#there are few shows i’ve seen that compare to that actually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 3 months

Text

Reign down on me - Part 6

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: Hi, helooooo! Sorry for the long update times, my life has been super hectic. So this chapter didn't go where I thought it would end up going, so there's some things I think I said I was gonna explore that will be in the next chapter instead. However I hope you enjoy this one 💕 thanks for waiting

-🐺-

There was a quiet hum pulsing through the room, the buzz of everyone around you tending to their own conversations and hoppy drinks which allowed you to relax and attempt to tune out the busy environment. After another successful mission, the 141 wanted to unwind- which apparently meant going to the pub for drinks, darts and, according to them, mediocre grub. Although after dining fine on MRE’s for the majority of your life, you had to disagree. That sausage and mash was the some of the best you’d tried.

Ghost had forced you to change into some civvies before you’d left, which meant doing another embarrassing repeat of the shopping experience hed’d taken you out on. You still weren’t convinced you were able to put together a good outfit, fussing and trying a few different combinations of things, but once Ghost had looked you up and down and given you a nod of approval you’d relaxed.

When you’d all gotten to the pub and you’d seen that less people stared at you while in your new attire, you were soon thankful for the change. A hybrid in military gear drew attention, it probably made people think the area was being worked, but a casually dressed and collared hybrid was apparently nothing to get too concerned about. Huh.

Once you’d pressed yourself to the back of the booth, you barely worried about being out in public anymore. The world was the confines of the table, the edge of it stretching no further than your now trusted teammates. That became all the more true after you were offered a drink and then another and another. Once the buzz had started, the last of your lingering anxieties around being out floated to the back of your mind and disappeared like smoke. None of the other patrons were even a blip in the back of your fuzzy little head.

“So Pup, what’d you reckon?” Gaz asked, spinning his pint glass around in his hand. “‘Nother drink?”

How many were you actually allowed, you wondered, you’d already had a few. When you turned to Ghost to try and gauge your answer, he was too busy talking in hushed tones to Soap, so instead you employed your backup. Price smiled wryly the second you clocked eyes with him across the table.

“Like most things, Pup, this ain’t a test,” Price chuckled. “You know your own tolerance don’t you?”

“You think I’ve done a lot of drinking before?” You asked back, innocently dodging his question.

You twiddled with your own glass, rolling it between your palms and watching the dregs inside twirl. Bubbles of the beer still continued to fizzle across your palette even as you watched it dance below you. The hypnotic show only served to further make you aware of the hazy sheen across your eyes, and you were sure that if you stood up you’d probably feel like you were walking on foamy clouds.

You’d have to be careful. Wouldn’t do to overindulge, you tried to remind yourself. Though that voice was quiet compared to the euphoric beast in you that cried out for more, that wanted to keep going until you forgot about every sordid thought in your head as easily as you forgot about how uncomfortable crowds made you.

“Well you sunk those pretty quickly,” Gaz said, motioning his glass toward you.

“Not to mention Branhaven has one of the highest rates of contraband seizure for a UK base,” Price noted, finishing the last of his drink. “Reckon you’ve probably indulged a time or two, no?”

You couldn’t conceal your smile. Though your ears soon pinned to your head, realising that the implication that you were engaging in illegal behaviour was floated out wide in the open. It was true, hybrids would often do chores or other kinds of favours for human soldiers in exchange for goods, which often meant working for booze or cigarettes or stronger stuff on occasion. You’d been more than happy to help with boot polishing and patch sewing on an occasion or two. Some nights it helped with the pain, on others it just kept you from going mad.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone your secrets,” Gaz winked. “I’ll go get us another round.”

You bit your lip and nodded, watching as he made his way over to the busy bar, casually floating around a group of men before seizing an opportunity to break through to the oderous wood top. Once at the counter, he folded his arms over it and leaned his body out ever so slightly, his hips angling back toward the table.

It was hard to tell if it was entirely the drink, but as you watched him, you found yourself really looking what you saw. Gaz was a well built man, lean and proportioned well, but it was his face that your eyes were stuck on. He looked good that night, his smiles came easy, the full ones that showed his fang-like teeth. They glinted in the soft light when he turned around to say something to the man next to him, shining like pearls. His shoulders were relaxed, back untensed, his body shook with laughter when the other man made a joke.

Truth be told you couldn’t be sure how long you stared after him, but it was safe to say your roving eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“See somethin’ you like over there?” Price asked, jerking his head back to the Sergeant.

You blinked slowly. Your head felt like it was rushing with syrup, getting flustered but too tipsy to respond with anything smart.

“What?”

“You’re lookin’ awfully hard is all,” he shrugged.

The room felt like it heated a few degrees. In an effort to not meet that crinkly eyed grin of your captain, your gaze floated along the arm hed slung over the back of Gaz's chair. However, that only gave you more problems. You immediately imagined him slinging that arm over you, holding you close and sharing his heady body heat. Smelling his scent, bathing him in yours.

It’s happening again!

Your ears perked up like lightning rods when you realised that some baser part of your nature was taking over yet another time that week. The feral little creature that usually kicked around somewhere in your hindbrain was clawing its way to the forefront. Now you were practically panting after half your team. You needed to get a hold of yourself, you reasoned, surely you weren’t going to give into whatever random desires you were getting for closeness. Stupid Pack bond - or whatever it was that Ghost had chalked it up to.

“I, uh- there’s pool over there,” you shrugged lamely, gesturing to the tables just off to Gaz’s right.

Someone managed to pot a ball not long after you’d said it. Your ears tilted toward the sound, then swivelled again when you heard Gaz’s familiar huffs and puffs of effort. He was now stepping toward you with a trayful of glasses, clenching his teeth whenever he came close to spilling or bumping into someone, walking ever slower with the wobbling glasses as he realised how precariously they were balanced. His muscles bulged a little with the effort.

Price caught your stupid staring again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. His eyes just narrowed knowingly at you, not with accusation but with concealed humour. You could tell by the subtle pull of his lip.

“Gazzy. You up for a game?” Price barked.

“Depends, what are we playing?” Gaz asked, raising a brow as he snatched his pint.

He took a sip of it, coating his upper lip in a little sheen of foam. He licked it off in short order.

“The wolf wants to play pool,” Price said.

Price once again interrupted your brain fog from taking over. Knowing full well that he would be wearing that same stupid ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look on his face, you looked up at Gaz and reached out for your own drink. That one had to be your last before - god forbid - you were left drooling over anyone else.

“Oh yeah? You a secret pool master?” Gaz asked.

“Oh…no,” you clarified, awkwardly swallowing a gulp of beer. “I’ve watched it being played enough times though. I always wanted to try it.”

You’d never actually been that bothered about it, you preferred to blend in rather than get caught in competition, especially when it came to games with humans. However as far as any of them were concerned, it was your life’s dream. Anything, as long as it stopped anyone from thinking that you were obsessed with your teammate.

“You wanna pair up with me then? Reckon you should be on the winning team for your first game.”

“Pfft, winning team? Sure that’s with you, son?” Price scoffed.

“Beat you last time didn’t I, old man?”

“Fuck off.”

Price took a dramatic gulp of his beer then loudly pushed off from the booth, marching toward the pool table as if it were a mission objective. You laughed noiselessly to yourself, but soon had to stop yourself from choking on your own drink when the little demon inside you commented on how nice his big broad shoulders were, perfect for holding you close.

How were you going to survive the night?

You looked back over at Ghost to try and regain some sense of composure only to see that Soap was shuffling along the bench to leave and your handler was about to follow him. Giving him a slight head tilt in question, you wondered where they were going. To which, Ghost answered by pulling you in close, wrapping his arm around you and leaving you practically choking on his forearm for a second, before he released you with a messy pat on the head.

“We’re goin’ for a smoke,” he chuckled, watching your annoyed glare with amusement while you fixed your hair. “Be good while I’m gone.”

The smile lines broke out under his eyes, and for a ditzy second all you could do was stare. All thoughts of telling him off left your mind, instead you were stuck looking above his face mask, drinking in the glittering pools of his irises and the blush tinged tops of his cheeks. Your tail wagged traitorously when he continued to stare back.

“What?” he huffed, smile still not leaving his eyes.

Your entire body flamed at being caught this time.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, shrinking back into the chair.

You hoped that the chair would swallow you.

“Silly thing.”

Ghost gave you a scratch behind the ears then finally slid off to join Soap. However, you weren’t left alone to your own self-deprecating thoughts. Gaz was watching you, his lips curving in amusement. He started to twirl his glass again, spinning it around on it’s axis.

“So how do you like being with the 141 so far then?”

