#they’ve been on my mind since july

[math-is-math]

GUESS WHICH BOOK I’VE BEEN READING 🥸

(completely and utterly ignores the fact that I’ve been gone for two months)

[jamiemoonymarks]

I wish there was was a wellness check-in for fic writers. Like a friendly “hey friend, you are you doing? You haven’t been active for 10 months. Are you feeling alright?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

[earfqwake]

Not sure if you only write for the Adult trio but if not, do you think you could make a version of big brother illumi x sister reader but instead of illumi it's Killua? Like, in the fic Y/n was originally supposed to be Killua's (But it was Illumi who mated with her instead) So could it stay like that? Again idk if you even write for him so it's fine if you can't do it! Thanks <33

Alpha Killua/Brother X Omega/Sister Reader Part 1

okay so like kind of the same basis as the illumi story just different as in reader actually is mated to killua this time, he is aged up and so is reader okay ? okay 🫰

tw: slight obsession from killua and yes incest !!! don’t read if you don’t want to. brother sister relationship though this part doesn’t contain anything explicit as it’s depicting their relationship growing up. will be multiple parts because i have a lot to say.

Light can’t exist without Dark.

When Kikyo Zoldyck found out she would be having twins she crossed her fingers and prayed to a god she didn’t even believe in that this would be the one, the heir of heiress of the family. Imagine the families surprise when two white haired babies were birthed on July 7th. Even Silva who rarely showed emotions other than stoicism was pleased at this moment in time.

Well Y/n, their new baby girl had half white hair and half (Y/H) colored hair but still this was the first time in the lineage Zoldyck history something like this happened. Though all that mattered is that Killua was born, both a male and with a full head of white hair. Since birth the two were inseparable, only fully calming their cries when they were near eachother.

At dinner they sat next to eachother always and if they didn’t the other would be visibly more upset. They napped together in random spots around the mansion always being found in the most peculiar places. Under Silvas Desk, Inside the kitchens cabinet, Underneath the staircase. And they shared a room by choice, until Silva forced them to have separate rooms at the age of 8. He needed to end their codependency as soon as possible. That didn’t stop them from sneaking into each others beds most nights.

Must have been fate, that such a blessing had occurred. Or so they’ve been told time and time again, but no one could break their bond that’s for sure. The pairs parents decided that they were more than likely going to end up as soul mates, promising strong pups no doubt.

Even though they were too young to have understood, Killua was relieved to hear this. No one would be good enough for his little sister, even tho he was only minutes older than you he never failed to remind you. He didn’t care much for other girls anyways none of them were as special as you.

They were polar opposites, Yin and Yang, but they fit together perfectly. Y/n was the sweetest most sensitive person, even though she was strong she had such a big heart. Too big of a heart for an assassin to have. A heart that Killua vowed to protect, he was his sisters keeper. The latter was more assertive and dominate than his sister, always leading them into trouble and taking the fall should they ever get caught.

“Where are they off to now?” Mumbled Kikyo as she frantically searched the forrest around the mansion for the twins. Only to find them running circles around Mike the enormous guard dog who didn’t seem to mind their company. Kikyo almost fainted when she saw your pretty blue gown now dirty from playing outside with your brother. You were her only girl so she was terribly overprotective of you.

Killua, like always hid you behind him as his mother threw a fit, because god forbid kids try be kids. “It was my fault mother, Y/n didn’t want to leave the garden but I took her out with me.” Which truthfully wasn’t a lie, you tried to warn Killua that Mama wouldn’t be happy but he said he’d leave you behind so you ran after him with teary eyes. But you had fun so a little punishment was worth seeing you smile.

Though he couldn’t always evade you from being punished he always tried. It meant the world to you that he would be willing to protect you no matter what. You wanted to be brave like him and you tried to, but your heart was just too soft. Hiding your tears and frowns didn’t work with Killua, he couldn’t just ignore it like the rest of his family.

When he would sneak into your room routinely sometimes he would catch you sobbing. Either because your punishment was too harsh, or you felt bad for having to kill your target. Your body sore from being attacked during a day of training, tears fell from your eyes as you sensed him enters your room. “I don’t want to do this Killua.. I’m trying to be strong for Mama and Papa but it hurts.” And he’d hold you and soothe you until you slept peacefully. Only then could he shed tears for you.

And he knows he shouldn’t like it, but you always cried the hardest for him and him alone.

“Onii!” She’d cry out and hug him after seeing the cuts and bruises he would have on his body after hours of pain resistance training. He didn’t cry much anymore, but it sure did hurt, though he’d never admit it to you. Hugging her closer, he couldn’t help but give you a tired smile. “I’m fine Y/n, see.” But she only whimpered and stayed in his embrace she knew he was lying. “Such a crybaby..” He sighed as if it troubled him, yet nuzzled his head into her soft hair.

Killua didn’t like seeing his sweet little sister cry, training was hard on her. At age 12 he begged his parents to opt her out of training, if he were to inherit the family business he didn’t want his sister to have to kill and possibly be killed that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Silva and Kikyo denied him this request, so he and Y/n ran away together to take the hunter exam.

————————————————————————

It sent us on such a journey, meeting many different people and making friends ! Real friends, we were never allowed to make any friends back on Kukuroo Mountain so imagine their surprise to see a boy their age also taking the exam. Y/n was infatuated with Gon, calling him her friend, staring at him, laughing at his jokes and it made Killua feel a bit jealous. Before Gon he never had to share Y/n’s attention before other than with his younger siblings.

“What’s the matter Onii?” Y/n questioned during the second phase of the hunter exam, they broke off from walking with Gon and the others because Kil grabbed her and rushed off into the fog without saying. He said nothing and just focused on navigating through the fog with a firm hold on her hand. Even if he was upset he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to you.

“Are you mad at me…? What did I do wrong?” Tears starting to form in her eyes. Chest tightening at the idea of upsetting her brother. Sighing he glances at her before staring ahead again. “It’s stupid… I just don’t want you to replace me with Gon.” Voice barely a whisper he confessed his feelings to you, only you could make him vulnerable.

You hug his arm and smile up at him noticing the slight blush on his serious face. “Don’t worry Killu-nii, he’s our friend, but you’ll always be my best friend okay? It’s always going to be me and you, we came here together and we’re going to leave here together!” How could he be so naive, she’s just so sweet and she always put Kil first. Smiling Killua nodded and when they met up with the group there were no more issues with jealousy. Y/n would never leave her brother.

And eventually they both arrived back to Kukuroo Mountain after parting ways with Gon, both holding Allukas hands. During their trip the pair having learned nen and being capable users were certainly much stronger than when they left.

Ironically Y/n developed a nen ability that made her able to use her tears to heal others, mainly for the sake of Killua who she couldn’t stand seeing injured. His heart was floating when she explained the reason why she developed this secondary ability. And selfishly enough he didn’t just let her heal just anyone with her gift, if he didn’t feel they were worthy of your time or tears they could rot in hell for all he cared. Y/n trusted Killuas judgement though and didn’t question how he assessed who she should or shouldn’t heal.

The twins were great fighters naturally but with the added ability of nen they were a unstoppable duo, just as Silva had predicted. Yet Killua saw the dangers of nen with his own eyes witnessing what it did to Gon.

————————————————————————

Again he came to his Father directly with the same request that fell upon deaf ears last time. This time around however, Silva agreed only if Killua were to become an assassin and continue the family business. A steep price for your safety but he needed to know you would be safe.

It hurt him more than any method of torture to see her sad but deep down a small part of him loved that she cried for him. She was someone who cared and always showed it, making sure to kiss each of his visible cuts. “There all better, right Kil?” She’d smile at him and he went weak for it every single time.

At puberty is when you find out your sub race, whether you’re a alpha, omega, or a beta. Killua obviously was an Alpha. Stubborn and a born leader, if he wanted something he was going to have it. And you? No doubt your an Omega, naturally submissive in nature listening to your parents and following after your brothers every word. Always nurturing and caring for him and your younger siblings. So it went without question when you both presented as your said roles.

The two of you were walking side by side in the forest surrounding the mansion straying very far from your home. “See I told you didn’t I, Y/n.” He said with a toothy grin his canines nice and sharp. I nod and smile sweetly at my brother, “I didn’t doubt you Killu-nii !” He called long before we could confirm what we were.

Recalling all the times he would tease you, “You have to be be an omega! Why else are you such a big baby!” Only eliciting a pout from me and he laughed poking my cheek with his finger. “I think it’s cute, don’t worry when we’re older I promise to take care of you and your moody feelings, I’ll be a good Alpha.” His voice sounded serious like he was trying to convince me and he only laughed again as I hid my smile and blush.

“Wait up, Kil!” I ran briskly after him as I shake myself out of that memory. He was much taller than me now, and stronger. And he grew his hair out into a long messy mullet, looking more and more like Papa as we got older. (He only grew his hair out because he got jealous when you would braid and play with Illumis long hair, but he’ll never admit that. Ever.) You changed too, your curves becoming more prominent especially with the training you did. Your beauty only increased as time passed your mother making sure to always keep you dolled up.

And boy did Killua enjoy it, always telling you how pretty you are and being sure to do small things for you like brush your hair or pick outfits out for you.

Grinning mischievously Killua only goes faster, disappearing into the greenery surrounding you.

I huff and puff as I search everywhere for him in the area we’re in. “Come on Kil! I’m not going to play with you right now.” But he doesn’t budge from his hiding spot probably thinking it’s funny. Fine two can play at this game! I pretend to be upset and sigh turnin around to head back home alone. “Fine I give up. I’m going home now Kil.” I barely get three steps back in the direction we came from when I feel his arms wrap around me from behind.

I jump slightly and weakly attempt to escape his arms feigning as upset but he won’t budge. “Where do you think your going hmm? I was only joking Y/n don’t be such a crybaby about it.” He snickers when I go lax in his arms holding me there for a moment before spinning me around so he can see my pouty face. “Y/nnnn? Don’t be like that, you do this to me all the time.” He drawls out my name as he looks me over.

Leaning closer to him I give him my sad eyes and he squishes my cheeks. “Such a baby.” He mumbles looking at my lips before looking back into my eyes. He drawls forward so our noses are touching gives me a bunch of small pecks on the lips. Furrowing his brows when I don’t reciprocate his affections he mumbles on my lips “ I‘m sorry Y/n.” Sweet moments like this are regular between you especially when you’re far from home like this.

I smile and feel my cheeks heat up under his hold on me. And he knows he has me right where he wants me. My arms extend as I place them over his shoulder loosely. Instantly he accepts this by pulling me in closer, his hand on the small of my back. Placing kisses all over my cheek he still speaks in a low tone, “You forgive me?” I nod my head basking in his affections but still not reciprocating his touches. His voice sounds desperate as he pulls me back far enough to get a good look at me again. “Why aren’t you kissing back then?”

i smile sheepishly and pretend I’m going in to kiss him but flick him on the forehead. Now it’s his turn to pout as I laugh and slip from his grip running through the forrest. Smiling himself he chases after me, “Hey! I knew you were faking it you big baby.” Secretly though he’s relieved that your back to your normal cheerful self, and you’ll be sure to make up for it when he catches you.

Your laughter rings throughout the forest as Kil catches up to you giving you a wolffish grin and pulling you in closely waiting for you to finally give him a kiss. 🦋

————————————————————————

Zeno watched the two leave the mansion, shaking his head before facing his son Silva. “It’s only a matter of time now before they give into their instincts. You shouldn’t let that boy run around with her without supervision or we will be expecting pups sooner than later.” Silva only sighed watching as they disappeared into the forest line, his father was right. Regardless of how stern he was Zeno had a soft spot for the little girl and so did Silva.

Not that it wasn’t anticipated by the family that the two were doting on each other already. But it was too soon for you two to fully mate you had to wait until you were 18. Only then would you know if the two of you were truly meant to be together. He would have to get you on heat suppressants in the mean time and have Killua sent away during ruts. Taking necessary precautions, you two weren’t little kids anymore.

𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭

-𝓴

[zuppizup]

Touch

July 5th: Hands/Touch-starved

The pain never leaves. Not really. Some days are better than others, of course. She's busy or distracted, or the burn is just dull enough that she can ignore it, but really, she doesn't think there's been a day in over two years where her wrist hasn't hurt.

It burns now, hot and obtrusive, pushing her to twist and turn in a cycle she knows is pointless. Only distraction will ease this ache, and lying in a bedroll, hoping desperately to catch perhaps a few more hours sleep before sunrise, there is precious little distraction.

She’d have given up, if she were alone. Accepted that sleep would be impossible for now, and at least tried to make some kind of use of her early start, but Callum is sleeping soundly beside her, and he deserves to rest.

Huffing, she blinks past frustrated tears. All she wants is to sleep; to have one day of peace but she knows this persistent pain is more than a fair price. She was the one who bound herself to this sentence and ultimately it is less than what she should be serving.

After all, she's lucky to even have her hand.

“Rayla, are you awake?”

She starts at the sound of Callum’s voice, cursing herself for waking him. “Not really,” she tries to reassure him. “Just trying to get comfy.” She turns, smiling reassuringly at him.

“What's wrong?” Callum shuffles a little closer to her, frowning.

“Nothing.” Her breath catches in her throat while she scrambles for something to say. It’s a stupid thing to complain about, small and petty, but she is too distracted by the pain and the lack of sleep to come up with something believable, something less pathetic.

“Rayla,” he sounds disbelieving. Maybe even disappointed. He’s shuffling closer to her, giving her an opportunity. An opening.

Trust.

“My wrist is bothering me,” she sighs, not wanting him to worry about this minor thing.

Callum's face falls, illuminated by the dying embers of their campfire.

“It’s nothing,” she quickly insists, instinctively rubbing the aching joints as she waves him off with a waggle of her fingers.

Sighing, Callum looks unconvinced. “Is there anything I can do? An ice spell?”

Rayla smiles at him, mind taken off the pain a little by his questions and concern. “It’s fine. This helps.” She raises her wrist to show him how she’s cradling it with her other hand. “Cold weirdly makes it burn more.”

Callum frowns again, eyes on where she’s clutching her arm. “Heat helps though?”

“Yeah-” Rayla responds instinctively before she registers he’s removing his gloves and reaching for her. “It’s- Don’t worry, really. You need your sleep-”

“My hands are a lot bigger than yours.” Callum smiles softly at her. “And I’ve also got two.” He nods expectantly at her wrist, shuffling his bedroll a little closer to hers.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Rayla blushes as she extends her hand. Which is probably dumb. They’ve held hands since she came back. Touched and hugged and that.

He’s just warming her wrist.

Still, she cannot quell the butterflies when he wraps his deliciously warm hands around her aching wrist.

