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munsonson · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt.

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him.

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so.

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson.

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car.

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute.

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed.

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips.

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley.

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted.

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand.

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard.

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were.

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears.

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that?

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down.

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense.

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter.

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home.

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside.

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.”

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him.

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?”

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.”

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away.

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #jane hopper #eleven #max mayfield #jonathan byers #series

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mswyrr · 3 months ago

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They spent the entire season showing the collapse of everything Alicent had invested meaning in and earning her final choice.

Things that came apart over the season:

-her father's role in all this; his approval (and fear of his disapproval) has driven her for her entire life! (bad move on multiple fronts, Aegon)

-her belief that she could do what this patriarchy promises and "influence" her sons toward a good direction (Aegon dismisses her but Aemond really drove the nail in with flagrantly slaughtering smallfolk and making his intent to force his sister to do it too clear)

-her belief that she had any allies and her skills in leadership and her track record of hard work actually meant anything to *anyone* (this was a cooperative effort by Aemond, Larys, and Criston - good work, fellas!)

-her belief that she could, if nothing else, at least protect her daughter (huge emotional pillar for her)

And if we look at her prior actions putting Aegon on the throne and protecting him with her life - both fit within those structures she had mentally and emotionally which this season ripped down.

I think the final one was the thing that took it over the edge, though -- the prospect of Helaena being used and hurt and destroyed as a person -- kind of like how degrading Aemond and his connection to his long-term sex worker was his final straw that made him want to kill and supplant his brother Aegon.

People keep pushing each other too far this season. Taking out the last thing that stands between them and a radical change. Pushing people until they're willing to lose things just to break the current dynamic.

Dae/mon pushes Rhaenyra too far, then the entire war does and she "breaks bad" in 2x07 (see my meta linked below for more on my pov on that); Aegon pushes Aemond too far; and the entire group of "green men" systematically pushes Alicent too far.

All the while, she had that offer from earlier in the season, when Rhaenyra risked everything to come speak to Alicent in her mind. She was mulling over it and thinking of what she could have said, should have said. At the same time, however, Rhaenyra was moving away from being that person [my meta argument on that here]. So the person she finally comes to make peace with isn't the same as she was in the Sept. And once again they tragically can't get on the same page. It does all fit together, even with issues in the writing.

And writing on Alicent's arc simply isn't as uneven as people are saying - the theme of people pushing each other too far and how they showed the pillars of Alicent's support crumbling were both clearly done.

And, yes - Alicent still has feelings for Rhaenyra and as all of this has been happening she's been having a midlife crisis and wishing she had just run away with her first love when they were girls. But that isn't her sole motivation!! It's just what comes spilling out of her because of the state she's in. It creates an appealing alternative to the hell she's living in at the Red Keep. But it wasn't THE single motivating factor.

On a show where fathers have behaved truly monstrously--up to and including their selfishness setting this civil war in motion to begin with--it's fascinating that people refuse to believe a mother can be pushed too far. That kinslaying and slaughtering whole cities and rejecting and humiliating her and threatening to mentally torture her daughter until she breaks wouldn't change her mind about her priorities.

The "green" side becomes owned by Aemond, a wilful (as far as she knows; I'm speaking of her pov here) kinslayer moral reprobate who is violent to his sister and wants to force her to do things that will break her mind. Alicent cannot expect that Aegon will be able to stop him. That's what the side is now, as far as she knows. And she thinks he's a monster who must be stopped, at any cost. That's why she told Rhaenyra "we both know what he is" about Aemond in the Sept. WHAT not who. Things like kinslaying and slaughtering smallfolk mean something to her. And her daughter is everything to her.

Team Green overall took her for granted and thought she'd always be their doormat, and Helaena too. And Alicent finally had enough. Again, given how monstrously the fathers on this show behave, I think they "showed their work" on her radical change of heart well. It's just some people believe nothing can ever justify a mother betraying her sons and I think that makes total sense, given everything.

Honestly, once Helaena was on the chopping block, it would have been out of character for Alicent *not* to do everything--destroy anything--to protect her daughter. She feels like protecting Helaena is the only good thing she's ever done in her life.

People can dislike the ending. It's always valid to dislike something in a story, it's fine. But disliking it doesn't mean it wasn't built up solidly, narratively speaking. The writers put a lot of work and narrative space into it, actually--this was one of the most developed parts of s2!--and weaving it into the season's larger theme of characters pushing each other to the breaking point.

#alicent hightower #hotd meta #house of the dragon #rhaenicent

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crappymixtape · 6 months ago

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because of you • part four

PART I • PART II • PART III • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 5.6k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T F O U R 🎶 the elevator, lizzy mcalpine

“Alright. We’re gonna take care of things at the Creel house and your job is take care of things here,” Steve leveled with Eddie, thinking he was out of earshot for everyone else, but you heard it. Knew what he really meant.

Take care of things.

Fight monsters.

Try not to die.

You’d dropped Lucas, Max and Erica off, drove halfway across town to Eddie’s, dumped all your weapons through the gaping hole in the ceiling and threw yourselves in after them. Had outfitted the exterior of the trailer with metal fencing and cages, ladders and locks, hoping – no – praying it would hold and begged the universe to let everyone come out the other side of this.

“Robs, you and Nance are with me.”

Steve pulled taut the belt around his waist and clicked his flashlight on, looking for once like he actually knew what he was doing, and for a split second you thought maybe this just might work. Thought if Steve was that confident, if Nancy was willing to go with him, then maybe it would be alright.

But then it came time for you all to split in half again and you walked with Steve and Nancy and Robin to the front door and out into the ash choked air. Half-hid behind Eddie as they double checked their gear and started to walk away, but Steve stopped at the last second and turned back around.

“Listen. If things here start to go south, I mean at all, you abort. Okay?” he said brows tugged together with conviction, the weight of his words causing you to start trembling. “You draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two, and we’ll take care of Vecna.”

And as you looked at the axe slung over Steve’s shoulder, the shotgun held tight in Nancy’s grasp, heard your molotov cocktails clinking together in Robin’s backpack you realized you didn’t want them to leave because what if they didn’t come back?

“And don’t try to be cute or–or be a hero or something. You’re just–”

“Decoys. Don’t worry. You can be the hero, Steve,” Dustin said rolling his eyes, unable even now to let go of the consistent needling that happened between him and Steve, but you could read between the lines.

I care about you.

Don’t get hurt.

Please be safe.

“Absolutely. Agreed. I mean look at us…we are not heroes,” Eddie admitted shaking his head, his nail covered garbage can lid swung over his shoulder and hair tied back out of his face. Trying so hard to just do his part in all this and after Steve nodded his acknowledgement, he looked at you.

Held your gaze for a minute. Parted his lips with words held heavy on his tongue, but unsure if he should say them. Knowing if he set them free, they would make the stakes unbearable and instead gave you a small nod.

A slight smile.

An attempt at quiet reassurance and as he turned to leave you felt a tangled knot of worry start to swirl at the pit of your stomach and the further he walked away the more knotted it became. Snatched up with it regret, possibility, second and third chances and trying to start over until the sound of someone’s voice shouting into the dark broke your concentration.

Your voice.

“Steve! Wait!”

He had never turned around so quickly, the sound of your voice stopping him dead in his tracks and he waited. For you. Waited as your boots crunched in the dead sticks and leaves on the ground, cracking and snapping with each step until you reached him, breathless and unsure of what you wanted to say but insistent on saying something.

“Everything okay?” he asked, trying to be casual. Unattached. Felt Robin and Nancy’s eyes on you both, but shot them a look and they gave you some space.

“Yeah–I mean, no? I just–we’re about to get swarmed by bats from hell and I...well, I guess what I wanted to say is–” you tripped over your words, felt clumsy and stupid, but desperate. Wanted him to know you wanted to work on things. Wanted to give him another chance, but it just wouldn’t come out and his expression softened as he realized what you were getting at.

“Slow down,” he murmured and you drew in a breath.

In.

Out.

Try again.

“I just want you to know that...I wanna try,” you said, still a bit clumsy, one word falling out after the other. “I wanna work on–on forgiveness or…shit. I don’t know,” you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would help you gather up your thoughts and Steve waited. Patient. “Just come back, okay?” you finally asked, opening your eyes to see his mouth tugged up at the corner in a lopsided smile.

“You want me to come back, Princess?” he asked wryly and you scowled.

“I’m gonna let that one go cos ‘end of the world’ and whatever,” you snarked and it made him laugh. A low rumble in his chest that filled you up to the brim and spilled over at the edges.

“Gee thanks.”

“Yeah, you owe me now,” you teased.

“Alright, deal. Promise I’ll get you back when this is all over.”

When this is all over.

“I’m gonna hold you to it,” you said, your voice wobbling a little despite your efforts to keep it even and the sound put an ache in Steve’s chest. Pulled his hand to your cheek. His fingers gently tucking your unruly curls behind your ear.

“Wouldn’t expect any less,” he said quietly, only to you, and then took a couple steps back. Put space between you quickly to try and make it easier, but it stung. The sudden realization that your want for reconciliation was mutual and having to watch it walk away with the possibility of not returning.

The possibility of death.

“Good luck,” you whispered, your throat closing around the sob that had lodged itself in your chest, and watched as Steve disappeared into the dark.

❝ JUST ANOTHER TIME THAT I GO DOWN, BUT YOU ARE KEEPING UP, HOLDING TO A HOPE YOU’LL UNDERMINE ❞

“Eddie, Eddie! It’s working!” Dustin yelled after Eddie helped you back into the trailer.

“Shit–” Eddie handed you his nail covered garbage can lid and grabbed hold of your shoulder. “Listen to me. You leave this trailer no matter what, you hear me? Doesn’t matter if I’m yelling at you for help or–or covered in these fucking bats, you leave.“

“Wha–”

“No. It’s not a discussion.”

“Eddie, I’m not leaving–”

“Yes. You are, sweetheart.”

The ache in your chest swelled unbearably, painfully, tight and squeezing around the possibility that your best friend might not come back through that gate with you and the tears came. Hot against your cheeks as they cut paths down to your jawline.

Swiping his thumb gently across the line of your lashes Eddie gave you a sad smile.

“It’s not the plan, honey, but just in case. Now take this and get inside.”

All you could do was shake your head as Eddie popped back out of the trailer, shouting at Dustin to hurry the hell up, and as you walked back to the angry, gaping hole in the ceiling you could hear scratching on the roof.

“Eddie!” you yelled through your tears.

“I know, I know!” he called back.

“Eddie, they’re on the–”

“The roof! I know! Dammit, Henderson, get the hell in here!” yanking the younger boy into the trailer, Eddie slammed the front door shut and barricaded you in. “Fuck!” he shouted into the door, “I hope this works.”

“It’ll work, it has to work,” Dustin muttered, eyes glued to the air vent above you.

“It has to,” you echoed, quieter and under your breath as an image of Steve wielding his axe in front of Vecna flashed in your mind.

The squeals and shrieks in the air vent were getting louder and louder, scratching closer and closer and the ache in your chest twisted into something uglier, dread, fear.

“Eddie…” Dustin looked over his shoulder, “Eddie can they get through that?”

“Uh–I don’t think so–”

SCREEEEEEECH!

The vent burst open as a demobat clawed it’s way through the plastic cover, it’s long, sharp talons cutting deep gashes in the ceiling.

“FUCK! FUCK!”

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!”

Eddie and Dustin were on it before it could get all the way in, jamming their spears into the hole, Die, die, die!! until Eddie slammed one of the garbage can lids over the top of it and sealed it shut, heaving holy shit, holy shit from his lungs.

“Nice,” Dustin gasped from the floor.

“Thanks.”

You didn’t realize you were watching everything through your fingers, face buried in your hands, until Eddie glanced up and saw you.

“Oh, god. You okay? You’re okay. It’s okay,” he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay, they can’t get in now. It’s okay.”

“Eddie…” Dustin was still on the floor, eyes looking down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom. “Are there any more vents?”

Eddie tensed against you and froze for a second and then let you go in an instant, “Oh shit.”

“What? Eddie, what??” you shouted as he turned and ran down the hallway, Dustin on his heels, both of them just yelling shit so much now that it didn’t even sound like a word anymore.

“There’s a vent in my roo–”

As Eddie yanked open the door to his room the hissing slap of wings against wood paneling almost drowned out the shrieks that followed.

“That’s not gonna hold!” Dustin screamed.

Eddie shoved you back down the hallway, “Let’s go, let’s go!”

“But the others–”

“We don’t have time!” Eddie shoved at you and Dustin, the younger boy already halfway up the knotted bedsheet hanging out of the ceiling as Eddie snatched up the spare garbage can lid.

“C’mon!” Dustin yelled from the other side.

Grabbing Eddie by the jacket you shook him, “They need more time!”

He met your gaze and sobered, chest heaving as he gasped for air and realized what you were implying.

“They need more time,” you said again, quieter, throat tight around your words as Eddie looked up at Dustin through the gate.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered harshly, squeezing his eyes shut against he knew you needed to do. “Dammit, I’m sorry,” he said looking back up at Dustin.

“What? What d’you mean sorry?? Eddie what d’you mean sorry?? What are you doing? What are you–”

Grabbing a spear, Eddie sliced the bedsheet in half and you watched as the other end fell to the floor in a pile at your feet.

