I can't," you say, his hands felt so realistic in the fogginess of your mind, fingers stroking his jawline, "it is my duty not just to serve you, but your family as well." "I know, my sweet knight." He murmurs in understanding, a sense of despair consumes him, and when he tries to pick you up to continue things in the bedroom, you stop him. "Not yet, my Lord. I only wish to be in your arms tonight. One final night before I must leave." He smiles, kissing you with the need to remember the outline of your lips. "Anything for thee."

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

... A battlefield of blood and bone, ash and carnage. Men in golden armour surround you, in the dying, groaning for mercy and death, their voices dying down in numbers. You clutch your bleeding chest, holding a grand ornate sword in hand, and sweet tears drip from your eyes. You cough, spluttering crimson blood that dribbles down your chin. You stare up at the endless sky, with a man's name being muttered from your lips as you die.

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

Your lungs burn when you wake from a death-like sleep, coughing up the air and drinking it in as if you can still somehow feel the cold blade deep in your chest. You go to touch it, only to remember that it was all a dream.

"Easy, milady," a voice pulls you back to reality, and when you look at your surroundings, you're not staring into the golden strips of grace, but the roaring flames of a fire. Opposite you, sits a nomadic merchant, plucking at the strings of his instrument, "your wounds are still open."

Messmer. Is your first thought, and you dread to wonder if he thinks you've betrayed him. You're careless in the way you try to stand, running a hand over where the blade stuck through you, only to find heavy bindings that have been kept to stop the bleeding. You hiss softly, guilt pouring through at the attempt this merchant has made to keep you alive.

"It shall be enough to get you to find a proper healer if you're quick." He says in a soft tone, watching you through clouded eyes, his face half covered.

"Torrent... where is Torrent?" You're blinking back from the intensity of the fire in front of you, blinking back tears you're certain to have come from the cinders, not your life-like dreams.

"Ah, your stead," the merchant points, and through the bushes, you spot Torrent, munching on berries with no care in the world. "We found you in the nick of time, milady. If we had been any later, well... you would've been a goner."

You try to laugh at that, but you're unsure if he knows you're Tarnished. "Thank you," you stand shakily to your feet, throwing a coin his way that he accepts with some surprise, "I must be going now."

"I must warn you, Messmer's soldiers lurk on the roads. Best to keep to the woods." The merchant speaks with uncertainty as you coax Torrent to come to you. He does, stroking his snout before climbing atop. You feel just about better now that you've had time to rest, but you need to head back to Aldwin so he can stitch you back up. You've been gone so long without a site of grace that you fear you will begin to wither.

"It is alright," you speak earnestly. "He is looking for me."

A/N: I am aware that it's recommended not to pull sharp objects out of you unless you wish to bleed to death, but I guess Tarnished thinks it's the smartest plan. I do wonder who this mysterious man is-- oh well, I guess we'll never know *wink wink*

#messmer fic #messmer x tarnished #elden ring messmer #messmer x reader #messmer the impaler #elden ring fic #tarnished! reader #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #part 5 #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #messmer the impaler x reader

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yourbloodysunrise · 3 months ago

Note

Sundrop I just had just ask for the same OC again istg-

Btw the OC's name is Yuzhao, and all-

And I've been cooking up some more lore so buckle up it's gonna be long (I'm so sorry😭):

You know Tripitaka tried to correct and help Sun Wukong in the JTW? (We get hints of that in LMK) Well imagine that, but with the First Spinjutsu Master as Tripitaka and Yuzhao as SW, after lots, lots, and I mean a lot of attempted murders from Yuzhao's parts they eventually became friends, and FSM began telling him about the vision and prophecies he had.

One of them being that a (insert element) master would one day beat him when the time came.

So basically after being freed the reason he became interested in the Ninjas is because of that prophecy, knowing they were the one.

Except he's not mad, buddy became so strong that he want someone to be challenge him so psychotically bad that instead of stopping that prophecy he keeps pushing it.

Though he forgets the difference between mortal and immortal and may or may not put them in deadly situation thinking it won't harm them much.

So (pls pls pls?) write a headcannon of it with the Ninjas?? Like each Ninja you're writing for is the one the prophecy is talking about, eventually he explains the prophecy to them by accident in the most comic way possible.

You can add Garmadon and Wu but instesd of the prophecy talking about them it's about Lloyd, and how they would react to how Yuzhao acts towards Lloyd, and yes they are unaware of the prophecy but FSM did give them some hints in the past 👀👀

Ik ik it's a lot but my brain keeps cooking up scenarios and your writing is just so goooood.

🌤 — too many letters, more than four letters don't digest: meow

🌤 — ok, ok, just kidding :) idea sounds cool, so I tried my best. I decided to combine these two requests, I hope you two don't mind. enjoy <3

THAT'S PART TWO, PART ONE IS THERE! ゜・。。・゜🌌

❝ Is it possible to change fate? ❞

— FANDOM: NINJAGO

— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS(+MASTER WU&MASTER GARMADON) x MALE!OC

— PLATONIC

— HEADCANONS

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, CONTAIN SPOILERS, IT'S LIKE CONTINUATION OF PART ONE, YUZHAO IS STILL CALLED "YOU" SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR PEOPLE TO READ IT, I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN TO PUT LLOYD NEAR THE END AND I DO THAT, SLIGHT ANGST BUT NOTHING TOO SERIOUS

NYA:

☆ ┈ She's still not thrilled with you, but over time she starts to soften up a little towards you.

☆ ┈ How long has it been since you were released? A week, a month, or maybe six months already? Nya lost track of time.

☆ ┈ She just got used to you. Your seemingly eternally annoying behavior begins to seem to her not so unbearable.

☆ ┈ ..No, seriously, Nya herself is surprised that she has become more tolerant to you.

☆ ┈ And yet, this does not mean that there will be no conflicts between you two.

☆ ┈ I just imagine that because of how much time you spent sealed away, you could forget about the prophecy for a while.

☆ ┈ Your constant attempts to challenge her are boring to her. If she accepts them and loses, it will hit her significantly, and she will start training harder.

☆ ┈ I still think that you still remember the difference between mortals and immortals, trying not to harm them too much if you do fight.

☆ ┈ She freaks out at the fact that you can beat her so easily, and you remind her of it. It brings back unpleasant memories for her, mostly those when others decided what to do and who to be.

☆ ┈ Nya is a person of will, she wants to prove to you that she may not be stronger than you, but she is able to defeat you. This is how her intense training begins.

☆ ┈ She tries to occupy herself with all she can do: improving physical fitness, training her element powers, maybe she will try to learn how to use Spinjitzu more in time. I wouldn't be surprised if she even resorted to Airjitsu again.

☆ ┈ Others start to worry about her 'cause she is overworking herself significantly. You are just watching from the sidelines, thinking about how soon the moment will come when the prophecy will come true.

☆ ┈ One day, while Nya was training, you were resting near her, watching her. Admittedly, the training has paid off. She became stronger than before…

— "I wonder.."

— "About what?" — she asks you, out of breath from the physical exertion, but continues to train.

— "When you will defeat me. You know, the prophecy that one day Master of Water will defeat me, blah blah blah..."

☆ ┈ Nya will probably stop at the same moment and look at you with a confused look. Are you again messing with her?

☆ ┈ Looking at your serious face, she gets tense..If this is true, will she really become so powerful one day that she can defeat you?

☆ ┈ She turns her head away from you, shaking it. Defeat a damn strong demon? It definitely sounds like a silly legend, but..

☆ ┈ She looks at her calloused hands, tired from frequent workouts.

☆ ┈ Well, if this is true, then it's would be hard to stop the prophecy…

☆ ┈ But, you know what? She doesn't will trying to escape it. Nya don't mind show you what she really can do.

JAY:

☆ ┈ Jay is not completely sure what he thinks about you. You seem to get along well, but still sometimes you can be annoying to him..

☆ ┈ Maybe when you offer him a fight, he reminds you of how powerful you and complains about that, while you listen to him with that face: 🙂

☆ ┈ Jay can accept the challenge, but it will end in literally nothing. Let me remind you that you is still stronger than him, and the ninjas is unlikely to be able to defeat you :^

☆ ┈ The problem is that Jay refuses to give up. Even if he falls, feeling pain and fatigue after the battle, he will still force himself to stand up, no matter how much he wants to stay in place. He just doesn't want to let himself lose.

☆ ┈ Flashbacks from his bad times, flashbacks from his bad times, somebody call an ambulance...

☆ ┈ Generally speaking, at some point you unanimously agree to a draw. Jay is mostly because he is so damn tired, and you are because you are tired of watching him force himself to fight.

☆ ┈ Considering that he refuses to give up, you involuntarily remind yourself of the prophecy. Right now, Jay may not be strong enough to really take you down, but who knows, maybe he'll be able to do it soon?

☆ ┈ Imagine that Jay is quietly training with others, and you are somewhere in the background cheering him on as if he is fighting for the whole Ninjago.

— "Come on, hit harder! That's it! Beat it up like you're beating me up!"

— "..What."

— "Well, you know, like in that prophecy where I'm supposed to be struck down by Master of Lightning...Don't get distracted!"