The question caught you off guard, but you had to admit it was a welcome distraction. You unpinned your ears from your shameful, burning head and relaxed once more.

“I like it,” you said simply.

“Oh yeah? How’s staying with Ghost?”

“Oh uh, Ghost is nice. It’s been cool having my own room,” you said, smiling as you thought about your big comfy bed. “He’s been really good to me.”

Gaz snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself.

“What?” You glared. “What’s so funny?”

“Nice isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Ghost, but….” He shrugged.

“Ghost is nice though,” you frowned, body growing tense at the hint of any accusations of the contrary.

“Sure, when he’s not telling awful jokes or burning holes into your head with that stare he has,” Gaz laughed, outstretching his hands and wiggling his fingers. “I’m from Manchester and I’m gonna steal your soul with me spooky eyes.”

You giggled at his terrible impression, back unfurling from its defensive hunch, then hit his hands away playfully. Normally you would’ve worried about the repercussions of doing something like that to a superior, but the drink was still buzzing through your head and if that weren’t enough Gaz’s smile shone brightly back at you.

“Ghost isn’t spooky,” you affirmed.

“Seriously? Next you’ll tell me that you don’t live in a big haunted castle together.”

“We don’t!” You laughed.

“I bet it has skeleton decorations everywhere. Skull pillows and skeleton paintings, table and chair legs shaped into bones.”

“No!”

“Really? Damn, the man isn’t as predictable as I thought…but honestly tell me. Does he have little skeleton jammies? You can’t seriously tell me that he doesn’t keep the skull look going when he gets home. He probably sits and watches Netflix with his skull top and bottoms and skeleton cuddly toy and skeleton sockies. No? Genuinely?”

You only continued to laugh and shake your head, denying his silly accusations. Gaz smiled back at you, shifting his eyes over you as if he were cataloguing every sign of your delight.

“Oi, time for hilarities is over,” Price said, appearing through the parting crowds. “get ready to get your arses handed to ya. I got us a table”

“You sound awfully confident, Captain,” Gaz said, scraping his chair across the rough floors.

“Because I’m not drunk this time.”

“Don’t need you to be drunk to beat you. Got Pup on my team, we can’t lose.”

-🐺-

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” you murmured, flinching as the cue white ball barely even tapped the yellow ball that you were trying to hit.

Your ears pinned low to your head and your temperature grew as you looked up and down the table and failed to see how you were going to pot even a single ball at the rate you were going. When you’d watched the game being played in the past, you’d assumed it was easy, but apparently the human soldiers were just skilled at it.

Your failure was made all the worse by the fact that Gaz and Price had very dutifully stood and explained the rules and how to use the pool cue when the game had begun. In fact Price had been so thorough on his explanation it prompted Gaz to assert once again that you were going to beat his arse easy. However…

You had taken two attempts and in that time had only nudged that mockingly cheerful yellow ball once. The first attempt where you almost missed even hitting the cue ball altogether didn’t bear thinking about. Meanwhile Price had already potted four. You chewed your lip, hoping Gaz wouldn’t be too annoyed that his tutoring was apparently falling on deaf ears.

“Aw, don’t worry Pup. You’ll get it,” Price chuckled.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s your first game!” Gaz reassured

He leaned over then and zeroed in on a striped orange ball, setting his cue across the back of his roughened hand and sawing it back and forth like a wary snake. He’d taken off his brown trucker jacket at the beginning of the match, so now his arms were out in full display, practically suffocating inside the short sleeves he wore and bursting to get out. Your eyes grazed along the cue and danced between the thick hairs on the backs of his forearms and up to his biceps, mesmerised by the shifting muscle.

You missed seeing him finally hit the cue ball, but your ears twitched at the sound and your heart sunk when you both saw and heard the resulting ‘plonk’ of the orange stripe rolling merrily into its pocket. You were so screwed.

“Gonna hold back on making eyesight jokes now, Garrick?” Price questioned, already lining up his next shot.

“Only if you manage to get that blue,” Gaz winked, pointing to a ball that sat nowhere near the cueball.

“Easy, I’ll just hit the ball off the side, let it bank left and then it’ll roll into the pocket,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah, easy,” Gaz scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder. “Watch this, Pup. Captain’s about to embarrass ‘imself.”

“Oi. Keep your shit opinions to yourself!”

Gaz rolled his eyes, but nevertheless the two of you watched in concentrated silence as Price actually started to line up the shot he called. After a few tense seconds of watching him adjust and readjust once more he took a breath then whacked the ball with all the force of a train going through a brick wall. The white ball smacked into the fuzzy green side then banked just shy of the blue striped ball, rolling furiously into the pocket straight after. It landed with a heavy thunk to boot.

“Fuck me,” Price muttered to himself, immediately grabbing for his beer straight after.

“Wahey! Look at that Pup, we’ve got two shots,” Gaz said, heavily patting your shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” you laughed weakly, handing him the cue. “You got this.”

“Woah woah woah,” Gaz said, tilting his head dramatically. “We’re a team, we got this.”

“Well it is your shot.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

He shoved the pool cue back into your hands, but he didn’t step away from you after. He pressed you insistently toward the table and caged his arms between yours, taking your hands with his and adjusting them up the smooth wood. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath tickling at your neck and teasing through your hair. You stiffened up like drying clay when he moulded himself closer into you.

“Don’t freeze up like that, you’re not under attack. Look, I’m gonna show you how to hold it properly and that way you’ll get a good hit alright?”

You chanced a look back at him and caught a look into those molten honey eyes, knowing full well you were a goner. You’d just have to go with whatever he said. After giving him a gentle little nod, you swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back toward the table, allowing him to slowly arrange your body so that you were in the supposed perfect stance.

His hands were silk, gliding delicately across your arms so that you would place yourself how he wanted. You had to hold yourself back from shivering every time his touch came. Once you were standing how he wanted, he took to laughing and tutting at you until you got your finger into the correct position to support the cue, and only when that was Gaz certified did he allow you to start readying your shot.

“Ok, take it away, Pup. You got this!”

After a couple of practice slides, you drew the cue back one final time, holding your breath as you prepared to send it flying forward and into the purple ball that Gaz had lined up for you. You finally took your shot, watching with wide eyes as the cueball barrelled forward and shunted straight into the purple, sending it toward the pocket while it landed neatly beside a couple more of your balls, ready for the next shot. As soon as the purple landed fully down, you were jumping up in an instant.

“I hit it! I hit it and scored a point,” you said, full smile beaming as you turned to Gaz. “Did you see how fast it went? I wanna do that again!”

Gaz’s sharp canines were on full display again. His eyes travelled low down on your body and he chuckled, and only when you followed his eyeline did you see that your tail was furiously wagging up a storm behind you. It wafted up a big draft of air, blowing gusts through the old newspapers that were piled on the low table behind you.

“I saw. You did good,” Gaz praised, laughing while rubbing the little spot on your cheek that he always did.

“Yes, Pup - very good,” Price added dryly, shaking his head while taking another swig of his drink.

With that the newspapers behind you turned from almost the front pages, toward the nonsense stories at the back.

“What’s got you so excited, fuzzy lugs?”

You turned and saw Soap leaning over the end of the table, slowly swirling his whisky while he assessed the game. His blue eyes rolled from one end and to the other then settled on you, pinning you in place for a moment until you’d realised that he’d asked you a question. You bit your lip and shrugged, trying to downplay yourself a little as you remembered that your victory was being celebrated a little too early.

“I potted a ball,” you shrugged, trying to hide your mellowed tone with a drink.

“Oh did ye, aye? You’ll have to do it again for me and Ghost,” he grinned.

Soap motioned his head to the left, pointing toward Ghost who was taking his time wandering back to Soap’s side. You could smell the cigarette smoke cloying to him as he walked by. It made your nose wrinkle. Though you soon forgot all about it when he shot you a wink.

“Gonna show us your new skills?” He asked.

Now everyone was watching you. No pressure.

You gulped and made your way back to the table side, using your cue like a walking stick. Poking your tongue out, you stood for a second and swayed a little on your unsteady tipsy feet, thinking through your next move. Your eyes roved over the balls, moving between the two most likely candidates until you settled on the green.

After looking up and confirming everyone was still staring, you shuddered. However Gaz gave you an encouraging smile, which spurred you on all the more. A few awkward seconds passed while you tried to reform yourself into the same position Gaz put you in before. Even in your drunken state you still recalled most of the ways he’d shown that you were supposed to position yourself, all the while keeping your hands further up the stick so that you could hit harder and keeping your finger ridgid against it.