That was going to make getting back just a tad more difficult.

“EDDIE! EDDIE, NO! STOP!” Dustin was screaming now, strained and painful and you couldn’t bear to look at him.

“C’mon,” Eddie grabbed your arm and pulled you with him back to the door.

Steve’s bat was heavy in your hands, your fingers readjusting their grip in anticipation of putting your training session back at the meadow to good use.

…wide stance right?…choke up on your hold…it’ll make your swings hit harder…follow through with your hip.

Sucking in a breath you could hear Dustin still screaming at you from the other side.

“Come back!! Don’t do this! Please, don’t do this!”

And your body went numb as Eddie put a hand on the doorknob, “This is for Stevie. For Nance. For Robin and Max and everyone. And we come back alive, okay?” Eddie said to you, brown eyes soft like brown sugar, crinkled at the edges as he tried to smile and you tried to give him one back.

“Okay. Together,” you said.

“Together,” he echoed and then yanked the door open to a swarm of bats from hell all screeching and clamoring to get their hooks into you.

The bat in your hands hit hard against the body of the demobat flying above you with a sickening crunch. Caught it mid-air as you swung it down into the ground and twisted it, shouldered down and killed it with another pop! but you were far from finished.

Pushing loose hair out of your eyes you glanced up to see Eddie wrestling with his own hoard of nasties that the Upside Down had coughed up.

THWACK!

You swung again in a half circle, taking two demobats down with one swing and a grin flickered at the corners of your lips. Steve would be proud.

“Just a little longer, sweetheart!” Eddie shouted over the slap of desiccated wings and sharp, gnashing teeth.

A little longer, you told yourself, swinging the bat again and again, Eddie keeping up with his spear and shield.

Pulling back, you swung heavy at a particularly nasty looking demobat, a sneer on your lips doing as Steve instructed and following with your hips, but it didn’t connect and you stumbled forward, scraping your hands on the ground.

Fuck, was your immediate first thought, your bat clattering a few feet away with the impact, and again, fuck, when claws sliced through the heavy canvas of your tactical vest and into your back.

The cuts burned, hot and angry, the fabric against your back growing damp with blood, but you couldn’t stop. You had to get Steve’s bat. It was just out of reach as you scrambled against the dirt, fingers fumbling on the handle until something slipped through your hair at the back of your neck. Gritty like sandpaper, slithering as it crept around your throat and wrapping around and around and your eyes grew wide when it squeezed.

“Eddie!” you croaked, hands scrambling against the demobat tail tightening at your neck, cutting off your air supply.

“Wha–shit! Hang on, sweetheart! Hang on!”

The look on Eddie’s face scared you, like maybe you were going to die and god you didn’t want to die, and then the demobat yanked at you and everything went sideways as you hit the dirt, back first. The cuts there screamed and your head thunked hard enough against the ground you saw stars. Then, as if to add insult to injury, the demobat tightened its hold so that now and truly you could not breathe.

Your fingers scrambled against the flesh of the monster, struggling to loosen its grip, but it felt impossible. It was too tight.

Little pinpricks of light appeared against your vision as you watched red cracks of lighting split the sky in two. You couldn’t remember what it was like to take a breath. How long had it been? Thirty seconds? A minute? Longer? Where was Eddie?

A fuzzy feeling crept around you, warm and wrapping around your body as a shadowy haze blurred in at the edges of your vision. Closing in further and further and melting your pain along with it. You couldn’t feel the scrapes across your back, the cuts on your knees, the burning in your throat.

Were you going to die?

But what about Steve? You promised. He promised.

I’ll get you back when this is all over.

You needed to tell him how much you wanted to try. Wanted to hear him out. Wanted to see the real Steve, the one Eddie trusted so much, the one you were starting to feel like might actually prove you wrong, but you weren’t breathing. Hadn’t been breathing and you were dying and–

“God dammit–die, asshole!”

Suddenly the tail loosened at your neck and your body heaved you from the ground, writhing at the ability to breathe again. Gasping and gulping and pulling in ash-thick air, your hands pressed to your throat to make double damn sure it was really gone.

“Christ–” A hand, wide and warm was at the small of your back and the voice in your ear made you feel like you couldn’t breathe again.

Steve.

“Told you I’d come back, princess. You alright?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn’t go away and your fingers smoothed over the angry, swollen skin.

“Look, twins,” Steve tried to joke, tugging his shirt down so you could see the same marks on his neck and it pulled a hoarse laugh from your lips, but it hurt. “*Shit–*I’m sorry, don’t talk. C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

You wanted to stop for a second and look at him, the moles dotted on his cheek and neck, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the cut on his cheek and wipe the dirt from his forehead and just–

“We gotta go!” Robin yelled from the trailer and Steve scooped his hands under your arms and pulled you to your feet.

Nancy was with Robin back over at the trailer door yelling something about not jumping through gates like that anymore – Dustin? But didn’t he…and then your stomach lurched.

“Eddie?” you croaked, fingers digging into Steve’s waist, “Where’s Eddie?”

“Shh, don’t talk. He’s okay, he’s already in the trailer.”

“Where–”

Steve stopped for a split second and looked down at you, brows pinched together, his eyes dark, worried, “I’ll explain everything, but we need to leave.”

You nodded and he picked up the pace again dragging you both into the trailer and, as Robin says, by some miracle you all piled through and came out the other side.

❝ I FEEL IT COMING ON, YOU CAN BE WELL AWARE, IF I EVER TRY TO PUSH AWAY YOU CAN JUST KEEP ME ❞

When you all stumbled out of Eddie’s trailer into Hawkins it felt like nothing had changed – it still looked like the Upside Down.

Ash fell from the sky, dark clouds hung heavy overhead and smoke rolled up from downtown as you struggled to process what had happened. They’d killed Vecna, or at least blasted his ass out the window and onto the ground below, but when they went to check he was gone and that was when the clock chimed. Four chimes, four deaths.

Everyone was worried about Max, but everyone was also in various states of injury, so you all decided to split up. Nancy and Robin took Lucas, Max and Dustin to the hospital and after you’d suffocated Eddie with hugs he said he wanted to hang back and look for Wayne. Part of you wanted him to stay, but Wayne was the only family he had so you understood. With Vecna ‘gone’ there were no real pressing threats – for now.

So, all that was left was you and Steve.

“Let me give you a ride?” he asked, dirt flecked across his cheeks and forehead, bottom lip split.

“I can’t go home like this,” your voice had made a return, but it was hoarse, sounded rough like gravel and every time you spoke Steve winced.

“Oh, right. Okay, yeah–uh–we can go to my place. My parents are out of town on business, so no one’s there. Get cleaned up and then I can take you home.”

Piling into Steve’s BMW you could feel the adrenaline starting to melt away. The pain that your body had held at bay starting to push against your skin, your very bones, a deep ache that threatened to break you and you fought it as hard as you could.

“Thank you,” you half-whispered into the quiet of the car and Steve’s fingers twitched on the gear shift.

“For…?”

You looked across the center console at him, “For saving me.”

That pulled his attention and he met your gaze and for a split second everything felt suspended, held in mid-air, floating in the space between you and Steve’s lips parted. Trying to find the words.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly, still looking at you, then he flicked his eyes back to the road. “I know you said I owe you, but…I really do. I–I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we left the trailer. How fucked up everything was and how I didn’t get to say everything I wanted.”

You watched his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way it ticked when he clenched his teeth and fought back the lump in his throat.

“I owe you a lot more. A lot more.”

“Steve–”

“No, I mean it,” throwing the BMW into park he turned to look at you again. "You've made me feel...so many things I didn't think were possible anymore and–god–I thought about losing you and I just..."

"I did too," you admitted to the dark and it pulled his gaze.

"You did?"

"Yeah, Steve. I think I–ouch," a sharp pain punched in you leg and you doubled over from the force of it.

“Wait. Are you hurt?”

You sucked in a breath and tried to sit back up, tried to play it off. "Yeah, I mean, aren’t we all?”

“No...your back," Steve ghosted a hand over the back of your vest and pulled his hand away damp with blood.

“I–the demobat–” stuttering over your words Steve didn’t let you finish and stumbled out of the car and around to your side to get you into the the house.

The Harrington’s place was out of a stupid catalogue. All the art, the vases, the plants and furniture – it all looked staged, not lived in. If you hadn’t felt like you wanted to throw up you would’ve lingered a bit longer in the entry, but Steve was pulling you up the stairs and you were too weak to fight it.

“Shower’s in here,” he said, opening the door to his parent’s room.

Exquisite sky lights cut large rectangles into the ceiling and washed the room in the dim, cool light of the moon above. A clearing in the smoke. Somehow his house hadn’t been swallowed up by the gashes in the earth. A large sleigh bed sat against the wall, a large painting of a garden hanging above it and two matching nightstands with lamps perched on either side. Nice, but cold. Not lived in.

Too busy looking around, Steve came back out of the master bath and called your name, but when you didn’t look he took the few steps to stand right in front of you.

Warm. Safe. Steve.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sorry, uh–yeah, I'm okay.”

He looked at you, skeptical, but needed to gather more supplies and so didn’t push you on it.

“Alright, princess. I got the shower going in there, but don’t move too quick. Take it slow, one step at a time and I’ll be back with a towel and some bandaids.”

“Okay–”

“Seriously,” he said, “I mean it. Slow.”

“I will,” you insisted, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips and he gave you a little grin.

“Okay. Be right back.”

Even if he hadn’t asked you, you couldn’t go faster than one foot in front of the other. The pain was almost unbearable now, screaming all over your body and you didn’t know if you could handle a shower, but it wasn’t an option. Infection would finish off what the demobats couldn’t, and so, layer by layer, you pulled your clothes from your body.

Your jeans, your vest, your shirt, your socks, your shoes. All of it a muddied brown and red pile on the floor leaving you in your bra and underwear. Your back was burning, felt like fire and when you stepped into the shower expecting more pain, you found peace.

Carefully shuffling on the tile floor, the steam billowing up from the shower floor felt like it was swallowing you whole. Filled the air around you and made everything hazy. Made it feel otherworldly, like heaven, and as you stared you watched the water falling down your body turn rusty. Mixing with the dirt and ash and blood from your skin and carrying it down the drain. Washing away any remaining proof that interdimensional monsters are real and that you’d nearly died killing them. The only things left hinting at what had been life or death, would be all the little silvery scars after your wounds healed.

You turned the heat up and as more steam clouded the stall, you felt a warmth wrap itself around you. One that felt deeper than the hot water. Like a heavy cloak draping over you and you wanted to let it swallow you whole. Wanted to nestle into it and succumb to the deep, soft feeling it was pouring into you and your vision started to blur at the edges.

“Oh–” you half-gasped. Stumbled as the world swam in front of you. Pressed a hand heavy against the wall to steady yourself and your fingers slipped against the tile.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Suddenly someone was opening the shower, sucking out the steam, and a shock of cold air hit you as Steve filled the door frame.

“Shit, hang on–” he swore softly and stepped in with you still wearing his jeans and ripped up shirt. Water soaking him from head to toe, he gently looped an arm around your waist and held you steady. “I got you, I got you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, and it pulled your gaze up.

Water clinging to your lashes, your lids were heavy as you blinked and when he finally came into focus it made your heart ache. A deep pinch between his brows, eyes searching yours and trying to work out what he needed to do to fix you. What he needed to do to keep you here.

God, he wanted to keep you.

“I’m fine,” you insisted weakly, pushing against him as your lips tried to twist into a scowl and it pulled a huff of a laugh from him.

“No, you’re not,” his tone was firm, but gentle. The rough pads of his fingers pressing into your side as he eased you onto the seat at the corner of the stall. Made doubly sure you weren’t going to fall and half-stepped back out onto the bathmat.

Shrugging off his shirt, he pulled it over his head and tossed it into the tub. Kicked off his wet Levis and left them in a pile on the floor. Grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack and stepped back in with you and closed the door behind him.

Kneeling, Steve sank down through the steam, putting himself at your height for once. Water running hot and soothing both of your aching bodies as he wetted the wash cloth. Then, pushing up on one knee, he started to gently scrub the dried blood from your forehead. Rinsed the cloth out and moved to your hand. Looked it over for any obvious wounds and softly cleaned the dirt from your palm. Then, satisfied with what he found under all the grime, he turned to your other hand. Moved up your arms and paid close attention to the cut on your right shoulder. Winced and snuck a glance at you when you sucked in a pained gasp through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” he said and when he looked up at you it was a thousand sorry’s, so fucking sorry, and it made your chest ache. “Let me look at your back,” he said, standing to see the three nasty cuts across your skin there and he huffed a sigh. “These could be worse,” he assessed, shaking his head, “I’ll look in the light when you’re out.”

He bent back down and knelt in front of you again, water splashing against his back as he took your hand in his. He started up again at your feet. Skipped over the bruises on your shins and the angry-looking scrape on your left knee and as he gently shifted you to reach your upper leg, the water running off your body turned bright red.

“Oh shit..." he breathed, a deep frown pulling at his features as his eyes frantically searched for the source, worry tugging at the pit of his stomach. It couldn’t have been your back…where was it coming from?

And then he finally saw it. The nasty gash on your thigh courtesy of the same damn demobat as it dragged its claw down through your skin. “Christ,” he hissed under his breath, moving to let the water run over it, “We gotta clean this–”

“Fuck, Steve–” you choked out, the pain in your leg white hot as you pressed a hand heavy into his before he could use the washcloth. “It hurts,” you half-sobbed and he quickly blocked the shower with his back again.