☆ ┈ Jay may first think that you were just joking, and most likely one day he will casually joke about it. I just imagine how you laughed loudly at first, before stopping and saying through laughter that "by the way, it's true fr fr :)"

☆ ┈ I sincerely believe that Jay will be confused by this news.

☆ ┈ First of all, WHY DID YOU DECIDE TO TELL HIM ABOUT IT JUST NOW??? Secondly, what is the probability that this prophecy will come true?..

☆ ┈ The whole point is that Jay doesn't really want to fight with you. He doesn't really believe that he can beat you, and he even managed to get a little attached to you.

☆ ┈ To put it simply, Jay hopes that the prophecy will not come true. He doesn't know what to do to prevent it from happening, so he can only hope.

☆ ┈ I wonder if it will come to the point that the prophecy really could not come true?..

KAI:

☆ ┈ ..Overall, little has changed.

☆ ┈ You and Kai still jokingly fight each other sometimes, although it's more like a childish fight between two old friends.

☆ ┈ You find your relationship strangely funny. In fact, you're kind of friends, but you don't have to be..

☆ ┈ Kai really sees you as a comrade rather than a possible ally because of all the time you've spent together.

☆ ┈ Training with you, your carefree attitude towards him instead of fighting with him, as he should have done since his release…

☆ ┈ Let's sum up, he likes you. Some people call him strange because he is so indifferent to the fact that an ancient powerful demon is always hanging out next to him.

☆ ┈ ..But, in general, Kai doesn't care. You're not doing any harm, which means there's no reason to be afraid of you, right?

☆ ┈ It seems to me that of all the ninjas, you will have the most normal relationship with Kai. Sure thing there are others who don't mind your presence, but Kai is still the most loyal to you.

☆ ┈ It seems to me that you could have told him about the prophecy during one of your skirmishes. For example, Kai manages to take you by surprise, and he finally got the upper hand over you.

☆ ┈ At first you are not surprised, but when the realization reaches you, you laugh nonstop while Kai joins you with laughter, proud of his victory.

— "..Not bad, not bad!" you pause to catch your breath after a long laugh, "It seems we are getting closer.."

— "Closer to what?" he asks, resting his hand on his knees, wiping sweat from his forehead after your fight.

— "To the prophecy. Well, you know, 'one day Master of Fire will defeat me in a fight', meh meh.."

— "..I told you about the prophecy, right?"

☆ ┈ Kai is just confused by this at first, but over time, when he thinks about it more often, it will start to annoy him.

☆ ┈ In the early seasons, Kai had problems with how he thought he was the chosen one, but I believe that over time he stopped thinking about it and now that he gets what he once wanted, it leads him to unpleasant thoughts, which angers him.

☆ ┈ Kai just denies the fact that the two of you will ever have to fight for real. He doesn't want to fight you! You're not doing anything wrong, so why should he fight you?!

☆ ┈ In short, Kai believes that the prophecy will not come true, and will do whatever comes into his head and in his opinion will prevent the prophecy from happening.

☆ ┈ I wonder what you will be doing at this time?

ZANE:

☆ ┈ Over time, he will get used to you. He's still not sure who you are to him, but he's made sure you're not the enemy.

☆ ┈ Enemy wouldn't help him in the danger, right?

☆ ┈ It's hard to describe your relationship in any way. Zane mostly treats you neutrally, and you, in turn, just hang out with him, always chatting about something.

☆ ┈ I just liked the idea that you see him more like a human, not nindroid.

☆ ┈ Like, rush around him if he is broken/injured, tell him something that he cannot understand himself due to his system..

☆ ┈ With a P.I.X.A.L, everything is a little more complicated for you. She's starting to like you more, but she's still being careful about you, and she won't fight you until there's a reason.

☆ ┈ It will be more difficult to fight/train with Zane, because you can either not inflict special damage on him, or on the contrary, seriously break him.

☆ ┈ No, really, you don't need to do that. Let others do it. Please-

☆ ┈ About the prophecy, it seems to me that you could just casually mention it during the conversation. It was so insignificant that Zane might not have taken it for the truth at first until he asked you about it.

— "Prophecy? What kind of prophecy is this?"

— "Oh, that one..Nothing serious. Something about the Master of Ice have to defeat me sometime."

— "..And despite that, you're not trying to avoid it?"

— "Ha! Why should I?"

☆ ┈ How hard it is for you to be with each other..

☆ ┈ Zane is quite skeptical about this. Yes, he had seen some prophecies come true, but in those situations it was different. Firstly, by "defeat" you can describe a lot, in terms of winning what exactly? Secondly, even if you need to fight a serious battle, at the moment he sees no point in fighting you.

☆ ┈ I am torn between the opinions that Zane will be worried about this for a long time, or that he will only occasionally think about it.

☆ ┈ But hey, it's not that bad. At least having the prophecy didn't change Zane's attitude towards you.

COLE:

☆ ┈ *nervous laughter*

☆ ┈ Oh, where should I start?..

☆ ┈ God forbid that poor person who had the guts to attack Ninjago, because you and Cole definitely won't spare them...

☆ ┈ Yes, you two have a good relationship! All those quarrels that once were have long been forgotten, because if you have disagreements, then you take them out on your opponents.

☆ ┈ I think you like each other. You're going to do some stupid things together, laughing at it like two idiots. (with all due respect🧡)

☆ ┈ ..His desperate lessons to teach you how to play video games do not end, although he is tired of explaining to others why his joystick is always broken.

☆ ┈ The only thing why he doesn't similiar with Kai in your relationship is because he still unwittingly prefers other ninjas.

☆ ┈ Yes, you are cool and all that, but please stay in the monastery under the control of Master Wu, okay?

☆ ┈ This does not interfere with your friendship, so to speak. Although, when he finds out about the prophecy, he will, to put it mildly, be confused. Maybe it was when the two of you were fighting someone?

— "..Hey, it seems to me, or have you become stronger? Ooh, I don't want to find out what will happen to me after the prophecy.."

— "Prophecy?" Cole asks you again, hitting some unlucky guy in the face, instantly causing him to fly away.

— "Mm, I didn't say? A prophecy in which the Master of Earth should defeat me or something like that."

— "Cool."

☆ ┈ Despite the fact that many ninjas, although they did not immediately believe it, they still understood that you were talking about the prophecy seriously, Cole does not do this. At all.

☆ ┈ Yeah, he's the only one who will always think that this is a joke, and since you mostly don't talk about the prophecy, he won't even think about the fact that it's true.

☆ ┈ ..I can't blame him, he sees you as a friend, I think many people would deny it or simply wouldn't believe it.

☆ ┈ In short, nothing has changed for you. Hooray!

☆ ┈ ..Let's hope that the prophecy will not be soon so that something will change.

LLOYD:

☆ ┈ I'm so sorry for him-

☆ ┈ Let me remind you that despite the fact that Lloyd was suspicious of you for a long time and did not really like you, in the end he accepted you as a friend.

☆ ┈ You have become someone important to him. Yes, maybe you could be annoying sometimes, but you've become a really close person to him.

☆ ┈ It seems to me that you could 'help' him with his worries. It seems like something: he comes to you to talk because he feels bad, and you don't know what to do and are like, "mgm, mgm, MMHHHM... care for tea??"

☆ ┈ He appreciates it anyway. It seems to me that in the case of Lloyd, you deliberately do not want to tell him about the prophecy, because you understand that for him it will be like a punch in the stomach. (I DON'T BELIEVE THAT YOU DON'T LIKE NINJAS)

☆ ┈ Like, "Lol, he's cool, but what will he do to me? Maybe there's nothing wrong if he doesn't know about it."

☆ ┈ It seems to me that there are two possible scenarios. Either Wu or Garmadon somehow guess about the prophecy through hints, or you accidentally blab about it to Lloyd. Most likely the second one.

☆ ┈ I don't think I can describe it, because you could say it and after a couple of seconds immediately close your mouth, because you realize that you said it. And Lloyd heard you…

☆ ┈ I don't want to hurt Lloyd once again, because he's been through a lot already for the whole series, but he really feels bad after he found out about it.

☆ ┈ Does he need to fight you? Why? When? Is there any way to avoid this? Did he really mean something to you, or were you just studying him all this time?

☆ ┈ This is probably one of the rarest cases when you may be really embarrassed by the situation and you would try to comfort Lloyd.

☆ ┈ You are not doing well, but know that he is tense. If in the case of Garmadon he was a child and could easily be distracted by something else, now he is older, which means it will be more difficult for him to move away from this.

☆ ┈ Lloyd wants to deny the prophecy. Wants to, but it's hard for him. He is afraid that he will hurt you because you have become close to him, but he is also afraid of why he will have to fight you. Are you going to try to do something terrible? Will you betray him? Why does someone choose what to do for him again?!

☆ ┈ It shouldn't have come to this, but here we are. We can only wait to see how the prophecy ends…

☆ ┈ ..If it comes true at all.

MASTER WU & MASTER GARMADON:

☆ ┈ It's very complicated with them..

☆ ┈ It's easier with Wu, he missed the old days when you were comrades, so he will soften towards you. Of course, he can hit you on the head with a staff so that you don't relax, but as long as you don't cause trouble, you're fine.

☆ ┈ The Garmadon is not happy about your return. Generally. Unlike Wu, he holds a grudge against you for abandoning them and leaving Garmadon alone while the evil in his blood drove him crazy.