He rubs gently, fingers moving softly over her arm, slipping under the cuff of her tunic and across her skin. He holds her hand close to his face, his warm breath ghosting across her palm for a moment before he presses his lips against the back of her hand.

“Better?” He smiles expectantly at her, still caressing her wrist as he holds her hand close to his chest.

She thinks she can feel the rapid thump of his heartbeat as he does so.

“Better.” It comes out barely above a whisper.

He provides a more than adequate distraction.

[finemealcreates]

Family Comes in All Shapes and Sizes

July 15: Meeting a new member of the family | wire

Billy shifts on his feet, uneasy and nervous. 

“Are you sure they’re gonna like me?” Billy asks Danny as he fixes his shirt for the nth time. 

Danny just rolls his eyes with a smile, elbowing Billy lightly. 

“Don’t worry so much! They’ve been bugging me to meet you since I told them about you,” Danny replies soothingly. 

Billy can’t help but let out an uneasy breath, shaking his hands out to try and rid himself of some of the nerves. It helps, but only slightly. He really does want to make a good first impression on Danny’s family. 

“Okay, okay let’s meet them before I get so nervous I change my mind,” Billy states, reaching out to grip Danny’s hand tightly in his own. 

Danny offers a soothing smile as he squeezes Billy’s hand gently, offering some comfort. Then, he reaches his other hand out, curling his fingers as nails extend from the tips. In one motion, he swings his hand in the air, a portal opening in front of them.

Billy gets tugged through before he can think too much about the fear and anxiety of entering a portal that leads to someplace he’s never been before. 

The first sensation he feels is cold, freezing cold. Followed by warmth as a heavy coat is placed over his shoulders. 

“I told you it was going to be cold,” Danny huffs good-naturedly, apparently not feeling the chill in his ghost form. 

“How was I supposed to know you meant freezing and not just chilly,” Billy pouts. 

Danny raises an eyebrow as he smirks slightly. 

“Maybe because I told you multiple times that’s what I meant?” 

Billy huffs and shoves Danny good-naturedly. 

“Great One!” a voice booms before a white furred being envelopes Danny into a hug. 

Billy’s eyes widens as he looks up at the being. They have two icicles for horns atop their head, blue and gold clothing and accessories adorning their body, and an ice left arm with the bones visible. Not to mention the fact that they are giant. So much taller than anyone Billy’s ever encountered … well, maybe not bigger than Darkseid, but it’s close. 

“Hi Frostbite,” Danny squeaks out, voice strained from the force of the hug. 

“It’s good to see you again!” Frostbite booms, finally releasing Danny. 

“Good to see you too,” Danny says honestly, stretching slightly. 

“And who is this?” Frostbite asks, purple eyes turning towards Billy. 

Billy gulps nervously under the gaze of the yeti, resisting the urge to transform into Captain Marvel. He’s fine. This is Danny’s family. He’s fine. 

“This is who I was telling you about!” Danny answers excitedly, flying over to hover next to Billy. “Frostbite, meet Billy. Billy, meet Frostbite.” 

Frostbite grins and extends a hand. Billy cautiously takes it, watching how the other’s hand envelopes his own completely.

“Wonderful to meet another member of Danny’s family!” Frostbite booms, shaking Billy’s hand gently yet excitedly. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Billy agrees, feeling a little light at being referred to as family. 

Frostbite smiles wide and releases Billy’s hand. 

“Shall we?” Frostbite asks before turning around and beginning to walk. 

“Where are we going?” Billy whispers to Danny. 

“To meet everyone else!” Danny answers, grinning. 

“Everyone else?” Billy asks nervously, eyes wide. 

Danny laughs and nods. 

“You didn’t think Frostbite was it, did you?”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Billy feels like his head is spinning from how many yeti’s he’s been introduced to. First there was Frostbite’s husband, Hailwind, then Frostbite’s siblings, Glacierwalk and Snowfall. And that was just Frostbite’s immediate family!

There are the other yeti’s in the village, most of whom Billy forgets the names of. All with different names and different occupations. There’s also an elderly couple that helps look after all the Frostlings. 

His head feels like it’s spinning as he shakes hands and smiles, says hello and gets handed food. His head gets pat a lot, every Yeti smiling at him widely. 

Consistently, they’re all so nice to him. Tell him they’re so happy to meet him. Grateful Danny has found family in such a kind young man. 

Billy feels … shy. Undeserving. Danny’s family is so kind and nice. Billy’s just … Billy. He hasn’t earned any of the great things he’s been gifted, he just does his best to do what he can with what he’s been given. 

“You okay?” Danny whispers to Billy when he gets a moment to breathe. 

“I’m okay,” Billy assures, slightly breathless. “Just a tad … overwhelmed? You have so many people who love you.” 

Danny smiles softly as he looks out at the crowd of Yeti’s mingling. 

“Yeah, I’m really lucky to have all of you,” Danny says softly. 

Billy doesn’t say anything. But he’s thinking about how lucky Billy is to have Danny, not the other way around. 

Danny pulls Billy into a side hug. 

“If you need to leave, we can,” Danny offers. 

Billy smiles kindly, warmth filling him. He’s glad to have someone like Danny who’s looking out for him. 

“It’s fine, go enjoy the party. I’ll be back out mingling in a minute,” Billy assures. 

Danny grins and gives a mock salute before flying back out to join everyone. 

“We’re really lucky to have someone like you watching out for Danny,” a voice says. 

Billy jumps slightly, turning to see it’s the leaner Yeti he met earlier. What was his name? Hailwind, wasn’t it? 

“It’s the other way around, really,” Billy responds softly. “Danny has so many people who care about him. I’m so grateful I’m considered one of those people.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Hailwind replies, smiling. “Danny might have a lot of family, but he’s not as open as he projects that he is. Everyone in his life means a lot to him.” 

Billy feels himself flush slightly. 

“Well, I’m glad that Danny considers me part of his family,” Billy admits shyly. “I think we’re just as lucky to have him in our lives as he thinks he is to have us.” 

Hailwind chuckles and nods in response, a smile growing on his face. 

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

Together, they watch the party in front of them, joy in the air.

[dindjarindiaries]

DIN DJARIN ONE-SHOTS

Each story below focuses on Din Djarin, with pairings for each story indicated along with summaries.

Stories marked with an asterisk (*) contain sexual, though not explicit/graphic, content.

My ratings are as follows: G (all ages), T (13+), M (18+)

Last updated: July 27, 2024

main masterlist • series • drabbles • prompts

the “heat” of the moment • reader The heat goes out on the Razor Crest and you’re the only one with an electric blanket to keep yourself warm.

my cyar’ika • fem!reader You and Din find yourselves in a marketplace lush with life, and you lose yourself in the fun while Din tries to keep you safe throughout it.

just fine • reader Din comforts you after you suffer through a tumultuous nightmare.

dead to me • fem!oc On the verge of death, Twila takes off Din’s helmet, later having to face his wrath and leave his ship—even though she’s pregnant with their unborn child.

everything i wanted • reader You’re trapped inside a Din x Omera love triangle, struggling to get to your lover who’s entranced with your new host.

riduurok • reader This is the story of how you fall in love with the Mandalorian bounty hunter, Din Djarin.

home • reader After the child is reunited with his people, Din takes you to a place that’s unfamiliar to you but all too familiar to him: his home.

when stars align• reader You spend an affectionate morning awakening beside your Mandalorian, who you have just recently married.

more than words* • reader On the evening of your marriage, you and Din show your deep love for each other in a manner that goes beyond words.

the challenge • reader After winning a drinking challenge, Din returns to the Crest much later than expected in a state of mind much different than usual, leaving you to deal with him and whatever words spill from his mouth.

don’t blame me• reader In the weeks following your marriage, you and Din are desperate to make up for all the physical affection you’ve missed out on—leading you to do whatever you can wherever you can.

said and done • reader With Din being injured from a past fight, you’re the one in charge of the hunts for now—and Din realizes he likes having you in control.

behave* • reader After a grueling hunt, you and Din celebrate your success at a local cantina, both ending up with a little too much that leads you to do things that are a little too risky.

a warrior’s purpose • daughter oc Din returns to the planet where he’d left his riduur many years ago to find her again—but instead, he finds someone else.

nothing so perfect • fem!reader You and Din think that you’re adding on to your family, only to learn there’s been a mistake—and now you’re both left to cope with the loss you never expected.

next to you • reader It’s been long enough since Din’s promised return for you to assume that he didn’t make it, and now you yearn for the life that could’ve been.

forever and always • reader When you and Din finally find the child’s home, it’s time to say goodbye—but then Din realizes he can’t.

reverence • fem!reader Following the birth of your daughter, Din spends a night marveling at the little life and the way you provide for her.

transmissions • reader When Din’s away on a long job, he gives you a holotransceiver and sends you transmissions to keep you both at ease.

purpose • fem!reader As the daughter of an Imperial senator, the Mandalorian’s hired as your bodyguard—but with the twisted ideals of your father putting you at risk, he becomes so much more than that.

irrevocable • reader After a hunt goes wrong and Din gets captured, you go after him and save him, but you find that they’ve removed his helmet and have done him personal damage that will last for much longer.

mine* • fem!reader With tensions rising not only in the galaxy but also in your relationship, Din proves to you in a new way that he’ll take care of you.

never alone • fem!reader In the aftermath of a bad nightmare, Din receives comfort from an unexpected source: his daughter.

tresses • reader When Din’s hair becomes the object of your and the baby’s affections, he decides it’s time for a trim—although he’s hesitant for a reason you must discover.

enervation • reader Din returns home from his new job as exhausted as ever, begging you to join him in sleep—and trying to make it happen at all costs.

take care • reader After Din sustains an injury on a job, you have to help him take care of himself—something he grows more and more fond of.

affliction • fem!reader When you and Din get recognized at an Imperial gala, you’re both taken into custody, where they begin to use Din to get you to talk—and lead you to do something completely unexpected.

take it off* • reader Your new ally extends his hospitality a little too far—and now Din’s determined to remind you of what he alone can provide you with.

cozy in the cockpit • reader After the Crest suffers through an intense chase and crash, you and Din must figure out how to survive on a freezing planet—your low odds causing your mutual feelings to come to the surface.

beneath the surface • reader You and Din get double-crossed when trying to find other Mandalorians, putting all three of you in deep waters.

touch it softly • reader When you invite Din to play with your hair, you both get a little more than lost in the moment.

alleviation • reader You continue helping Din recover from the traumatizing removal of his helmet, trying to make him understand that it’s okay to not be okay. (part two of Irrevocable)

the right thing • reader Din returns to you on Nevarro after the mission on Moff Gideon’s cruiser—without the child.

ni ceta par gar (i kneel for you)* • reader When Mando needs emotional release, you seek to fulfill your pining by offering something neither one of you can resist—something that could change everything.

in my head • reader The thought of Din plagues your mind—and it won’t be long until it’s forced onto your lips.

the marshal • fem!oc Din covers his face. So does she. Shrouded in mystery and unable to admit their shared intimidation, the two must work together to save Mos Pelgo—for both their sakes.

hold me in hyperspace • reader After a long hunt, you think Mando just wants some rest—but really, he just wants you.

ner yaim (my home) • reader After a day of work, you get to come home to Din, who’s fitting into his new role well.

mureyca (kiss) • reader The story of the different ways in which you share a kiss with the Mandalorian.

aftermath • omera After his quest has been fulfilled, Din returns to Sorgan, needing the comfort and support of someone he could never forget.

stay • omera Din wrestles with his feelings for Omera and tries to tell her how she feels—but has to let her in first.

torrent • reader When one of Din’s worst fears is revealed, you’re left to do whatever you can to put him at ease.

enterprise • cassian andor, k2so When Mando’s quarry offers him a better deal, he finds himself getting involved in more than he originally bargained for.

bloom • reader With your relationship now in full blossom, a flustered Din takes you on your first date, where he does everything he can to tell you how you make him feel.

malevolence • grogu Din experiences the ghastly side effects of wielding the famed Darksaber.

before i go • reader Imperial occupation of your covert as well as your mind lead to a devastating confrontation between you and your past Mandalorian lover.

favorite crime • reader When your ex-partner-in-crime and past lover enters your life again, you find yourself looking back on fond memories with a tremendous desire to chase them again.

solace • reader Din reassures you when your perfectionist tendencies catch up to you.

foster • obi-wan kenobi Obi-Wan comes across an orphan named Din that he can’t help taking under his wing.

intemperate • reader Mando’s indulgence in liquid courage leads him to say things you never thought you’d hear—and will never forget.

scars • reader When Din shows unprecedented hatred for his battle-worn body, it’s up to you to reassure him of everything you love about it.

seeking serenity • reader Mando, overcome with anxiety in the aftermath of a risky event, needs you to bring him back to reality—and asks for much more along the way.

liberation • reader You lead a mission to free Din from an Imperial hideout, only to discover that he’s in need of you much more than you originally thought.

contrition • reader Din comforts you after you do something drastic to save his life.

bring me home • reader You reunite with your Mandalorian lover after a long separation and realize much has changed since you last him.

safety net • deaf!reader When you and Din are reunited after a hunt that goes longer than expected, your mutual feelings for each other finally bubble to the surface—regardless of the fears you’ve both buried deep within.

selfish • reader Din, who’s helplessly in love with you, is forced to watch you and your partner until he’s forced to come to terms with his feelings.

united we fall • reader Din’s unable to control the Darksaber and accidentally hurts you with it, leaving behind a deep scar on your body and his mind.

of bounties and bartenders • fem!reader The mysterious Din “Brown Eyes” Djarin returns to visit you after a job, but trouble is the last thing he’s left behind.

as it was • din djarin’s parents The living waters beneath Mandalore bring Din back to a place—and a people—he never thought he’d see again.

people watching • grogu Observation was a skill Din Djarin had mastered for his own safety, but now it sets the scene for his very own destruction.

astronomy • reader Crossing paths with a seriously injured Din forces the two of you to come to terms with your relationship.

stardust • reader You finally reunite with your Mandalorian lover, just to learn a devastating truth.

fine line • reader Din tries his best to comfort you in the aftermath of your torturous capture.

scarlet promise • reader Vengeance consumes you when Din’s put at risk, causing him to have to pull you back to reality.

what sits in the silence • reader Your bounty-hunting rival turns to you in his time of need and brings along more baggage than you planned on handling.

when a house becomes a home • reader A new home brings new responsibilities, and there’s only one person who can teach Din how to cook a proper meal: you.

takes one to know one • reader Bounty hunters aren’t supposed to fall in love and you were okay with that. So was the Mandalorian.

love me louder • reader Your secret romance with the Mandalorian is put at risk when you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

shattered • reader When an anxious day gets the best of you, Din seeks to comfort you.

the broken who blossom • reader At long last, Din’s returned home to the covert, but he’s brought a lot more home with him than anticipated.

in sickness & in health • reader Din does his best to comfort you when you become anxious about your health.

doomsday • reader You and Din are interrogated by Moff Gideon, who has quickly realized you’re the best weapon he has to use against the Mandalorian.

i still see you • reader In the aftermath of the Morak mission, Din’s faced with a crisis you only hope you can help to resolve somehow.

fight for me • reader When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.

right where you left me • reader Din reunites with you many years after your whirlwind romance for a mission you begrudgingly accept to help him with.

main masterlist • series • drabbles • prompts

[vinylfoxbooks]

July 5 - Burnt | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 434 Part 2 of my Medium James AU Previous part

James looks freaked out. Now that Regulus knows about their ability to see ghosts, he’ll sometimes ask them what they’re seeing, asking about the spirits that wander around Hogwarts without people being able to see them. He’s come to know what it looks like when James is seeing spirits that they either don’t know or they’re uncomfortable with. 