“Shit–I’m sorry–dammit–” a string of curses fell from his lips as he leaned closer to get a better look.

The few seconds of water had done a good job of cleaning it up, but he could see now how deep it was. Probably needed stitches, just like his stomach would, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.

It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be okay.

Pulling in a deep breath he went to the place in his mind he knew all too well. The one where he closed out the sick feeling of worry blooming in his chest, the thoughts of 'what if' that didn't end nicely and hardened against it all so that he could do what he needed to keep you safe.

“Alright, princess,” he reached over his shoulder and turned off the tap, then looked back up at you, still on his knees. “I gotta get you out and dried off, okay? Get this fixed up,” he said, nodding at your leg, “Will you let me do that?”

A soft scowl pulled at your features and it almost made him smile – how pretty you were even when you were mad. Even like this.

“I don’t think you’re gonna give me a choice,” you tried to snark around the sob in your throat and that finally cracked a tiny grin on his face.

“I’m not,” he gently agreed and with that you let him lift you from the seat. Let his hands, warm and wide at your waist, guide you from the shower and wrap a towel around your tired body.

Setting you at the edge of the sleigh bed, Steve dug around in the box of medical supplies he’d slowly put together during his time with the Upside Down. Bandages, rubbing alcohol, peroxide, antibiotic ointment, wraps, gauze–

“Steve,” you whispered and it pulled his gaze.

“What is it? Are you okay? Are you dizzy?”

You gave him a weak smile, “I promise I’m fine.” He nodded, not wholly believing you. “What is that for?” you asked, pointing at a needle and thread and his expression shifted.

“For cuts,” was all he could manage and it made your stomach lurch.

“Like mine?”

He chewed on his lower lip, fingers twisting the thread dipping through the eye of the needle. “Like yours,” he agreed quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut.

No. No, no, no. Not here. Not Steve.

“Hey, hey,” Steve pressed his hand into yours, warm and safe, “I promise it’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ve got my own shit I need to do too.” He moved his arm aside to show you the cut along his stomach from the lake gate. “See? Right?”

You were crying, but it was too quiet to really know and when Steve saw your tears silently slipping down your cheek he caught them with the pad of his thumb.

“I know how scary this is,” he finally said, voice a low vibration you could feel in your chest, reassuring and true, “But I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I swear.”

And the way he was looking at you was something you’d never seen from him before. Features pulled in pain, agony, but not from his wounds. Searching for something in your eyes he wasn’t sure of, but knew he’d find if he looked long enough and you lifted your hand to his over your cheek.

“Okay,” came out cracked, wobbly, crying, and he gave you the tiniest smile.

You watched as he pulled through a new line of thread, knotted the end and dipped the needle in rubbing alcohol and a wave of nausea crashed over you.

“Here,” Steve caught the look on your face, the way you were shaking, “Lie on your back and hold this to your face. Scream into it if you have to, okay? I’m going to go as fast as I can.”

He handed you a pillow and thank god because you were sure if you’d had to watch, you were going to pass out.

Doing as he asked, you laid back on the bed with the pillow pressed to your face, still only wearing your underwear and bra, and a thought struck you – if this had been literally any other time, what would Steve had said? Would he tell you how beautiful you looked? How he liked the lace trim across your bra straps? How he wanted to trace his finger along the hem of your panties? How–

“Oh, fuck–” slipped out of your mouth, muffled against the pillow, but you didn’t get a chance to finish because everything went black.

“Hey, hey! Oh, shit. Dammit. Princess? Are you with me?” Steve had just finished the first stitch when you suddenly went limp on the bed.

Quickly leaning up he put his ear to your chest for a heartbeat and heard a steady thum, thum, thum. Happy with that he sat back up and took even more solace in the even breaths falling from your lips.

“Sorry,” he whispered to you, “I didn’t do well with it the first time either.”

Then, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead he finished stitching up your leg. Cleaned up your back and applied a few bandages there where needed. It’d looked worse than it actually was, thank god. He pulled back the covers and lifted you up to the head of the bed and tucked you in, checking your breathing again to make damn sure.

He made quick work of stitching up his stomach. Pausing only a couple of times to swallow down his own nausea, and when he was done, he changed into a Hawkins Athletics shirt and shorts and crawled in next to you.

Despite the world on fire outside his window and despite the fact they couldn't find a body for Vecna, it was all okay for right now. In that moment. With you there in that room, hidden in the indigo shadows as he clicked off the light, promising he'd finish saying what he'd started in the car. And soon enough exhaustion claimed Steve too, pulling him into the same deep, dreamless sleep that you'd thankfully found.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART FOUR OF A FIVE – POSSIBLY MORE – PART SERIES, PART FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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worldsewage · 10 months ago

Note

what's the home run au?? pretty please infodump!! /genpos /nf

The HOMERUN au is what I want to call a Salmonid and Inkling swap au, but eventually became so convoluted it’s now it’s own separate thing.

I’m glad this ask exists because I will be using it as a pseudo pinned… until I get that… figured out… ⛩️ thank you! I’ll be splitting the main ideas into parts, (and chances are any unanswered questions will be answered later! I want to explore this au in little lore tidbits, so please be patient with me! But don’t be afraid to ask!)

Idol / Agent lore will be explained in mini comics and posts… :] but as for what the Homerun au actually is…?

I’ll explain everything under the cut!

THE GREAT TURF WAR:

During the Great Turf War— inklings and octolings were at a horrible stand still, resources and morale is low due to the two warring species exhausting themselves. The waterline rises high (WAY higher then canon) wiping out the lands they’re fighting for and reducing the habitable lands into waterlogged territories that are too dangerous and flood-prone for either species to survive… the war ended with Salmonids on the rise, dominating the lands, and nearly wiping out both species thanks to the ocean and the brute strength and resources they had.

Because of this inkling territory is very small— but still succeeded in claiming land, unlike the Octarian, which were forced to retreat to the wastelands— the wastelands are devoid of life, but worse, flooded and horribly weathered.

Relationships between the warring species goes as this: Politically, all of the species are enemies, but at this current state, have no real reasons to continue fighting.

Salmonoids are trying to “mend the relations between Cephalopods and Salmonids”— at least that’s what they’re saying. They make efforts such as propaganda pieces, but their biology(see “anatomy” column) Is far too different from cephalopods to properly live together. They mostly push this effort towards Inklings— half because they are the species that utterly despises them, and the other half as a power play. A few Salmonid Company’s that control the local politics have a few ideas they want to use to control inklings, but it’s no use if they’re not allies.

Octarians still see inklings as the species that drove them out, despite salmonids being the unlikely winner of the war, Inklings are the ones that claimed the only slightly habitable lands, so they are the adversary.

Octarians are still an ally to the salmonids, their industrial mega cities are often seen as “barbaric” or “frightening” to most species, but the Octarian see them as war-strong allies who they desperately need to learn off of. Octarian culture has vastly evolved to accommodate Salmonids— this has changed most Salmonid’s(within the public) understanding of inkling/octoling biology for the better. Having survived off their trade / resources, every Octarian issue becomes a Salmonid issue, and vice versa, these two groups are closely intertwined.

Inklings are enemies with the Salmonids, but due to their loss in the war they were forced to truce— Inklings are the only species that do salmon runs, so they see Salmons at their most aggressive, and in turn are taught to view them as monsters, despite the species affinity towards politics, business, and other relations they’ve made public— they only see them as language-less inkling-murdering monsters. Because of their hatred of salmonids— they yearn to rekindle the relationship with Octarians.

It’s a real “be my ally” love triangle. But truly, Octarians and Salmonids are BUDDIES!

THE MAP

Inklings are doing better, they still construct Inkopolis in this au. Inkopolis is prone to flooding, but it’s still plenty safer and operates much like it does in canon (with the same stores and such!). The city is now equipped with many functions that keep it’s citizens safe from flooding. Flooding is less common in the plaza as opposed to the outskirts of the city. Inkopolis is a staple location, proof of survival and glory, the place every kid said they wanted to move to when they got older.

The Octo-Canyon + Domes still exist here, but the surrounding area is nearly all water, so resources are scarce and its difficult for them to survive on their own. They thrive on trade, and what can only be described as “for-hire agent work” for salmonoids and other wasteland neighboring species. Their technology was forced to rapidly advance to accommodate for this.

The area right to Inkopolis, where Calimari County would lie, are sandy (sort of beach-swamp esque) farm lands. The towns are rural distant areas, perpetually flooded, sort of resembling low tidepools, it’s pretty gorgeous lands . They primarily farm seaweed here, as well as cultivating other sea animals and rice grain.

The area above New Inkadia— in the Wastelands— is similar, farm lands and small villages, but to note: more Salmonids are here, and the inklings here speak Salsegal (the language salmonids speak) and here Salmonids and Cephalopods engage in this reverse salmon run.

The Wasteland inklings cultivate and raise Zapfish, most are young and unable to power full cities, and so Cephalopods in this zone have (as a result of water damage affecting HOW they retain ink) developed a new type of ink that is able to act as an electrical current— these types of inklings/octolings are known as KRAKENS, and Salmonids occasionally enter these areas and capture this electric ink technology since it’s on their turf, and they can’t use their eggs out of respect, Zapfish are in low supply, and in turn, Inklings collect power eggs.

AC TOKYO is a city built on the idea of mending the relationships and creating a society where all species can thrive! And oddly enough, the city and decor is described as historic… due to all of the designs looking very… human. The reason for this is unknown. (Wink.) (DEEPSEA METRO rests underneath it.)

NEW INKADIA is where splatoon 3’s locations lie! Though under a different name, and a very different appearance, and ALTERNA is a secret project that has created an entirely new society that consists of both Cephalopods and Salmonids… at the expense of changing them.

Alterna is where DEEPCUT appear.

ANATOMY

How salmonids and inklings function is plenty different from canon

Inkling’s skin is incredibly paper-thin fragile, but extremely reliable, it is made up of trillions of individual parts that collapse into a thin membrane that essentially splits all of the insides into even tinier parts when coming into contact with a certain chemical signal that triggers the “transformation reaction”, allowing their skin to collapse into Ink Puddles, and as a result allowing it to reform into the Swim Form. So essentially, when Inklings are in the “puddle form”, they are a super thin nearly invisible sac carrying all of their super small broken apart organs, and reforming is just these broken apart cells very quickly attaching back together to either shape into Kid or Squid.

When a cephalopod gets “splatted”— all that’s happening is that there’s either too much stress, or too many injuries, or there’s a drastic shift in the amount of ink the subject is currently carrying, causing them to Self Destruct, as inklings are safer when the cells are broken apart, it’s harder to damage larger parts of the inkling IF they are broken into tiny parts that cant be broken apart any further.

“RESPAWNERS” aren’t actually “a place for the ghosts of inklings to land to revive”— this is a myth, and plenty easier to explain.

Respawners are attached onto the ground in inky turf grounds, and they cycle through ink at an extremely fast rate. Most turf battles have a very small layer of water or ink on the ground to allow respawner to filter ink— in doing this, the respawner are drinking in a shit tone of ink in order to suck up inkling puddles that carry near invisible flesh sacs thanks to Inkling’s weird skin membrane. And in the respawner, they’re refreshed with new ink and injected with a chemical that shakes them awake, quickly waking up a splatted inkling inside the respawner.

During Salmon Runs, the sight of Inklings who are missing limbs on the battlefield returning the next day to attend a shift with no visible injuries isn’t uncommon. As long as the cells still exist within the membrane, they can be rapidly rebuilt and regenerate.

But, despite all of this, Inkling skin is incredibly weak to water, this membrane that can carry collapsed organs, severed limbs, and gives the signal that allows inklings to transform— can melt and collapse and can permanently damage if coming into contact with too much water. Water against this skin-membrane is similar to water on a tissue, melting into it, and splatting the inkling— but because there is now a tear in the membrane— it affects how the inkling is able to heal, how quickly the inkling can recover, how much ink the inkling can now retain, or if it’s possible to transform after the injury. Membrane Water-Damage scars can vary, but they are all regarded as dangerous if left untreated too long. Since small holes can be treated and taught to heal over, but left in water, can cause these holes to grow too large for the membrane to function as intended.

In fact, even overly HUMID environments can wear on inkling skin overtime; which is a problem for cephalopods and salmonid relations.

Salmonids have gills, but are amphibious, and in the adult (not spawning, spawning Salmons have very different anatomy, I will go into salmonid life cycles below) stage of their growth, they require air to thrive. Hence, needing land, but because they have gills, they require humid environments or close by water in order to keep the gills moist. Or else they could dehydrate and suffocate.

TLDR: inklings+octolings need dry environments so they don’t die from overexposure to humidity/water, Salmonids need wet humid environments so they don’t suffocate to the lack of water.

SALMON RUNS, and the LIFE CYCLE:

During salmon runs, you collect eggs, and in the warehouse, fertile eggs are seperated from infertile eggs, and are shipped back to Salmonid cities.

In salmonid cities, the eggs are sorted, genetically tested, and are given a name— the reason why salmonids have such long names is because the eggs are named by the title of the clans of their origin, and the families then extend the titles via new names or traits.