☆ ┈ They have become more tolerant of you, but this does not mean that you can do whatever you want, especially if you have revealed a desire to live with them..There are special rules for you.

☆ ┈ To put it simply, many things are forbidden for you.

☆ ┈ Garmadon have monastery, as it was shown in the third season, and apparently he have a young students. I think, in his free time from training, you could have fun with them while Garmadon watches you from the side and rests.

☆ ┈ You often try to help them, even if it means bringing Wu his teapot from the other end of Ninjago, or checking on Lloyd on a mission because Garmadon is worried about him.

☆ ┈ By the way, I think the three of you will make a great trio in battle. I generally like the interactions of Wu and Garmadon when they are allies, and you could be the perfect complement.

☆ ┈ In this case, it is combined with Lloyd's hcs. In both cases, you are friends, and most likely Lloyd will tell them about the prophecy after you blabbed about it.

☆ ┈ I'll tell you right away, Garmadon is damn angry.

☆ ┈ He sees that Lloyd is having a hard time taking it, and is angry at you for not telling him or Wu anything. Yes, he hopes that the prophecy could have been avoided, but he is not sure when it will happen, and therefore does not know if it can be prevented.

☆ ┈ Wu feels regret. He remembers all of Lloyd's experiences, he was with him almost all his way, and now even more trials are being imposed on him.

☆ ┈ The two of them often started discussing this together, and finally realized that their father had left clues about the prophecy for them. And, well, guess who goes after it, telling the ninja team to watch you and not leave you alone with Lloyd?

☆ ┈ So, these two intend to do everything in their power to prevent the prophecy. And, unfortunately to you, without you.

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤 — I AM ALIVE

🌤 — I'm so sorry this one take so much time, there were several reasons for the delay, some of them were health problems and writer's block, but I got better so I finished it :'э

🌤 — rlly hope that you'll like it. have a good day you all💌

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skatingbi · 11 months ago

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WELCOME TO PART 3 OF MY SANJI WITH HETEROCHROMIA SERIES!!!!

Oh my god. Yall are insane. 700+ Notes for part one of this series alone is crazy (Crazy? I was- *gets shot*). So heres part 3. I'll probably have to publish all this onto AO3 soon bc shits getting outta hand, but I like posting on this silly little site so I'll still be posting on here.

Uhhh this was posted WAY later than I anticipated bc i had a gnarly depressive episode and had to enroll into uni, but there aint no way id abandon this series, its too fun and i love experimenting with my baby writing style as i call it.

Okay thats it, just thank u all sm for enjoying my silly little series :) u guys are so sweet!!

P.S. Constructive criticism is OKAY! I havent written fanfic in like...10 years so since middle school. Im a baby at this and I understand if I may have several errors so pls lemme know if theres grammar mistakes!

Sanji With Heterochromia Series Part 3 below 🔻

Sanji lied. He does like the idiot. More than he's willing to admit. A few days after their conversation, Zoro distances himself. It leaves a nasty feeling in his gut similar to nausea but different from actually wanting to throw up. It feels apprehensive. He's waiting for something, but he doesn't know what yet. Sanji hates it. He hates how confused he is and how much he actually wants Zoro to touch him again. He hates the burning linger of scarred knuckles on his cheekbone that follows him wherever he goes.

He hates these feelings because he never learned how to really process them. He doesn't know if he has to blame himself, his shitty excuse of a father, or Zeff. Well, maybe not Zeff. The old man had enough on his plate while raising him as it was. Sanji decides to blame it on Judge because honestly, the root of most of his issues stems from that shitty old man anyway. Placing the blame on someone does little to actually help, but it's a distraction from his growing realization of how much he cares for Zoro.

He cares for Zoro. No, he holds an unreasonable amount of affection for the scarred swordsman that haunts his thoughts now more than ever. Fuck questioning sexuality when it's undeniable that he's absolutely whipped for the big idiot. Theres no room for denial anymore, not when his touch had become branded across Sanji's skin for the foreseeable future.

Stress cooking does little to soothe him and it's the same with smoking. At least Luffy gets to enjoy snacks to his hearts content. Its the little things, he tries to tell himself. He also reflects on his conversation with Zoro. How he honestly felt afraid of what he felt when the swordsman confronted him. He felt afraid of someone genuinely caring for his emotional wellbeing. He's anxious over what that means, what it would do to him if Zoro truely meant what he said. All the things voiced about him and the implications that he's...handsome in the eyes of Zoro.

Sanji is emotional. It comes with him being sentimental as well. He's the black sheep of his biological family in every way. He loved too hard, and got hurt too fast. He loved even when it ended in betrayal. Secretly, he loves unconditionally. What would happen if he loved Zoro like that, and what if it already happened and he's too late to stop it? Would Zoro hurt him just like everyone else has? Would he be pushed away eventually after the thrill of their theoretical short lived relationship?

It keeps him up at night, that conversation replaying in his head as he stares at Zoro's sleeping silhouette. He falls asleep to his breathing, echoing throughout the room over everyone else's breath and snores. He wakes up every morning before the sun greets him and pretends nothing happened in his dreams where Zoro's gentle touch and admiration lingers softly over his mind.

Zoro knows. Well, not exactly. He's not a mind reader like how Luffy seems to be, but he knows that distancing himself from Sanji is actually doing the opposite of what he thought it would do. At this point, the swordsman isnt sure where to go from here.

Sanji's actions contradict his words. Sanji stares at Zoro. Not so much that it's s uncomfortable but it's enough to be noticeable. Sometimes he swears he can see Sanji's eyes dart across his face and down to his lips before looking away. It's confusing. Didnt Sanji hate Zoro's advances towards him? Because thats what they were in hindsight.

Zoro was unconciously flirting with the cook in his own weird way. And yeah, he's a little stupid for not realizing the implications behind his actions at first, but it all started as genuine curiosity. He didnt mean for it to affect their rivalry. Now, he's not sure where to go from here.

It's driven him between a rock and a hard place and unforfunately for him, Nami decides to intervene again. This time, Nami drags Zoro to her and Robin's shared room on the Sunny for privacy and possibly interrogation. He's certain that this time he wont be able to escape. Unfortunate.

"Okay, so heres how this is gonna go," Zoro and Nami are now seated across from each other, where theres two beds and enough room for decent sized dressers on each side. Zoro sits on what he assums is Robin's bed with his arms crossed, "You will tell me everything- And i mean it! I will know if youre lying -and I will help you. Im sick and tired of you both being miserable and gay! It's giving everyone second hand embaressment." She demands, narrowing her eyes with a challenge for Zoro to protest or say no.

Zoro is smart enough to know what is and isn't a losing battle. This is one of those. Nami can be terrifyingly persistent once she sets her mind on something, and today it seems to be resolving the weird and awkward tension between him and Sanji. The swordsman resigns himself to his fate quickly and prepares himself to be trapped here on Robin's bed for the foreseeable future.

"Fine witch," Zoro sighs, "But if you tell anyone I will not be responsible for my actions." He huffs out in acceptance for his inevitable interrogation.

"Oh please like that'll actually scare me. Plus besties never snitch." Nami rolls her eyes. She gets comfortable on her bed and look at zoro expectantly. He rolls his eyes and relaxes his posture a bit.

Zoro starts talking, beginning with the first instance of his realization of Sanji having dual colored eyes, leaving out a lot of "unimportant" details. He mentions the second, and the third instance, and their conversation from a few days ago and how he tried to respect Sanji's establishment of a boundary and how he's confused now that Sanji stares at him. Nami listens with her chin resting on her fist and nodding along the way, surprisingly not interrupting once. He finishes speaking and he knows his face is red with embaressment, but he feigns nonchalance and waits for Nami's input.

"Zoro," Nami sighs, "Youre the dumbest bitch I know." She says while giving the man a look of sympathy, but not one that actually means it. More like the look of someone who is so incredibly done with your shit that they have no choice but to tell you so.

"What the fuck, Nami!? Im not dumb!" The swordsman retorts loudly.

"Anyways," his best friend ignores his arguing in favor of getting to the task at hand, "Luckily, this is fixable. For making the entire crew feel awkward for two weeks, I'm adding a 200 percent tax increase to your debt." She smiles mischeviously, and thats when Zoro realizes that one, he's never getting out of debt, and two, he's been forced to accept Nami's help in unfucking up his unconcious attempts to flirt with Sanji.

"First order of business is that you have absolutely no game." Nami begins with a shit eating grin to match the absolutely insulting statement. Zoro briefly reconsiders their friendship.

"Shut the fuck up I obviously do." He rolls his eyes. Nami gives him the look. The one where her eyebrows are raised and her chin is tilted down slightly, matching the frown. It's that look she makes when she's trying to say 'Are you sure?' or 'Reconsider what you just said.' and it grates at Zoro's already increasing agitation.

He decides not to entertain her with a reply.

"Anyway," Nami sighs, massaging the space between her eyes with her thumb and forefinger to stave off a growing headache, "Im teaching you how to flirt. No, you cannot work out in front of Sanji- dont give me that look you muscle brained idiot!" She says while looking at Zoro's ever increasing looks of annoyance and audacity, because first of all, no he definitely was not going to do that, and second of all, it could hypothetically work. Probably.