But this face? The one that they’re making. They look terrified, but since James doesn’t like talking about the whole spirit thing, he can’t bring it up to them when they’re around people so he holds back for a while, though he does drop off a letter to them, telling them to meet him in the Astronomy Tower. 

They’re about five minutes late to getting to the Tower that night, but Regulus has come to know that James tends to be late. He hates it, but that’s how they are so he can’t do anything about it. 

“Hi Reggie.” James hums, sitting down next to him, “Is everything alright?”

“That’s more what I wanted to ask you,” Regulus says, “You looked freaked out at dinner earlier. I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” 

They’re quiet for a moment before looking out at the stars around them, “There’s someone… new. They’ve been wandering around the Hufflepuff table at meal times the past couple of days. I’ve been trying to ignore them.” 

“Is it because they freak you out?”

James shakes their head, “I always try to ignore spirits because it’s not my business and they… yeah, they freak me out. But I finally saw this spirit that’s been wandering around the table. I don’t know who they’re following but…” They shake their head again, more trying to shake the thought from their mind. 

Regulus moves closer, putting a hand on their arm, “That’s not all is it?”

“I can take a lot,” James breathes, “I’ve seen quite a bit and can handle it but… this person. Almost their entire face is burnt, like I can only make out a portion of their face, their hair is all matted, and their clothing is charred it’s… it just-” James closes their eyes, “I don’t know. They just…”

“I’m sorry, James.” Regulus hums, “Do you want to keep talking about them or do you want a distraction?”

“A distraction would be nice.” James sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… I don’t know why they’re sticking in my mind so much but I can’t stop thinking about their face.”

“Alright, we’ll find something to take your mind off it, yeah.” 

James wraps their arm around his lower back, swallowing, “Yeah.”

Next Part

[ilguna]

☼ my tears ricochet pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; it’s been six months since you were banished from district four. since then, you’ve been trying to lay low and keep your nose clean. one night, you and gale go to the local bar to wind down after a long week, and he helps you come to a realization that changes everything.

warnings; swearing, prostitution mention, alcohol, arson, death mention, mental health talk, torture.

wc; 6.5k

part one.

notes; hints of Gale slander but fish are friends not food!!

--

The July summer breeze feels nice against your hot skin, causing you to close your eyes to enjoy it properly. It’s even better this way. You reach back to lift the hair off your neck, which is slightly damp from sweat after working all day in the sun. A chill goes down your spine when the wind hits the spot just right.

There’s a lot of similarities between District Two and Four that you've come to notice over time, but the heat is not one of them. It’s very dry here, there’s a lot of desert and very little rain to sustain any real plant life. Any that do exist have already evolved to live off of practically no water. For miles, all you can see is dirt and half-dead bushes, 

While back home, you’re located right on the coast, allowing for more rainy days than plain sunshine. The trees, grass and flowers are always fed and healthy. Even if it doesn’t rain, there are clouds to block the heat from beating on you, making every afternoon a pleasant one. 

This weather difference alone isn’t enough to make you feel homesick, but there are so many other factors at play that contribute to it. When you first moved to District Two, you had a feeling that you’d never be able to get used to living here. It’s been six months since then, and you’re still a stranger when you walk the streets.

The only familiar thing—or rather, person—here is Gale.

Except, he isn’t from home. He’s not one of your childhood friends, or a neighbor from your previous neighborhood. You can’t talk to him about what could be going on since you got banished. He’s from District Twelve. The only thing you have in common is the fact that you’re both rebels.

You can’t even use your banishment as a way to bond with him, because he deserved what he got, and you were wrongly accused. While Finnick had framed you for allegedly giving the Peacekeepers your next steps—Gale had actually indirectly got Primrose Everdeen killed through one of the ideas that he developed with Beetee.

He might not have been the one to send out the bombs, because former President Alma Coin had to approve that order, but he was the one to suggest using it. Gale was desperate to win the rebellion at any cost, until he paid the biggest price.

There’s a good chance that Gale will never be able to go back to District Twelve after what he did. Especially since Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch have decided to stay and continue living there. Although, with how well things are going in Two with the volunteer work, it probably hasn’t crossed his mind. 

It’s not exactly easy work. Most of the time, you don’t have enough time to be thinking about anything other than what your hands are doing. It’s mind-numbing in a good way, and usually you feel pretty accomplished by the end of the task. 

The work deals with a lot of construction and beautification. Usually, you don’t get paid for it. Sometimes they’ll give out free lunch if it’s going to be a particularly long day of tearing down bricks and planting greenery. There’s been a few times where you’ve been so caught up in the work, that you went all night.

It’s gotten you a lot of recognition from the people that are native to Two, which is not what you’re striving for, but it’s nice to not have to worry about the hatred as much. When you first arrived at the train station six months ago, it was pretty clear that a lot of people held prejudice against you. Over time, they’ve gotten curious and have bothered you to ask what happened.

It takes a lot of explanation and convincing, but eventually they believe you. Or, at the very least, they take a neutral standpoint and choose not to pick a side entirely. You know that it’s a lot of he-said, she-said. It’s hard to know who’s telling the truth in a serious situation like that.

On one hand, it’d be nice to believe Finnick, because he’s the one that first came forward with the story. Plus, he’s been Panem’s darling for so long that it would be heinous for him to do something so selfish and seemingly out-of-character.

On the other, you have never done something so snake-ish ever. Everyone should know that if a situation like that happens, you would take the hit of being taken for the greater good. It’s your one life versus several. As terrifying as it would’ve been, you could’ve handled whatever the Capitol had to offer for you at that moment. 

Of course, when you tell people the real side of the story, you take a massive hit for not telling the group when you had the chance before the sewers. The issue is that Finnick had been keeping a close eye on you, under the guise that he wanted to protect you, but also to ensure that your mouth stayed shut. 

If you could go back and change the situation, you would. 

“(L/n), (Y/n).” A woman calls.

You open your eyes, briefly being blinded by the sun while you turn to face Azalea. She’s the head director here in District Two for the volunteer work, she keeps everything very organized. It’s less stressful when she’s the one taking care of things for the day.

“Yes?” You ask, finding her at the front of the crowd.

She’s a short, blonde woman with tan skin. She holds up the clipboard, showing you the paper for a second. All you can gather is the fact that it’s a signup sheet, so you begin to move forward, carefully brushing past some of the workers in the process.

“What time did you get here today?” Azalea asks, once you’re in front of her.

“Um—“ You glance over your shoulder to search for Gale, because he’s the one with the watch. He keeps track of the time and when you go on break.

“Seven-twenty.” Gale says from beside you, making you jump slightly. “We both got here at that time.”

Azalea hums, writing that down in the time slot next to your names. You look over Gale, who you haven’t seen in a good fifteen minutes. There’s a smudge of dirt beneath his eye, so you lick your thumb, reaching to rub it away. He dodges your finger, face twisting in disgust.

“You look dirty.” You tell him, wiping the dirt off of his skin. “Stop being a baby, I’ve seen you eat a potato that touched the bar floor before.”

“It was expensive.” 

“Are either of you available tomorrow for a paid job?” Azalea interrupts. “I’ve got a house call from Enobaria Golding that needs to be done, and no one is signing up for it.”

“What’s it for?” You ask.

“She’s turning Victor’s Village into a memorial, I believe she just needs help moving furniture around in some of the houses. As well as cleaning up the neighborhood’s fountain, loose leaves, and pavement.”

You look at Gale with raised eyebrows, his lips are pressed together. “What time?”

“Whenever you can, she thinks it’s going to be a three day job at the very least. She’s paying over a hundred per hour, it used to be lower, but got raised because it’s urgent.” Azalea looks between you two.

“I’m in.” You tell her, “We could have it done in three days.”

Gale sighs, “Yeah, sign me up too.”

She begins to write your names down on a separate paper. “Will it be a big deal if I close it, then? I don’t think I’ll be able to find others. No one’s keen on Enobaria.”

“That’s fine.” You agree, “I know her, we’ll get along. Is it a contract?”

“I can make it one.” Azalea nods. “Swing by later tonight, I’ll have it ready.”

“Sounds good, Azalea. Thank you.” You nod.

“Are we good to go?” Gale asks, beginning to take a step back.

“Yup. Be good, you two.” She points the end of her pen in the middle of you guys, and then turns her attention back to the group that’s waiting to sign out.

Gale takes charge on leading you out of the center square. With how tall he is and the aggressive look on his face, he clears a path faster than you can. Besides, no one wants to be more than three feet near him. And yes, that has to do with his own reputation. 

“What’s your plan for tonight?” Gale asks over his shoulder.

“Well, since we’re probably going to get a late start tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind going to the bar tonight.” You raise your eyebrows.

He hums, “Right now?”

“Sure, why not?”

With that, Gale changes direction, heading for the good bar on the other side of District Two. When you first came here, you spent a lot of time bar hopping. In those weeks, you figured out that the fancy places were not, in fact, better. They were just more expensive. 

It wasn’t until you found the dirty place on the corner of Upper Heights, did you realize that they charge less for better quality. The only perk of going to those higher-end places is the fact that you can brag that you went there. You don’t talk to many people outside of Gale, and he was the one you took with you.

Well, that’s not entirely right. You didn’t take him with you—he tagged along, despite knowing that he was unwelcome. You didn’t like him very much to begin with back in District Thirteen because you thought what he did to Peeta’s family was pretty shitty, so you tried to steer clear of him as much as possible. The way he acted during the Capitol storming just solidified your ideas.

When Gale heard that you were going to be staying in District Two, he attached to you. You tried several different ways to get him to leave you alone, ranging from practically verbally abusing him to flat out ignoring. He didn’t care, he was ready for whatever you had to throw at him.

It eventually hit the point where you figured that you might as well deal with him. At the time, it would’ve been easier to put up with Gale than to try and convince someone that you were worthy of a conversation. He was an ass to put up with, and you caught yourself wondering how Katniss hung around him for so long.

In the end, it worked out. You and Gale can talk to each other without arguing. You two have a lot more in common than you originally thought, too. Although, some of his ideas are questionable, and you usually have to stop him from talking to keep that peaceful state.

“I’m surprised you want to drink so early.” Gale remarks.

“It’s almost eight o’clock.” You reason, motioning to the sky. “It’s not my fault it’s still bright out.”

The sun is slowly setting on the horizon, getting ready to say goodbye for the night. Which is good, because you’re tired of the heat. Unfortunately, it’ll still be warm out, even with the flaming ball in the sky gone. At least the bar has air conditioning. 

Gale reaches for the handle, pulling the door open. He holds it for you as you enter first, allowing you to choose where to sit tonight. You head for the table in the corner, the one that lets you have a perfect view of the entire room, and a quick escape for the door. 

Gale begrudgingly takes his jacket off and sets it on the chair that has its back to the room. “Your usual?”

“Yes, and water, please.” You tell him, reaching for your wallet. “I’ll pay for the first round. We can alternate tonight.”

Gale holds his hand out, watching as you drop the cash in his hand. He counts it as he walks away, heading for the bar top. You watch as he and the bartender go back and forth as the drinks are made. A minute later, Gale comes over, placing the glasses on the table. 

You start with the water, parched. They provide water, but they keep the bottles to recycle them, even if you aren’t finished with what’s inside. Once half the cup is empty, you start on your mixed drink, watching as Gale takes a sip of straight brown liquor.

“Do you remember what Azalea was saying about next week?” You ask, watching as Gale’s face twists.

“You mean the beach clean up?” Gale asks.

“Yeah, she said District Four, right?”

“I think. And whatever else is beside it. They’ve got their own coordinators over there, so they aren’t taking volunteers. Trust me, I tried.”

“They would’ve denied me, anyway.” You roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Azalea hesitated. She said that we’d be useful, but the deadline passed a couple days ago.”

“Any victors going?” You ask.

He scoffs, “No, the last I heard, everyone’s hands off.”

You hum, resting your head on your hand. You get about the same information that Gale does when it comes to the victors, usually in snippets. 

Enobaria’s here, obviously, in District Two. You didn’t know that she was doing a memorial for the Two victors until today, which is nice of her. You can’t imagine how hard it is to be the only surviving victor of a district. Especially since Lyme was alive for the rebellion, but got killed during the storming of the Capitol.

Speaking of which, Beetee’s working in the heart of it under Commander Paylor. You’re not sure what he’s doing exactly, likely something with electronics or the defense system, if you had to guess. All you know is that he was able to resume basically what he had been before, this time for a better cause.

As for Katniss, there’s a lot of mixed news on her. Some say that she’s doing over-the-phone therapy appointments with Doctor Aurelius, mandated by Paylor to assess Katniss’s state of mind periodically after the assassination of former President Snow. Others tell you that she’s been skipping calls and hasn’t been out of her house in who-knows how long. 

After everything that happened, you just hope that she's doing okay. 

Peeta is doing his own sessions, also with Doctor Aurelius. Except, he’s not in Twelve, he’s still stationed in the Capitol for the time being. There’s a lot of progress regarding the hijacking, but it’s hard to know for sure if permanent damage hasn’t been done. And they can’t really test that out, either.

Haymitch… could honestly be anywhere. You heard he was forced to attend rehab in District Thirteen a second time, getting him completely sober. He’s fallen off the map since then, so your best guess is that he’s still there. You know post-war that he began to struggle with his sobriety after losing so many longtime friends.

This brings you to the few people that you could care less about. Starting with Johanna, she’s in District Seven, enjoying her life. She isn’t doing anything of importance, just wasting away in her own victor house, letting people wait on her. They tried to get Doctor Aurelius to rope her in, but she’s resilient. She doesn’t care about bettering herself, even though it’s pretty needed after the torture.