You slid it back and forth, once, then another two times and finally you made your move. The cue thwacked into the cueball and sent it rocketing into the green, sending the green ball rolling forward and flying toward the left side pocket. The ball began to lose its momentum just toward the end, it slowed just a little more and then a little more and just when your ears started to collapse downward in disappointment, it managed to creep into the pocket at the last second.

“Holy shit I did it! I did it all by myself!” You squealed, perking back up again and grinning like an idiot.

You turned, making sure everyone had seen it, but before you could take stock everyone you were surrounded by two massive chests. The pressure came quickly crushing you up like a scrapped car. Though you didn’t mind, when your panicked mind realised they were hugging you, you settled into it and wagged your tail.

“That’s my good Pup,” Ghost crooned, his voice even more gravelly than usual.

“You did so good!” Gaz whooped.

They both parted from you and just when you’d adjusted to having full lung capacity again, Soap all but whacked all the air from you with a couple of big pats on the back.

“Well done, furball,” he said lowly, throwing you a sly smile. “Knew you had it in ya. You’re my wee pack mate after all, aren’t ya?”

Your tail wagged even harder at that.

“Yes, very good,” Price barked, smiling despite the faux stern expression he tried to hold. “You taking your next turn or not, Pup?”

“I get another one?” You gawped, looking at the last few balls in awe.

“You get one every time you pot. And if you don’t get on with your next one I’m confiscating it from you.”

“Don’t think that’s in the rules, old man,” Gaz laughed.

“Gotta give myself a chance here, Garrick. You two have bloody hustled me,” Price retorted.

“Oh you think you’re hustled now? Just wait for this next turn.”

-🐺-

You helped Gaz win that game in the end, and as a reward he insisted on carrying you to the taxi on his back. Well, that’s what he intended anyway. He stumbled just as he got out the pub door and collapsed in a fit of drunken laughter. At that point Ghost took over and hoisted you up on his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

Had you been in any state to complain you might’ve, however you were still riding on a winning high and your head was full of bubbles and fizz. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tail continued to sloppily wag even while Ghost carried you, and for the rest of the night he complained about having fur in his mouth. Normally something like that would worry you, thinking you’d annoyed him, but you’d been so carefree you fell asleep on him once he’d lugged you to the sofa.

You’d woken the next morning stretched out fully over a sleeping Ghost and Soap, jumping up in mortification when you realised what you’d done and running to your bed for what felt like an extra five minutes of sleep. Then as a grand result of your wild night out (compared to anything else you’d ever done), you were exhausted the whole next day. So much so that you’d been flagging through a lot of your exercises, but luckily Ghost went easy and structured training so that you got more breaks and got easier tasks to complete. Whether that was more for you or him, you couldn’t really decide.

“Sleepy Pup,” Ghost chuckled, rubbing your cheek with the back of his greasy hand. “We’ll get an early night tonight, huh?”

You hummed in response. The sound of him cleaning his rifle had been relaxing, the cloth fibres smoothly running along the barrel while you leaned against his leg and caught up on a little napping. Normally he would send you off to do something while he did upkeep, but given your low energy he was quite happy to have you rest with him while he worked.

“Alright then, Pup. Time to head off home,” Ghost grunted, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. “We just gotta swing by Price’s office first.”

“Ok,” you said through a yawn.

Your tail crooked off to the side more than usual, and you could feel the fur on your ears sticking up like an animal that had just emerged from hibernation. Had there been a mirror around, you knew you’d be jumping back from it,though luckily that wasn’t the case. Instead you followed listlessly along after Ghost, plodding through the hallways like a mindless golem after its master.

“You ok to wait out here?”

It had barely even registered that you’d reached Price’s door. However when your mind came too, you were out in the dingy hallway that proceeded his room. The two of you standing by the chipped paint patch that looked suspiciously like someone had slammed a chunk out of the wall. You slowly nodded when you finally caught up, the joint in your neck rolling as if automated.

“Try not to fall asleep out here. I’m not carrying you again,” he chuckled. “You need anything, just knock.”

You nodded again and watched him quietly open the door and click it shut. He left you alone in the corridor, staring bleary eyed at the flickering light, absentmindedly falling back against the wall and counting out the seconds between its full beam and little strobe dance. Without fail it would flicker every five to seven seconds.

Footsteps marched down the hallway in the distance, and your ears twitched to their rhythm. The boots slapped against the floors at a quick pace, and slowly muffled voices echoed from out of obscurity and rang through your ears. The two men became clearer by the second, and before long they were crossing your path, just about to walk past you until one of them caught eyes with you and halted as if stopped by an invisible force.

“Care to explain what you’re doing leaning around like that, hybrid?” he growled.

You frowned at him. The man had dark hair closely cropped to his head, save for a small combed over patch on the top and big bushy eyebrows that fell heavy over his dark eyes. His friend meanwhile was almost completely bald, but had a striking scar across his cheek and a birthmark on his neck. Both of them seemed young, though not young enough that they were too fresh to think about messing with you apparently.

“I’m waiting for my handler to finish his meeting with Captain Price,” you said evenly, figuring it was easiest just to answer him.

He didn’t look satisfied with your answer though, his eyes lit up in challenge and his jaw twinged as if biting through bone. All traces of tiredness left you in that instant. Whatever was about to happen couldn’t be good, you were experienced enough to know that much.

“What was that?” the man said, tilting his head for emphasis.

His friend raised his brows, looking between the two with a vexed expression. He musn’t have been as familiar with hybrids, you thought dully, glancing at him while still keeping yourself focused on the combover man. If only one of them was going to be aggressive then defending yourself from whatever they were going to do would be easier.

“I said that I’m waiting for my handler,” you ground out, stiffening your posture.

“Waiting for your handler, sir,” the man corrected, his thick eyebrows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. “You have to show respect to your superior officers.”

You said nothing in response, only nodding your head once and gritting your teeth. Technically that was true, but given Ghost was a Lieutenant that meant that you likely outranked them (given that you were automatically ranked the same as your handler as a hybrid). Those assholes could kick rocks as far as you were concerned, you’d earned your right to speak on their level.

“Do you want a last chance to fix your attitude, hybrid?” he asked, tensing his arms as he leered over you.

His shadow flickered in the wavering light and you couldn’t help but think of him as a demon. His friend put a hand on his back and urged him to ‘just forget about it’, but still the man didn’t budge. He continued to loom over you and stare expectantly, though as far as you were concerned he could wait forever.

He didn’t though. The little shit, took your silence as insolence, and just when he was about to reach out and grab you, you strafed back from him and growled. The sound had the other man widening his eyes, but your main attacker only glared. It spurred him to come for you once again, but again he missed you and then failed to grab you another time after that.

“Get the fuck over here, you little-”

He reached out again to grab you, and finally he’d succeeded, clenching his hand painfully around your arm. However you weren’t going to let him manhandle you like that. You barked out a fearsome roar of defiance and dug your nails, more like claws, into the thick uncovered flesh of his arm and yanked it backward while spinning away from his grip. The yowl of pain he let out interrupted his sentence and sent his friend into a panic trying to drag the man back.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

The shout echoed out across the concrete walls and all at once you all ceased your rebuttals. Your teeth stayed bared and you continued to pant, staring down the hallway as if possessed by a vengeful force. Meanwhile the two men looked fearfully over at the source of the voice, paling noticeably when they were forced to reckon with your fearsome handler.

Your attacker gulped, loud enough that your sensitive ears picked up on it and swivelled in his direction. He flinched at the movement, but soon straightened up. The pitiful man held out his arm and set his face in a grim expression, using his other hand to motion down at the bleeding claw marks.

“This hybrid attacked me, sir,” the man said, voice far more subdued than it had been before.

Ghost raised his eyebrow from behind his mask and looked over at you. Once he’d finally assessed the state you were in, he put his body in between the two of you and set to work calming you down. He took your collar in his hand and directed you to look at him, smoothing his hand down your back and blocking your view of the perceived hostile. After which, he took to gently shushing your panting and making calming noises.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked after a few moments, smoothing his hands over your ruffled hair.

“Well, what happened was-” the man’s friend began.

“Wasn’t fucking talking to you,” Ghost growled, not even sparing a look back.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, but Ghost didn’t indulge it. He set his eyes on you with a serious frown and forced a sigh from your lips. Part of you had thought that Ghost might be on your side, but now a little voice in the back of your mind was trying to scream past a crumbling barrier - it told you that maybe Ghost was going to give up on his gentle handler act. It would make sense, you thought, you were a bad soldier, you didn’t deserve the nice treatment to begin with.

“I was waiting for you and then…I was asked what I was doing and then, when I explained myself, I was told I wasn’t being respectful enough. He tried to grab me and I fought him off,” you said awkwardly, not wanting to meet his eyes any longer.