"Fine," He huffs. He'll let the witch do whatever. It's not like theres anyone else he can talk to on the ship about this anyway, "No promises that I'll actually do what you tell me."

"Fucking- oh my god why am I friends with you?!" Nami complains before flopping down on her bed, groaning loudly at Zoro's malicious cooperation. Zoro basks in the momentary power he has in this situation.

For the next few hours, Nami allows Zoro to stay in the womens quarters for the sole purpose of learning how to actually flirt. He's not sure if shes a reliable source, being a lesbian and also having a girlfriend already, but if he voiced this opinion out loud the redhead would probably kick him out. He only restrains himself because this room is the only one so far where he feels the least amount of awkwardness regarding his situation with Sanji.

Robin stops by every now and then and gives him a smile. It doesnt make him feel very comfortable but it's the thought that counts. She doesnt say anything about him being there, anyway. He makes an effort to at least not lay on the bed he's sitting on, though. He may be lazy but he does hold enough respect for the women in the crew to not fuck with their shared safe space.

Suddenly, it's the evening and dinner is around the corner. Nami shoves a barely enlightened mossy swordsman out of the womens bedroom to finally be free of that headache. Also known as a crash course to flirting with your rival/friend/whatever the fuck else they got going on.

Zoro makes his way to the gallery, taking his time to look out and observe the oncoming sunset that bathes the sky in shades of pink, orange, blue, and yellow. It would be a pretty sight to fall asleep to, he thinks, but the cook would kick his ass off the ship if he decides to sleep through dinner again.

Entering the gallery, everyone except Nami is already there. She's right behind him a second later and taking her seat at the kitchen table.

Numerous conversations are heard as food is served. Franky and Usopp are wildly talking about different types of projectiles the sunny could use, Nami and robin are talking amongst each other in low voices, giggling in between sentences. Chopper and luffy are laughing together, and Zoro goes to sit next to luffy like he usually does. Just as he sits down, the cook lands a kick to his mid back, making Zoro scowl.

"The fucks that for!?"

Sanji rolls his eyes while placing plates of food down for the crew, "For being late, dumbass."

"Nami is late too!"

"And? She'd never be late on purpose, Marimo." as Sanji speaks, he dodges the hilt of Zoro's sword to his side instinctively and has the audacity to give a cheeky grin.

Dinner passes by normally. Everyone's loud conversations meld together gradually and soon everyone except Sanji and Zoro leave. Zoro takes his usual spot beside the cook, drying dishes and leaving them on a towel afterwards so they can both put them away.

Zoro has half the mind to bring up Sanji's staring, but decides against it. It leaves the air silent, neither him nor Sanji speaking up as they finish their side work for the night. Even then, Zoro's unable to speak when Sanji immediately leaves afterwards without a word.

The kitchen feels empty without their bickering, and Zoro is determined to bring that life back into it. He just needs to figure out how.

Despite Nami's advice, Zoro has an idea. If the idiot cook doesnt see what he sees (His pretty face first of all, but Zoro thinks of his strength too. How Sanji easiely brushes off conflict like it's nothing despite the injuries that'll heal far faster than his own), then he'll make him see it. Frilly words never were Zoro's style, anyways.

One night before they all go to sleep and Zoro takes night watch, he corners the blond in the bathroom. Nami would probably be kicking his ass because of his timing, but a mirror is needed for his plan to work and the bathroom is the only place with one other than the women's bedroom.

When Zoro enters, Sanji turns to look at him before going back to washing his hair, his back towards Zoro. "Leave me alone, Moss, I'm im not in the fuckin mood," He grumbles to Zoro, who stands there waiting for Sanji to stop talking.

"Nope, I need a mirror for this and for you to listen for five minutes." Zoro replies, and when Sanji turns to argue his protests are gone from his lips when he sees a look of determination. Confused, annoyed, and also curious, Sanji doesn't reply.

Zoro walks up to Sanji until he's standing right behind him. The swordsman moves to kneel so they're relatively at the same height, but the stool makes Sanji slightly taller as he sits there and eyes Zoro warily.

"Whats going on with you, Moss? I'm trying to wash my hair." Sanji says, and Zoro can tell an insult dies on his tongue when he places his hands on Sanji's shoulders.

Zoro turns Sanji in front of the mirrior in the bathroom, the stool Sanji is seated on creaking lightly and scratching against the tile. Sanji remains speechless, still unable to brush off Zoro's palms on his bare shoulders like how he'd usually do.

"Tell me what you see, cook" He says, uncharacteristically soft underneath the edge his voice always seems to have. Sanji flinches when the swordsman's calloused hands tuck his frings behind his ear, displaying his face to them both.

"What the hell is up with you? Did Luffy hit your head too hard?" Sanji furrows his eyebrows at the mirror and looks at Zoro. Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Just tell me what you see about yourself, shit cook, I'll leave ya alone after or whatever." He grumbles back, the baritone of his voice vibrates against Sanji's back. It reminds him of Zoro's compliment, his face too close to his while they stand on the deck of the Sunny just days ago. He chooses to ignore how it makes him shiver.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and his first instinct is to look away. Zoro, being the perceptive bastard that he is, notices and squeezes his shoulders in a way thats strangely reassuring.

"It doesnt have to be fancy, cook, I know you like to use big words 'n shit so don't make your brain fuckin explode." Sanji bristles a bit at that but bites back a nasty insult so he can entertain Zoro's weird exercise on his own self reflection.

In the mirror he always sees his mom at first, but with both eyes uncovered and his hair pushed back for once, he sees himself. The first thing he sees is his eyebrows and eyes. He decides not to bring up his eyebrows.

"Well, for your information I see my eyes, but you already know that."

Zoro stays silent, and Sanji shuffles in his seat. He's suddenly aware he was literally in the middle of rinsing his hair of shampoo a few minutes ago and the entire situation is both awkward and uncharacteristic of Zoro in multiple ways. It's out of character, and he should have kicked out the moss ball when he had the chance, but now in the too small bathroom of the Sunny he feels like it's only him and Zoro. It leaves a weightless feeling in his chest, settling in with the creeping anxiety of looking at his own reflection. The contrasting feelings make him hesitate before he speaks.

"I see.." He hesitates, not knowing exactly what Zoro is getting from this or what he wants to hear, "My eyebrows, I guess. Wait, you've never seen both at once." Sanji chuckles at that, because his eyebrows are certainly something. The curl points in the same direction, but it's unnoticeable with how he wears his hair.

"Yeah, they're weird as fuck." Zoro mumbles, and the blond has to laugh or else the swordsman's voice would get to his head.

"Okay, I also see freckles. Those are new. Only started showing up when I joined you all." And Sanji now notices how the freckles cluster on the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, and his shoulders. They're scattered everywhere else on his body.

Sanji starts to realize the point of Zoro's questioning now. He looks at the fogged mirror, just visible enough to notice how his blush not only spreads across his cheeks but also down his neck. Embarrassing. This whole situation is embarrassing not only because of where they are but also because he's realizing that Zoro is trying to make a point that is too close to unearthing his insecurities. He would have expected this from Luffy, but sometimes he forgets how Zoro's intelligence is masked behind his swordsmanship and how much he sleeps during the day.

And he's naked, but honestly thats the least of his problems at the moment.

"I see my hair, I guess?" Sanji tries to only focus on his face. Its not easier, but it also sets up a mental boundary. Zoro hums, looking at Sanji through the mirror. Sanji hesitates before speaking again, "My hair is actually wavy," He thinks about his mom's wavy blonde hair, and how he always thought it looked pretty even before she passed, "Its damaged, though. Straightened to hell and back with one of those hot combs."

Sanji thinks back to the hot combs. They were old as shit, the kind that needed to be heated up with a flame. The memories make him chuckle a bit, and Zoro smiles back. The same smile he wore when they sparred on the deck, with his dimples visible yet again to confirm to Sanji that he does have them.

His smile makes his heart skip a beat, like drums he'd hear in one of those old instrumental CDs he kept in his room as a kid. Before he has the chance to back away, to push Zoro out the door and forget this ever happened, Zoro straightens his back again.

He turns in his stool to look up at Zoro and he's not sure what the swordsman sees right now, but he's afraid to ask as his gaze is soft. So damn soft as he looks at him and his hand reaches again to pull his hair hair back over his eye like it was before. Stringy strands of heat damaged locks fall back into place.

Then he leaves. He just...leaves. The damn idiot just turns around and walks out the door like nothing even happened.

Thats the second time this has happened yet the first where Sanji is the one on the receiving end of it, and it makes him grab his towel to bunch it up in his fists and let out a scream into it as he processes everything. He processes how he was forced to notice how Zoro looked at him, and it was Zoro's own weird fucking way of saying "You're beautiful".

"He's so fucking ridiculous oh my god.." Sanji mumbles into the towel. His hair routine is officially long forgotten.

#this went from zoros pov to sanjis instinctively ngl #also nami being the best wingman PERIODDD #btw nami in this is dating vivi #bc theyre cute together <3 #uhhhh yeah i need a title for this...#one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji with heterochromia

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loupy-mongoose · 10 months ago

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I have a very silly question for you.

Which of your characters would you assign as the protagonist to each mainline pokemon game.