Annie Cresta is living in District Four, right alongside your ex-boyfriend and traitor, Finnick Odair. You don’t get much information on them, and it has to do with the fact that you get pissed off at the sound of their success. From your understanding, they live guilt-free and happy in their mansions, sleeping in their own beds.

When you ask for updates regarding Four, it’s a hit or miss if you get anything of importance. For example, they could tell you that fishing’s down, and it has been for the past couple weeks. Or, they’ll lay it on heavy, by telling you that your childhood home and your victor home are nothing but foundation.

You remember how dark the world became when you heard the news. Finnick told you on that runway in City Circle that they’d burnt your victor house down, something that you’d be able to live with. It didn’t have the prized possessions of your parents and siblings, or the pictures that captured you growing up. The only physical memory of the family you once had.

Apparently, not long after Finnick returned to Four, they’d set your home ablaze, too.

A part of you wonders whether or not that was encouraged by him. God forbid if you ever find out that’s the case. You might not be very threatening now, but nothing will stand in the way between your fists and his face if he told them to take away your last safe haven in Panem.

Anyway, when you were told the news about your childhood home, it almost became your breaking point. You’d been in Two for about three weeks at that point, and you were in no sound state to hear something so heavy. Especially on top of everything else that had been happening in the last year.

“Tomorrow’s July fourth.” Gale says, kinda changing the topic.

“Reaping Day.” You agree, nodding, taking another sip of your drink. “This will be the first year where a Hunger Games hasn’t taken place in Seventy-Six years.”

Gale stares off at the bar for a couple of quiet seconds. “What was it like being a victor?”

“Was?” You repeat. “You act like that’s a title that’s been taken away. I am a victor.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Still.” You mutter. “I don’t know, what was it like being a worker in the mines?”

Gale’s face scrunches up. “You’re really comparing my district work to victor life?”

“I’m not saying district work isn’t hard or dangerous, especially with the mining stories that you were telling me. However, only one of us has been reaped twice and fought in both Hunger Games.” You remind him. “I have killed more than six people on purpose with three indirect kills following that.”

“You act like that’s something to brag about.” He squints at you.

“I’m not saying it is. All I’m saying is that victor life isn’t easy, either. And if you need an example, take Annie Cresta.”

“Annie Cresta is an anomaly.”

“But Katniss isn’t.” You raise your eyebrows. “I bet she had PTSD following her Games, and couldn’t hold a bow without remembering what she used it for inside of the arena.” 

Gale makes a face, tilting his head. “You’re not wrong.”

You raise your hand in his direction, because you knew you weren’t wrong. “Anyway, to answer your question—before the rebellion, there were hard parts and there were easy parts. Especially when it came to mentoring.”

His eyes land back on you. “How was that?”

“A nightmare.” You tell him. “There’s a reason why a lot of the victors ended up like Haymitch. Or addicted or morphling.” You swish the ice around in your glass.

“I’ll grab the next round.” Gale reaches for your cup, you move your hand.

“Thanks.”

He slides off his chair, heading away. With the questions he’s asking, you’re going to be drinking the entire night. He’s never been interested in victor life before, but you suppose there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to ask questions with Katniss. Besides, she’s not nearly as experienced as you are in that area.

He could ask you anything about the Capitol, and you’d have an answer for him. There was one point in your career where you had to be studying their mannerisms because Snow was getting ready to put you on the chopping block. Your victory almost completely outshone Finnick’s, you were going to be his ticket out of the prostitution industry, but your popularity died quickly.

For what reason, you’re not sure. All you know is that Snow sent you an ‘I regret to inform you…’ letter, telling you that you’ve been shelved. As if that was supposed to be upsetting, instead of relieving. You even remember crying in your room, praising whatever intervened and saved you.

When Gale comes back, he’s got more questions, “Wasn’t there good aspects about it, too?”

Your face twists as you take the first sip of your drink. “I guess. Besides the money and the house, we were free to do basically what we wanted in the Capitol, in moderation.”

“You weren’t trapped inside of the Tribute Center?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“No,” You scoff, “We were anything but trapped. We were encouraged to enjoy what the Capitol had to offer, we were walking advertisements of the Hunger Games. I didn’t take advantage of it though, I’d only been on them a couple times before the Quarter Quell.”

“Why?” 

“They couldn’t just set us free, obviously. They had to keep an eye on us somehow, and that was done through the street cameras. They’re everywhere.” You shake your head. “I mean, you can’t go a single block without them.”

Gale pauses, putting his glass back down on the table. “Were they on the street when we were passing through?”

“Yeah, of course. The cameras are less frequent on the outskirts because there’s not a lot of crime in the Capitol, but they exist. It gets more difficult around the President’s Mansion because that’s a huge security risk.”

Gale stares at you, unmoving.

You look over his face, and then down to his drink. “What?”

“Are you hearing yourself?” He asks.

“Yeah?”

Gale smiles a little bit. “Never mind. What was your favorite thing to do in the Capitol?”

“It had to be the bars, or the clubs. I couldn’t go to very many of them, though. Which meant that I spent a lot of time in cafe’s.”

“Why couldn’t you go to clubs?”

“Finnick, mostly. He was a darling.” You rub the rim of your glass. When you look up at Gale, you raise your eyebrows. “You know, the whole prostitution thing. They always knew where he was because of the cameras. I’m lucky I never got pulled in. I came close several times.”

Gale presses his lips together. “They’d watch the street through the camera?”

“Yup, and they’d send high officials to our location to steal Finnick for the night, because he couldn’t say no. They could even play the footage back to see where we were coming from.”

“How far back?”

Your eyes wander away from his face. “I’m not entirely sure.” You lean back in the chair. “I mean, the Capitol used to pull footage from a year before of the victors to prove there were fashion trends.”

“So you’re telling me that they have footage of the streets from a year ago? Or at least, six months ago?” Gale presses.

“They should. I don’t know what good it would do now.” You tell him, locking eyes with him.

Gale doesn’t say anything, staring at you intensely. You open your mouth to ask what’s wrong with him, but end up sealing your lips, eyes narrowing in his direction. He does this to you sometimes when you’re missing a piece of a puzzle, and he’ll refuse to tell you what it is because he wants you to work it out.

It has to do with the cameras in the Capitol, because that’s what he’d been asking about. It’s such an insignificant detail, you’re not sure why he’s hung up on it. He had to have known there were cameras, that’s how they kept track of where you were in the sewers. If they hadn’t already known where you’d be going, of course.

The Peacekeepers found you on the street, thanks to those cameras. They probably even planned it down to the second to make sure that you were out of sight, in case any of the others came out of the apartment complex to look for you. Just like how they’d done to you and Finnick before…

You jerk upright, eyes widening as you watch Gale break into a smile. “Oh my god, there might be footage of Finnick and I on the street. And it might even have audio.”

“I was wondering when you’d get it.” He laughs.

You look around the bar, searching for the clock to find the time. It’s almost nine o’clock, the Justice Building closes at nine-thirty. Since it’s Friday, it’ll be closed through the weekend, unless there’s an emergency. And they won’t count your situation as one.

“I need to go.” You tell Gale, sliding off your chair, pulling your jacket over your arm. “I have to speak to Mayor Sybil.”

“Right now?” Gale asks, face twisting.

“Yes, right now.” You tell him. “I’ll meet you back at the house.” 

You head for the door in a rush, just barely getting the gap open wide enough for you to slip through before you’re running down the street. The Justice Building is on the other side of the town, where Azalea organizes the volunteers. You know it's a fairly long walk but you’ve never had to run there before.

You clutch the jacket to your chest, one arm pumping viciously at your side. You try your best to maneuver through the main and side streets of Upper Heights. Unfortunately, it’s not late enough for the town to be empty, especially not since it’s leading into the weekend. You receive several stares, people fully stopping to watch you run by, and heads turning at the sound of your feet crunching against gravel and cobblestone.

You try to keep your breathing as even as you can, remembering the rigorous training for the Quarter Quell that Mags put you through. She knew better than anyone what to expect. If it weren’t for her, you would’ve been unprepared.

The run feels like forever, but can’t be anymore than fifteen minutes—maybe twenty at the most. The second you see the Justice Building, a smaller boost of energy enters your system, and it’s the last push you need to make it to the doors in time. Right before the receptionist tries to lock it.

Her key is in the door when you push it open, gasping for air, wiping the sweat from your eyes. The cool air from the vent hits you in the face, easing the burning pain in your face. 

“Excuse me.” The receptionist says, her face is twisted. “We’re closed for the night.”

You shake your head, breathing through your mouth as you look up at the clock on the wall, which is right above a bench. Good, you need to sit down, or you’re going to lay on the tile floor. You bet that it’s cold.

“You don’t close…” You manage to get out, trailing off for a few breaths. “For another ten minutes.”

She presses her lips together. “We’ve had a slow day, so we’re closing early today.”

“This is urgent.” You breathe. “I need to see Mayor Sybil.”

“You can come back and visit her on Monday.”

“Respectfully, that’s not happening.” You tell the receptionist. “We can waste time arguing, or you can just bring me to her.” 

She glares at you, but starts walking down the hallway, presumably to the mayor. You get off the bench, following her. It’s a fairly quiet walk, if you tune out the stomping of her heels against the floor. And the occasional annoyed sigh.

She stops in front of the mayor’s door, knocking on the wood next to the crystal glass as a courtesy, before swinging the door open without permission to enter.

Mayor Sybil must be used to this, or doesn’t care. She looks up from her rectangular glasses with raised eyebrows. She looks between you two for just a moment, and then a little smile comes to her face as she gets to her feet.

“Miss (L/n), to what do I owe this pleasure, tonight?” She asks.

“I’ve been wrongly accused.” You tell her, stepping inside of the room. You drop your jacket onto the chair in front of her desk. “And there’s proof.”

Sybil winces, beginning to tilt her head, which means she’s going to start doubting you, and you don’t necessarily blame her. For the longest time, you’d come to the Justice Building and beg for them to reconsider. Sybil knows your routine by now.

“Listen, (Y/n), you know—” She starts.

“No.” You cut her off, glancing at the receptionist. “I need to speak to Sybil in private.” You tell her, just before closing the door in her face. “Sybil, the Capitol has cameras on the street.”

When you look at her, you can see that she’s placed her glasses on the top of her head, rubbing her nose. “Go on.”

“The cameras should’ve caught the conversation between Finnick and the Peacekeepers, and there’s going to be audio to go along with it.” You pull out the chair, stepping around the arm to sit down. “Will you please get Paylor on the phone?”

“Promise me this isn’t a waste of time.” She says, sighing.

“I promise I’m not wasting your time.” You tell her.

—

“If I were you, I’d put the guns down.” Finnick advised in a calm, collected voice. “It wouldn’t be a very good idea to kill us on the street, unless you want to alert the people we’re with, of course. It could give them a good running head start.”

There was a tense silence that passed between you and Finnick and the Peacekeepers that had just evacuated the truck, large guns in their hands. Although, it’s not entirely obvious through the playback, because your faces are hidden from the camera because of the angle it’s sitting at. You have a perfect view of the Peacekeepers, though. 

“Who says we have orders to kill you?” The Peacekeeper shoots back. “We have orders from President Snow to take you by any means necessary.”

“That’s not a good idea, either.” Finnick’s voice is smug. You remember the smirk that was on his face. “If you try to take us by force, we’ll make sure our companions are aware you’re out here. Same cards dealt.”

You watch your past self shift nervously on her feet, shaking her head. Finnick doesn’t move from where he stands, arms still raised in the air. The Peacekeepers begin to create a half-circle around you two, because it was more important to bring some back to the mansion, instead of being empty handed.

“We can make a deal.” Finnick offered cooly, “If you’re willing to make one.”

“Like what?” The Peacekeeper humored him.

“I can tell you where you can catch all of us together.” He told them plainly. “We figured out there are too many Pods here on the street, because we have a device. We plan on going down into the sewers to evade the Pods. The best time to come and get us would be then, because it’s going to be a maze down there. And you’ll have the advantage.”

There’s a few gasps that fill the room you’re sitting in. Your face begins to twist, eyes focusing on the screen. Your past self lowers her arms, in the middle of realizing that Finnick is selling your group of friends out to save himself. And less importantly, you.

If only the people around you could see the horror that crossed your face in that moment. As you stood there hopelessly. It was too late to stop Finnick or save the situation. What could you do? Kill the Peacekeepers all by yourself? Claim Finnick was lying? 

For six months, you’ve been blamed for being a bystander if what you were claiming about Finnick was true, but it was never that simple. They would stand there dumbfounded, too.

“As long as you don’t interfere before we get to the apartment and down in the sewers, we won’t tell the squad about this encounter.” Finnick told them, keeping control of the situation. He lowered his arms, but you didn’t dare to move, watching as he held out his hand to shake the Peacekeeper’s, wanting to seal the deal.

In complete silence, they shake hands. “Let’s pack up and roll back to Headquarters.” The main Peacekeeper told the others, not bothering to acknowledge the conversation he’d just had with Finnick.

The two of you stood there and watched as they all got back inside of the armored truck, before driving down the block. They took the soonest left, and disappeared out of sight completely. It wasn’t until you were sure that they were gone, did you lower your arms.

Finnick began to lead the way back to the apartment, a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you down the sidewalk. After five minutes of total silence, he cleared his throat. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The camera angle changes because you’re leaving the view of the first one, and the audio is getting quieter. There’s a gap of silence as the microphone struggles to pick up the conversation, meaning it misses your entire response. Which consisted of something snarky and along the lines of, “What about them?”

The audio comes back in time to catch Finnick. “Don’t say anything to them about what happened. It’ll screw everything up, and put us back into danger.”

You tear your eyes from the television, swiveling around in your chair to find Finnick sitting across the room. All the color has been drained from his skin, face dropped entirely as his truth spills out. And this is only the beginning.

Finnick’s eyes flicker over to yours, you see that they’re watery. A smile comes to your face when you shake your head at him. This won’t work on you. You have no sympathy for the man that lied and got you shunned from the community of your home district. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You snapped at Finnick, disgusted. “They’re our friends, we’re supposed to be a team! We wouldn’t have made it this far without them!”

“This is what has to be done if you want to make it home.” Finnick told you. “We don’t have a choice. Now that they know where we’re going next, there’s no point in changing plans. The sewers are our best bet.”

“That’s not true anymore.” You seethed. “We’re over, Finnick. I can’t be with you.”

You raised your hand, waving him off when he tried to grab you. He let you take the first couple of steps away, and then loosely followed you from a distance to make sure he wouldn’t set you off. The camera follows you back to the apartment complex, where you go inside, and the feed ends.

You look around the room from person to person, finding most with solemn faces as they realize they trusted the wrong victor. President Paylor inhales, as if she’s going to speak, and then she lets it go with a shake of her head.