“Sir, that hybrid was leaning around - not even waiting at attention and when I tried to address their behaviour, I was given nothing but bad attitude back. I was trying to correct it’s bad behaviour when it saw fit to scratch me up like a fucking feral cat!” The man fumed.

“Correct their behaviour?” Ghost asked, turning to man finally. “How were you going to correct my hybrid’s behaviour exactly?”

Your heart dropped into your belly. Every instinct within you screamed out that you were about to meet Ghost’s iron fist at last. You were going to experience a lashing at the very least and at worst, he might take everything you had come to care about away from you. Hot salty tears brimmed on top of your cheeks, finally overflowing at the thought that Ghost might’ve only given you all those things so that it would hurt more having them taken away again.

You made sure to sob quietly, sniffling softly into your hand so that you wouldn’t antagonise Ghost any further. Tears won’t get you anywhere in the army, mutt, Maddox’s voice chirped in the back of your mind. You almost missed the man’s pathetic whimpering answer.

“Well…I was going to give it a slap, sir. Strike some sense into it.”

“I see,” Ghost replied, wide back still obscuring the man from you.

You doubted you’d make anything out past your tears anyway. In your mind everything was in the process of being ripped out of your life again, the team were going to look at you like the disappointment you knew you were, your things were going to be scrapped and stripped down to bare essentials once more and you’d never get to feel Simon the cuddlytoy’s soft fur ever again. However you were ripped out of your little pity parade with the sound of a hard smack.

Your ears perked up and you jumped back a pace or two, looking around for the source of the noise until you looked past Ghost and saw your attacker rubbing his cheek and groaning. For a second, you couldn't quite believe what had happened, but soon enough the man was wrenching his hand away from his face in an effort to save face and it revealed an angry looking red patch of skin. It really had happened - Ghost had slapped the soldier. 2

“You think that’s knocked some sense into you, Second Lieutenant?” Ghost sneered. “Don’t you fucking dare breathe in the direction of another handler’s hybrid ever again, nevermind think that you have the right to discipline them, you self-righteous little cunt. Get out of my sight the pair of ya.”

The man opened his mouth, about to say something in his defence until his friend nodded sharply and began to drag him away. Not wanting to cause more of a scene the man relented, but the way he glared as he turned told you that this wasn’t over. There was a new target on Ghost’s back now.

However, said back was turning away from you now and Ghost was facing you once again and pulling you into his arms. After a shocked second of fear, readying yourself to be hit or similarly reprimanded, you slowly came to realise he didn’t mean to hurt you at all. He was hugging you and rubbing your back, telling you that it was alright.

“Wh- what are you doing?” you asked feebly, trying your best not to hiccup or sniff through your words.

“Trying to comfort you, if you’ll let me,” Ghost snorted, slowly walking you backward.

You walked with him, but only grew more confused as he dragged you into Price’s office and forced you to sit on the old ratty couch and curl up with him. Out of the corner of your bleary eyes you saw Price sitting at his desk and watching you both with concern, gathering up a few bottles of water onto his desk. In front of you, Ghost wrapped his grip ever tighter round you and got you to bury your head into his neck.

“It’s over now, Pup,” Ghost said softly, smoothing over your salt scorched cheek. “You’re ok.”

“But…you- aren’t you going to punish me?” you asked, freeing yourself from his hold a little and drawing away from his usually relaxing scent so that you could make an effort to think straight.

“You’ve not done anything worth punishment,” he said gently.

“I scratched someone,” you whined, looking down at your still bloody hands with a wobbling lip.

“Someone that saw fit to break protocol and try to discipline a hybrid that wasn’t theirs. You had every right to defend yourself. You’re not going to be punished for that.”

“Especially not when the punishment he had in mind didn’t fit the crime in the first place. Corporal punishment is supposed to be reserved for serious offences Pup, not for leaning or having a bad attitude,” Price added, coming to sit at your other side. “Here, take a drink of this. You need it, you’ve made yourself unwell.”

He handed you a water bottle and gave you a serious look until you finally took it from him and slowly uncapped it. Through a series of uneasy sips, your heart began to regulate and your body stopped shaking. You hadn’t even realised that you had been shaking. The realisation made you sign, taking a couple breaths until you could clear your mind enough to reach some level of proper awareness again.

“I thought it was all going to go away,” you sighed, leaning against Ghost’s chest when you knew that things were normal again.

“What was going to go away?” Ghost asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You bathed in his and Price’s joint attentions, letting Ghost rub your cheek and Price smooth a hand over your shoulders and back. For a few luxurious seconds you let yourself revel in the fact that you were wrong. The stupid little panicky voice in your head was a liar. Everything was just as it had been.

“Everything,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “I thought you were going to take all my things away and start treating me like they did at my old base. Thought I was going to be sent to the post…”

“Mark my words, anyone tries to lash you again and they’ll have the entire 141 to answer to, Pup,” Price said, voice coming through in a low growl.

“And I’d never take away your things,” Ghost vowed, cupping your cheek so that you had to look at him. “They’re given to you as payment for your service to us. They’re not for me or anyone else to take away, just like Price can’t rip my things from me. Nothing’s going away and you’re never going to be treated the way you were ever again. You’re ours, alright? We always protect our own.”

You stared at them both in disbelief, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The exhaustion and the upset combined and you were left feeling more drained than you had been in days. Instead you settled down back into Ghost’s collar bones and let yourself be petted and fussed over, sleepily letting your eyes close for the last time that day.

“Just wait till Soap and Gaz hear about this. That bastard’ll be lucky to see sunrise tomorrow,” you only just heard Price whisper darkly, before scratching a calloused hand over your ears.

“Now now, Price,” Ghost murmured back. “Gotta make it look like an accident.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

588 notes · View notes

jeannineee · 8 months

Text

Lessons

Cassian x Reader

a/n: y’all voted for Cassie’s miniseries first, so here it is :). This one isn’t angsty like Az’s so I hope y’all still like it.

This has grumpy x sunshine vibes but I’m rolling w it.

Summary: Reader has been friends w/ Cassian and IC for decades. Reader and Cassian flirt often, but it never goes beyond that…right?

Despite reader’s flirty behavior, reader has never been with anyone before. What happens when reader bites off more than she can chew?

PART TWO

warnings: none really, descriptions of smut in a book (18+ please)

“You’re brooding again,” Cassian said from where he sat in the living room, a war strategy book in hand.

“How would you know? You’re not even looking at me,” you replied, annoyed as you searched the bookshelf for a novel that might interest you.

“I don’t need to.” Cassian placed his book aside, grinning at you. “You radiate anger.”

You ignored him as you swiped a book from the shelf—romance, per usual.

Cassian stretched his arms along the back of the couch, studying you. “It’s concerning, honestly.”

You quirked a brow as you sat in the chair across from him. “What?”

“The amount of anger you have in that little body.”

You rolled your eyes, cracking open the novel as you leaned back. “I’m not little.”

“Everyone’s little, compared to me.”

“Congratulations,” you muttered, attempting to maintain your focus on the book.

It was almost impossible, given the way Cassian kept his eyes glued onto you. You hated the way your body heated under his gaze.

He’s been my friend for decades, you reminded yourself. No need to fuck that up.

“Is there any particular reason as to why you’re staring at me?” You asked, feigning disinterest.

“Is there any particular reason as to why you’re pretending to read that book?” Cassian countered, that shit-eating grin still plastered to his face.

You met his eyes. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring at me.”

His grin somehow widened. “Are you saying my handsomeness is distracting?”

You gave him a sweet smile. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m saying you’re annoying.”

“Annoyingly handsome.”

You chose to ignore him, returning your focus to your book.

Before you could react, Cassian was across the room, snatching the book from your hands. “What’s this…”

You glared, rising from your seat. “Give that back.”

Cassian merely held the book out of your reach—which wasn’t hard, given his height—and began reading lines from the book. “His strong hands gripped her thighs—“

Your cheeks blazed with embarrassment. “Cassian.”

“—and held them apart as he devoured her.” Cassian arched a brow at you, something like mischief shining in his eyes as he flipped to another part of the book.

“He thrust into her at a steady pace, relishing in the feeling of her walls—“

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Please stop.”

Cassian grinned shamelessly. “Oh, I’m only getting started, sweetheart.”

“You’re not funny.”

Cassian ignored your comment, silently reading a few more pages of the book, before closing it and tossing it onto the couch. “This is what you’ve resorted to? Smutty books, instead of the real thing?”

You crossed your arms, indignant. “Whether or not I’m getting the…real thing is none of your business.”

Cassian shrugged. “Maybe not, but—” he halted, eyes widening suddenly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you bring a male home.”