(so for example, Randy was the protagonist of your BDSP/platinum playthrough, and Lav is for paldea)

duplicates are allowed

For the fun of it, I'll throw in which starter they'd pick as well. :3

Randy would LOVE to go to Alola, so I would like to have him be the protagonist of Sun/Moon. His starter.... I could see him picking Popplio. Surfing buddy. :3

Akoya I see fitting well in Sword/Shield. If she knew the starters' final forms, she'd pick Grookey. Big cool ape resonates with her. X3

Lav... I'm just gonna keep it to Paldea, and not even share which starter she'll pick.

I can also see Momo being in Sw/Sh, picking the go-getter Scorbunny. I feel like she would really get into the sports theme it has going. Also the giant Pokemon. XD

Midas I could see being in Black/White (maybe the 2's as well, but more so the first ones). With me seeing him as a Grass type trainer, he'd probably pick Snivy. (It could be fun to have him train the stereotypical "Smugleaf", lol)

Alola (Su/Mo) also feels like a good match for Persim, but it's hard to decide which starter he'd pick. He really wouldn't be a great trainer, per se. I feel like Litten would pick him, and drive him to be a better trainer. XD

Rosemary... Hmmmmmm.... Maybe she'd hear tales of Hoenn from her dad, and go on to be the protagonist of Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, or more likely, Omega Ruby or Alpha Sapphire. She'd absolutely pick Torchic, assuming she knew their final forms. Blaziken is just her type.

I'll throw in the Branch crew too, why not~

Jovial I could see in Kanto--FireRed, LeafGreen, Let's Go. (maybe the OG GameBoy games, but I don't like playing them lol). She'd pick Squirtle.

Nicodemus I feel would be in HeartGold/SoulSilver (or the OGs). He'd pick Chikorita for it's chill vibe.

Pari... It's actually really hard to see her becoming a trainer. She already went alongside some trainers on their journey, and had a front-row seat to the trials and dangers they went through. So she might be a bit hesitant to do it herself. She'd much rather tag along with one of her human friends should they do another trainer journey. Mostly to protect them if something happened.

I don't know if that's what you meant, but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless. X3

#thebulletbot #ask #Linden Roots #branch #info #lore #character lore #I guess? XD #It's in-character so I'd say it counts.

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gffa · 10 months ago

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I read the first volume of Nightwing 2011 and it violently flung me back in time to when the Nu52 stuff was first coming out and how mad I was about all of it, that I'm not wrong that I was bored by all this new stuff--I read that entire volume and only the Alfred cameo had me even consider making a post about it, despite that it was prime content, Dick inheriting the Circus! William Cobb mention! Court of Owls! Kyle Higgins writing it! and yet I had nothing to say about any of it--but the bigger lesson I took away was: I remember that mindset of constantly being mad at comics and it's exhausting just thinking about it. "Nobody hates comics like comics fans" was funny to me back in the day, but now I'm too tired to want to go down that road again, I've done my time in the salt mines, I'm parking my butt out in the sunshine now. There's a lot of things I'd love to see done better about current day comics, but there's a lot that's genuinely just fun, I enjoyed Gotham War, I enjoyed the hell out of Beast World, it was so silly and fun, I'm enjoying Tom Taylor's Nightwing series, I'm enjoying viewing Babs as Batgirl through my own lens of what invisible disabilities are like to go through and how much you have to claw back even when it's not "obvious" that you're not fully able-bodied, all things that sure could be better, but I have personally chosen to stay in the sun and find the joy. Reading Nightwing 2011 I was catapulted back into that mindset of Being Mad At Comics and it was just the opposite of fun, I don't want to spend my time being mad about the costume color's change from blue to red, I want to read a comic and find a moment of joy and come yell at the internet about it. So, like. If you see me be doggedly positive and think my taste is shit, fair enough, but also just know that I have decided I am letting go of my anger at the funnybooks as much as I can because, at the end of the day, they're comic books and I have a choice: Be mad or have fun. I'm choosing fun because I, on a personal level, need that. (And also I think there's a lot to have fun with!) (This post also brought to you by Star Wars. Oh my goooood there's so much I could complain about in Star Wars, some of it is So Bad, but like. Where is that going to get me, on a grand scale? Nowhere fun! This is my hobby, I'm skimming over the bad and finding the stuff that I think is cute or funny, because I nearly left the SW fandom a bunch of times because constant negativity was absolutely killing any energy I had to be here.)

#lumi.txt #fandom

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cozzzynook · 6 months ago

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I love LOVE soundbee, hear me out. I love how you mentioned that they would go to raves together, with a chance of soundwave being the one who made the concert. I live for soundbee content, anymore headcanons for them? I’ll drop some of my own!! <33

- they would bond over music, because of course they do. bee loves hearing his bf talk about his music.

- they would dance together, wether it be a slow dance or just dancing together to rave music. soundwave almost always take the lead, he’s having fun and bee loves that.

- sound would make a playlist for bee, y’know, take it as a kickstarter for their relationship. bee would listen to it when working or driving, even humming it on his way to other places. SW loved that he does.

- bee would buy cybertronian equivalents of records and vinyls for SW, once even buying him a new record player. he knows how much sound loves music, might as well enhance it

- sound would get bee all sorts of items that resemble those of earth or items imported from earth! he knows how much his bee loved that planet, especially seeing him in the diplomatic meeting chatting away with earth’s own diplomat(s).

love them, even with their positions in this reformatted cybertron, they’ll hang out secretly. before officially dating, secretly of course. the day Optimus finds out is the day he blows a fuse.

— ♫

I love these head canons so much music anon!

Especially Optimus blowing a literal fuse when he learns his bitty is dating a decepticon and such a dangerous high ranking one!

Soundwave does not make the situation any better because he is a troll and will roll with the punches if Optimus does too much, which he does. Bee is trying to play peacekeeper but its a failed mission. Optimus is stubborn and so is Soundwave and they have petty arguments for years about this.

Soundwave and Bee go off to get conjunxed. They want to be alone with Soundwaves cassettes of course.

They go off to a peaceful place where its just them and conjunx during the setting sun overlooking a forest. They sit and enjoy the feeling of the others frame as their sparks dance and a piece of each of them is left in the other. The connection is so easy and feels like home.

Its like a puzzle they didn’t know was missing a piece finally was found and now everything just makes sense.

Thank you for these lovely head canons

#soundbee #soundwave headcanons #soundwave #bumblebee #bumblebee headcanons #transformers

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underhanded-lamb · 2 years ago

Photo

Moon shows you Sun’s old trainer card. ☀️🌙🌟

the joke is that they are simultaneously bajillions of years old but also shouldn’t technically exist yet but when you’re cooked in a single parent’s kitchen like what are you gunna do

☀ I really liked the collectable trainer card gimmick in Sw/Sh; I loved making cringe/gaudy cards and hoarding all the cards I found it was FUN y’all okay?! Also yes I made Sun a cringe trainer card behold

194 notes · View notes

funnylittlelad · 2 years ago

Text

Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Masterlist - AO3

<< Prologue | Rule Two >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 6.4k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, almost teenage car shenanigans, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an (redeemable) overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma., brief description of a minor cut.

Rule One: No Hanging Out Alone, Unless It's In Public

“Aren't you seeing Robin tomorrow ?” Your dad asks in response to a question you asked him.

He and Joyce are watching a rerun of some show they like.

“Yeah, but it’ll be with Steve. Robin wants some one-on-one time before that. I think there's something going on at school,” you lie a little too easily, “She’s been anxious about going back. I'm trying to help her not think about it this early.”

“Someone giving her a hard time?” Your dad quirks a protective eyebrow.

“It’s high school. I don't doubt there is.”

He hmphs and nods.

“Do you need a ride over there?” He checks.

“No, I can walk. It’s nice out,” you smile.

Robin truly doesn't live far. She's just a street away. Plus, it's late June and just after five. The air is warm and breezy as the sun starts to lower slowly.

“Alright, if you aren't home by nine the door will be locked,” he warns.

“I know,” you drone.

“You’re like a broken record,” Joyce chirps from beside your dad on the couch.

“At least a broken record would be pleasant to listen to,” you jab.

Joyce laughs, but your dad is unamused.

“Watch it or the door'll be locked at eight,” he threatens with a playful finger pointed at you.

“Okay, okay,” you chuckle.

You bid them goodbye and set out for Robin's. It's a short walk that you spend humming. You haven't seen Steve since his father cornered the two of you at the award ceremony. The rest of the evening was spent quietly making fun of other people there with your dad at the table. It was a light-hearted night after everything. Yet, you spent the whole time wondering if Steve is okay.

The sudden change in his demeanor is crossing your mind as you approach Robin’s. She’s reading on her porch swing already waiting for you.

“Hey, Rob,” you greet.

She smiles and snaps her book shut.

“You made a clean escape?” she asks.

“It's not really an escape,” you roll your eyes, “They knew I was leaving.”

“Barely,” she teases.

You plop down on the porch swing right next to her. Once you're settled you rest your head on her shoulder. It’s a nice quiet evening, like most in Hawkins. It’s only marred by the first rule your dad gave you, watching you from behind the line you crossed.

“Thank you for doing this, Robs,” you sigh.

She rests her head against yours. The two of you gaze at the sherbet sky above the house across the street.

“Don't mention it. I like you two together,” she tells you softly.

Her words bring a smile to your face.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you’re both so giggly and happy. It’s disgusting.”