Even Plutarch has a grimace on his face, because this is not how they want to picture their darling Finnick Odair. After the sacrifice he made by telling Panem about his trauma, he should not be painted in this light. 

“It’s not tampered with.” Beetee breaks the silence, adjusting his glasses. “If any of you were wondering. It couldn’t have been, this is raw footage straight from the Capitol’s systems.” He laces his fingers in front of him on the table.

“I want this aired.” You tell Paylor, she locks eyes with you. “I want the entirety of Panem to know that Finnick is the heartless asshole that sold out the Star Squad, and that it wasn’t me.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” She tells you.

“Why’s that?” You ask her, eyebrow twitching upward briefly.

“There was no harm done.” 

A scoff leaves your mouth as you get to your feet, trying to be the same eye level as her, since she refused to sit in a chair. “No harm done?” You repeat. “Are you sure? His lies were aired on Katniss’s trial. Everyone in Panem was tuned in to hear it. He humiliated me, and none of you would fucking believe me when I told you the truth.”

“Unfortunately—“ Plutarch begins, trying to help Paylor.

“I got cast out of District Four, the place that I—“ You tap your fingers to your chest multiple times, “was born and raised in. My people think that I’m some monstrous traitor. They didn’t feel safe with me there. This whole time they’ve been sleeping beside a killer.” you spit.

“That’s enough.” Finnick says.

You point at him, eyes sharp. “You don’t get to decide when it’s enough. You’ve had plenty of chances—plenty of time—to come clean, and you know what you said? You told me, ‘It was the right move to make’. You make me fucking sick.”

Finnick raises his hands defensively. “You could’ve said something, yourself.” 

“If I wasn’t so afraid that you were going to turn on me, too, I would’ve.” You snap. When you turn back to face Paylor, you tilt your head. “You sent me to District Two, where all your castaways go. There, I learned that my childhood home was burnt to the fucking foundation because they believed him.

“Would you consider that ‘no harm done’?” You ask her. “I didn’t get any of my belongings after the war, because you told me that my valuables weren’t urgent or important and that you’d ’get around to it’. I don’t have any pictures of my dead family, Paylor!”

The room is silenced again as you breathe heavily, trying to blink the rising tears from your eyes. You will not cry over this. You will not cry in front of any of them. They can’t see how desperate you are.

“I have the right to a trial.” You tell her, once the lump has left your throat. “And I want one. I want Finnick to be put on trial. His guidance murdered several members of the Star Squad.” You look at Finnick. “Messalla, Jackson, Castor, Homes and Leeg were lost in the sewers because of him.”

Haymitch, who’s standing in the very back corner, looking worse for wear, lets out a loud sigh. “She’s right. Finnick needs to be held accountable.”

“Thank you, Haymitch.” You relax.

Paylor looks down at the ground, closes her eyes and says, “Finnick Odair is now in the custody of the Capitol for his interference with Project: Mockingjay.”

“Paylor.” Finnick tries to reason, but her guards move forward immediately, cuffs in hand.

“I told you that you’d regret this.” You say to Finnick, his face twists. “Your actions have consequences, and it’s time you learn that.”

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Guilty Pt. II

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

[Summary]: When you arrive at the prison, you meet your new cellmate with an interesting personality and only days after you arrive, can Tara visit you.

[Warnings]: cursing (?), mentions of blood and murder, not proof read

A/N: Sorry for the wait!

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

2023 July 26th, 7:12PM

Carpenter Residence 

Tara stares at the coffee table in front of her as she sits on the couch in her and her sister’s living room, her face pale and emotionless. Her tie has been loosened and her makeup was smudged, her shaking hands gripping the heart-shaped medal of a necklace in her hand. Your necklace. 

Sam is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, her face in her hands as a few trickles of sweat trail down her arms because of the heat.

Mindy and Chad are sitting in front of each other in the dining room, just staring at the table with blank expressions.

The apartment was almost completely quiet. The only sound coming from the small fan in the dining room. Everyone was sad and devastated. Even angry. But no one dared to say anything. They know that you’re innocent. That you didn’t kill that family of three. But then again, who could they trust anymore? They’ve known you since birth, you all grew up together. And you went through the two ghostface attacks together. But then who did kill that family? The police didn’t have any other suspects. Just you. So maybe, it was a perfect framing…or maybe you did it.

—--

Folsom State Prison

Two guards held your arms tight, so tight there almost wasn’t any blood in them. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you just let them almost practically drag you to your cell. Where you’ll most likely spend the rest of your life. Your cheeks were tear-stained, your eyes blank as well as your mind. On your body clung a bright orange jumpsuit that was way too big for you. Your hands were handcuffed in front of you,shining brightly in the old lights of the hallway they’re dragging you down on. Loud shouts from other prisoners from cells you passed were heard. Shouts of real killers. Cheering for you. Like they’re happy that that family died. Happy that you killed them. That you’re one of them now. It made you feel disgusted, a painful knot forming in your abdomen and throat. 

As you slowly arrive at your cell, one of the guards lets go of your arms and opens the cell. The other guard pushes you inside roughly and the first one locks the cell door again before they walk away.

You let out a shaky sigh and look around, seeing a single toilet, a sink and a metal bed on one side of the cell. As you slowly turn around, you’re met with piercing dark green eyes staring back at you and you jump slightly. Then, you take a better look at the person in front of you. A white male, around 45 years old, green eyes, big dark beard with few spots of gray in it, bald, muscular. Then, all of a sudden a smile appears on his face.

“Hey there, mate. What are you doin’ here?” The man speaks, something like a Scottish accent in his voice. 

“U-Uhm..I’m sorry, who are you?” You ask, stepping farther away from him.

“Oh, right. It’s great to meet ya, mate. I’m Ray Anderson. And I’ll be your cellmate for uh…the rest of my life. You look really young, eh. What did ya do?” Ray speaks, sitting on his bed, almost face-to-face with you.

“I uh…I didn’-....I was framed.” You say in a shaky voice, swallowing hard as you stumble down onto your bed, not taking your eyes off of Ray.

“Hm, what a shame. So young, What’s your name, mate?” 

You blink a couple of times before licking your lips and answering. “Uh..Y/N” 

2023 July 30th, 2:05PM

Folsom State Prison visiting area

“Hi”

Tara’s voice is shaky as she speaks, looking at you through the glass as she holds the phone close to her ear. 

You exhale and shut your eyes, a feeling of relief washing over you.”Oh my god, it’s so good to hear your voice.” 

Tara laughs, tears in her eyes.”Yeah? It’s good to hear yours too. God, I miss you so much” Tara mumbles, putting her hand on the glass.

“I miss you, too”

Tara sighs and bites her lip, looking at your bad state.”How are you holding up?” She asks, leaning forwards a little.

“Uhm, I’m getting by. I…have an almost cool cellmate. If it wasn’t for the fact that he killed an entire bloodline.” You try to joke, looking into Tara’s eyes hopefully.

Tara giggles, a couple of tears threatening to fall, which makes you smile. Then her face turns serious. “You shouldn’t be here at all.” She shakes her head, looking down.

“Hey, look at me.” You say, your voice almost a whisper. Tara looks up and gazes into your eyes.”Eventually, they’ll find the real killer.”

Tara scoffs “Oh yeah, cause the police were such a big help whenever the ghostfaces came around. No, I’m gonna catch that motherfucker. I'm gonna search every state, every country. And I won’t stop until he’s behind bars or laying in a pool of his own blood” Tara mumbles out between gritted teeth as a dangerous glint appears in her eyes, like the one she had on the day when she killed Ethan in that old theater.

A soft smile appears on your face and you grip the phone tighter. “I know. But please be careful.”You almost beg her.

She looks at you and shakes her head.”I can never be too careful when it comes to you.”

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

A/N: Again, this is short but...whatever

[priniya]

DAYS LIKE THESE!

xavier thorpe finds himself in the weirdest, christmas situation — at his girlfriend’s house, experiencing something he never had before, a loving, family meeting.

notes. xavier thorpe x reader. just a christmas fluff because i need some! <3 implied psychic family! UNEDITED

masterlist • taglist (click to be added!)

when xavier agreed to the invitation to spend the christmas with you at your house, far from his neglectful, pretentious father, he expected something different. your family size was an undiscovered thing for him — obviously, he knew that you had a brother and a sister, since they’ve always visited on the parents weekend, but you hardly ever talked about anyone else.

so seeing five cars already parked on the driveway, and a mention of another two people being late, made him shocked. it was unusual for him to catch a glimpse of a family gathering so well planned, and so wanted that everyone shows up.

“xavier!” you exclaimed, running to him after a five minutes wait, freezing out, wearing the red sweatshirt he got you, and a pair of black jeans. his arms quickly embraced you in the tightest hug, lifting a few inches in the air. “i’m gonna pass out, i can’t believe you’re here.”

“believe me, the feeling’s mutual.” he chuckled, matching the wide grin on your face. “are those cars… yours?” thorpe let out, still in shock.

a frown was visible on your face as you entered the house quietly, trying to settle him in without any interruptions. “what? no, dummy. that’s all my siblings’ cars.” you laughed, throwing him a christmas sweater, knitted by your mom with a big, silver x in the center.

“what–?” he stammered. “you have five siblings? i thought you have three, you know, filly, julie and the little one.” you let out a small giggle upon hearing his words. “what? how many siblings do you have?” he asked, all confused.

“you know,” you began, adjusting the collar of his shirt, underneath his new sweater. “you’re an only child, and i strongly believe my parents don’t know the definition of contraception, but to answer your question — there’re five adults, me and julie, and four children from age ten to six, and then there are the twins, four years olds.” you babbled, not paying attention to the terrified impression spread over your boyfriend’s face.

“THIRTEEN? YOU HAVE TWELVE SIBLINGS?” xavier was completely horrified, imagining how your life must’ve been earlier, but then — he connected the dots, realizing that everything fitted like puzzle pieces. your house was enormous, your room was split in a half with red tape and a curtain, he caught a glimpse of the humongous yard behind the house, and lots of pictures near the stairs.

a pain of jolt rushed through his body — as a child, he always wanted to have at least one sibling, and you had twelve! his inner child couldn’t help but feel so envy of you. it’d be way easier to handle the family trauma, having someone to confide in.

“you know, my mom grew up in an orphanage and decided that once she starts a family of her own, it’d be like in the cheaper by the dozen movie, you know, and my dad also comes from a big family, so he never minded my mom’s dream.” you smiled, fingers ruffling through his hair. “and you’re one of us now, you’re the fastest to get your own sweater.”

“am i really?”

“my mom was thrilled to knit you one.” you planted a kiss on his lips, grinning at him. “so… she did after the one call you had with her. i don’t know if you remember, but it was in january, right after the new year’s eve.” he laughed, heat rushing to his cheeks as he smiled.

“Y/N!” your youngest sister barged into the room. “mom asks if you could stop hiding xavier, and let others meet him.” ginny’s eyes were focused on your boyfriend as she snatched him from you, tugging on his hand prior to pulling him outside.

you could sense how tense he was, standing in the doorframe with your youngest sister. it took them less than fifteen second to notice them. “back off!” ginny shouted, protecting xavier from your nieces and nephews. “i am his favorite.”

the room was quickly filled with laughter as you tickled the little girl. “okaaay, favorite after y/n.” she playfully rolled her eyes, not letting go of his hand.

when everyone was done with introductions, your boyfriend finally let him loose a little, having multiple chitchats with your brothers about anything, while you tried to remind the twins that xavier wasn’t the type of person who liked physical touch, even though he didn’t seem to mind anything — gemma occupying his laps during the dinner, while ginny babbled endlessly.

“hey, adrien.” filly, the only brother that xavier got to know beforehand, began. “you said you were looking for someone to help you with the exhibition at the art gallery, and you know, xavier is really talented with painting.” he suggested, throwing his arm around adrien’s shoulder.

“really? do you actually?” your oldest brother smiled slyly. “one guy stood me up, and i was looking for someone to replace him, would you like that?” the shock on his face earned a few giggles from your mom, and older sisters.

“if it’s not a problem – obviously.” xavier grinned, nodding his head eagerly. “thank you, really. that means so much to me.”

“i told you, you’re one of us!” you exclaimed, giving him a smooch on the cheek. “now, you’re obligated to attend every family event, and there’s a lot of, considering our fourteen birthdays as fourteen family events!”

the whole dinner went smoothly, your family immediately took your boyfriend under their wings, making him feel as comfortable as it was only possible. and then, the final of secret santas took a place. you almost cried, seeing how your mom gives xavier a few painting supplies, and hand warmers matching his sweater.

“gemma! someone has a gift for you!” you called out on behalf of the blonde boy. one of the twins teleported to the place where you stood, grin spreading over her lips as she watched him hand her the gift.

“it’s kind of cheating, but y/n had to tell me a few things.” words spilled out of his mouth, gaining the girl’s full attention. “but besides that, i drew you something.” she took out the gorgeous sketch from the bag, and before she even thanked him, he used his ability and moved the thing on the canva.

it was a duck, holding a guitar, a combination of two things your sister loves, playing one of her favorite songs. “woooow! it’s so pretty!” she gaped at him, admiration flickering in her eyes. “thank you so much! i love it.” catching him off guard, gemma clutched him in a hug.

it was around four in the morning, when everything finally died down and you found yourself covered in the silky sheets, watching as xavier swiftly gets rid of his clothing. “sorry if you felt overwhelmed by amount of people here, i asked them to give you space.” you whispered, your head resting on top of his chest.

“overwhelmed?” he snorted, shocking your head in fake disappointment. “i’ve longed for a christmas party like that ever since i was a kid. i’d never felt so accepted by anyone before.” a beam rosed on his lips as he planted a delicate on yours. “thank you for the invitation.”

xavier stayed with you, and your family for a few more days, taking in the perks of living in a full house, experimenting all the sweet interactions between your siblings and parents, being a part of all those meals together, feeling the fondness and tenderness of each actions.

it was his last night, when you were standing in the kitchen, blanket hanging on your shoulders, back pressed to the counter as you sipped on the hot-chocolate, recalling events from previous days, smile finding its way onto your face.

“hey!” you exclaimed happily, a little too loud for two in the morning, when you noticed your boyfriend in the doorway. “what’re you doing up so late?” you asked, wrapping the blanket around him.

“was looking for something to drink.” he muttered, leaving a kiss on your temple as his arm clutched you in a side hug, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, snatching the mug from your hand prior. “i’m going to miss this place.”