He was right. But you weren’t going to admit that.

“And when was the last time you had a female warming your bed?”

Cassian gave you a once-over. “I can have one right now, if you’d like.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

You swallowed thickly, your face heating. You and Cassian often joked like this. But his expression showed he was serious.

Cassian chuckled, smugness lacing his words. “I don’t think you could handle it, actually.”

“Would you like me to prove you wrong?”

Perhaps it was your stubbornness, or your need to always win, but the question came flying out of your mouth before you had a chance to consider it.

Cassian hummed with amusement as he took a step forward, now close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating from him, could feel his breath brushing your face.

Despite your nervousness, you didn’t back down. Instead, you held his gaze, tipping your chin up in defiance.

“You really think you can handle it?” Cassian questioned, voice low and husky.

“I’ve always been rather determined.”

Cassian flashed his teeth. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“What if I don’t want you to be gentle?”

You swore his pupils dilated at that.

Cassian leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours—

“Y/n?” Mor called suddenly from the kitchen, startling the two of you from your previous positions. “Where the hell is the coffee?”

You cleared your throat. “I should—“

Cassian nodded. “Yeah. I’ll find you later.”

You eyed him curiously. “And what exactly will we be doing, later?”

“Whatever I want to do with you.”

Heat pooled between your legs. Cassian left without another word, and as you headed off into the kitchen to help a distressed Mor, you knew you were in over your head.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #Cassian acotar #acotar Cassian #Cassian x reader #Cassian fluff #Cassian smut #Cassian angst #acosf #acowar #acofas

462 notes · View notes

ellesgreenaway · 2 years

Text

say that you miss me | eddie munson

summary: a birthday party brings eddie reluctantly back together with an old high school flame he hasn’t seen in two years.

word count: 7.7k

warnings: minors dni, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie (?), swearing, afab reader, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader initially doesn’t come off very well, use of drink and mention of drugs

a/n: i’m actually a little nervous about this one as it’s really the longest fic i’ve ever written and i haven’t really written like much in this way so please be kind to me! any feedback is really appreciated :)

“Du-ude!” Steve cries out in despair when he opens his front door, both voice and face riddled in disappointment. “I told you to comb your damn hair when it’s wet! What is this shit?”

Eddie blinks deadpan, standing frigid with a large box full of an assortment of black market priced alcohol (it was half spiced rum, clearly not much of a demand for it) with his little box of the good stuff buried deep. “I think you mean to say: Hey Eddie, thanks so much for bringing hundreds of dollars of merchandise to my party.” He replies, thick with sarcasm.

Eddie could barely hear himself speak. He had only arrived a whole twenty minutes after the said start time of the party that Steve had announced to the group (and repeatedly after for the last several days leading up to it), deemed by young person status as way too early, and yet Eddie could barely make out any other sounds apart from the dreaded sound of the popped-up excuse of rock that was overplayed on every radio station booming thickly through every wall of the (quite frankly) colossal hunk of a house Steve lived in. People were bustling in and out of rooms and collecting in rooms like it was New York City, and it immediately put Eddie on edge. He arrived early to make sure he could be scarce, not the centre of attention.

Steve rolls his eyes, taking the box of beverages from Eddie’s hands. He made sure his drug box was taken out before it was no longer in his possession. “I’m just saying man, you complain time and time again about how frizzy and knotty it gets, and when I offer you sound advice, you disregard it.” Eddie is following his friend blindly through the open plan grandeur of a home Steve finds himself lucky enough to live in, half not listening because he thinks he’s never seen a house this big before, let alone been in one. He bumps into person after person, recognising them all from high school, and it’s only a few seconds before the lump in Eddie’s throat grows ever bigger as he realises this was just an excuse to throw an informal high school reunion. It had only been months for Eddie compared to years for everyone else; he wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for this to be thrust upon him.

“And you still don’t listen!” Steve quips harshly, and the tone gets Eddie’s attention after a long while, making the metalhead roll his eyes with minimal care.

Eddie shrugs lightly, an end destination in sight as Steve sets down the worn cardboard onto a spacious wooden table, placed against the wall where an assortment of other drinks have already been placed in their regiment.

People are looking, and aren’t really making it subtle, either. They were probably just as surprised as Eddie was - what was he doing showing his face in Steve Harrington’s home? - but it seemed that, by some miracle, they were friends, so it was a heckle-free zone. As much as Steve’s reputation had dropped since he left school, he was still much more well-known than anyone else in this house. The shouts of murderer and satan worshipper were hung up at the door for one night only.

It was packed beyond belief, but when Eddie looks around him, he notices the entire bottom floor of the house is rid of personal photos, glass and anything that exceeds the value of ten dollars. Apparently, even at the ripe old age of twenty-one, Steve is still deathly afraid of getting his ass handed to him by his parents. Eddie knows he wouldn’t want that from Wayne, even if he were forty.

“When’s Robin getting here? I rarely see her without you.”

Steve seems to relieve himself of some of the party hosting stress that evidently seems to have piled on top of him throughout the day at the mention of his best friend’s name. “She came from work with me this afternoon, she’s just running an errand for me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, more in disbelief than shock, it was quite on brand for Harrington to get the whole gang involved for something so trivial as a party that will probably be filled with people he’s been dreading seeing since the day he graduated — everyone he went to high school with. Worse, people who finished high school before he did.

A small snort leaves Eddie’s nose, mindlessly fiddling with a small bowl of gummy bears that sat lonesome at the edge of the drinks table. It lay practically untouched, and he could only imagine that Robin had insisted some sort of food would be provided at the bash. Eddie was growing uncomfortable; he rarely spent time alone with Steve Harrington, and it’s never exceeded the point of awkwardness. It was teetering on the edge of such.

“I dread to think what you got that asswipe Henderson to do for this.” Eddie laughs, and it seems to have avoided the edge of that awkward ledge, as Steve chuckles along just as the door goes.

“He got home from college only last night and is currently hauling ass, borrowing speakers from Family Video to bring them here. Little dude can barely carry one of those things, will probably need Mike or some shit to help him.”

Steve opens the door to Robin, who looks annoyed as per with her friend, holding up several sheets of fax-printed paper. She walks through without even greeting the birthday boy, something that ignites a stifle of laughter from Eddie under his breath. That earned him his own greeting from Robin, throwing him a quick wave as she slams the paper down on the table.

“Did you print it all? That fax machine is crap at the best of times.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing a pointed look at Eddie as if she were asking for help. “Why did I just walk in with three sheets of paper, dingus? To hand in a college essay?”

As Eddie’s smirk gets wider, Steve’s scowl deepens, snatching the paper to his own hands, scanning it momentarily.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why you need a list to this stupid party, anyway. Everyone’s already here, this town hasn’t had a party in years.”

Hold up, now Eddie’s curiosity seems to be piqued. His head whips to where Steve stood on the other side of him, taking the paper for himself and carefully dissecting every name that was typed in several long columns.

His eyes stop tracking on one name, head whipping up to Steve. “You invited Y/N?”

Steve furrows his brows, taking a swig from a beer he had picked up from the table. “You, Eddie Munson, know Y/N Y/L/N?”

Eddie swallows thickly, eyes shifting to the floor, uncharacteristically nervous, the paper being shoved roughly back into Robin’s hands. Seeing that name gave him such an immediate rush of butterflies he thought he was going to barf, and he was sober.

“I need a drink,” Was all Eddie could respond to the question posed to him, taking the nearest liquor and pouring a quick shot. It was unfortunate, he realised as the liquid burns layers off his throat, that it was tequila, but anything to take the edge of what he was feeling right now.

Robin widens her eyes, shifting the tequila bottle away from her friend by a few metres, worried the whole bottle would be demolished before long if Eddie carries on like this. “How about we start slower, hm? Like a beer,” She replaces the shot glass with a can quickly.

Steve narrows his eyes suspiciously at Eddie; he knows his fair share of the feeling a drink could fix instead of facing a past flame, but the pairing of Eddie and Y/N doesn’t fit at all in his head. “When were you two a thing?”

Eddie screws his eyes shut; he knows he can’t really avoid this subject for long. “Senior year. My first one.”

A small but triumphant cheer leaves Steve’s lips, clearly already on the edge between tipsy and slurring, his hand coming down to clap proudly on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Didn’t take you for goody two shoes to be your type man, but then again, how I ever dated the smartest girl in Hawkins beats me.”

Cringing and deciding he was officially too sober to take part in this conversation about his past love life, he takes his belongings, eyes drawn to the garden door.

“Surely someone needs some weed by now right?” He asks rhetorically, but turns to Robin with pleading eyes, who just shrugs bemused.