You laugh and give her side a little pinch. She squeals and jumps. Before she has a chance to retaliate, Steve's car rolls up her driveway. You’re up and jogging over in an instant.

“Hey, Rob!” Steve calls by sticking his head out his window.

“Sup, dingus!” She calls back.

Steve’s head returns to the interior of his car as you climb in. He catches you in a quick kiss before you can say anything. You scrunch your nose at him dramatically when he pulls away. He mimics your expression causing you both to laugh. He pulls out of the driveway smoothly. As he drives down the street, he laces his fingers through yours. The back of your hand gets brought up to his lips so he can press a sweet kiss to the skin.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against your hand.

You smile at him as he drops your intertwined hands onto your lap.

“Missed you too,” you reply softly.

A smile spreads easily across his lips. He hums happily. A breeze brushes through his hair from where his window is cracked. After a moment, his smile tugs downward.

“I'm sorry about my dad,” he says.

“Me too,” you sigh.

“I’d rather deal with the Chief than my dad,” he admits.

“Yeah, you seemed… different around him.”

Steve takes an even breath through his nose.

“Yeah, I kinda have to be. I’m sorry if it was weird o-or-”

“No, Steve, it was fine. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” you assure him.

He glances at you with a tiny smile that you want to cradle in your hands. His hand squeezes yours.

“I’m okay now,” he says.

“You sound sweet on me, Harrington,” you smirk.

“Sweeter than pie,” he flashes you his own world-ending smirk.

“Aren't I the luckiest?”

“Oh, no, honey, that'd be me,” he’s quick to correct you.

You’re quick to look away to hide your flushed face. His hand tugs at yours for your attention.

“Hey,” he coos, “C’mon, don't get shy on me.”

Your glare is sweet on him. It earns an adoring smile that makes your fingertips buzz.

“What exactly d’you plan on doing with me once you get me alone in that house of yours?” You ask quietly as you creep up on his driveway.

“Honestly?” He lets out a breathy laugh, “I plan on wrapping you up in my arms and not letting go until I absolutely have to.”

“That right?” You inquire as he parks.

“That’s right,” he nods and kills the engine.

You lean in toward him, eyes on his pretty pink lips. He inches closer to you in response, eyes hooded. Just before your lips can brush against each other you speak.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” you tell him.

“Wha-” he starts, but you’re already gone.

You’re scrambling out of the car by the time he processes what's happened. He calls out for you as he struggles to free himself from his seatbelt. When he finally does he races up behind you. You’re so close to the front door, but it's been a while since you've gone running. Steve’s arms wrap around your center. He lifts you into a spin as you let out a shriek-like laugh.

“Steve,” you giggle as you struggle in his hold.

“Caught you,” he murmurs in your ear.

He doesn't let your feet touch the ground. Rather, he walks right up to the door holding you like that, only letting you go to open it. Once it's open he’s lifting you again to carry you in.

“Are you gonna let me go?” You laugh.

“Nope,” he chimes, “Already told you, m’not letting you go until I absolutely have to.”

“Fine,” you huff as if it's a chore, “If this is my fate, I guess I’ll just have to accept it.”

“Guess so,” he mumbles into your hair and kicks the door shut.

He brings you to the living room and drops onto the couch with you landing on top of him. The tip of his nose is warm as he burrows into your neck.

“What’s got you so touchy-feely?” You ask teasingly, loving this mood.

“You kidding? I haven't seen you in days and even then I couldn't touch you. I’m surprised I didn't go nuts,” he complains, “Plus, my parents had me practically ripping my hair out. I just… need this.”

You wiggle to turn in his hold. He loosens his arms to allow you. When you're nose to nose you bring a hand up to his cheek, drinking him in through every source you can. Those caramel apple eyes pour into you as if you’re the cure for everything that ails him.

“D'you wanna talk about it?” You whisper.

His mouth tightens and you think he’s going to say no. You expect him to shake his head and change topics. Steve nods so minuscule you nearly miss it.

“My dad was on top of me about wasting my life away. As far as he’s concerned, I’m basically promised to his stupid finance company in the city. My mom just goes along with whatever he says. I don't want to suffocate in a suit while stuck in some board meeting,” he vents.

“What do you want?” You ask softly, raking a hand through his hair.

His eyes flutter close at the touch.

“I don't know exactly, but not that,” he sighs.

“You’re eighteen, you don't have to know anything yet,” you tell him.

“It'd be a lot easier if I did.”

“Well, it may not be easy, but you’re not alone,” you mumble shyly.

His eyes open and find yours. A smile that warms you from the inside out spreads across his face.

“No, I’m not…,” a thoughtful knit of his brows and twist of his lips takes over, “Is Diane your mom?”

The stillness that grabs you doesn't go unnoticed by him. His hand starts to rub soothing circles on your back.

“She was, at some point. I haven't spoken to her since about a year after we moved back,” you answer.

His hand trails up until he’s cradling you where your jaw meets your neck. A warm calloused thumb skirts back and forth over your cheek. Your muscles loosen, the tension seeping out of them as you allow Steve to surround you.

“What happened? You don't really talk about when you lived in New York.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. Steve’s thumb moves to gently pull it free before he continues speaking.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“I want to,” you reply quickly, “I do. I’m just not used to talking about it.”

“Take your time.”

You give him a small smile.

“Things were fine in New York. We were happy, at least I thought we were,” you sigh, “I think my parents were having problems for a little while, but then Sara got sick.”

He nods in encouragement as you take a breath.

“They were better after that. For a while, anyway. Then Sarah got worse. She just kept getting worse and we tried to make her feel like she wasn't, but… But she knew. The-” your voice cracks a little and you clear your throat of the thick emotion that's settled there, “By the end, they were barely even speaking outside of the hospital. My mom was gone after the funeral. They divorced a few months later and I was given a choice.”

“Mom or dad?” Steve asks.

You nod.

“Hawkins or New York. Honestly, part of it was how pissed I was at my mom for leaving my dad like that, but New York was starting to feel haunted. A new start sounded nice. Besides, I couldn't leave my dad he was… God, he was such a mess. I’m not sure he would've even been eating if I wasn't there to make sure he did,” you get a little lost in the memories.

Your voice becomes a touch distant. Steve frowns.

“So, you came back to take care of your dad?” He questions slowly.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Who took care of you?”

You blink at him blankly for a moment.

“I- I- uh- Well, at- at first my mom. Y’know she called to check in or I would call her. At least once a week, but then… Then Bill showed up one day. Next thing I knew there was a wedding and a baby,” you say the word like it's dirty, “and I… I wasn't important anymore.”

“Who’s taken care of you since then?”

“I’ve gotten pretty good at taking care of myself,” you shrug insecurely.

Steve clearly isn't a fan of that answer. He wears it on his face, not even attempting to hide any emotion from you. It's a swift motion as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

“M’gonna take care of you from now on,” he kisses the promise into your warming skin.

He pulls back to take in your flustered features.

“I think I’d like that,” you tell him quietly as you take him in with wide eyes.

You’re drowned in kisses after that. The two of you make a mess of giggles, light kisses, and cuddling limbs on the couch. The night passes you far too quickly. There's never enough time with Steve. An untouched VHS sits on the coffee table. You had picked something to throw on but never got that far. Instead, you spend most of the time as Steve promised, wrapped up in his arms while he takes care of you. He’s absentmindedly pressing gentle kisses to your hand as you wonder how your dad could ever think he’s capable of anything else.

The clock on the wall ticks closer and closer to nine. Each stroke of the second-hand sinks dread in your chest a little more. You don't want to leave Steve. Even if you will be seeing him again tomorrow.

“How d’you think your dad would feel,” Steve starts quietly as he plays with a piece of your hair, “if you spent the night at Robin’s?”

“He might go for it…,” you trail off with a smirk.

Steve shoots up into a sitting position. He snatches the phone from the end table and hands it to you. The goofy smile on his face causes you to roll your eyes as you chuckle. You dial Robin first. She picks up after a handful of rings.

“Buckley residence.”

“Hey, Rob, would you be able to cover for me tonight?” You ask.

“I’m confused, I thought I was already doing that,” she answers after a beat.

“Yes, you are, but I was going to see if my dad cared if I stayed at your place tonight,” you explain.

“Oh, I mean, sure, as long as you don't think he’s going to show up on my front porch with a rifle,” there's a shrug in her voice.

“You’re the best, Robin. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, just remember that when you're writing your vows,” she teases.

You ignore Steve's curious eyes as your face reddens.

“Alright, goodbye.”

You don't waste a moment hanging up and dialing your house.

“This is Hopper,” your dad answers lazily.

“Hey, dad,” you greet.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You need a ride?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I was actually wondering if you cared if I stayed at Robin’s tonight,” you grimace as you ask, expecting nothing good.

“When would you be home?”

“After work tomorrow. I’ll just go there from here, it’s not a big deal,” you answer.

“You sure you’ll be able to get there?”

You roll your eyes at the expected third-degree.

“Yeah, she works with Steve tomorrow so he can give us both a ride in.”

There's a moment of loaded silence.

“Alright,” he sighs, “As long as you’re home for dinner.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” you promise, “Love you, good night.”

“Love you, good night.”