Having children isn’t a decision that can be made on a whim, since it requires traveling to a salmon run grounds in a race to these lands that allow both parents to officially breed in what’s known as a “HOMERUN,” but unlike IRL salmon, the need to return home is NOT a requirement or a hormonal change, but rather a decision, and the transformation into spawning-forms is a result of the journey.

Most parents have hundreds of eggs, and hundreds of children, but most of the time— in salmonid culture, only those who are considered “high status” are selected to “bring glory to the clan name” and go on these homeruns, most common folk don’t.

Salmonids are in a way socially (a tad culturally) aromantic, in a way, since they don’t have any desire to find a special someone never sprung into existence, especially since relationships initially begin as a concept due to the act of having children, but to salmons, it is viewed as a business decision. So romance is nearly non existent. (Again, socially, not emotionally, but the concept is still very much foreign.)

All salmonids are orphans in some way or another due to the parents dying in the Homerun (it’s extremely rare for a parent to return, if they do, it’s most likely they won’t survive the transformation back into a non-spawning form— which is why those who do survive usually remain in homerun grounds.)

The offspring are given back to the clans of parents of the children, not as eggs, they leave them to develop and once they become “SMALL FRY” they are given to the families.

THE EGG- power eggs, power houses, even infertile eggs are still high wattage batteries.

ALEVINS- you will most likely never see these few, in the wild, they grow up in the water and feed off the power egg.

FRY- they begin to grow lungs and muscle, they start to come onto land and use their fins as hands, if only slightly. They still are stronger swimmers than they are walkers. This is the stage in which they begin to swim home, they aren’t very good learners due to this form expending all energy in strength in order to travel and survive.

AWKWARD TADPOLE PHASE! - their fins grow into hands, and they slowly learn to walk. You see this stage at around four or five years old. This is considered the most important time in thier lives, because as FRY, they were running on instinct more than anything, so this is the time when their brains truly start to develop. Their head fins sort of fray, splitting into a growing head fin and a dorsal fin.

SMOLT- The phase between Tadpole and Nearly fully fledged salmon, their hands begin to fully form, they have more canine teeth that begin to grow in as teenagers. Fingers are webbed! The dorsal fin grows in. Most teenagers are still a tad hunched, but otherwise have no issues standing upright.

MATURE SALMON- Dorsal fin is fully developed, and they stand without a hunch.

In order to have offspring, they HOMERUN, and doing this transforms them back into waterborne species to accommodate for the vast journey. Their arms turn into fins, this change is far too jarring and aggressive for the species to live long after this.

SALMON RUNS ONLY EXIST BECAUSE INKLINGS HAVE DISTURBED THE NATURAL PATH THAT SALMONIDS NEED TO TAKE IN ORDER TO HAVE OFFSPRING. They intend to enter the aggressive phase at the river, before reaching the end mid land, but because inklings occupy this land, they’re forced to remain in these aggressive stages.

The slaughter of the spawning season salmonids is not a part of the cycle that salmonids worship so thoroughly. But, Salmonids were designed to die during this phase, and they never grew to be revolted by this idea— but that is not the reason why.

A Grizzco partner company named SENSHINCORP. that specializes in Cephalopod/Salmonid Trade, Safety, and Relations has taken control of the public’s opinion of the neighboring species.

(it’s a persuasive warning shot that makes every species doubt the opinions they feel they should have. It’s the reason why new paths weren’t created for Homerun Salmonids, POWEREGGS are big buck business, and it’s best you don’t pry.)

Okay, final section:

GRIZZCO. (+SENSHINCORP.)

Grizzco functions the same, a company that thrives on exploiting desperate job hunting inklings, and exploiting a culture that relies on the glory of dying.

But, this time, Mr. Grizz remains in contact with Senshin Corp, a salmon operated company that thrives on the tension between salmonids and cephalopods.

Salmo-San owns Senshin Corp, he’s a friend. He only wishes the best.

#my art #homerun au #long post #splatoon #fido (oc)#first lucky buck of one thousand kingyotoyaki (oc)

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 10 months ago

Text

Drama abounds when you're attacked by monstrous bats after an argument with Eddie and Steve Harrington comes to your rescue...

Warnings: Complicated feelings, unrequited love, angst, mentions of blood.

❤️

This week had officially sucked.

Eddie was too busy following around his new girlfriend like a lovesick puppy to care what you were up to.

You wish it didn't bother you, but it did. All Eddie talked about was her and it drove you mad, jealously that began as small thing had grown and grown the last week or so. It was an awful feeling.

Shouldn't you be happy Eddie had found someone? Someone kind, pretty and who had so much in common with him. That's what a good friend should feel. Right now, this reaction made you feel guilty as hell.

"I don't know what your problem is. Why can't you just be happy that I'm happy! Maybe if you found someone yourself you wouldn't be like this?" Eddie had snapped at you earlier and the crushing feeling in your chest doubled.

It was dark now in Hawkins, Autumn was in full swing, the chilly wind nipping at you as you walked home.

Technically, you should be at Hellfire but after earlier you were in no mood tonight, you just wanted your bed and maybe a good binge of some of your favorite movies.

Anything that would help you forget about your feelings right now. Maybe scary movie, no romance whatsoever.

It was ironic you spoke about scary movies because the next minute you found yourself in one.

Hawkins was creepy after dark and you had heard enough tales from your relatives about the strange shit that went down here. At first you didn't believe it, Hawkins looked like any other picturesque small town... Well, until you looked closer and discovered the rot underneath the perfect facade.

Your friend Robin told you that spooky monsters roamed the woods, the rumours that freaky bat creatures hid in the shadows looking for prey. Not vampires, no actual bats that would rip you apart.

At first you thought it was some kind of old urban legend, that's until the bodies began the pile up and the legend grew and grew.

Now no one went into the woods, not even in groups. No one would risk it. Even walking past the woods to get home creeped you out, even if someone deep inside you were itching to know more about these bats.

Devil bats people called them. The side of you that was a big fan of mystery and investigating had researched as much as you could about these creatures but most of it was flimsy at best.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you miss the screeching sound the first time. The second time however chills you to the bone.

Screams fill the air, a man shouting for help and you freeze for a second before running to help. It's the stupidest thing you've done going straight into a frenzy of bats, but you can't just leave the guy to die.

When you reach the clearing into the woods you find your too late. The man is dead, blood seeping into the ground and bites on his neck.

Hawkins police station isn't far away. Maybe you could find Sheriff Hopper? You're about to run when you hear that screech again and one of the bats swoop down at you.

The tail is long and sharp and it lashes across your stomach before you can even move. Then the second bat is flying at you and you begin to run back out the forest and through the streets.

The bats are following you, four or them whipped up into a frenzy at the smell of your blood. They're smart to and dive down whipping their tails across your legs so you stumble and fall, your head smacks across the gravel on the road and dizziness makes your head spin.

You kick out at one of the bats and it hits the sucker right in the face, the other one uses its tail to wrap around your legs tightly, so hard that the sharpness of its tail cuts into you.

Two of them then work at ripping open your shirt and sinking their teeth into your side. The scream that leaves you is full of terror and pain, no fucking way are you dying now, theres still so much you want to do in life.

Wriggling around you try to throw one of the bats off you and it works but the second little bastard uses its wings and tiny, fierce claws to pierce into your skin to slow down your moments.

Just when it seems all hope is losr something slams into the bat and knocks it off you, you're so grateful for this and peer up to see Steve Harrington wielding a baseball bat covered in nails.

He slams it down on the bats head that has its tail wrapped around your leg and kills it instantly, freeing you. Dazed you stsnd up and Steve tosses you a crowbar.

"Take their heads off"

You don't have to be told twice and make quick work of the bats as more begin to fly your way. Pissed off, you swing the crowbar and tear off one of their tails.

Steve's hiss of pain captures your attention and you rush towards him and pull it away from Steve by its tail, Steve recovers and smashes the bat into its face.

His shirt is torn and you see a small trickle of blood seep through. The screeching stops as the last creature dies.

Tires squeal on the pavement and you hear your name being shouted. Eddie is running towards you, he looks as pale as a ghost when he reaches you and checks you for wounds.

"Eddie, what are you doing here?" Steve steadies you as you stumble. Eddie is still terribly pale as he answers.

"I heard you screaming, I was out looking for you because you didn't turn up at Hellfire and I felt like shit about earlier and then I heard you scream... I couldn't find you and I was terrified"

He's shaking as he takes in your appearance, his eyes wild.

"What the fuck were those things? Sweetheart?" you smile faintly, the adrenaline from fighting the bats wears off and you wince in pain and your head feels like it's spinning.

"I'm fine Ed's... I, woah" you faint and strong arms catch you before you fall.

❤️

When you come to you're at your house and resting on the sofa. Eddie is beside you looking extremely anxious.

"Thank fuck you're awake" his eyes are red and it looks like he's been crying, he won't admit it but you wonder if he was.

"You could have died... Those bats, shit if Steve hadn't found you when he did" His voice trails off and you gently squeeze his hand.

"I'm okay Ed's. Sore as shit but fine" he nods and kisses your cheek gently, then goes to help Steve with the bandages and antiseptic cream.

Gingerly you lift up your shirt and wince, it's soaked in blood which makes you feel nauseated. Eddie gently cleans the blood away as Steve cuts the bandages.

"Shit, these bastards got you good princess" he whispers worriedly. His nickname makes you ache.

"Don't call me that Ed's. Stacy, she doesn't like it" you whisper and he freezes.

"You're my best friend" he murmurs and the tension in the air deepens.

"Another thing she doesn't like Eddie. Maybe you're right and I should find someone. Would stop all this drama with Stacy" Eddie swallows and Steve steps forward.

"Munson, can you get more bandages incase these get bloodied up quickly" Eddie nods and hurries away.

The tension disappears, Steve gives you a sympathetic smile. Yeah, you were sick of the drama with all of this.

Steve gently patches you up and you feel yourself calm down for the first time tonight as you watch him work.

"Let me do yours, just take your shirt off and I'll help" he looks hesitant but nods and slips off his shirt.

You might have complicated feelings for Eddie but that didn't stop you from admiring Steve, he was handsome and now he was here in your house half naked. Georgia would have a field day if she knew about this.

When did he get so hairy? The thought pops into your head unbidden and it flusters you so much that you almost drop the antiseptic cream.

The bites draw you in again, a fresh one from tonight but also old ones. Bites that have left scars, marks from the bats tails that haven't faded.

You reach out to touch one gently, Steve watches you intently, there's a lot of tension in the air and the fact you could have died has you feeling rattled and in need of comfort.

Steve must be feeling the same thing as he dips his head down and his lips hover over yours.

He hesitates then his lips meet yours before he pulls away again. "Shit, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done that" he mutters.

"It's okay. It was nice and kinda freeing not to think of Eddie every five minutes" he softens and you patch up the rest of him.

"Tell me about it. Felt the exact same with Nancy, it's better now but I still haven't found the right girl I want to be with, who isn't after me for just sex" you peer up at Steve, eager to say something comforting.

"You're awesome Steve, a badass monster fighter to boot. You'll find someone amazing"

Steve smiles and kisses your cheek, lingering just for a moment.

"Thank you sweetheart"

The door slams shut and you jump apart as Eddie comes in. He looks between the two of you with a blank expression on his face, eyes trailing to Steve who is shirtless and then your flustered look.

"Am I interrupting something here or..." Steve barely looks flustered as he shrugs on his shirt.

"Thanks for helping me patch up honey, call me if you need anything okay?" he smiles and squeezes your hand.

He leaves and your filled with a rush of jumbled feelings.

❤️

Could be an Eddie or Steve story :) Your choice.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst

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katyswrites · 1 year ago

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 8 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f & m receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.2k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

Notes: I know, the Italian/descriptions of this area of Italy are not 100% accurate. Sue me! But seriously, I wasn't too focused on accuracy, so just take it as it is!

PART 8 | drinkin' on the beach (with you all over me)

“So, will you tell me where we’re going yet?” you asked slyly.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, fighting a smile. He extended the hand not carrying your suitcase, which you took as you descended the rest of the steps.

“I just don’t get why you’re not -”

You stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Steve was leading you towards.

“Is that -?”

Your question was answered as he popped the trunk of the red Ferrari, placing your suitcase inside.

“It’s mine. Well, ours, I guess. For the week.”

“You’re - you can’t just rent a car like this -”

“I can,” Steve said, slamming the trunk close. He smiled smugly, then shrugged. “I know a guy.”

You managed to pick your jaw up from where it was hanging and rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do,” you said, making your way to the passenger side. “So -”

“Hop in,” he said, opening the door for you. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You took his hand and let him help you in, Steve closing the door behind you and coming around until he was in the driver’s seat, right next to you.

“Wow,” you said under your breath.

“What is it?”

“I just - I realized I’ve never actually seen you drive before. Or, been in the front of a car with you, really.”

He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ready?”

You nodded, clicking on your seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb.

“So - what did you say to Robin to get her to agree to taking me away all week? She usually loves to go all-out for my birthday, as much as I tell her she doesn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at sweet talking.”

You thought about your roommate for a moment, and the idea of her being sweet-talked into anything, and snorted. “Cute, what did you actually do?”

A pause. Then, “I promised I’d pay for your belated birthday party. Whatever she has planned, I said I’d help make it happen.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand! Robin loves birthdays! And like, I don’t hate them, but I’ve just never been much of a big celebrator or anything, and she always goes nuts. And now you’re giving her a budget? You’ve created a monster, Harrington.”