“you can visit whenever you want, no one will mind.” you sent him the prettiest smile you could, before resting your head on his shoulder. “really, the youngests love you, so does my mom, and my other siblings. you bought them with that smile.”

letting him go was the hardest, watching as he gets to the car with a small, sad smile tugged on his face. and when they finally left the driveway, for a brief second, you could see him waving at you.

but the nights like these were the only thing you’d remember, recalling them every night before you’d reunite at school. geez, xavier thorpe has you wrapped around his finger so easily — but could anyone blame you for this?

taglist: @tanaicarmyah @theyslayallday @emiliaserpe @v4mpicgh0ul @lastwandastan @sebastianstansimp @m3curys @macystyles-01 @smutsearcher @samdiedofnaturalcauses @poppet05 @y0ud0ntkn0wwh0 @akila-twt @crazyandanonymous4u @summe-rliu @izzy-mae-flowers @emmnf1 @veronalie @jessicalovestaron @yellowcupcakes @averyisbackinthetrashcan @maddie-routledge @lachlanzeez @tinafuentes @j4id3n-inan1mate0bj3cts @anothertakenlostwonderingsoul @m-maxie-ie @trixiemills @ethernal-onism @watermelonteapot (i couldnt tag some of u😕)

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton is interviewed in parc ferme after winning the race, britain - july 7, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

[crowd cheering] Jenson: "British Grand Prix. I've witnessed, obviously, your whole career in F1 and the achievements you've had, 104 victories now, but I've never seen you quite this emotional after a race." Lewis: "Yeah, I can't stop crying. [laughs] It's been since 2021, just every day, getting up, trying to fight, to train, to put my mind to the task and work as hard as I can with this amazing team. And this is my last race here at the British Grand Prix with this team, so I wanted to win this so much for them because I love them, I appreciate them so much; all the hard work they’ve been putting in over these years. I'm forever grateful to everyone in this team, everyone at Mercedes and all of our partners. And then, otherwise, to all our incredible fans. I could see you, lap by lap, as I was coming 'round and there's just no greater feeling as to finish at the front here." Jenson: "It seems that the last two-and-a-half years… It's been two-and-a-half years since you won a race. I never thought we'd say that about you. [laughs] You seem to always be able to get a win, every single season. You've put on a brave face." Lewis: "Yeah." Jenson: "It's been impressive to see, but you can tell, when you're such a winner… It's tough, right?" Lewis: "It's so tough, I think for anyone, but I think the important thing is just how you continue to get up, and you've got to continue to dig deep even when you feel like you're at the bottom of the barrel. I mean, there's definitely been days between 2021 and here where I didn't feel like I was good enough, or whether I was going to get back to where I am today, but the important thing is I had great people around me, continuing to support me and my team. Every time I turn up and see them putting in the effort, that really encouraged me to do the same thing. And otherwise, my fans, when I see them around the world, they have been so supportive, so… A big, big thank you to everybody back at the factory, everyone here. I love you guys, and God bless you." Jenson: "They threw everything at you in that race. Weather, cars on track, everything. You came out on top." Lewis: "Yeah." Jenson: "Congratulations." Lewis: "Thank you so much, Jenson. Thank you, guys."

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 95 🔞

Prompt: Straight Sex pt 2 / How Many Juyeon Ships Can I Write - Juyeon x Julie (Kiss of Life)

Tags: Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), public sex, come play, they’ve been drinking but aren’t drunk, Julie orders Juyeon around but he’s into it

A/N: I got a request for this ship (I love requests! 💕) & I’m not hugely familiar with Kiss of Life so if Julie is off in your mind, apologies. That being said this is fiction & not meant to represent the actual people in any way. This is not set in any of the previous universes involving Juyeon tempted as I was to tie this into yesterday’s entry.

Juyeon had a love / hate relationship with music festivals. He loved them because he got to see a lot of people he didn’t usually get to see. He hated them because his increasingly introverted personality got overwhelmed with events and activities quickly. He’d essentially snuck out to have dinner on his own when his phone went off.

Jules💎: I see you 👀

Juyeon looked around and then met the pretty (currently) brunette’s eyes at the other end of the bar. She was also alone. She nodded to the empty seat next to him.

Juyeon: Sure

He could tell when she got the message. She grinned at her phone, locked it, and hopped off her seat with her drink in hand to sit next to him.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she smiled when she sat down. She was in a black minidress and full hair and makeup.

“Were you expecting someone?” he asked after taking her in fully.

“Came straight from a shoot. Told the girls I needed a little me time. You?” she asked.

“Practice,” Juyeon replied, sipping his drink and trying to ignore the fact he was barefaced and threw on whatever was clean after he showered.

“Do you want to be left alone?” she asked.

“What? Why?” Juyeon asked.

“You just seem a little uninterested, that’s all,” she replied.

“No, not at all. I’m just a little overwhelmed. I know my MBTI says I’m an E, but I’m not feeling like it right now,” Juyeon told her.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely an E and sometimes I need to be alone for a while that’s not in the bathroom,” Julie smiled at him.

“Sometimes I don’t even get that,” Juyeon rolled his eyes. Julie laughed.

“No boundaries in your house either, eh?” she said.

“Zero,” he replied. “Especially Eric. He gets offended if I lock the door because I need to take a shit in peace.”

Julie almost snorted her drink.

“I’m sorry, that was way too much information,” Juyeon hid his face.

“I’m the uncouth American, remember?” she smiled, reaching over to tilt his chin to look back at her.

“Right,” he smiled back.

“Another round and split one of these obscenely expensive appetizers?” she suggested.

“Sounds great,” Juyeon finished his drink and Julie ordered for them. He liked not having to think. He liked it a lot. It was easy talking to her while they ate and drank.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not quite ready to call it a night yet,” she said, resting her hand on his thigh. It had been a while since he’d gotten laid and even longer since he’d fucked Julie. Her thirst traps did take up a lot of space in his encrypted photo album though. That tiny waist. That tiny fucking waist got to him every time.

“Tell me what to do,” he replied.

“I like my men big, dumb, and obedient,” she grinned. “Follow me to the bathroom. I checked earlier. They’re all private.”

“Did you plan on this?” he asked as she led him down the hall.

“Not exactly. I was just freshening up, but when I saw you by yourself I thought there was a decent chance. I know you’re not shy about fucking in public,” she replied.

“No,” Juyeon shook his head. Their first time was in the bathroom at one of the music shows. And their second. And their fifth. She pulled them into one of the bathrooms and locked the door behind them. She hopped up on the counter and spread her legs, revealing she wasn’t wearing panties.

“You, you were…” Juyeon stammered.

“I had them on for the shoot, but not since I got here,” she told him, reaching between her legs to touch herself. Juyeon’s cock ached at the sight. He watched as her pussy began to get wetter and pinker.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna get that impressive cock out and fuck me?” she asked, dipping a finger into her cunt and bringing it to her tongue to taste herself.

“Fuck you,” he squeaked. She smirked as he fumbled his pants open and underwear down. His cock bounced free, deep red and weeping.

“Well, looks like you’re ready,” she grinned. “I know I am.”

Juyeon stepped in front of the counter and teased her entrance with the tip of his dick.

“Fuck me good, big boy,” she instructed.

“Okay,” he nodded. Juyeon grabbed her waist, his hands almost fully encircling it, and entered her completely. She groaned at the stretch. He watched with lurid fascination as his cock slid in and out of her body the first few times.

“You like watching me speared on your cock?” she teased.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Such a man. Always so proud of their cocks. At least yours is worth it,” she said.

“Glad you think so,” he replied. She gripped the counter as he started fucking her harder. It felt good. He didn’t mind her telling him what to do. He was just there to pleasure her.

“I always forget how good you feel,” she mused.

“Am I making you feel good?” he asked.

“Very good,” she looked at him. Then he felt her pussy shudder for the first time.

“You ready?” he asked.

“I know you can fuck at least 2 out of me,” she replied.

“Fair,” he agreed. Juyeon tightened his grip on her waist and fucked the first orgasm out of her. She let her head drop back and dug her heels into his ass as she came. She might have still been fully clothed, but Juyeon could imagine what her heaving chest looked like naked. When she finished, she flicked her neck back, getting hair in her face. He reached up and pushed it back.

“Good?” he asked.

“Always,” she panted. “Anytime you want.”

Juyeon felt the first wave of heat in his lower belly when he began fucking into her again. Then he felt his balls start to tighten. She smirked, knowing exactly what was happening.

“Think you can take me with you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he grunted, sweat starting to roll down his temples. He reached down and teased her clit, causing Julie’s back to arch. He tried to breathe as he felt her flutter around him again.

“Just come, Juyeon,” she huffed. He did as he was told, emptying into her body as he tipped her over the edge again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she hissed through gritted teeth. He let go of her waist and planted his hands on the counter on either side of her hips as he came. When he finished, he pulled out, dropped to his knees, and began sucking their mixed juices out of her pussy. Julie scratched the top of his head as he ate her out.

“Good boy,” she praised. Juyeon stood up when he was satisfied he’d cleaned her up and tucked himself back in.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned and helped her off the counter. They pulled themselves together as much as possible and went back out to pay.

“I’ve got this,” Juyeon put his card down.

“I told you we would split it,” Julie insisted.

“It’s fine,” Juyeon smiled at her. He handed Julie a card while they were waiting for the bartender to return.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The key to my room. I got the single room this time. See you later?” he told her.

“See you later,” she agreed.

[narrans]

Stellar Allies | Part Five

GT July | Stellar Allies | Part Five

Words: Overbearing, Out of Reach, Distortion

The question lingered in the back of Cliff’s mind for a few moments as the situation settled over him. It made perfect sense that Ol’oih, their newfound alien companion, would probably have crew members with him. If that thing that was in the sky was their ship, the pieces that broke off were probably also escape pods and not just meteorite debris as he and Jax originally thought.

With that being said, Cliff’s mind drew a complete blank. When they realized how close Ol’oih’s escape pod, what they thought was a meteorite, had landed, they’d abandoned all observation on the other chunks that broke from the main body. If he thought about the trajectory of where the main body was going, it was possible for them to maybe find out what happened to one of the pieces.

On the other hand, it was equally as possible th-.

“What did he ask?” Jax’s voice made Cliff jump. He’d been so focused trying to solve the question and the issues it presented that he completely forgot about keeping his friend in the loop. He looked down into the crate and saw Ol’oih’s hopeful features gazing back at him while Jax’s face held minor annoyance that he had to wait for Cliff to translate since he was the only one with a direct line of communication to the alien.

“I… sorry. He wanted to know if we knew what happened to the rest of the crew. I’m guessing the thing we saw falling from the sky last night was the main ship, and he wants to know if we know anything about the others,” stated Cliff. He looked down at Ol’oih and swallowed the dryness forming in his throat. “How many others were a part of your crew?”

“There are seven of us total,” Ol’oih pathed, not hesitating when being asked. He felt like he could trust these two, at least at the moment, and he needed to know anything and everything he could before planning his next move. “There is Captain Immott Imai, second-in-command Adda Noz’ex, medical officer Scix’en Trok, our two technical specialists Arcal Kor and Valaih Du’uhl, and then cultural specialist Q’crul Kaelis. Also, as stated before, I am the linguistic specialist. I was meant to be a translator and dialogue analyzer on our information gathering mission.”

The names came so quickly from their six-inch-tall alien companion that Cliff had no hope of trying to memorize or pronounce any of the names correctly. He doubted he could even list one of the names at the moment and instead continuing to listen as Ol’oih continued “pathing” to him.

“We were in orbit and descending in our ship to harness clearer readings when something happened aboard our ship. I do not know if it was an electrical issue or if we were struck, but whatever the case we began entering the atmosphere and had to abandon ship,” Ol’oih pathed as he felt a wave of sadness sweep over him.

I don’t even know if they’re alive. Best case scenario, they managed to rendezvous with the observation team here on the ground and are trying to track either my pod or my suit. Worst case scenario… they’ve been found.

Ol’oih remembered hearing stories and reading books written about the human race, and much of the literature read like a horror story. Capture. Torture. Containment. Uncooperativeness. Destruction. Granted, in those stories the alien race was often the aggressor, but Ol’oih’s people were different.

We’re Stren, not some warring race like the Off’el. We wouldn’t hurt them. It’s why we’re here – to gather information to see if they’re ready for true first contact. Are humans more like us? Or like the Off’el?

“Um… Ol’oih?” He looked up and could read it in the boys’ faces. Though nonverbal communication was limited from their various intercepted transmissions, the miniscule alien could tell that the information they boys had was going to be minimal and disappointing.

Amazing how much I can read just in their faces. It’s like my ciferi. Interesting.

“Yes?” Ol’oih pathed, making sure to speak with intention rather than let his internal thoughts mingle with what he wanted Clifford and Jaxson to hear.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t know what happened to your crewmates,” stated Cliff with a disappointed shake of his head. “We saw the big piece go by and probably crash north of us, but not any of the other fragments. That’s all we know. If anyone else was watching the sky last night, they’d probably be all over the area by now looking for meteorite fragments and maybe finding pieces of your ship.”

“And that’s if a hobbyist got to the pieces first. You know how close we are to Area 51? We’d be lucky if a hobbyist found what was left of your ship. If the government or other organization got to it first, there’s no way we’d find out wha-” Jax was cut off by a stern glare from Cliff, which Ol’oih immediately picked up.

“Wait. What was that? Please! Do not be dishonest with me now. Why did you cut Jaxson off? What is Area 51? And your… government? That is your elected republic officials, yes? Do they… know about us? About life beyond your orbit? Please! Clifford! Jaxson!” Ol’oih pathed. He could hear the desperation in his tone and hoped Cliff would understand how distraught he was.

And Cliff did.

He didn’t mean to shut down his best friend, but he was hoping to give the information a little at a time to not scare the alien. The last thing Cliff wanted was for the little guy to go rogue or hostile, especially while he was physically attached to the alien’s tail-like appendage. The fluctuating gradation of colors rippling over Ol’oih’s skin told Cliff that the alien was feeling distress and uncertainty, and rightfully so.

“Clifford? If you know something, I urge you to share it. Please! If my crew – my friends – are in danger, I need to try and help them. C-can you ask Jaxson to… to… explain? O-or you could! Please!” Ol’oih pathed again, boldly taking a step toward the boy’s hand and laying his palms against the base of the boy’s index finger.

Cliff hated he and his friend had contributed to it, but there was no changing it now. Cliff sighed and exchanged a look with Jax, who had obviously picked up on the fact that he’d shared a bit too much too fast based on the sheepishly guilty look on his face.

“He… wants you to explain.” Cliff gave a nod to his friend and, understanding his meaning, Jax jumped into the conversation. This time, however, Jax was obviously being a bit more precise with his words. He had just began talking as if it were just him and Cliff. It hadn’t occurred to him in that exact moment that the alien wouldn’t know about the conspiracies and rumors about what Jax was referring to.