You hang up and beam at Steve. He beams right back. An entire night with Steve. It doesn’t even matter if nothing happens tonight. Just the simple act of being with him is enough. The movie finally ends up on after that, but it's mostly background noise. When your curfew comes and goes, Steve leaves to find you clothes to sleep in. You explore the images on the walls of Steve growing up to a certain point. If you believe the story that the pictures tell, he never grew past fifteen.

A subtle pang echoes in your chest at the thought of Steve being left alone for so long. At least you have a family that loves you, despite their problems. Steve doesn't even have that. If he’s determined to take care of you as no one else has, you're determined to love him as no one else has. Even if you’re not sure you're ready to call it love. It’s toeing ever closer to that line.

Steve comes back with a pair of green basketball shorts and an old swim team shirt. They aren't as big as you’d imagine, but they smell like him. Crisp and sweet like cinnamon and apples. His eyes drag up and down your form when you step out in the clothes. Pink blossoms on his cheekbones as you smile shyly under his gaze. The moment you're within reach, his hand shoots out and takes hold of your wrist. He pulls you into him in a fluid motion, kissing you as soon as your chests press against each other. When he pulls back he rests his forehead on yours.

“You look good,” he comments.

“I’m in your clothes,” you chuckle.

“Yeah, exactly,” he grins.

There’s a good thirty minutes of you making fun of his room and the sheer, ungodly amount of plaid. He pouts as you tease him.

“My mom did it when I was like seven, okay?” He whines.

“Why haven't you changed it?” You laugh.

“I don't know, I never thought about it,” he shrugs.

“My point exactly, Stevie.”

It's when you’re settling in for bed that reality catches up with you. It crashes down with all the force of a tsunami. Thankfully, you have Robin to sound the siren and give you a head start. The phone trills obnoxiously as you cozy into Steve’s bed. He lets out an exasperated sigh before answering the landline next to his bed.

“Hello?” he answers.

When he freezes you look up at him curiously.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “O-okay, we’ll be there in ten just stall until we get there.”

He slams the phone down and turns to you with wild eyes.

“Your dad is at Robin’s, we have to go,” he informs you.

You’re confident you've never moved so fast in your life. You don't bother with your clothes or any nonsense like that. Steve doesn't even put on his shoes, opting to drive in his socks.

“Why did he show up?” You agonize.

“He brought your uniform. Robin told him you were in the bathroom, she said she left the window open for you to climb in through,” Steve explains.

You nod, trying very hard not to hyperventilate. All it takes is for your dad to see Steve’s car. Everything is so close to falling apart. Steve parks on the street behind Robin's house. You plant a rushed kiss on his lips with a promise to see him tomorrow before sprinting. There are two backyards between you and the window you need to get through. Silently, you thank whatever is out there that you did track in high school. The fences were the hardest part, but you managed to haul yourself over them with only a scratch as evidence.

A bottle of soap gets toppled over as you crawl through the window. Quickly, you pick it up and try to straighten yourself out. Your face is beet red, your chest is heaving to catch air, and your skin feels ablaze. As fast as you possibly can, you splash water on your face and collect yourself. Before leaving, you flush the toilet for good measure. With one final steadying breath, you kick off your shoes and exit the bathroom. You can hear your dad’s voice carry down the hall.

“Dad,” you feign surprise, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes snap to you. You swear there's relief in there. As if he was moments away from interrogating Robin about your whereabouts. He holds up your folded arcade uniform.

“Figured you’d need this,” he says.

You take the clothes gratefully.

“Thanks, you really didn't have to,” you smile.

He manages a smile in return, but there's an uncertainty behind it. It’s an uncertainty usually reserved for suspects, not you.

“Are you feeling okay? You look feverish,” he comments, examining your still half-flushed form.

“I’m fine, I just- erm- ate something that didn't sit well with me,” you cringe as you lie.

He immediately holds up his hands to stop you before you have a chance to elaborate. You smile meekly.

“What happened there?” He nods toward your arm.

An angry red scratch tears across your upper arm, right beneath your sleeve. The offending sleeve had gotten caught on Robin’s fence on your way over it.

“Robin got a cat,” your eyes flicker to her.

“Yeah, it’s in my room,” she backs you up.

Your dad’s eyes bounce between the two of you for a moment. Ultimately, they land on you. He eyes you for another moment before deciding there's not enough evidence to charge.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he sighs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say.

The two of you hug before he leaves. You press your back against the door once it's shut. Robin’s wide eyes meet yours.

“Holy shit,” she states slowly.

“Holy shit,” you echo.

“He was definitely suspicious,” she tells you.

“It’ll be fine,” you shake your head mostly trying to convince yourself, “He has nothing to prove I did anything wrong.”

“You’re dressed like the dingus,” she gestures to your clothes.

You look down at the offending garments. Steve’s scent still sticks to them. Cold pours over you as you realize you just hugged your dad while looking and smelling like Steve.

“You don't think he noticed, do you?” you ask with furrowed brows.

She frowns, causing you to frown. The answer hangs silently between you. Sleep isn't restful tonight. Guilt plagues your dreams showing you distorted images of your father. In some he’s angry, in others he’s hurt, and in the worst ones, he’s just as depressed as he was when you first moved back. It was such a close call. Too close a call. Yet, you still find yourself longing to see Steve again.

You get more careful and it pays off. Rendezvous with Steve has become a weekly thing. Jonathan isn't too happy, but your dirt on him is enough to stop him from snitching. Mostly, he just hates having to wait up to make sure you come home. Your dad’s suspicion seemingly dies, making inconveniencing Jonathan worth it.

Lying doesn't feel good, but you’re getting better at it. At least, you think you are. There are still times your dad levels you with an uncertain stare that twists your gut, but you can ignore that. You don't attempt another sleepover. The first time scared you enough to wait a while on trying that again.

As mid-summer crawls into late summer, the heat closes in like it's tightening its grip on Hawkins’ throat. Before you know it, you're staring down the barrel of the anniversary of Sara’s death. A few days before, your dad knocks lightly on your open bedroom door. You look up from where you lay on your bed reading. He’s in uniform.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, d'you wanna grab lunch?” He asks.

“Sure, all of us?”

“No, just us.”

You give him a small smile with a nod. He leaves you to get ready, shutting the door behind him. When you're finished, you meet him in the living room. Will and El are playing a board game, waiting to leave for the Wheeler’s. You hug them both before you go. If either of them thinks it's weird they don't make any indication of it. It’s a tough week. Everyone in the house knows that.

The sight of the chief’s truck tightens your chest. Any space of your dad’s has felt different since you started lying. As if just by being here, he can read your mind and catch your lies. He gives you control of the radio. You turn it to a rock station you know he likes.

You don't think to ask where you're getting lunch. When you get there you kind of wish you did. Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the diner where Steve and you had your first kiss. You don't know what difference it would have made, but the warning of such a reminder while you're with your dad would've been nice.

“How’s everything going?” He asks as you slide into cracked a booth.

He smiles at the waitress to signal for menus.

“Good,” you reply, but it comes out more as a question.

“I'm just checking in,” he explains a little defensively.

“Okay, sorry,” you chuckle.

The waitress drops off the menus and takes your drink orders. Coffee and a soda.

“So, you're good?” Your dad checks.

“Yeah, I’m good. I have an interview for the supervisor position next week,” you tell him.

Both of you thumb through the menu noncommittally. It's a diner, you already know what you'll be getting.

“You’re feeling good about it?”

“Yeah, I think I have a decent shot,” you shrug, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How are you? How’s everything with you and Joyce?” You ask with a silly effect in your voice.

It earns you a chuckle from him as the waitress sets down your drinks. Your dad orders you both waffles with eggs and bacon. It's what the two of you always get from diners.

“We’re good. I’m good,” he answers when the waitress walks away, “I think El is adjusting well. Can't tell about you on the other hand.”

“I’m adjusting just fine,” you assure him, “I’ll be a lot better adjusted with my own room…”

“We're working on it,” he sighs.

The Government gave you hush money for all the Upside Down-related trauma. The trick is finding something that will fit all of you and keep you relatively distanced from the greater Hawkins population. The latter is your dad’s request. He isn't a fan of neighbors. You had enough of those in New York.

“I know, sorry,” you say, “I almost have enough saved up for a car.”

“Jesus, when did you get so old?” He breathes with a shake of his head.

“When did you get so old?” You shoot back playfully.

You both chuckle.

“When did I get so old?” He agrees in disbelief.

“How’s the station?” You ask.

“You know those jokers. Same shit as always. Flo’s still bothering me to set you up with one of her grandkids,” he answers.

“Let me guess…,” you tap your chin in thought, “the one that's going to be a dentist.”

“Yup,” he nods.

“Boring,” you scrunch your nose.

“Nothing wrong with boring.”

“Except that it's boring .”

He rolls his eyes.

“What I mean is, you've been through your fair share. No shame in taking it easy… settling,” he attempts to reason.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh my god, are you trying to pawn me off on the dentist?” You gasp dramatically.

“No, I just mean that not everything has to be this grand adventure,” he levels you with a steady stare, “Sometimes I worry you’re more attracted to the thrill of something, and that ends up getting you hurt, or leading you into life-threatening situations.”

You frown as you meet his eye. He isn't completely wrong. That's what hurts about it. Your dad has seen a pattern and he’s trying to help you out of it. The only thing is, if the way out of it is someone like the dentist, you’re not interested. You’re not interested in taking the easy way and settling.