He laughed, reaching down to take your hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.

“Well, I’m sorry. But, I’ll do my best to rein her in, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”

It’s only several minutes later, after you’ve both laughed it off, that you realized he was still holding your hand as he drove. Had he ever done something like that before? Before you could dwell on it, you pulled your hand away, hoping that reaching for the water bottle in the cupholder made it seem nonchalant.

You cleared your throat.

“So - can I know where we’re going yet?”

“You certainly can guess, if you want.”

You sighed, throwing your head back against the headrest.

“Okay - well, you said I didn’t need a passport, so we’re not flying anywhere. And, you said to pack bathing suits, so I’m guessing the beach, or pool, maybe. So, staycation? In Italy, somewhere?”

His face remained neutral. “Maybe.”

“You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, taking a moment to glance over at you.

“Just, trust me, yeah?”

After a moment, you sighed, giving up.

“Yeah, okay.”

As you drove out of the city, you turned the conversation towards his business trip. You asked him about work, how it went, and leaned back and listened. He mostly vented about it, but you paid it no mind - in reality, it was just nice to be with him again. You tried not to think about that part of it too much, though.

The highrises and busy city streets began quieting, giving way to residential townhouses and open roads. The traffic had lessened, the scenery becoming greener, the road narrower.

“So, how long until we get there?” you asked.

“About 4 hours, give or take,” he said. “It’ll be worth the road trip, I promise.”

“I don’t mind a road trip.”

Not with him, you didn’t.

You found yourself glancing over at Steve every now and then - he had only been gone a week, and you had forgotten just how unabashedly handsome he was in-person. As he stared straight ahead at the road, you took in his side profile, and the way his hazel eyes shone in the sunlight, his hands gripped firmly on the wheel.

Feeling your eyes on him, he spared a glance in your direction. Instead of looking away, you just felt yourself smiling, keeping eye contact.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing - it’s just… you really didn’t have to do… whatever this is. You spoil me, you know.”

His hand found itself on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s my favorite thing to do, baby.”

Baby. He had started calling you that more often now outside of the bedroom. You didn’t protest when he kept that hand there, for most of the drive.

Eventually, you found yourself dozing off, the steady motion of the car and low hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. You only found yourself waking when the car came to a halt, blinking groggily.

In front of you was a pier, boats bobbing in the water as cars lined up. The sea stretched out before you, bright blue in the late morning light.

“What are we -”

“We’re catching a ferry,” Steve said.

“So, an island vacation?”

He just shrugged, pulling the car up to the dock to load on. You sighed.

“You know, I barely had any idea what to pack. I just threw stuff into a bag.”

“Don’t worry about that - I brought another suitcase for you, bought you some stuff.”

“Of course you did.”

You still had the inner instinct to lecture him, to berate him for spending so much money on you. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he grinned, proud of being able to spoil you. If you asked him to bring you the stars, he’d probably find a way.

The ferry trip was about an hour long, Steve following you to the upper deck to stretch your legs. You leaned on the edge, looking down at the water below you, the wake of the boat making the bright blue water churn into white seafoam. The salt air blew through your hair, Steve’s arm finding its way around your waist.

Before too long, you found yourselves back in the car and driving off the ferry. You took a moment to assess your surroundings, blinking in the afternoon sun. The port was busy, green hills and rocky mountains stretching out before you in the distance, dotted with colorful buildings. The sea was sparkling, clear as day with an aquamarine hue. The harbor was bustling, boats of all sized docking at the port. People rode their bikes along the pier, the sounds of the water breaking along the coast a consistent din in the background.

“Okay, now can you tell me where we are?”

Steve laughed.

“Yes - It’s called Ischia Island. It’s kind of become a tourist trap recently, but don’t worry, we’re going to the other side of the island - it’s much quieter.”

“I don’t care about that -”

“I know, but - I guess it’d be nice to have some privacy, you know?”

So you let Steve continue to drive, bypassing the main port and heading up the small dirt road, slowly climbing the mountains. It was beautiful - from up here, the views of the coast were breathtaking. For the first time, you truly realized how much Steve wanted to make this special, pulling out all of the stops for you. In all of your time in Italy, you had never had the time or money to do anything touristy, let alone take an actual vacation. Suddenly, it was nearly overwhelming. You glanced over with Steve, taking him in for a moment. Then, the idea hit you.

“How far are we?”

“Close - probably like 15 minutes. I think you’re going to like where we’re staying.”

“Is this road busy?” you asked quietly.

“Here? No, not really. It’s pretty quiet, I kind of wanted it to be -”

“Okay, good,” you said, cutting him off. “Because you’re going to find a place to pull over.”

He glanced over at you, perplexed.

“Why? Are you feeling alright?”

You nodded, leaning across the console to press your lips to his ear.

“I want to thank you, Harrington. Preferably by sucking your cock.”

You were surprised he didn’t drive the car over the edge of the road and into the ocean.

*******

You and Steve didn’t reach your destination until about 45 minutes later, after you had your way with him. In the end, he was a mess, begging you to put him out of his misery after prolonged teasing from the passenger seat. Afterwards, you were shocked he was even capable of driving again.

Finally, though, you saw it - the place you were presumably staying. Steve pulled the car up a small dirt driveway, to where a beautiful villa was tucked at the top of a hill. Its white stucco exterior was striking against the rolling green mountains, stone steps leading up to it. Steve helped you out of the car, gesturing to the house behind him.

“Is this -”

“It’s all ours, baby,” he said, beaming.

“I - I just assumed we were staying at a hotel or something -”

He nearly scoffed. “A hotel? No way, not for this. It’s just us here, the whole place to ourselves.”

He popped the trunk, pulling out the bags, insisting to take yours, too.

You practically bounded up the steps, not even containing your excitement as Steve unlocked the door and waved you in.

Inside, it was bright and airy, the white walls stretching up to high, arched ceilings. There was an open kitchen and eating area, the floor a beautiful blue and white mosaic pattern. With the windows open and curtains pulled aside, the villa was bathed in sunlight. You found yourself going towards the back of the house, gasping at what you saw. Before you was a balcony, with a breakfast nook and, most notably, a pool. But, the most stunning part was the view. The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before you, sparkling and bluer than the sky, the city barely visible behind the trees. It smelled like salt and citrus, presumably from the trees abundant with fresh fruit. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said paradise.

You felt Steve coming up behind you, his presence strong and warm.

“Well - what do you think?”

You paused for a moment, turning around slowly to face him. He looked down at you expectantly, and you reckoned he’d probably be crossing his fingers right now if you couldn’t see them. For some reason, he still thought you were hard to impress.

“You did all this… just for me?”

He nodded.

Before he could even say anything else, you had his face in your hands, kissing him so fiercely that you could barely breathe. He pulled you closer, fingers digging into the small of your back. It was only when you pulled away to catch your breath that you spoke again.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

******

You hadn’t even taken time to explore the rest of the house, tumbling into bed with Steve without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of you took your time, too hasty to touch one another after being separated all week. Steve made quick work of your clothes, pulling you into his lap before sliding into you. You nearly cried at the feeling of him inside you again. Sex with Steve was like a drug, and you were finally able to admit to yourself that you were addicted. It wasn’t long before you were both messes, coming undone in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lips pressed to your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby - just like that, oh fuck -”

He was thrusting faster now, practically pounding up into you. You dug your nails into his back, dragging them down as you writhed in his arms, hips meeting his thrusts. Your finger picked up the pace on your clit, and you felt yourself losing control. You bounced in his lap, legs caging him as he pulled you closer.

“Oh, I - ah! Steve - oh, shit, just like that - you feel so good -”

“Yeah? You like when daddy stuffs you with his cock?” he grunted.

“Mm, yeah - I’m so full, I feel you everywhere -”

“Keep squeezin’ me, baby - shit, you’re really going for it, so wet - are you close?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moaning as you felt the tension building in your core.

“Yeah, so close - I’m gonna cum -”

“Damn right you are - such a good girl, always cumming on daddy’s cock.”

“Only for you,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him closer, arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. That was the final straw for Steve - he cried out your name, hips stilling as he painted your walls with his cum. You felt the warmth of him fill you, and you sighed. He stayed there, heavily for a moment.

“Fuck,” he said after a moment. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you ran your fingers along his scalp soothingly.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Did you finish?”

You considered lying - it was nearly instinctual, having done it with other partners in the past. But, there was something about Steve that made it impossible to lie to him.

“No,” you admitted. “But, I came close, really close - you always make me cum, it still was good -”

“Nope, not happening,” he said, brow setting with determination.

“What are you -”

But he was reaching down, thumb finding your clit where your bodies met, his softening cock still inside you.

“Steve, what are you - oh! Shit, I -”

You threw your head back, feeling yourself re-approaching your peak as he rubbed deep circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly picking up the pace.

“Steve - you’re still inside -”

“I know,” he whispered. “I want you to cum around me, can you do that, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his free hand found your breast. “I’m going to cum on your cock, because I’m your good girl -”

“And tomorrow,” he said, coating his fingers in the slick mix of both of you to stimulate your clit, “you’re going to cum over and over, until you can’t walk. I need to make up for it, gonna make you forget your own name, baby.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling yourself squeezing around him. “I’m gonna -”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Do it, for me, baby.”

And you did. You screamed his name, pulsing and convulsing around his cock as he continued to work you through it. He was still working on your clit, gradually slowing down as you let the wave of pleasure wash through you.

After, you both just stayed there, tangled in each other as you struggled to regain your breath. You felt his heart thudding against yours, bathing in the afterglow as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you,” you finally admitted. “I missed this.”

His hand stilled. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, if you had crossed a line. But, then:

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your skin.

You felt your face heat, and just pulled him closer to you, deciding not to say anything else, at risk of doing something you couldn’t come back from.

After a while, you found yourselves laying in bed in a comfortable silence. You could hear the crashing waves and cries of seagulls in the distance. You propped yourself up on your elbow, properly looking at the man beside you.

“So - now that we’re here - what’s the plan? For today?”

Steve stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

“Well, we really only have the afternoon now, so - I’ve got stuff for us to do over the next few days, so it’s really up to you. We can go into town, or hit the beach. Or, just hang out here - what do you think, birthday girl?”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not my birthday yet -”

“As far as I’m concerned, this entire week is your birthday, baby.”

You felt your heart flutter, and bit your lip.

“Well, if I get to decide - beach?”

He grinned, reaching across to brush some hair out of your face.

“Sounds perfect, baby.”

******

Steve had presented you with a new bathing suit and beach cover-up, practically demanding to see you in it immediately. And, you rarely found it in yourself to say no to him. When he first saw you wearing it, you were genuinely concerned he was going to immediately ruin it by tearing it off of your body. But, he managed to control himself enough to make it out the door, his hand snaking around your waist as you headed down to the beach.

The closest beach to you, as it turned out, was only a short walk down the road. And, it was a pretty quiet one. Steve explained on the way how it was a lesser-known alcove, only really used by locals and not well-known amongst the tourists. Sure enough, the white sandy beach was relatively sheltered on all sides by the rocky cliffs, making you feel both so in-the-open and hidden.

You sighed as you settled onto the beach towel, soaking in the sun as Steve set up an umbrella, eventually finding his place beside you. The afternoon was relaxed and quiet, Steve allowing you space to read your book and sunbathe. You tried to think about the last time you let yourself relax like this - it was possible that you never had.

Eventually, the water just looked too inviting, the sun becoming just a bit too oppressively hot, and you found yourself wandering down to the shoreline. You let the water lap over your feet, the waves warmer than you expected. It was only after you had waded out up to your waist that you heard the water breaking behind you, a telltale sign that Steve was joining. Before you could turn to him, his arms were wrapped around your waist, making you jump and squeal.

“Steve!”

He spun you around in the water, making a big splash in your wake.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. It was almost too affectionate, the way he said it, but you decided not to question it.

You just smiled, leaning in until his nose was brushing yours.

“Thank you, for this,” you murmured. “I know I’ve been saying it, but - I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to do anything like this, well… ever.”

His face softened a bit, and he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

A devilish grin, then, “For this.”

Then, he was pulling you into his arms and under the water with him, causing you to yelp with surprise as you became submerged. When you broke the surface, he was laughing like a little kid, earning a playful smack in the arm from you, followed by an indignant splash. And, for even just a few moments, it was easy to forget about everything, other than how much fun you were having.

Yes - this trip was exactly what you needed.

********

The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight filtering into the bedroom. It took you a moment to remember where you were - then, the sandy-colored walls, the soft linen, and the lingering smell of salt water and sunscreen reminded you.

You rolled over in bed, reaching across to find it disappointingly empty. You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the bleariness from your eyes. After scrounging around under the sheets, you eventually unearthed a t-shirt, the one you had pulled off of Steve last night. Shrugging it on, you padded through the house towards the back balcony, where the sounds of the outdoors filtered through the open door. Surely enough, there he was, his back to you as he set plates on the table. You wish you had a camera to capture it - the vision of Steve, shirtless with his disheveled morning hair, the sea sparkling behind him in the early sunlight. But, before you could appreciate it anymore, he seemingly sensed your presence and turned.

“Look who's finally risen!” he declared. “I was worried I’d have to wake you up before the food got cold!”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Got cold?”