“I… sorry. I didn’t want to scare you or anything,” apologized Jax. “It’s just… there’s a lot of weird stuff that happens. Um… do you know what a conspiracy is?”

“Conspiracy? No. Define, please,” pathed Ol’oih. He continued to take long, deep breaths to keep his body from thrumming nervously to the point where he might panic or shut down entirely.

“He doesn’t know what it means,” translated Cliff.

“Oh, um… well… a conspiracy is technically defined as a ‘secret plan by a group to do something unlawful or harmful;’ however, people… that is, us humans, sometimes use the word conspiracy when referring to something that may or may not be true because we don’t have enough evidence to back it up. There is supposed ‘evidence,’ but sometimes it comes from an unreliable source. Make sense?” asked Jax.

When Cliff shook his head, obviously translating for Ol’oih, Jax continued.

“Um… okay. Here’s an example. Some people don’t think that humans landed on the moon. Even though there are pictures and stories and all sorts of other pieces of ‘evidence,’ some people think it is a conspiracy – a lie – to cover up the truth that we never set foot on the moon. We say it’s a conspiracy because the people who are telling us that we landed on the moon are secretive and part of a larger organization that may or may not have an agenda.” Jax felt like he didn’t explain everything well, but Ol’oih seemed to be understanding because he looked back to Cliff and then back to him as Cliff translated once more.

“So, tell him about Area 51.”

“Right, so. Area 51 is a military base owned by the government. A lot of people, myself and Cliff included, think that Area 51 is a place where our government hides the existence of aliens from us. There have been countless stories and sightings of ships, in theory, but nothing has been confirmed officially. There are countless conspiracies that there’s UFO testing and alien research that goes on there, but no one really knows because everything there is classified as top secret and no one who works there will talk about what they actually do.

“Now, we actually live not too far away from Area 51, this top secret testing facility, which is what worries me because if we saw your ship, other people who work there might also have seen it and are investigating it right now. I was saying if we were lucky that others, like Cliff and I, might’ve gotten to the crash sites first and might be helping you and your crew; and that if we are unlucky, the people who work there might’ve gotten to the wreck sites first.

“Sorry… I… I’m sorry. I should’ve thought before blurting out stuff like that. I really hope your crew is okay,” said Jax as guilt constricted his chest. He was so used to talking openly with his friend about these kinds of things that it wasn’t even a second thought for him to think about what this information could mean to Ol’oih who, after hearing this, immediately felt faint.

Head swirling and body taking over, his legs buckled and he fell backwards completely limp. Thankfully, Cliff and Jax had both reached forward and caught him before he hit the hard ground. It only lasted a few seconds, but blackout was enough for Ol’oih to realize how dire his situation really was.

They’re not like us. How could we have missed this? Years of observation and we missed this? We knew about their wars and crimes against one another, and we’ve had our struggles too, but to know they’re more like Off’el?

Ol’oih had to know if his crewmates were okay. They had to be! Forcing control back over himself, Ol’oih pushed himself against the boys’ hands until he was upright and waited for the nausea to subside before daring to path back to Cliff again. There was one way he could tell if they were alright or not, but he couldn’t do it alone.

“Clifford, please. I need your help. I need to know if my crewmates are okay.” Images of his friends flashed before his eyes, and he intentionally allowed those images to path to the human boy. Simple things. Them eating meals together. Studying as a group. Leaning back in their pods as they started their expedition here to Earth.

“Woah… Did you just?” Cliff could have sworn that, as he blinked, some of Ol’oih’s memories flashed before his eyes like photo negatives from an old film camera. “Never mind. What can we do?”

“My escape pod. I need it. Please. It possesses equipment to locate their transponders. Also, a current map of our location, specifically that area Jaxson was referring to,” pathed Ol’oih. He knew he must sound overbearing at the moment, but that didn’t matter. What he needed was out of reach and this was the only way he could have peace of mind.

The alternative was far too distressing to consider so soon after he’d managed to find solace in these human allies who had found him.

“Y-yeah. Definitely. Um… Jax, would you grab Ol’oih’s escape pod? He says he’ll be able to find his crewmates with the tech he’s got on it,” said Cliff.

“Sure thing.” Jax carefully tilted his hand so Ol’oih was sitting entirely on Cliff’s fingers while he ran over and grabbed the pod from its hiding place.

“Ol’oih, it’s going to be okay,” Cliff reassured. “We’ll find them.”

I hope so, but what state will they be in when they’re found? Ol’oih wondered silently to himself.

Jax finally managed to pull out the escape pod and carefully set it down in the middle of Cliff’s bedroom. Both boys exchanged an awkward glance, knowing the pod wouldn’t fit inside of the crate comfortably. They knew they needed to bring Ol’oih to the pod, which meant picking him up. Feeling the urgency, Cliff decided to bite the bullet and addressed the issue head on.

“Um… Ol’oih? Is it okay if I… pick you up?” asked Cliff.

“Pick me up? What?” pathed Ol’oih.

“The pod won’t fit directly into this crate here, so we can either tilt the whole thing after pulling out the dishes and stuff, or I can just lift you out really quick and set you over there by your escape pod,” explained Cliff.

If he was being honest with himself, Ol’oih didn’t like the idea of being held. Some of the other beings his people interacted with on a daily basis were as large as humans and, as part of training, they had to simulate being held or carried in a plethora of positions.

Still, it made him uncomfortable.

His comfort, however, wasn’t the primary concern.

His entire body now almost completely consisting of yellow and gray hues, he pathed back, “That is fine, though I would prefer crouching to being encased.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Cliff. He gingerly slid his hand under Ol’oih’s feet while keeping his left hand nearby for stability and because Ol’oih’s tail, or “addon” as he called it, was still firmly imbedded into his flesh. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Cliff inhaled a steadying breath as he lifted Ol’oih’s entire body up off of the ground. The little six inch tall alien was lighter than expected, and his balance was a bit unstable. Cliff guessed it was because his tail probably acted as a counterbalance when on unsteady surfaces, like that of a cat, and that he couldn’t use it at the moment and instead resorted to gripping onto Cliff’s fingers for dear life. It was fascinating to feel all four fingers on each hand grasp individually onto the ridges of his fingers, but Cliff would revel in the interaction later.

The moment the back of his hand was resting on the ground, Ol’oih rushed over to his ship and climbed inside, partially jerking Cliff forward since he hadn’t disconnected his tail.

In the pod, Ol’oih crouched and began typing as fast as possible any and all commands to ping the members of his crew. The lights flickered for a moment, making his heart sink, before glowing dimly. The image was a bit distorted, but the module was ready to receive instructions, and that’s exactly what he intended to do with it.

If they’re relatively close, I should be able to signal their transponders. It’ll let them know I’m pinging them.

The signal went out and Ol’oih held his breath as the screen dimmed and crackled. His thrumming body was making every part of him shake in anticipation. It was unnerving. Every element of training had prepared him for the worst case scenario, but living it was an entirely different matter.

Please… please Ove… let them be alive and unhar-…

Through the distortion on the yellowed, flickering screen, thirteen dots appeared. Ol’oih couldn’t believe his eyes. Not only were the dots clearly visible, but they were also clustered together and, if his readings were correct, not too far away.

The real question was whether or not they were in this infamous “Area 51.”

“Clifford. Do you have the map? And could you or Jaxson mark Area 51 on it?” Ol’oih pathed, looking eagerly up at the two boys.

“Got it,” said Jaxson, as if he already knew what the miniscule alien was asking for by a simple look. In his hands, he held the tablet down so that Ol’oih could better see the screen. His eyes flicked from the instruments in his pod and then back to the screen in Jaxson’s hands.

Both human boys held their breath as they waited for some kind of indication. Neither wanted to be the first to break the silence. The air around them was saturated in anxiety so tangible it could be cut with a knife.

Then, they saw it happen.

Ol’oih’s shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

No… are we… too late? Cliff wondered.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

@gianttol #gtjuly #gtjuly2024

[scoops-aboy86]

And we're now up to part A of the main events of s4, with an (un?)healthy dose of mutual pining. Bon appétit.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 of the love spell no go au

It’s a panic reflex, really. 

Eddie sees Chrissy start to float and he knows what this is. Not the exact spell, he’s never had the nerve to dig into those kind of grimoires, those fuckers’ll take your fingers right off—but it’s definitely dark magic. And the best way to respond to dark magic is to get as far away from the spellcaster as fucking possible. He doesn’t know where the spellcaster is, so he reaches for the best hiding place he can think of off the top of his head. 

One second he’s in the trailer, screaming and flailing out the spell, and the next he lands on his ass in Reefer Rick’s dank little boathouse where no one or nothing will find him. 

… Okay, maybe not no one. 

“Eddie?!”

With a gasp, Eddie struggles to kick off the tarp and clamber out of the old motorboat. “Steve!” His foot is still tangled in the tarp, though, so he trips, stumbles into the other boy, and sends both of them thumping up against the nearest wall. “Fuck.”

But Steve’s arms wrap around him all the same. “Shit, Eddie, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He’s not, though. He is so not okay. 

Dustin is asking him about dark particles before it really clicks for Eddie—they know. Maybe not that it’s magic, but they’ve seen things before, enough to not question any of what he tells them. 

“How did you get all the way out here without your van?” the redhead, Max, asks shrewdly, and he recognizes her as one of his neighbors across the way. 

“I, uh.” Eddie doesn’t want to lie, because even as freaked out as he is he knows that he might end up having to tell them at this point—sorry Wayne. But that point hasn’t come yet. “I just… ran, I don’t know. I l-left her there.”

Steve still has a hand on his shoulder, at once reassuring and bewildering, and squeezes it now. “What happened to Chrissy wasn’t your fault, Eds. You said she was already gone, so it’s… You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Eddie is in no way okay. 

God only knows how long later, Eddie matches Steve’s pace through what the younger Hellfire members dubbed the Upside Down back in ‘83. He keeps wondering if he should tell them they don’t need the guns; he knows enough defensive spells and a fire spitting trick that should be protection enough. Most of those involve setting up in a fixed location, though, meaning they’d have to hole up rather than find (or fight) their way back home… and he’s not confident enough to put all of their eggs in his basket. 

It was all he could do to get his battle vest on Steve. Eddie, wary from years of being bullied, had sewn stealth and protection in with every thread he’d added to the garment, slipped healing charms in under the patches and then sewn them in place. 

And then Steve says “I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” which throws Eddie for a loop. 

“Pretty sure it was the dark wizard that dragged me into this, Stevie.” 

Eddie still doesn’t know if his involvement was intentional or not—if he was targeted as collateral damage because of his family and heritage or if it was all about Chrissy and he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He doesn’t know if his spell to get away was noticed, either, but… it would have been small potatoes compared to this asshole casting from a completely different dimension, so maybe not. Which is not very reassuring, but speculation is all he has right now. 

After an awkward moment of silence, Eddie clears his throat. “So, uh… all this is why you’ve been tense since July? And why you started buying from me?”

Steve doesn’t look up from where he’s putting one foot carefully in front of the other, mindful of the sentient vines. “Yeah.” He gives a halfhearted shrug. “This is different from the last time, but it’s always different. Like, usually I get most of my injuries from getting hit by regular people, but—” he gestures at the red and bruise-mottled marks circling his neck from that demonic bat thing “—this time I guess it’s the monsters’ turn. Never know what to brace for.”

“… Well shit,” Eddie sums up, not knowing what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a humorless laugh. “Thanks for jumping in after me though, dude. I know it’s all a lot and you're already kind of stuck with being involved, and with… losing Chrissy like that… but, yeah. It means a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t like the unfamiliar way Steve tenses up as he says this, and is puzzled by the strange phrasing. He didn’t really know Chrissy, they’d had literally two conversations and the second one was in the minutes immediately before her sudden demise. Sure, he’d wanted to help her and feels like throwing up any time he thinks about how she died, but they hadn’t exactly been close. Nothing like how he and Steve are. Why wouldn’t he try to save his… his friend?

“Nancy and Robin went first. I’m a shitty swimmer,” Eddie admits. “That’s the only reason I didn’t jump in sooner… Turned out I was more scared of being alone in that boat than I was of drowning, so yay for me. The girls did most of the heavy lifting, and you ripped that bat in half with your bare hands. That’s fucking metal by the way. A total Ozzy move.”

“Ozzy.” Steve’s forehead wrinkles, actually turning his gaze to Eddie. “Isn’t that the Black Something guy?”

“Sabbath,” he supplies, nodding. And then recounts the legend of Ozzy Osborne biting a bat’s head off on-stage. End of the world or not, he still considers himself morally obligated to lure Steve away from the top 40 pop hits, tempting him towards the dark side with impassioned lyrics and sick guitar riffs. 

He almost feels able to pretend that things are normal and they’re just idly chatting, until a brief earthquake that almost knock both of them down onto the fucking sentient vines and reminds him. 

The night between finding their way back out of the Upside Down and formulating a plan, the older teens take turns guarding the gate in the Munson trailer. Eddie almost breaks down and tries a circle of protection, but he’s not sure how to do that on the ceiling, there isn’t enough salt in the pantry to circle the entire trailer, and even if there were, Max’s place can’t fit all of them. 

Besides, he thinks glumly, he’s not sure it would even help with these kinds of monsters. Isn’t sure what kind of traction his magic will have on things spawned in a different plane.

So he helps Steve drag his shitty mattress back into the bedroom (because Steve refuses to sit out helping even with literal bites taken out of his sides) for the four of them to sleep on during watch shifts. And gets fresh blankets and sheets from Max, at Robin’s insistence. 

“New bandages,” he says to Steve once that’s done, pointing towards the bathroom in a way that he hopes brooks no argument. He’s already got a shirt and pair of sweatpants that pass the sniff test from his closet and a definitely clean pair of boxers from the dresser clutched in his other hand, ready to go.

Steve blinks at him, twice, then looks down at his own torso where Nancy’s ripped sweater is still tied around his wounds, dark from grime and spotting blood, and sighs. “Yeah, fine.”

Eddie shuts the door behind them, which makes the already cramped trailer bathroom feel even smaller. “Okay, so… Fastest way to do this is probably to hop in the shower and rinse off. You’re covered in lake and fuck knows what else from that place, don’t want any of that shit getting in the wounds. Don’t, uh, don’t scrub those, just everything else.” And busies himself with hauling the first aid kit out from under the sink, which is always a pain in the ass whether the door is open or not. The damn thing is too big for the space because of all the extra compartments for healing spell ingredients, quite a few of which he’s already planning to surreptitiously use.

Nothing happens behind him, so after a moment he pauses and looks over his shoulder to see Steve still as dressed as he was when they walked in. 