“Are you settling? With Joyce?” You ask quietly, toying with the straw in your cup.

“What? No, that's not- You’re taking what I said out of context,” he protests.

“Am I? I mean you just told me I should settle .”

“Okay, maybe I used the wrong words, but all I’m trying to say is sometimes you can be more interested in a situation than a person. Just try to be mindful of which is which,” he says.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, “is that why you brought me out? To grill me on my dating habits?”

“No, it's… It’s a hard week for both of us. Figured this would be nice,” he rubs his eyes.

“It is nice,” you promise, “But why have you been so weird about me dating?”

“It's not-” He pauses as the waitress places your food in front of you.

You both smile up at her and thank her before she goes. When she goes he continues.

“It’s not being weird. It’s being your father. At the end of the day, you can make your own decisions-”

“Can I?”

“What?”

“Can I make my own decisions?” You challenge.

“Yes,” he pauses, “to an extent.”

“There it is,” you chuckle dryly.

“Look, you might technically be an adult, but you live under my roof-”

“I know, I know.”

“Can we just-” he gestures curtly at the food on the table, “please?”

“Yeah,” you mumble and start cutting up your waffles.

The two of you eat in silence for a moment. The local news drones on a tv hanging in the corner of the ceiling behind the counter. Your dad empties his mug down his throat and sets it back down steadily.

“Are you seeing someone?” He asks suddenly.

The question causes you to choke on your waffle. You glare at him red in the face, thankfully able to pass that off as being from almost choking.

“What makes you ask that?” You counter.

“You've been different lately,” he shrugs, “Not bad different- just different.”

“And what if I was?”

“You can make your own decisions.”

“To an extent,” you remind him sarcastically.

“Right, to an extent,” he confirms pointedly, “So if I say they're bad news then they're gone.”

“Dad, try as you might, you can't police my life. When there’s something to tell you about my dating life, I’ll tell you,” you state evenly.

“I don't want- It feels like- I-,” he sighs in defeat, “It feels like something's changed with us. You don't come to me anymore.”

Your heart cracks in two. Hurt pours down until every inch of you is drenched in it. Guilt comes next.

“I just grew up, dad,” you shrug noncommittally, “I get to grow up.”

He nods solemnly, going to take a sip of his coffee before remembering the mug is now bone dry.

“Just because you’re grown up doesn't mean you can't come to your old man, alright? No matter how old or grown you get, I’ll be here when you need me,” he promises, “Even if it's stuff you think you can't come to me about. I’m here.”

Another hot streak of guilt tears through your chest.

“I know, dad,” you give a small smile.

He nods curtly, gesturing to the waitress for more coffee. The rest of lunch is spent talking about lighter subjects like stories of Callahan being dumb at the station. A little monster made of guilt comes to life, gnawing at your calves.

On the anniversary of Sara’s death, everyone knows to leave the Hoppers to do their thing. Your dad hides away in his room for twenty-four hours, sometimes more. You float around like a ghost haunting the house. You don't speak or interact, you just do what you need to do to fulfill your needs and go back to bed. Jonathan made himself scarce to allow you some privacy. It's not a well-thought-through plan. Hell, you’re willing to admit not a lick of thought went into it. All you know is that you’re falling into a deep spiral of guilt and grief and there’s only one thing- one person you want.

“Harrington,” Steve answers on the fourth ring.

“Hey, Steve,” your voice comes out much quieter and more strained than you expect.

“Hey,” he coos softly, “What’s wrong? What's going on?”

“I- uh- um,” you swallow your emotion, “Could you come over? Jonathan is gone tonight. I’ll sneak you through my window.”

“Your dad isn’t-”

“My dad won't be a problem today.”

“Right.”

“So, can you?”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You spend that ten minutes tidying up your side of the room. Steve can think what he wants about Jonathan’s slightly frenetic side. You drift through the house to see where everyone is. Your dad is locked in his room, Joyce is watching the Price is Right, and the Wonder Twins are going over something nerdy in their room. No doubt Will fell down a rabbit hole trying to explain one thing to El. When you go back to your room you lock the door and sit on the edge of your bed.

Not too much later. Steve's lovely face appears at your window. You fling it open and pull him in for a frazzled kiss. He’s smiling when you pull back. You realize you are too.

“Can I come in?” He asks.

“I guess,” you reply playfully.

Steve takes you into his arms on your bed. He sits with his back against the headboard and your back to his chest. His arms circle you to play with your hands. It's so easy to melt into him, to allow yourself to feel consumed by him.

“What can I do to help?” He whispers after a moment of silence.

He doesn't need to ask what the problem is. He knows. You told him the day was coming up.

“Just be here with me. I’m a-always alone. I j-just want you here,” your voice wavers as a couple of stray tears run free.

Steve is quick to wipe them away with sturdy hands.

“It’s okay. You're not alone anymore,” he promises softly, but earnestly.

“I’m not alone anymore,” you echo, confirming it to yourself.

There’s a beat where it feels like you're holding your breath. As if someone stuck a cork in you to trap all the emotion, careful not to spill any on Steve.

“You don't have to hold back. You can let go,” he whispers.

The tender touch of those words breaks the dam. Fat juicy tears stream down your face. At first, the sobs are ugly and make anything you say incomprehensible. After a few seconds of Steve wiping at your tears, you're able to calm down enough to speak and cry at the same time.

“Sometimes,” you hiccup, “I wish it was me instead of her.”

Steve holds you tighter.

“That’s normal. It’s like survivor’s guilt,” he murmurs into your ear, “but it’s not your fault that it was her and not you.”

You nod as a few sobs shake your system. Steve’s lips trail gentle kisses all over the top of your head. His fingers trace soothing shapes into your shoulder.

“I think…,” you stop yourself before deciding that you can say anything to Steve, “I think my parents wish it was me instead of her sometimes too.”

“Whoa,” Steve breathes while taking hold of your face to make you look at him, “That’s not true. I can tell you just from knowing your dad, that’s not true. I can guarantee that he would rather trade himself than you.”

“Then why aren't I ever enough?” You break in a whisper.

“What?” Steve’s brows furrow deeply.

“My parents- after me they had Sara. Which, fine, people have multiple kids. Then after everything m-my mom went off and had another kid, b-but I was right here! And I love El, I really really do, but I took care of my dad for years and he still needed someone else around,” you finally let long hidden emotions rise up and spill over, “Wh- why aren't I ever enough on my own, Steve?”

His hold tightens like a love-filled hug from a boa constrictor.

“You’re enough. You hear me? You're more than enough. It isn't you. Everyone handles loss differently. It isn't you,” he hushes reassurances into your ear.

The two of you fall asleep like that. When you wake up your eyelids feel like stone. Your face is sticky with drowsiness and stale tears as you process the sky outside the window. When Steve arrived the sun was setting. Now, it’s well below the horizon. Then it registers why you woke up. Someone is knocking carefully on the door.

“Shit,” you hiss, “Steve, wake up!”

Steve stirs with a groan. You clamp your hand over his mouth causing his eyes to widen fully alert. You press your free pointer finger to your lips to tell him to be quiet.

“Is everything okay in there?” Joyce’s voice asks.

“Y-yeah, just give me a minute,” you call back, voice hoarse from crying.

Steve’s expression is startled when you look back at it. The two of you scramble up trying to figure out what to do with racing hearts. You shove Steve down. He gets the hint, sliding underneath your bed. You take a breath to compose yourself. Joyce has dinner for you when you open the door.

“Is someone in here with you?” She asks, straining to look a little to check.

“What? No,” you lie.

She shrugs and hands you the plate.

“How are you holding up?” She smiles warmly.

“I'm okay. I’ll be okay,” you shrug.

She nods.

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” She raises her eyebrows at you.

You smile tightly and nod. She walks away and you quickly close the door. Steve’s head pops up over the side of the bed, hair a little disheveled.

“Anything good?” He jokes.

You can't help your laugh, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. He shouldn't, but Steve stays for a little longer. Mostly he just makes you feel normal, which is exactly what you need today. He looks nervous as he gets ready to leave.

“What’s up?” You tug at his hand for him to look at you.

He looks from where he stands in front of you, besides the open window. There’s a halfhearted tug of his lips.

“I told my parents I’m dating someone,” he tells you, “They were on me about going out with some corporate partner’s kid.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. The butterflies have escaped your stomach and now flutter in your throat.

“Wh- what did they say?”

“Not much, but they want to meet you.”

You blink in surprise.

“When?”

“We can work out the details later. I just wanted to tell you. I know it's complicated, but this is still important to me and I wouldn’t ever leave you alone with them,” he tells you.

You nod slowly, still really taking the idea in. The logistics don't matter right now. This is important to Steve. You’ll figure it out.

“Yeah, okay,” you agree.

A wider smile grows on his lips. He swoops down and steals a peck.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” He quirks his eyebrows up.

“Yeah,” you smile.

Then he’s gone and you're left with the memory of sharp green eyes on you. You’re going to be meeting Steve’s parents. Steve’s parents who you promised to not go near. Now, you’ll be officially meeting them, holding a conversation, and shaking hands. The guilt monster officially reaches your hip now.

<< Prologue | Rule Two >>

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #hopper!reader #stranger things fic

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