“Yeah - I made a veggie frittata, I hope that’s alright. I got some pastries too, and fruit. The coffee’s almost done.”

“I - you cook?”

He stopped, crossing his arms.

“What, did you think I couldn’t?”

You shrugged, throwing up your hands in defense.

“No! I just - I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you cook before.”

You walked towards the table, accepting the chair he pulled out for you as you sank down and settled.

“When did you get all this stuff?” you asked, taking in the spread before you somewhat in awe.

“Oh, um, this morning - I went for a run, and stopped at the market on my way back. Town’s not far.”

You couldn’t even fight how impressed you were, shaking your head in disbelief.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few hours,” he said, shrugging. He cut into the frittata and started loading it onto one of the porcelain plates, passing it to you before sitting down. “I’m usually up pretty early, you know that. I wanted you to sleep in though, glad to know I didn’t wake you.”

“Right. Well, thanks.”

It almost felt like too much, him going to all these lengths for you. Yes, buying you a meal was one thing - he did it all the time. But cooking for you, and with such care… it felt like a different thing entirely. But, you accepted it gratefully, not even realizing just how hungry you were until you started digging in.

You could get used to mornings like this - breakfast on the beach view balcony, fresh coffee and breakfast, Steve’s knee brushing yours under the table. After a while, Steve leaned back and smiled, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.

“So - are you feeling up for an adventure?” he asked, sounding slightly mischievous.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of a strawberry.

“What kind of adventure?”

“The kind you need a bathing suit for,” he said. “Preferably a bikini, but that’s really just for my benefit.”

You laughed. “Is that so?”

That was how you found yourself pulling on a bathing suit, pulled out of your bag along with a cover up and sun hat. Steve was already waiting for you when you emerged, a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, holding your beach bag out to you. You were finally starting to learn to relax, not even asking what he was planning - if it kept going the way this trip already had been, you knew he had a good surprise in store.

He took your arm in his, leading you out of the villa and to the car, tearing down the small dirt road until it became a larger, cobblestone one, descending down the hills into the main little town. The day was warm and bright, prompting Steve to lower the roof of the convertible. You let your eyes close, leaning back against the seat to feel the sun and breeze. You barely even noticed when Steve’s hand came to rest on your thigh.

You didn’t really open your eyes until the car slowed to a stop, realizing where you were. It was the pier, with boats of all different sizes and grandeur bobbing in the water. There was a bit of a hustle and bustle, with people loading and unloading, motors starting, dockhands untying boats and sending people off. You looked over at Steve quizzically, only to be met with a smile.

“You ready?”

“Are we -”

“Taking a boat out? Yes, yes we are,” he said, killing the ignition and hopping out of the car. He came around the other side to open the door and let you out before you had a chance to do it yourself. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he took your hand, deciding to indulge him.

He led you to the dock, and you couldn’t help but start eyeing the prospective boats waiting for you. Eventually, you stopped at a small motorboat, docked and ready to go.

“We - you’re driving?”

Steve nodded, throwing the bags onto the boat and hopping on.

“Yes - I’ve got a boating license.”

“Since when?”

“Since my dad made me get one when I was 16.”

Somehow, Steve Harrington remained an enigma - what else didn’t you know about him?

He turned, offering his hand up to you to help you on board.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded, not even hesitating.

“Yes.”

“Good - then come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

It was so easy to believe Steve, to trust him - when did that happen?

After passing some cash to the dockhand, the boat was untied and sent out, Steve manning the wheel as he headed out into the harbor. You leaned back in the leather seat behind him, holding onto your hat as the boat picked up speed. The waters gradually became less busy, the expanse of blue before you growing greater as you headed out to the sea.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, practically yelling over the sound of the engine.

“A surprise,” he said.

“Of course.”

This earned a chuckle from him, followed by a gesture towards the cooler pack.

“By the way - I packed some drinks, if you want them. And food, too, but that’s for later.”

You grinned, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of rose, still cold and wet with condensation. You poured it into a plastic cup that you found in the bag, smiling endearingly at the thought of Steve doing all of this - shopping, planning, packing, doing everything with you in mind. You sighed, sipping your wine as the boat cut through the waves, the breeze blowing through your hair. Finally, you reached what you presumed was your destination: a smaller island came into view, surrounded by big rocky outcroppings sticking out of the water. You couldn’t even see any other boats docked around it.

“Where are we?” you asked, standing as the boat slowed to a stop. Steve threw the anchor down, with more ease than you expected.

“It’s called Sand City,” he said, propping a leg up on the boat’s edge as he tied the knot. “Well, that’s what locals call it - I’m not sure what it’s actually called. But, barely anyone knows about it - if I had to guess, we’re probably the only ones here.”

You glanced over at the rocky beach - from what you could see, there wasn’t another soul.

“Knowing you, you probably rented out the place,” you joked.

Steve chuckled. “I mean, if I could, I definitely would’ve.”

You laughed, but when he didn’t, you stopped.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Completely.”

You came up next to him, glancing over the side of the boat - the water was crystal clear, the current gentle and calm.

“So, how do we get out there?” you asked.

Steve grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head in one movement.

“We swim.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you dove in after him, the water a relaxing relief from the sun. The pair of you made your way to the shore rather quickly, pulling yourselves out of the water and onto the beach. Here, there wasn;t much of the soft white sand that you had seen on the main island. Instead, the coast was rocky, Steve taking your hand as he helped you weave through to spare your bare feet from the brunt of it.

“You know, for a place called ‘Sand City’ - there’s not a lot of sand,” you observed, following Steve up the beach.

“There’s a reason for that,” Steve said, leading you further up the beach. “See, like a hundred years ago, this place was used for sand mining - and it was a major port. But, they drained the resources, and couldn’t develop anything. See?”

He gestured further down the shoreline. Sure enough, in the distance there were larger wooden posts sticking out of the water, worn and dull with time.

“Those used to be the dock, before it collapsed. But, since there’s a steep dropoff after the sandbar, people like to dock their boats and make day trips out here. Like us, for example,” Steve explained.

“How do you know all this?” you asked, tone laced with surprise.

“I did some research,” he said, shrugging.

“Why?”

“Honestly? I wanted to impress you,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You laughed, louder than you meant to.

“What?” he asked indignantly, stopping in his tracks.

“Nothing! It’s just kind of cute that you’re trying to impress me, I guess.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

You stayed a few steps behind him, smiling to yourself. This was maybe the most relaxed you had ever seen Steve - he seemed younger, almost boyish. You wondered if this is what he was like, years before you met him. When he was your age, was he less hardened? Did he have less walls around him? You had to assume he did.

At one point, he leaned down to pick up a pebble, skipping it across the water.

“Nice, that skipped like, five times,” you remarked.

“You try,” he said, extending a flat pebble to you.

“I’m not any good at this,” you confessed.

“I’ll help you, here -”

He placed the stone gently in your palm, his hand engulfing yours.

“Just follow through like this, and kind of flick your wrist.”

You did your best to ignore how your skin tingled at his touch, following through on his guidance a few times before finally letting go. The stone skimmed the water’s surface, skipping once, before plopping in.

You threw your hands up in the air in celebration.

“Okay, I know that wasn’t much, but - better than anything I’ve done before!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Steve’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you pulled away quickly. Before he could say anything, you gestured for him to keep leading the way.

******

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Steve led you up the island to a thatch of trees, where you came across the old ruins of a submarine. You spent a while investigating it, grabbing a fresh peach hanging off of the trees. You and Steve shared it, eventually returning to the water and swimming out to one of the rocks past the sandbar. You let yourself lay out and sunbathe, Steve by your side. Eventually, though, the one peach you had split didn’t seem to tide you over, your stomach grumbling. You groaned.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a picnic on the boat,” Steve assured. “Want to head back?”

You agreed, welcoming the cool water as you dove back in, clambering back up onto the motorboat. Steve produced a true spread from the cooler, of crackers, cheeses, and grapes, topped off with a bottle of white wine to split. It was so idyllic, floating in the middle of the ocean, with the fresh charcuterie that Steve had so carefully packed for you. After you were full and satiated, you couldn’t help it - you had to start touching Steve. You found it hard to keep your hands off of him, tracing his constellation of moles on his back beneath the sun, both of you laying across a towel. You began to trace letters and words, asking him to guess - Steve’s name, your own, smiley faces and stars, anything you could think of. Steve, as it turned out, was shit when it came to guessing.

You found yourself feeling just a bit mischievous, deciding to press your lips between his shoulder blades instead.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice a bit rougher than it had been.

“What’s the chance of another boat passing us here?” you asked.

“Uh - minimal. Really slim, we’re pretty isolated,” he answered quickly.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I wanna ride you, if you’ll let me.”

And he did, scrambling onto his back, gripping onto your hips as you straddled him. Your bathing suits were shed in a matter of moments, and you wasted no time in sinking onto him. The boat rocked precariously, but it was part of the thrill - Steve came undone in a matter of minutes, cumming deep inside of you. You followed shortly after, convulsing around him with your head thrown back, underneath the bright afternoon sun.

*******

The next few days passed in a blissful blur - Steve took you all around the island. One day, he rented a Vespa, having you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tightly as he drove you around to the other side, where a music and art festival was happening. He followed you around, dancing with you and buying you whatever you wanted from the vendors, insisting that you picked out whatever you wanted. Used books, fresh pastries, a sunhat, handmade mosaics, seashell earrings - whatever caught your interest.

One of the items you picked up was a pack of disposable waterproof cameras, which you immediately made quick use of. You began snapping photos of the town, the ocean views, and most of all, Steve. You caught candids of Steve walking down the street, running his hands through his hair, or his side profile, when he wasn’t paying attention. You got him to pose on occasion too, insisting on taking pictures at each new site you visited. Soon, Steve took one of the cameras, playing your own game and sneaking photos of you throughout the trip.

“Pose for me, baby, for the memories,” he insisted, pulling back to capture you every chance he got.

You and Steve made use of the villa, too. On the third day, you woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Steve bemoaned the inclement weather, but you just snuggled further under the covers.

“What are we going to do, then?” Steve grumbled.

“We can just stay here… in bed… all day,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hm - actually, today’s a perfect day to practice your Italian,” you added, smirking.

“What do you -”

“Here’s the deal,” you said, sinking a bit further below the covers. “I’m going to quiz you on what I’ve taught you so far - if you get it right, I keep sucking you off. You get it wrong, though… I stop, until the next one you get right. What do you say?”

You spent that morning edging Steve, who quickly became a whimpering mess at your mercy. His language retention, it turned out, wasn’t great. Every time he screwed up an Italian word or phrase, you pulled your lips off his cock, looking up at him with disappointment.

When he finally did cum, he begged to do it all over your tits, which you obliged. That, of course, led to a bath in the clawfoot tub, where Steve happily joined you, insisting on reciprocating. The rainy day, as it turned out, wasn’t a waste at all.

Another day, he took you out on a small ferry cruise to go snorkeling. You both dove through the shallows, exploring coral reefs and swimming through schools of fish. You were fairly certain that you’d never get over the color of the sea here - the bright, aquamarine water was stunning, and you were certain that if it was flatter underneath, you’d be able to see through the ocean for miles. You snapped a few photos underwater, hoping that they’d reflect what it looked like in-person. You doubted it, though. At one point, when you both broke the surface and climbed back onto the rowboat you had taken out, Steve was holding a lump of sand in his hand.

“What is that?”

He smiled, shaking it off under the water to reveal what looked like a gray rock. You furrowed your brow, confusion only growing and Steve produced a pocket knife. He cut into it along the edge - it was an oyster.

“In the mood for shellfish, Harrington?”

He just shook his head, prying the shell open. He squinted, then smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some pretty good luck today!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he reached into the shell and pulled out -

“Is that a pearl?” you asked, eyes widening.

He nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to you.

“For you.”

You shook your head.

“No, Steve - do you know how rare that is? Just to find a natural pearl? I shouldn’t -”

“I was hoping to find one, just for you,” he assured. “Seriously - I want you to have it.”

You took it hesitantly, turning the small white stone in your hand. It was so small, perfectly round, with a few grains of sand still clinging to it. You shook your head incredulously.

“I - thank you,” you whispered. You fished your wallet out of your beach bag, tucking the pearl safely inside.

******

The evenings were filled with sunsets and wine, Steve insisting on bringing you to the best restaurants that the island had to offer. When you returned to the villa, you would take a dip in the pool - bathing suits optional. That’s why, by the time your actual birthday came around, it wasn’t a surprise that you were physically exhausted.

The morning of your birthday came on a Saturday, the last full day of your trip. You had attempted to stay up until midnight on Friday to properly ring it in, but you were so exhausted from the sun and copious amounts of wine consumed during the day that you were asleep before 11.

That night, you dreamed. Often, your dreams weren’t very vivid. If you remembered them at all when you woke up, there wasn’t really anything concrete. And, you supposed, this wasn’t really any different. You felt warm, only really seeing flashes of golden light, dancing behind your eyelids like stars. Your skin tingled, and you were just relaxed. You sighed in contentment, suddenly feeling your brow furrow at the realization that you could feel the mattress you were lying on, the soft sheets fisted in your fingers.

You weren’t sleeping anymore, not completely. You weren’t exactly sure when you had stopped, crossing the line between dreaming and consciousness. But suddenly, you were acutely aware of the air on your skin, the quickening of your breath, and, most notably, the feeling of warm lips pressed to your skin.