So much for these new friends.

Thankfully for Eddie, half the people at this party who were already drunk and looking for a little boost to keep the night going had somehow remembered Eddie was the drugs guy, not the accused murderer guy, and a small queue had formed at the bottom of the garden as he got on with what he was used to doing the whole of highschool: living in the darkness dealing the bad stuff to the angels of society.

It was such a monotonous process, asking what was needed, sorting it out into the numerous small translucent bags, opening his hand and waiting as the exchange was made. His head stayed down the entire time, so over the game of which Hawkins sweetheart wanted an experience of the dark side. It also depersonalised it for him, made him feel less guilty for doing what he did. He knew the risks of these things, but he didn’t have a choice. Being working class and only having a minimum wage job at The Hideout meant he was the lowest of the low. Not many options are handed to a young man with no savings and only a highschool diploma to his name.

“I had always hoped that something better for you would come along apart from this, Eddie.” Lulled a sweet tone, almost dripping with it, dancing into Eddie’s ears. His head snapped up. The sweetness was all too familiar to him, something he had occasionally dreamt of in the last few years.

And yet, dreams don’t really amount to the feeling of seeing you again. Except, it wasn’t the exact replica of the young woman he had seen leave Hawkins for college. You were rougher on the edges, a cigarette balancing between your index and middle finger, the smoke of it wafting up into your hair and around your clothes.

Eddie stifles a chortle, and he can’t help the smirk line his lips like he was seventeen again, “And I had never hoped to see someone like you smoking cigarettes when you berated me for doing the same.”

You roll your eyes, flicking the thing out of your delicate fingers, letting it fall into the damp grass. It sits there on the ground for a few seconds, burning into the green until your boot comes to crush it. Now the cigarette lays limp and surrounded by the ash of its former flame.

“It’s social only. I’m not addicted.”

The adjective almost felt like a small jab at Eddie, but he brushes it off, deciding instead with a polite smile. It was all he could manage when the beating of his heart thumped heavy in his ears and throat.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” Is what he settles with, but the thing is he actually meant it. It was nice to see you, however belated it may have been. And while there was a roughness he seemed to have never seen in you before, he was pleased to see that you had finally grown into your character. You were the woman you had always strived to be in highschool: unapologetically yourself, and it almost made him swoon in admiration.

Your face softens at that second, the first bricks of the wall you had built up around herself removing one by one. It was then that Eddie sees that you hadn’t really changed, no matter how grown up you had become. That same excited and slightly naïve sparkle of your eye appeared, just as you whisper back, “You too, Munson. It’s been a while.”

A wide grin began to line Eddie’s lips, and just as he were to open his mouth again, ready to dive into a nostalgic conversation and settle into memories that he cherishes so dearly to his chest, you get a fierce tap on your shoulder - more of a jab really - causing you to turn around and face whoever was disturbing Eddie’s time with you.

Another girl, someone who looks familiar but not enough for Eddie to care, along with Nancy Wheeler, who flashed Eddie a knowing little smile, eyes shifting to you, bounced up beside Eddie’s ex, grabbing onto your shoulders enthusiastically. The move almost made you fall from the surprising weight added to her back.

The unknown friend speaks first, her jaw constantly moving up and down, a fluorescent pink piece of bubblegum the one to blame for the jarring movement smacking in Eddie’s ears. “Hey, we’re about to play some poker in the basement if you wanna join,” She whines, and Eddie sighs to himself quietly. He had only managed to have forty-five whole seconds of you to himself, and you were already in high demand for your attention. It was something that harkened Eddie back to when he was coupled with her all that time ago. The girl notices Eddie sigh, her sharp gaze shifting to him, scrutinising everything about him in just a split second. “Who’s he?”

Suddenly you grow bashful, your cheeks darkening across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, averting your eyes down to the patch of grass where your cigarette lay lifeless. Your mouth opened and closed again, the speechlessness overcoming every sense in your body.

Despite the flash of hurt that pangs Eddie’s chest, he speaks up, “I’m just the drugs guy.” He informs her with fake sincerity, one she didn’t notice as her eyes light up slightly at the opportunity struck before her to turn the party up a notch.

You flash Eddie a grateful smile, turning to your friend. “He’s not just the drugs guy,” You begin, and a match of hope lights itself in Eddie. Just say we dated, say we were a thing, a fling, anything, he begs in his mind. “This is Eddie Munson. We…We um- We went to school together. His mom used to clean my house.” You say bluntly, and the match in Eddie dies out quickly.

Suddenly Eddie is reminded why he and you never worked out in the first place; not only did you ever manage to admit to one single person that you and Eddie were together, no, scrap that, in love, with one another, but it reminded him of a time more peaceful than what he’d been through in the years since you. His mother no longer being around was the hardest pill to swallow.

Seeing the disappointment fill Eddie’s eyes, you attempt to reach your arm to Eddie, and he’s letting you, showing no signs of resistance to the attempt of comfort, but you stop yourself just short of his bicep. The hesitation is all too clear all throughout you, body and face and all, and Eddie isn’t sure how much longer he can take this. He doesn’t need to be reminded by the first (and so far only) person he ever loved to tell him through everything but words that he wasn’t good enough.

Eddie lets in a sharp breath of the late autumnal air, the release of it creating a pillow of cold air that wisps around his face. “I best clock in a break, it seems custom has dried up for now.” He announces, as usual with an air of humour laced in with it, but as his eyes shift to avoid yours, he catches Nancy’s instead, who frowns with a level of concern that was equivalent to pity, and Eddie was certainly not in the mood for that.

“Hey Eddie, come play po-” You begin to ask, but Eddie was fast leaving the garden, which has slowly become unbearably stifling despite the chill creating thousands of small goosebumps underneath the leather protection of his jacket.

That drinks table was most certainly going to be raided.

You were glad to see Eddie again, you really were - you felt like after so many years being lost and bewildered, trying to find your footing in this weird world, seeing him again felt like she became grounded slightly again. You were really home now.

“So, that’s the infamous Eddie Munson,” Mused Wendy, a friend from college who’d come home with you for the weekend, sharing with you and Nancy an exciting wide smile, almost dying to hear the words that you wanted Wendy and Nancy to play matchmaker.

Wincing, you push her animated friend off of yourself, traipsing slowly back to the house where Eddie had well by now disappeared into. It would be near impossible to find him again in all this space with so many people in it.

Nancy pulls a puzzled face to the pair of friends, “Wait, you liked Eddie too? I just thought he had a massive crush or something.”

“Huh! Liked? The girl was in love with him, Nance. Spent her entire first semester in freshman year wallowing in our dorm for no reason until I finally got it out of her.”

Nancy was even more confused by the statement, and the journalistic instinct in her begged for more information, linking her arm through yours as they carried on their walk back to the loud wall of sound. “What happened between you guys?”

You sighed, looking down at a small chip that’s appeared in her nail polish since coming to the party. As much as it was nice to see Eddie again, reliving the mistakes of your past, and making them again wasn’t something that screamed 21st birthday to you, even if it wasn’t your birthday.

Still, you knew if you weren't going to say now, Nancy would be bugging you until she gave all the details and more. At least now she had control over how much you could reveal. You hadn’t even told Wendy everything, just the basics. “We dated in senior year. I was…concerned with how we’d look together. To everyone else. I knew it wouldn’t help my social status, basically.” You admit guiltily, and you knew that Nancy was smart enough to put the missing pieces of the jigsaw together, and her eyes widen with shock and a slight disappointment when she eventually does.

It made you sting. Yeah, you weren't proud of what you did either.

“And you just…what, haven’t spoken to him since then? Senior year of highschool?” Nancy exclaims out loud, and you try not to notice the sharp daggers Wendy points at the eldest Wheeler sibling, but you shrug it off, the guilt swimming in your lungs.

It was going to drown you.

Shrugging your two friends off your shoulders, you turn to them, a fierce look in your eyes, switching between them and the sight of the dozens of college students all crammed together dancing to whatever was playing. “Will there be lots and lots of booze at this poker game?”

Wendy smirks slightly, grabbing your hand and yanking you back inside the house, the once barely distant thumps of the music (you swore it was quieter before she came out into the garden) now distinctly deafening, feeling your organs jump with you in your body in time with the beat of the tunes. Nancy wasn’t far behind, more cautious than the impulsive actions of your freshman roommate and much more aware that there were other people attending too, but the busyness of the atmosphere has you not thinking straight.

That and the fact that Eddie Munson was at any given place in this house right now.

Approaching the drinks table where they earlier dropped off a polite bottle of wine (it had already been drunk), Wendy grabs three clean plastic shot glasses, reaching for the half-empty bottle of tequila standing nearest to her.