“This is going to take me a while, it’ll all go faster if you start washing up now,” he points out, not trying to be brusque but he’s… not the best with blood, and trying to steel himself for what’s coming. “If you’re worried about your modesty, I promise not to look.”

“Don’t care about that,” Steve says, and he sounds tense. 

Eddie tries not to think about how he’s just been handed indirect permission to watch Steve undress and shower. Jesus H. Christ. “Then… are you dragging your heels because you wanna tell me that you do have demon bat rabies, or…?”

“No.” Steve sighs, and runs a dirty hand through his already disheveled and deflated hair. How he still manages to look hot after all they’ve been through, Eddie has no idea. “How, uh. How thin are the walls?”

From outside the bathroom, Robin calls, “Pretty thin, Steve-o.”

No further answer to that question needed, Eddie inclines his head towards the door. “You heard the lady. Turning the water on helps, even though the pressure is shit. It’ll get cold pretty fast, though, so you’ll want to be quick.”

For a moment, it still seems like Steve has something he wants to say. Eddie waits patiently, looking off to the side so he doesn’t have an aneurism while Steve strips down and turns the water on, but once Steve steps under the spray he seems wholly focused on peeling away the makeshift bandages so Eddie returns to wrestling with the first aid kit. They don’t talk; Steve remains eerily silent even through disinfecting the bites on his sides and the road rash on his back, even though all of it must sting like a bitch. And then Eddie wraps him up in clean gauze and medical tape and a few subtle spells to help ease the pain and help speed the healing along, hands Steve the clean clothes to change into, and slips out of the bathroom trying not to think about how Steve’s hair now smells like his bargain bin shampoo. 

“All patched up?” Robin asks, joining Steve on the mattress as they settle in for some sleep before their staggered shifts start. Since he’s injured, Nancy put him last on the rota so he could get more uninterrupted rest up front. 

He nods. Flicks his eyes to the closed bedroom door, remembering from the bathroom that it really only provides the illusion of privacy, and shuffles around to lie down with a dejected sigh. 

Robin follows. They lay down facing each other, cramped on the narrow bed, but they’ve done this before—Steve’s is a full, but Robin’s is a twin-sized just like this one.

In a whisper barely more than a breath, she says, “You wanted to tell him.” It’s not a question.

“Not with Nancy listening,” he whispers back. “And… Chrissy, I shouldn’t…”

Robin’s lips press into a thin line, almost invisible in the darkened room. “There’s no way Eddie Munson was hooking up with Chrissy Cunningham, dingus. Can you even see them together? No way.”

“Can you see Eddie Munson with Steve Harrington?” he hisses back, a little too loud—but though they both freeze to listen, to be sure, there’s no sound. No sign that anyone overheard. 

“Maybe,” Robin retorts softly once they’ve both settled again. “You’re not exactly a bastion of conformity anymore, you know, mister babysitter with a lesbian band nerd for a best friend expert monster killer… guy. He could go for you. And I don’t think… I mean, I don’t know, but… I don’t think he’s into girls, Steve.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Steve whispers.

The eye-roll in response is practically audible. “Because he watches you all the time. And that thing with the vest when Nancy was looking at you.”

“So? I watch him all the time, and I like both!”

“Well, if I’m wrong and he is like you, doesn’t that at least mean—”

“I just don’t want to get in the way if he’s mourning her, Robs. I don’t want to be a, a rebound or for anything to happen just because we might die. Because then what if we don’t, and he doesn’t… want me anymore? I can’t do that again.”

With a rustle of blankets, Robin scoots closer to pull him into a hug. Steve doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t cry—but his hand fists in the back of her shirt and he holds on tight. 

They’re still in that position an hour or so later when Eddie comes to tag Robin in, whispering that all is still quiet on the ceiling-ward front as she extracts herself. Steve remains dead asleep, even when Eddie hesitantly worms his way under the covers while staying as close to the edge of the mattress as possible so as not to disturb him.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

[new-revenant]

Have an unfinished fic! It was supposed to be a monster au thing, but whatever. I don’t know what I was thinking anymore. I don’t really like this that much, but it isn’t terrible. Putting it under the cut so I think about it less lol. It’s 2,372 words, not that bad.

“Day 3, July 13, 2004. I have been…dead for three days, hence the ‘Day 3,’ you know?” Danny solemnly chuckled, sadness seeping through his voice. Why was even doing this? For the sake of his sanity? Must be something like that. For his sanity, he continues.

“Us Fenton-Nightingales have monster-hunting in our blood. Although, my parents only believe in ghosts, not all those other magical creatures. But my parents also thought that ghost were monsters from another realm, so guess what-they know jack SHIT!

“Heh heh, ‘jack,’ that’s my dad’s name,” He paused, closing his eyes before inhaling sharply, continuing his meaningless spiel. For his sanity, he speaks into the recorder.

“I died, I died…three days ago, and now I’ve somehow fled to a town FULL of MONSTERS. And they were so nice, so nice because they think I’m one of them. They’ve let me live-live, ha-in a house that they couldn’t find a buyer for since I guess there aren’t too many of them living in the damned town!”

“So now I’m staying here. A not-quite-living not-quite-ghost boy with monsters. A monster hunter living with monsters.”

“My name is Daniel,” -he paused, he sighed, he continued- “Daniel Vladimir Fenton-Nightingale. And I’m half ghost, half human, and full on confused about just about everything I guess. Signing off!“

        ☁︎Two Days Earlier☁︎

Danny knew he was about to be doing something stupid. It would not be the first time he’d do something stupid. But this time, this time he was prepared. He had looked over the blueprints and notes for his parents’ machine thousands of times, he knew what it was supposed to do, and he knew that his parents failed.

A portal to the realm of ghosts, right in their basement. Their life goal, their lives’ work. And it failed. Jazz, his sister, took them both out to get some fresh air and groceries once it did. Danny engraved the looks of despair they bore as they dragged themselves out of the house into his mind.

Danny was smart. He had mostly straight As in school, getting only Cs in math. God he hated math. The Fenton-Nightingales-or just the Fentons-were a family of hunters, of geniuses, and he was no exception. Two heads were better than one, so three heads were even better. He could-no, he should help. He was going to make them happy.

Danny noticed the flaws in the wiring, in the circuits, in the paneling. They were minor, barely noticeable even to him, but even small holes can sink a ship. So he put on a hazmat suit-and took off the giant sticker of his dad’s face on it-and set out to work. It didn’t take too long, and Danny managed to fix every single thing he could find. He had worked with machines with his parents as soon as he learned how to solve those putting-the-right-shape-in-the-right-hole puzzles. He had worked with his parents with hunting ghosts, he knew how they worked, how they acted, how they faked human emotions to gain sympathy. He was born for helping his parents with this machine. And he would fix it no matter what it took.

So Danny turned on the portal again, waiting for something to happen. Seconds passed, nothing did. He sighed, and sat down on the floor. But he did something, and he would help even more when his parents came back. It could be one of those fun bonding moments between them all. He was sure even Jazz would love to help them, wanting to make their parents happier as much as Danny did.

Taking his hazmat suit off, he carefully and neatly put it back into the storage he got it from. Danny didn’t know what to do now, his parents wouldn’t be back for another hour at the very least.

So Danny was going to do something even more stupid-going inside of the portal. Since it didn’t work, maybe Danny missed something that he could fix later. The portal was spacious, going back several yards and being more than twice his height. He was awestruck at it all, loving every moment of scouting around the machine.

Then he saw it. A lone wire sticking out of the paneling. Without any thoughts in his head that weren’t focused on helping his parents, he took the panel off, and with his left arm he grabbed the wire and connected it to another.

He never turned the portal off.

The next thing that Danny remembered after moving the wire was his senses being invaded by an agonizingly bright green, by the smell of his own burning flesh, and by his own pained screams. Then he was on the ground, that green light pooling at his feet.

Danny could only blink. Danny tried to breathe, before quickly realizing a stomach churning fact-he didn’t need to breathe. He always had a feeling that his parents’ theory that ghosts were actually monsters from another world were a bit…off. And now he could see the truth.

Danny Fenton, the son of two ghost hunters, was now a ghost. He had an idea of what this meant. He could be next. No, he would be next. His parents wouldn’t even think he was their son, wouldn’t even think twice about ripping him apart. He tried to scramble to his feat, but instead ended up hovering a few feat above the ground. He was upright though, so that was a plus. A small, small plus.

A second plus was that the portal was on. It worked, his parents’ machine worked and Danny made it work. It only costed him his life. Danny started to laugh, laugh at how he was now the very thing that his parents hated. It was a crazed, depressed laugh. A laugh that echoed throughout the basement. It quickly turned into a scream, a shriek, more like. He barely registered the tears coming down his face as he mourned his own horrifically ironic fate.

But Danny had to move on, move on for his own twisted survival. Wading through the air, Danny went over to flip the switch for the portal, attempting to turn it off, failing to not pass through it multiple times before the green, swirling mess of the portal disappeared. He heaved out a sigh of relief. His parents would come home, and they would try to turn on the portal again, and then they be happy. He looked in the portal, a ghost of a smile on his face. He saw the panel he took off on the floor, and put it back without a second thought. Only after a lot of spinning around in the air and failing multiple times to even pick the stupid thing up.

Then Danny thought about something-where was his body? His body wasn’t there, not even any ashes. Oh god, it probably fell through the portal. But if it fell through the portal, why was the panel still there? Suddenly, outside of his control, Danny gasped, a breath of air coming out of his mouth, like he was out on a cold winter day. But it was mid-July and he was dead. Danny looked around and saw something-blob ghosts, many of them surrounding an ectopuss. That’s when he learned that ghosts can have adrenaline.

Danny zipped to one of the tables in the basement, grabbing the Fenton Thermos on it. Turns out, it was much easier to move as a ghost when you ignored your legs. The thermos was a ghost catching device that his parents were working on, that they were almost done with. Danny pointed it at the ectopuss, which now noticed him, shrieking at him. Danny pressed the capture button, half expecting it not to work. And it didn’t. He passed it to his left hand to examine it further, before seeing that his fingers were charred, with lightning-shaped scaring starting from his palm that went up his arm, probably going even further across his body. A lightbulb went off in Danny’s head, and he pointed the thermos back at the ectopuss as it scuttled closer to him. Danny pressed down the capture button yet again.

His scar lit up green, and he could feel it from the left side of his face, his chest, and back down to his arm. A beam of circulating blue light erupted from the thermos, sucking in both the ectopuss and all of the ghost blobs. Then the cap closed with a snap, leaving Danny alone in the basement lab. He hovered there for a moment, stunned.

Danny quickly came to a conclusion as to what to do now. He obviously had to leave. His parents couldn’t know that he was a ghost-that he was dead. Danny flew up the stairs, flew up all the stairs to his room. He grabbed a travel bag, focusing on making himself more solid as he did so. It worked, and he was able to shove a bunch of clothes in it. He didn’t think he would actually need any of it, but he’d rather have his parents think he had ran away.

Actually, that was a great idea, he should do that. He grabbed another bag and put some miscellaneous items in it, like toiletries, a headband, a voice recorder, and an unopened bag of glow-in-the-dark stars. He was going to put them all around his room eventually, but now that was never going to happen. Danny even put one of his goggles in there, the lens being the same pale blue his eyes were. But were his eyes still blue now? 

Usually ghosts didn’t look much like humans, typically having green, blue, or blueish-green skin. But as Danny looked at his hands, they looked...more human-like. His skin did look a bit tanned, a bit burnt, but it didn’t have any green or blue coloring to it as far as he could see. Maybe a very, very slight green tint if he stared hard enough.

Maybe he could try phasing through the wall to get to the bathroom. His parents probably would’ve put up something in the walls to make sure ghosts don’t-and holy fuck they didn’t Danny just went straight through it. Why didn’t they have anything to stop ghosts from phasing through the walls?! Wait, was that even possible? Danny didn’t dwell on that for too long, trying to just focus on looking at his reflection. His black hair was now a snowy white, his once white shirt with red accents now black with blueish-green accents, and his blue eyes now a bright green. His lighting scars were glowing the same green, albeit very faintly, reaching all the way up his face to just below his left eye. Danny himself was emanating a very faint white glow, which was the most normal ghost thing that was going on, but it’s not like he even knows what’s normal anymore.

Danny groaned, dragging his hands over his face, scowling into the mirror. His eyes and face were stained with his tears, and while looking at his reflection just a bit more, he noticed that his hair was longer. He had a bit of a mullet now, and his bangs almost completely covered his face, even though he could see through it perfectly fine. Another lightbulb went off in his head, remembering something. He went back to his room, picking up a book. It was an encyclopedia about ghosts that his parents did not write but he loved anyways. Flipping through the pages, he found quickly found what he was looking for.

“‘The Banshee,’” Danny read the passage aloud, “‘an Irish spirit that foretells the death of a family member by wailing, screaming, shrieking, or keening.’ What is keening? Whatever. ‘They are typically perceived as a young woman or an old hag, with pale skin, long hair, and a long dress, ’” Danny skimmed the rest of the page until he found something else that caught his eye.

“‘In some Irish mythology stories, the Banshee is the ghost of a young girl that suffered a brutal death,’“ Danny muttered. Would he…would he count as a Banshee? He was definitely similar in some aspects, especially with that brutal death part. Would dying in the portal count as a brutal death? Probably. 

Danny groaned, he was going to think about this later. Him being a banshee or not wasn’t  as important as booking it out of here. He stuffed the book and the working Fenton Thermos he used into his bag and closed it. He needed to go now, before his parents came back. Before then, he grabbed a spare piece of paper and a pencil, racking his brain for what to write. Soon enough, he figured out what to do.

Dear mom, dad, and Jazz,

I can’t stay here any longer. I hope you’ll understand one day. I hope I’ll be able to come back.

But I need to leave. I’m so sorry. I fixed the portal and I’ve seen things no one should ever see. I love you all and I’m so sorry.

With love, Danny

Danny sighed. Maybe he should just come clean and tell the truth. But that would be risky, and Danny could barely write without his hand slipping through the pencil. He’ll come back one day. He had to. And he had to leave.

Danny phased though the walls, carrying his bag with him. Now he knew that he could make objects intangible along with himself. But where would he go? Then, he remembered an old folk tale that his parents told him.

Amity Forest, a place where once someone goes in, they are never seen again. Monsters were said to eat those inside, or that the trees came alive and feasted on your flesh. Jazz had told him that those stories were just that-stories, used to prevent kids from getting lost in there. She was always a sceptic, but there was definitely a chance the stories could’ve been true. So that’s where he’ll go. It was nearby, so it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. With that in mind, he took off towards Amity Forest, clueless and hopeless as to what to do next.