“Mm - Steve?” you grumbled, voice still groggy from sleep.

“G’morning, birthday girl,” he murmured from below the sheets, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“What’re you -”

“I wanted to make today extra special,” he whispered. “Starting right now.”

He continued to pepper kisses across your abdomen, traveling further down, down, down -

“Fuck,” you gasped as his breath ghosted over your bare cunt. “Steve -”

“Shhh, baby,” he whispered. “Today’s all about you - just relax, okay?”

Anything else that you wanted to say died on your tongue, your breath hitching as soon as his mouth made contact with your core. He licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue settling to swirl around your clit.

“Steve! Oh, shit - just like that. Oh my god -”

You felt your back arch as your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread wide for him as he devoured you.

Soon, one of his hands wandered from your thigh, gathering your slick as he circled your entrance.

You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back.

“Please, Steve,” you whined. He paused for a moment.

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He started sucking, and you already shivered at the thought of him leaving a mark there, a reminder for later.

“Please - your fingers,” you begged.

“What about them?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Inside me - please - fuck me with your fingers,” you exclaimed.

“If you insist, darling.”

That was your only warning. He plunged two fingers into your sopping entrance, returning his tongue to your clit. You practically screamed, writhing in the sheets as he loved on you in the best way he knew how.

He kissed and licked at your cunt like he was worshiping it. He grinned against your skin at the sound of your whines when he added a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You found your own hands wandering, looking to grab onto something, anything. Between his ministrations, you heard Steve murmur, “Your tits, baby.”

“What?”

“Touch your tits, sweetheart, you know you want to.”

You didn’t even question it, obeying as your hands found their way to your breasts. You cupped and palmed them, moaning at the added stimulation as Steve continued to eat you out.

“I’m close,” you breathed, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There was pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. You continued feeling your tits, toying with your nipples and squeezing at the soft flesh.

Your orgasm felt like a dam breaking. You screamed Steve’s name as the pleasure washed over you, intense and white-hot like a tsunami. He worked you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shook. By the time he removed his fingers from you, you were a mess. You felt boneless, certain you’d sink all the way through the mattress if you weren’t careful.

Your breathing was deep and labored, not even capable of forming a coherent thought as Steve pressed soft kisses to your inner thigh. Just as he had started, he kissed his way back up your body - your stomach, your breasts, sternum, collarbone, neck - and, finally, your lips. You still faintly tasted yourself on him, and sighed into his mouth.

After several moments, you finally spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“So, that was good?” he asked.

You turned your cheek down to your pillow, bringing you face-to-face with the man lying next to you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I - I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life,” you admitted.

Steve practically puffed up with pride, fighting a smile.

“Is that so?”

You reached across the bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, really. Best birthday ever.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s barely started yet!”

“Still - that would’ve made it just perfect, no need to do anything else.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Well, that’s definitely not all I have planned. We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Of course we do. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to take a shower.”

You rolled out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, not even bothering with the fact that you were stark nude. You felt Steve’s eyes practically burning a hole through you, prompting you to cast a glance over your shoulder.

“I might need help, you know,” you said suggestively.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

********

Most of the day passed without a hitch. In fact, you would call it perfect. Almost, at least. You had breakfast on the balcony, the morning relatively slow and relaxed. Then, Steve took you to the sea, renting another boat until you reached what you learned to be Aragonese Castle. The ruins sat on a volcanic rock formation, accessible via a footbridge going across the water. On the island, you explored the castle, marveling at the sight from the top. You stood atop the structure, something older than you could even comprehend, staring out across the sparkling sea. Steve took your camera, snapping a few photos of you before you noticed.

“Come on, birthday girl, pose for me,” he begged with his go-to line, smiling as you grinned and threw your hands up in the air for the camera.

After, you took the boat around the coast to another smaller island, making your way up to the little village there. Steve made good on his word, and as you wandered through the market, did his best to name all the items in Italian. Every time he got something right, you kissed him. For everything he got wrong, he had to buy you something from that vendor. In the end, it was working out much better for you, your bag filling more and more as you walked through.

You both walked along the beach, finding yourselves carrying your shoes as you let the water wash over your feet on the shoreline. The afternoon waned to the early evening, the sun moving from beating on your backs to golden, slowly sinking towards the horizon. You had returned to the main island, Steve insisting on returning home briefly to change out of beach clothes. You followed his lead, trusting whatever he had planned. As you were throwing on some makeup, you barely noticed him come into the bathroom behind you, too focused on yourself in the mirror.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “I know we haven’t exactly had an occasion for something like this yet, but I had this made for you - I was kind of hoping you’d wear it tonight.”

He held up a clothing hanger, shrouded in a garment bag. You smiled at him through the mirror, bounding over excitedly to unzip and look at what was inside.

“I - wow.”

��Put it on for me?” he asked. “It’s part of your birthday present.”

You obliged, kicking him out of the room, insisting that you wanted him to be surprised. You slipped on the dress easily, your breath catching in your throat as soon as you saw yourself in the mirror.

It was a vibrant, deep red, made of some kind of shimmering silk. Somehow, it both flowed over you and hugged you in all the right places - more than anything else Steve had gotten made for you, this had to have been done with you in mind. Somehow, you were certain it was the best you had ever looked. Valentina had outdone herself.

You opened the door slowly, mainly for dramatic effect. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a suit jacket over his button-down, the first few buttons notably undone. At the sight of you, he sat up quickly. His eyes widened, looking you up and down as he scrambled to his feet.

“Well, what do you think?” you asked.

It took Steve a moment to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for words. Then, softly:

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing to your head creating a dull roar in your ears.

“You’re a liar,” you insisted.

“With you? Never.”

“Well, just one thing,” you said, coming closer to him before turning around. “I need help zipping it up.”

You felt Steve’s hands at the small of your back, pulling the zipper up slowly. His fingers brushed your exposed skin on the way up. And, when he finally reached the top, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I have something else for you,” he whispered in your ear. Before you could ask, you felt something cold around your neck, a weight resting against your sternum. Your hand came up to touch it - a necklace. A ruby pendant to match the dress, the chain lined delicately with diamonds.

“Steve-” you said, turning to face him.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, beating you to what you were about to say.

“But - you’ve already put together this whole trip… I can’t -”

“You only turn 21 once,” he said. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

“Maybe in the States - not really so much here -”

“I guess that’s why I wanted to make it special, just for you,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

His eyes were so soft, begging you to just say yes, and your chest suddenly felt warm.

“Thank you,” you finally said. “Really.”

Then, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hungry, or heated, or demanding. It was soft and slow. When he pulled away, hand cupping your jaw, it felt like you should say something else - but what? Before you could decide what it should be, he was holding out an arm to you. You hooked yours through it, letting him lead the way.

Sunset hadn’t happened yet, but it was probably soon - the sky was bathed in the deep golden of the sun, the day aging and giving way to the evening soon enough. You took the Ferrari, the top down as Steve drove down the hill and into town.

The place Steve had reserved for dinner was tucked into the mountain, made of old stone and terraced into the Earth. You were on the rooftop, your table set out so that you had a view of the city below, and the sea beyond. The sky was turning shades of orange and pink, promising a stunning sunset.

“Steve,” you started once you were settled into your chair, “this place - it’s stunning.”

You couldn’t even hide your awe, realizing for maybe the hundredth time that week just how lucky you were.

“Just wait until sunset,” he said. “This is the most in-demand restaurant on the island.”

“And you got a reservation?” you asked, perusing the wine menu.

“I pulled some strings.”

“Naturally.”

You brought your feet to rest on top of his under the table.

After ordering a bottle of wine, Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tobacco and rolling papers.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

“As long as you share,” you replied, grinning as he started rolling a second cigarette.

As you lit yours up and took a deep inhale, you allowed a moment to fully take in the sight of Steve.

The last week had changed him. You thought about him, and how he had said that this was the first time he had taken a vacation from work. His skin was tanned, his hair a bit lighter from the time in the sun. It had grown a bit longer, too, since you’d first met him.

As he breathed out smoke, donning sunglasses and bathed in the golden light of dusk, you felt your chest ache. For better or for worse, Steve Harrington has changed your life.

After enjoying a decadent meal of seafood, flatbreads, and pasta, all shared with Steve, it was properly dark out. The only light came from the strong lights hanging around the patio, and the candlelight on the table. You were a bit tipsy from the shared bottle of wine, feeling warm and hazy. It was during dessert, as you were sipping a cappuccino and tasting your tiramisu, that Steve cleared his throat.

“So, I have one more present for you,” he announced, straightening up in his chair.

“Steve - no.”

“But -”

“You’ve already gotten me the dress, the necklace, this entire trip. And, well… everything else.”

The arrangement, which you two barely spoke of anymore. At least, not directly. He just sighed, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

“It’s the last thing, I promise - please?”

You stared at him for a moment before finally conceding. Grabbing the envelope, you tore it open, pulling out the piece of paper inside. You stared at it for a moment, squinting in the dim candlelight. It was a map - a map of the night sky. You vaguely recognized it, thanks to the astronomy class you had to take during your first year of school.

“It’s - the sky?”

“Well, it’s a certificate, for proof.”

“Proof of what?”

He pointed to the text at the top. You read it once. Twice. Five times. You felt your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.

“Did you - did you name a star after me?”

Steve nodded slowly, assessing your reaction.

“Yes. Well, specifically - it’s kind of stupid, but… it’s a star that’s over Rome in late May, right around when we met. I don’t know, I just thought - it was just an idea.”

When your eyes met his again, he was asking a silent question - expectant, nervous, his gaze asking, do you like it?

It was then that it hit you. It was like a train, knocking the breath out of you. And, without thinking, you said it:

“I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it tumbled out, you swore your heart stopped. Everything was spinning, and you were certain you were going to be sick. But, after an agonizing moment, Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“So, am I supposed to know what that one means?”

“I - what?”

“Are you quizzing me again?”

A wave of relief washed over you - you had said it in Italian. What Steve had heard was sono innamorato di te. You let out a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Oh - yes. Yeah!”

“Okay - what does it mean?”

“Just, um - it means I love it. The gift, I mean. It… it was really thoughtful.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what you’d think, to be honest.”

You stared down at the paper, avoiding his eyes. You did your best to just focus on the page, hoping he couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking.

“No - it’s great. Thank you, really.”

You forced a smile, meeting his eyes again. Then, you stood up suddenly, your chair sliding out behind you. Concern flickered across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Me? Yeah, I just - I need to use the ladies’ room,” you mumbled. You took a step towards him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs to the lower part of the restaurant.

As soon as you were locked in the bathroom, you braced yourself on the sink. You did your best to steady your breathing, gripping to porcelain for dear life. That was a close call - too close. You immediately started chastising yourself - you were an idiot, a fool. Your one job was to not fall for him. It was the most important part of the agreement. Wasn’t the whole point of this to avoid complications, and heartbreak?

You took a deep breath, assessing the facts:

You loved Steve Harrington.

You weren’t supposed to love Steve Harrington.

Now, every time you were with him, you’d be lying to his face

In a month, he’d be out of your life.

You felt nauseous, the room starting to spin. This couldn’t be happening. But, it was. You stared at yourself in the mirror - your eyes were glassy, threatening to break into full-on tears at any moment. No, you couldn’t do that - you weren’t going to ruin this perfect day, perfect week. This was so you, to ruin everything for yourself at the last minute. You gathered yourself, fighting the urge to cry. You were going to make this work - you had to. Steve never had to know how you were feeling, how much you had fucked this whole thing up. So, you straightened yourself up, doing your best to regain composure, and headed back upstairs to the table.

Steve visibly relaxed when he saw you approaching.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you slid into your chair.

“Oh - yeah. All good, it’s just - I’m stuffed!” you declared, laughing half-heartedly. “Seriously, this was delicious, but - I can’t eat or drink anything else.”

Steve nodded. “Oh, no problem - I can get the check.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to seem normal - to make yourself feel normal. Nothing had to change between you two, as far as you were concerned.

So, you let Steve take you home, your hand on his leg making him drive the car borderline recklessly. You both stumbled through the door of the villa, shedding one another of your clothes like your lives depended on it.

Maybe you were reading too much into it, or maybe something truly had shifted. More likely, the reality was somewhere in the middle. But, the sex wasn’t desperate, or urgent. You took your time with one another, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the last time you’d ever do so. Steve held you close, kissing every inch of you, his lips whispering prayers and sweet nothings into your skin.

You gave it all back to him, thanking him for everything he’s done for you with filthy words whispered in his ear, telling him how good he was making you feel.

He sucked bruises into your skin, and you left scratches down his back. When you came, it was together, the pleasure peaking and flowing through both of you in unison. After, he laid on top of you, your fingers running gently through his hair as you stared at the ceiling. You just let yourself bathe in the afterglow, hanging on to Steve like he’d disappear if you didn’t.

It was later, after your head had settled onto his chest with his arms wrapped around you, that he finally spoke.

“So - did you have a good birthday?”

“Mm,” you hummed blissfully. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear, grounding you.

“Best birthday I ever had,” you added.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you affirmed. “You - you made me feel special. I don’t think anyone’s bothered to do that before, not like this.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said solemnly. “You deserve better.”

You shook your head, burying your face further into his chest.

“You’ve made up for that,” you assured him. “Trust me.”