Nancy screws her face up, waving her hand in near total dismissal.

“Oh my God Wendy, you’re trying to kill me. I need a chaser if I’m gonna be forced to shot that.”

Laughing with an almost cynical undertone, Wendy raises the shot glass right under both Nancy and your noses. Both of you share the same look of dread.

“I know none of these small-town Indiana dorks apart from you two, so if I’m gonna have a good time, you’re gonna get wasted with me and we mess around, ‘kay?”

Well, you couldn’t really disagree with that doctrine.

Flinging back shot after shot, the music went from thumping and slightly unbearable beat of the music to danceable and you were even almost starting to enjoy it. You danced with your friends, well, it was dancing in their eyes, squashed among the dozens of people that amalgamated in Steve Harrington’s living room, and although the three of you were panting as you danced, the back of their necks collecting beads of sweat that eventually dripped down your necks, tickling your spines. It had been nice, for once, you thought as you waved your arms around in the crowd, grinning madly at your two friends, that you were able to fully enjoy yourself without consequence. Usually, you had practice in the morning, or study group, or you wouldn’t even be out, writing an essay until the early hours of the morning instead.

There was a slight sadness in your eyes as you danced, too. You might have been drunk and dancing like no one was watching, but she still felt the trickles of dread as the regret you had felt for the whole of freshman year for Eddie had returned in full force.

You were feeling small tears prick the back of your eyes; it came on suddenly, like a big wave at sea that looked small at first but was actually going to swallow you whole, and the dancing came too to a sudden stop.

You swallow thickly, patting your purse around your shoulder to make sure her cigarettes were packed away. “I’m um— I’m going to go for a quick smoke break, ‘kay?” You shout over the throbbing bass, and luckily your wave of emotion came at the right time, both Nancy and Wendy agreeing they’ll meet you in the basement game of poker Jonathan, Robin and Steve were at.

The lighter came in contact with the cigarette as soon as you had stepped outside, and you had never been so grateful to take a puff from something you tolerated at the best of times, walking over to a step at the side of the house, letting the cool air gently penetrate your burning skin.

When holding the stick of tobacco between your two fingers, your mind once again goes to Eddie. How he brought up the fact you told him off as much as you could whenever he smoked one of his own, and how much it was true. The memory brought a bittersweet chuckle past your lips, slightly curved from the nostalgia.

You heard the sound of feet dragging against the pebbles of the driveway behind you, and you weren’t very surprised to see Eddie approach you, his trademark smirk painting his mouth, but it was more subtle than usual.

You throw him a wobbly smile, suddenly feeling the need to put the cigarette out again, so desperately insecure of doing anything remotely bad around him. Eddie, of all people, but you knew it was because these were all things you never would have done in highschool.

He was going to walk past you, step over her tight-clad legs and carry on his journey to what looks like his van, just a few metres off in the distance, but a thought bubbles up in your mind, and you knew it would bug you forever if you didn't ask there and then.

“Do you have regrets?” You ask, just above a whisper but not quite talking at a normal volume. You were nervous to ask.

Eddie turned around, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity at you. He likes to think he still knows you well enough to know that this isn’t brought on from random drunk thoughts, but he also knew he couldn’t just ask outright what got you asking questions like this. Not anymore, anyway.

He begins to walk back, standing over her just centimetres away, his eyes studying your face, which was turned down to the ground, your lips pursed desperately around the cigarette that was nearly out, looking at you drain everything you could out of it. He decides to perch next to you, leaving a big enough gap that it was considered appropriate. “Regrets about what? Mine are sorted into categories, you know.”

You smile, puffing out a laugh from your nose. “I dunno, like…Do you ever regret not going to college? For not passing senior year first time? All those little things that you could have changed, could have altered to make that slight little bit of improvement, but you just…didn’t?”

Eddie thought about your question, lighting a cigarette of his own while he pondered. “I could’ve, yeah. I could have done all that shit, got a degree, left this town, maybe studied something I knew I would be good at. But, ah, I don’t know. I don’t think there’s any point in wasting my energy on the what ifs. I have shit I gotta deal with now, today, and that takes up enough as it is,” He inhales deep, getting lost in his thoughts while looking at you. He had never seen you so troubled, not even when you two broke up. “I feel like I could have done better, a lot of times, but do I regret it? Rarely.”

You don’t really respond, just sniff and look away again, your hand drawing through your hair delicately, but it was like it was bothering you. Everything seemed to look like everything was bothersome in a way.

“My turn,” Eddie declares, feeling like this was the only way to find out what was wrong with you. He wasn’t even thinking about the fact that he hadn’t seen you in two years, or that forty-five minutes ago he wanted to be anywhere but around you. The need to act like your support dial had overwhelmed him like an instinct. This was natural. “You have never felt the need to feel regret once in your life, sweetheart.”

“Not a question.” You point out.

Eddie chuckles, holding his finger up to you, “Patience, I’m getting there,” And suddenly you turn to him, your body strong and straight, but eyes are full of worry for whatever he could possibly ask. He hopes you know him well enough to still guess it’s probably to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering you. “So you’re obviously regretting something, what is it?”

You huff heavily, and Eddie could sense your walls were going up, defending yourself from the vulnerability and insecurity you once gave herself willingly to with Eddie. You shuffled away one inch. “I haven’t seen you in two years, Munson. You can’t expect me to tell you all my worries and fears like we’re still together.”

Eddie feels the need to remind himself to be patient, swallowing thickly. He can’t help but trick himself into thinking this, looking at you, the moonlight twinkling in your eyes, making you look so ethereal with your beauty.

“You asked first, sweetheart, don’t pretend you don’t miss talking to me.” He replies, but it just seems to have frustrated you more. Eddie knows it’s not frustration directly at him, your frustrated with herself.

You look at him, eyebrows crossed, a crease diving the two of you. “So what? I— ugh! Everything is so fucking complicated!”

“With me?”

“Yes!” You cry, and you’re stood now, pacing up and down the little alley created at the side of Steve’s house. “But no, too. I…seeing you tonight has just thrown me off, that’s all. I…I can’t think straight.”

“Ah, so that’s why to your friends I’m still Eddie, a friend whose mom cleaned for your mom?” He asks, and it was petty, he knows, but the stings of pain just couldn’t help but trickle their way into the conversation. All he ever wanted from you was to just admit that you were both in love, even if it was once upon a time.

You crumple your fists as if you were containing all your anger in there, but when your head throws up to look at Eddie, who’s also stood up by now, your eyes are full of nothing but apology.

“Come on Eddie, you know I never meant that. And…And you always meant more than that to me. So did your mother. She was like family to us.”

Eddie huffs, and the dread returns to him like a bad sickness. He realises tonight, seeing you for the first time in months and months that really, he never got over you. You matter as much to him now and as you did when you were seniors sneaking around, but the insecurity fills his chest when he explores the thought that you could ever have felt the way he did.

Maybe he was too drunk. God knows you were too.

“I think I’m just gonna conduct business from my van for the rest of the night. Enjoy the party, Y/N.” He says defeatedly, walking to his van and expecting his old flame to walk in the opposite direction.

But you didn’t. You didn’t walk away, not this time.

“Well what do you want me to do, Eddie? Take back the past?! That’s impossible!” You ask as you follow him to his van, your hands flying around your face wildly. There were tears glassing over your eyeballs, and no matter how mad at you he is for hurting him, for making him feel every bit like he didn’t deserve to be loved, Eddie’s chest still tightened when he saw you like this. You run your hands through your hair again, practically ruining it, sniffing roughly. “I loved you, I loved you like I’ve never loved anyone else before…and yeah, I couldn’t say it out loud when I was seventeen, and I’m sorry, I really am,” You’re looking at him dead in the eye now, any hesitation or resistance he had seen earlier in the night now completely gone, and Eddie feels a change in the electricity around the two of you when he looks back, “but you can’t punish me forever. I’m done being punished, Eddie. If you wanna move on so badly, do it.”

He thinks you’ve said this because you know deep down that the daring words that drip from your tongue edge Eddie to stay, do the complete opposite of what you’ve offered him. You’re not dumb, you’ve probably noticed the way that ever since you asked him that question at the side of the house that he’s inched closer to you with every word shared between you, nice or not. You can probably smell the mix of musky wood from his cologne and the ashy taste of cigarettes that permanently linger in his mouth, just as he can smell the sweet floral tones of your perfume, a mix of flowers and soap.

You have seen to finally have given him an out. It should have felt relieving.