His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, we’re doing round two next weekend, with Robin’s not-surprise party.”

You groaned.

“I forgot about that.”

“It’s only because she loves you, you know.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at the word. You immediately felt stupid for even letting that happen, as if it was voluntary.

“Yeah, she does,” you conceded.

“I don’t want this trip to end,” Steve admitted. His voice was lower, words slurring a bit. You realized that his breathing had slowed down considerably - he was drifting.

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Let’s just stay forever.”

It sounded like a joke, earning a low chuckle from him. It didn’t feel like one, though.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

After a few moments, Steve went completely silent. His heartbeat was slower, and you sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

Without him to distract you, your mind started racing. The anxiety was gone - no, the feeling now was pure and utter dread. But, the most horrible part was when you glanced over at the man beside you - all you felt was butterflies, churning in your stomach like some sweet sickness.

You stared at Steve for a while - the rise and fall of his chest, his disheveled hair, the way the moonlight cast over his form, highlighting his silhouette.

“Hey, Steve? You awake?” you whispered through the darkness. No response.

You brought yourself up onto your elbow, leaning in just a bit closer. You’d never be able to tell him to his face, but this was the closest you’d get - maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. At least, that was what you told yourself.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered. No response.

You promptly turned over under the covers, burying your face in the pillow. And, finally, the tears came. Fast and hot, they leaked onto the pillow, marking it like acid as you did your best to sob silently.

You were fucked. Completely and utterly ruined. For the first time in ages, you cried yourself to sleep. Before you finally drifted off, one question was on your mind:

What were you going to do when Steve left for good?

author's note: hi everyone! Thanks for your patience for this update! Work has been kicking my ass, and it's been harder to make time to write. Before anyone says anything, no, I don't speak Italian, nor have I been to Italy. I did my best, but some details were fabricated for the story, so if it's not accurate - oh well! Thanks to everyone for all the kind messages, and to my bestie Em for the endless inspiration. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

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beauty-and-passion · 4 months ago

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So... The Thunder Saga

Or, as we can call it, "Of Intentions and Pride".

By now, Mr. Rivera-Herrans is a guarantee of quality: he makes a song, it will be a bop. He will also psychologically destroy you and hype you up at the same time and give your brain a good scratch - especially if you know the Odyssey already - and the narration is so clear and the characters so flawed... let's just say, you will leave by being completely satisfied.

Fine, the songs might not be musically incredible, but the references, the voices and the lyrics are absolutely perfect. They pick up from all we experienced through Act I and introduce us to an Act that, with those premises, will definitely be characterized by pain. But, like, a lot of pain.

And we all like some sweet sweet angst in our lives, so let's talk about the songs a little more in detail.

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Suffering & Different Beast: We! Got! The! Sirens! In my first post about EPIC, when the Underworld Saga wasn't out yet, I hoped we would have the sirens here and so here they are: the sirens!

I like how Mr. Rivera-Herrans decided to change the events regarding them, compared to the Odyssey. In the original story, Odysseus wanted to hear the sirens' song, so while the crew plugged their ears with beeswax, he was tied to the mast and he actually listened to that song. And yes, it drove him crazy, he begged and ordered to be released, but the crew didn't listen to him, until they were at a safe distance.

So the original Odysseus' encounter with the sirens was characterized by curiosity. He knew they were dangerous and still wanted to listen to them.

But the premises in EPIC are completely different: in the previous song, Odysseus just sang about wanting to become a monster. He won't let anyone stop him from coming back home. This is his main focus - it has always been his focus, since Troy: coming back home to his son and wife. He's not curious about everything, he's not willing to take risks. He's different from his Homeric counterpart.

(I think this also explains Jorge's short about not using EPIC as main source while talking about the Odyssey: he was about to change one of Odysseus' main characteristics, of course he wanted people to not mix up the two things)

So, when Odysseus meets the sirens here, he's not curious about them: he just sees them as a means to his end. He plugs his ears too just like his crew and gets to them the information he needs. That's it. No curiosity, no interest. They're just another enemy.

Hence why, he has to slay them. It doesn't matter if they're begging: he made a mistake once, he won't make the same mistake again. As Poseidon taught him: ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

Speaking of the sirens, I also love how their "luring song" isn't just a simple song: they literally use Penelope's voice and shape, to trick Odysseus into getting in the water. And that makes it way more impactful: just imagine this man, after promising himself he will come back home to his wife, sees his wife calling for him. The perfect temptation.

I would also like to point out this sentence from Wikipedia regarding the sirens:

"Some post-Homeric authors state that the sirens were fated to die if someone heard their singing and escaped them, and that after Odysseus passed by they therefore flung themselves into the water and perished."

I don't know if Mr. Rivera-Herrans knew about this, but I love the idea that Odysseus was responsible for their death both in the Odyssey and in EPIC. The only difference is that he was indirectly responsible in the original, while in EPIC he's a ruthless beast ready to slay the sirens firsthand.

Speaking of that, I really appreciate how his crew united around this new version of their captain. He's a "man-made monster" and, as someone on Tumblr pointed out (can't find your post anymore, I'm so sorry!), this can both mean "a monster made by a human" and "a monster in human shape" and they both perfectly sum up who Odysseus is now. Still, they accept this and actively support it... at least when the monster's ruthlessness is directed towards others. They will regret that soon.

One last thing; I like to think that the last line "Odysseus" is a reference to King, because that's another song when he will "kill them all" too.

We're off to a dark start and I love it.

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Scylla: her voice is haunting and beautiful and I will never stop falling on my knees weak with love for those incredible singers. Mr. Rivera-Herrans, thank you for always finding great voices.

I also noticed how, from the moment Odysseus decided to become a monster, the monsters/powerful figures started to understand him. We will see this with Zeus too, but we see it way, WAY more with Scylla.

Odysseus barely talks for the entire song. He says three lines only. But he doesn't really have to talk, because Scylla perfectly explains everything that is going on in his mind.

Odysseus says he doesn't have a lot to say? She says he's hiding "a reason for shame", because he already planned the death of his men.

Eurylochus confesses he opened the wind bag? That left Odysseus "feeling betrayed" and "broke the bond of trust the two men made".

Eurylochus is sorry? Still, Odysseus already made up his mind to sacrifice these men and, since now Eurylochus confessed his betrayal, then he can be one of those six. As Scylla says, "There is no price we won't pay" and "We only care for ourselves".

About the last part, I love how cool and dark her voice is, so driven by bloodlust... it's perfect. And it still explains what Odysseus feels, the heaviness, the regret, the sadness: they're still his men, his companion, his brothers. And if all other times their death was unintentional, this time he actively betrayed them.

But still, despite what he feels, he did it. Because "We must do what it takes to survive". And so he did: in order to survive, he sacrificed the expendables.

And yes it's dark and terrible, but it's also perfectly coherent with the character he is now. He knows he has no chance against Scylla and he must pay a price. He knows must survive, to come back home. So, he decides to pay that price and sacrifice six men, to save more - and most importantly, to save himself. Because in the end, it's like Scylla said: everyone wants to survive. Homo homini lupus.

Even darker. Love it.

(One tiny mistake I would like to point out, because it's the second time it happened: "We're lonely demons from hell", what 'hell' are you talking about, Scylla? Maybe the Christian one? Because I can assure you, there's no 'hell' in Greek mythology. But okay, fine, I'll let it pass, because I've seen this same mistake in a lot of works too - especially fantasy stories with a made-up religion, mentioning a 'hell' that doesn't exist)

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Mutiny: as said before, in Scylla (and in Thunder Bringer) we see the monsters/powerful understand Odysseus and see through him. Here, on the other hand, we see how Odysseus' crew doesn't understand him anymore.

Once again, I love it because it makes sense! Odysseus decided to become a monster, so of course now he's more similar to their enemies, than to the other humans. He's driven by one thing only: home. Empathy, kindness, brotherhood, nothing else makes sense anymore, except for home.

It was still okay, when Odysseus directed his ruthlessness towards their enemies. The problem rose as soon as he directed his ruthlessness toward his own companions.

Why? Because of intentionality. When Odysseus' (and Eurylochus') actions led to the death of most of the men, it was never intentional. It was always a mistake. A mistake he paid dearly, but not something he wanted. Hence why, despite blaming and probably having a grudge against him, the crew never rebelled against Odysseus.

This time, it wasn't a mistake. This time, he purposely sacrificed these six men. And he didn't do it to save others, he didn't even try another plan: he did it, because he had to survive. It wasn't even for his own crew: it was for himself.

That's why, despite six being way less than 500+ held more weight for them. An unintentional sacrifice means "I've tried hard to save everyone and failed"... but an intentional sacrifice means "I'm willing to kill everyone, to save myself".

So, we get the sun god's cows. And considering the premise, this episode is even more impactful. It's not just "Odysseus' men are fucking idiots and ate the cows despite knowing they were the sun god's cows". It's a crew of tired, broken people who went through a lot of shit and have lost all hope of coming back home. They're just men.

And so, as men, they make a mistake. They forget how powerful and vengeful gods can be.

But if they forgot, Odysseus did not and the last part perfectly shows his fear, the sense of urgency, the dread. He knows who is coming, everyone knows it and there's no need to tell who is coming, because everyone just knows he will come and that silent threat is enough to make them run away as fast as possible.

Jsut not fast enough.

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Thunder Bringer: the other songs might just be good, but this one SLAPS SO HARD. I love dramatic songs and this one is INCREDIBLE. The singer's voice is deep, rich, powerful. It's truly a thunderous voice and you immediately know who he is.

That's another great choice: no one calls Zeus' name, nor introduces him. All other gods were announced by something/someone or introduced themselves - but Zeus doesn't need to. He's THE king of the gods, he's THE powerful one. He doesn't need others to tell his name, because everyone knows who he is.

And that makes him SO. FUCKING. COOL. Also because, consider what he said. He didn't tell "I'm pissed" or explained why he was there and his motives. He doesn't need to explain his motives. He just said "I'm here and someone will die, make your choice".

This alone emphasizes the sheer power this figure has. He doesn't need to justify his actions to the mortals: the mortals already know what they did. He's just here to deliver. As he said, he's "the judgment call/The one who makes her kingdom fall".

This is great too, because it's what Zeus does in myths too! In most of the myths, the final decision is up to Zeus: he decides who should be punished or rewarded and his choice is final. (Only the Moirai are above him, but they represent fate and fate was an unmovable aspect of life, so they don't count.)

And the whole metaphor Zeus uses to talk about pride is great too. Sure, it's sexual, but I wouldn't expect less from the guy who fucks everything that breathes. Still, the main focus is not on how much he wants to fuck (which is what most of the people who do rewrites focus on), but on his power. And, in this case, on his ability to unmask every pride and every pretense, to show people's true colors.

Just think about it: when he asks Odysseus

If I were to make you choose The lives of your men and crew or your own Why do I think they'd lose?

he's literally revealing his true colors.

As said before, Odysseus has ALWAYS been obsessed with coming back home to his wife and son. He said it during the Troy Saga, he reconfirmed in every saga: he fights for Penelope and Telemachus, because he wants to come back to them. His crew is made of his brothers and companions, sure, but he never said "I will come back home with them". He always said "I will come back home".

What Zeus is doing now is revealing who Odysseus has always been. He's giving him a choice, already knowing what the answer will be, because he wants him to admit who he truly is.

Do you know what that reminds me of? Berserk. I haven't read it in full, but I know the story and if you've read/heard of the Eclipse Arc, you know too and you understand what I mean.

If you don't know (and don't care about the spoiler - otherwise, skip the next two paragraphs), Griffith is the leader of a powerful army and, during the story, he talks about his dream and how he's willing to sacrifice anything to his dream. His companions? He owes them, he says. Why? Because they sacrificed their own dreams, to help him achieve his. They died, to let him follow his dream. So he needs to fulfill his dream, otherwise their deaths would be in vain.

And when everything goes to shit and after he loses everything and gets one final chance to fulfill his dream, but the price would be the death of ALL of his army... he does it. He willingly sacrifices them. Because that's who he has always been. Because that's what he has always done. Because his dream has always been more important than everything else.

Back to Thunder Bringer: I also love how all voices softer and more subdued, in contrast to Zeus' thundering one. It's a wonderful effect, it emphasizes how "huge" he is, compared to mere humans. Odysseus can't escape, no one can. The tears in his voice are full of pain. But he already made his choice back in Troy - he made it even before sailing from Ithaca.

Now, his nature has finally been revealed. and he will deal with the pain it brings.

But hey, he's not the only one to do it. You have to deal with it too, because, as I said, sweet angst is sweet and these songs are bangers. So listen to them, stream them and shower Mr. Rivera-Herrans with love because he deserves it.

And also, don't forget to stream the new versions of the Troy and the Cyclops Saga! They're new, updated, more beautiful, with better sounds and, most importantly, the revenue will go to Mr. Rivera-Herrans' company and not to the old company that never gave him a cent for them. Fuck them and their greed, this man deserves money and credit and to work on more cool stuff.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll do my 30th listen of Thunder Bringer...

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#epic the musical #epic the thunder saga #the thunder saga #thunder saga #suffering #different beast #scylla #mutiny #thunder bringer #I am weak for dramatic ass songs #and thunder bringer scratches that part of my brain so good #can't wait to see all the wonderful animatics #these songs are so great bless Jorge

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