Yet Eddie just couldn’t back away. He hesitates a scoff, low and scowling, tired of arguing but he has no other way to talk to you right now without wanting to just take your face in his hands and kiss those plump glossy lips of yours. “You still couldn’t even admit we were even together. We’re twenty now. Hell, almost twenty-one. Three years on and you can’t admit it!”

You’re bashful, looking down to the concrete driveway. “I don’t want them to give any more excuses to constantly pick at you.”

“Them?”

“This batshit crazy town, Munson! What do you think people will do when they find out we dated, huh? They’ll tear you apart, think you corrupted me or put your bullshit claims of satanism onto you, and I can’t help you! I’ll be in Emerson!” You say, the tear falling loose from your eye and trailing down your cheek.

Eddie blinks at you, the act of anger slowly washing away on his features. “You heard about everything then, huh?”

“I think I spent my whole summer telling people to go fuck themselves for thinking someone who likes metal and plays a kids fantasy game was capable of murder.” You says with a nervous chuckle, and Eddie’s heart rises to a flutter, staring at you with contentment, and a reminiscent reminder of the way he used to look at you when you were together; with total infatuation.

Suddenly Eddie was stuck.

He was stuck because he had finally been given an opportunity to move on from you, try and forget your face as he lived your life and you carried on with yours in Boston, but he doesn’t think he had ever imagined a more beautiful thought than thinking about you telling a stranger making comments about Eddie the murderer to do one.

He stays stuck while looking at you, leaning against the back door of his van, head staring at the cold night sky, exposing your neck, your chest heaving up and down from the exhaustion of their argument. Eddie couldn’t stop staring, momentarily parting his lips and wetting them with his tongue.

He steps closer to you. It was only one small step, barely stretching his legs before your thighs touched his. You look down again to look him in the eye once more, but differently than before, you’ve noticed the change in air, too. You noticed the way Eddie has his lips slightly parted, his chocolate doe eyes are blown open, pupil swallowing the colour almost entirely. His hand is inching closer to your cheeks, and when his palm eventually comes into contact, you feel singes of his burning hot touch, almost like fire, and it alights a small gasp from your lips, a sound that roars Eddie’s determination to life.

His thumb lowers, tracing delicately down your cheek until it reached the corner of your lips, slightly chapped and the gloss drying in odd places, all the while keeping the fierce hold of your eyes that made you soften and pant harder in anticipation.

A small smirk quirks one side of Eddie’s mouth. He has you right where he wants you, ready for him to launch onto you and get back to what you used to do in highschool, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just yet. “I would kiss you,” He begins, voice low and grumbling a little with the whisper, “But you might not want everyone else to know your pretty little mouth likes kissing the freak of Hawkins.”

Immediately you roll your eyes, your own hand cupping Eddie’s cheek. You take the majority of the leap, their lips in contact but not kissing when you ever so slightly take your back off the van door.

“You kiss me right this second, Munson, or I tell everyone that you cried watching Grease.”

He stifles a snort, smirk only growing wider. “We can't be having that, can we? I have a reputation to think about.”

When their lips finally connect, Eddie feels like he’s truly on fire everywhere, the touch of your lips igniting a burn that’s travelled through every vein in his body. It’s like his body has woken up again after years of being asleep, a jolt of energy surging through his nerves, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

Eddie’s hands instinctively slide onto your waist as the kiss deepens, your mouths open, tongues playing with one another desperately. It was messier than Eddie had ever imagined, and definitely less romantic, but when you settle your arms around his neck, pulling on the hairs at the nape, any coherent thought about his dream reunion with you goes out of the window.

It’s possibly minutes before you finally disconnect, silently making out at the edge of a party like the teenagers they once were when you were together, but you never lose contact, your lips peppering kisses constantly on his lips and around them. Eddie is distracting himself putting his hands under your top, the cold of his hands against the warmth of your belly eliciting a high-pitched whine from you, and it’s a noise Eddie is familiar with.

It had been too long since he heard that heavenly sound.

You seemed to have kicked your thinking brain in, taking Eddie’s face between your hands and taking his lips off your neck. “Do we really wanna do this again? I…I don’t want you to beat yourself up for this.”

Eddie throws her a lust-filled smile, but the question of concern has his heart fluttering. “What did I tell you about me and regrets, darling?”

You throw him a grateful smile, but you still hold him with hesitancy. Oddly though, it’s a different kind of hesitancy than what he’s used to. He throws you a questioning look, and you sift his chocolate waves through your hands when you give in. “I want you to know that I always regretted the way I handled things with you. Because the love I felt for you…the love I feel for you, I never went about it the right way.”

Now the insecurity and fear has left Eddie, because as he looks at you, his hands enveloped in yours and flush against your sternum, trying not to think about those tits he’d missed so much swallowing half the conjoined hands as they squeezed together, he’d finally felt like he understood her side after all this time. You were just as insecure.

“Let me show you then, sweetheart,” He pleads quietly, pressing kisses to each corner of your mouth, “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Happily relenting, you flush your lips against his, connecting once more, but this time it felt more comforting to the both of them, like coming home at long last. It wasn’t long before your mouths opened for one another, Eddie’s tongue in your mouth and sucking your bottom lip as you mewled in response. His cock twitches when he hears you make those noises, thinking he’d never hear them again yet here he was, against the back door of his van with his lips attacking yours, and your hips pressing into his crotch, making him grunt in response.

“Fuck Eddie,” You pant, already breathless when your lips aren’t on Eddie’s for three long seconds, and Eddie wants to throw his head back if it weren’t for your hands tangled in his hair. “As much as I’m happy to show everyone how much I love me a bit of Eddie Munson, this is a bit public for me.”

Eddie feels himself smirk into your neck, travelling down and he feels his chin touch the top of your tits, and he tilts his head down to kiss them gently. The traces of fingers and fiddling of clothes that so desperately want to be taken off but can’t in the open driveway with random people walking in and out of the house. Your touch feels like feathers along Eddie’s skin, and it makes him just want you more with every growing second.

He accidentally bumps your temple as he grabs onto the back door handle that stood beside you, opening it roughly. “Get in the back sweetheart,” He says lowly, taking his hands and putting them on your waist as he gently hoists you into the back. It was a place of small haven for the both of you, and the reason why Eddie always kept his van so clean compared to everything else he owned.

When you’re in you hold your hand out for Eddie to get in himself, giggling when he shuts it and takes hold of your waist again, finding it impossible to stay away from it, his fingers dancing delicately up your top, slowly making its way up your ribs and to the underwire of your bra. Your small gasp of surprise only encourages Eddie further, his hand reaching to the top of your bra and pulling your tits out, taking your nipple between his fingers and rubbing slowly, your head throwing back to the side of the van as you moan with more vigour, mouth open agape as you breathe heavily.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re always so noisy for me,” He groans, pinching your nipple for a high-pitched cry, which you gave him with no resistance. His cock lays stiff in his jeans, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s able to wait before he cums in his pants, so his other hand snakes down to where your tights and knickers scantily cover your pussy, rubbing over your clit and hearing you cry out into the crook of his ear.

He does that for a few seconds, switching between making sure each breast sat peaked and awake for him while running your clit, the wetness of your pussy quickly bleeding through the thin layers that protected you, his hips rutting against your thigh as he groans in every rhythmic motion of his hips. Your lips are always on him somehow, and just as Eddie feels like he’s going to burst, feeling his orgasm starting to bloom, his hands travel to your ass, cupping your cheeks in his hands and squeezing before he huskily asks you to jump, your legs wrapped around his waist while you work on getting your tights off, leaving them stretch just below your knees.

Eddie drags his lip between his teeth when he looks down to your panties, the large spot of wet ever so distinct to him, even in the pitch black darkness of the night.

Finally deciding to relieve himself, Eddie uses the one hand he’s not using holding onto you to take his belt off and undo his zipper, moaning with volume as he takes his cock between his hands, squeezing at his base lightly, all the while staring at you, your eyes filled with intense arousal.

“Fuck me, Eddie, please,” You whisper, your forehead resting against his in a sweet manner of intimacy in the heat and sweat of the activity you were both partaking in.

He drags his cock slowly against the thin layer of panties, your moan making him twitch even in his hand.

“I— shit, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart, if you say that you miss me,” He says thickly, his fingers toying with the edge of your knickers.

Forehead still on his, you kiss his cheek gently, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth and then to his lips when you reply, that twinkle in your eyes returned and brighter than ever in the darkness of the back of Eddie’s van. “I miss you Eddie. Jesus fuck, I’ve missed you every day. Not one day I didn’t think about you.”

He seems satisfied with the answer, kissing gently on your lips while he puts your panties to one side, delicately prodding your hole with his finger, and you clenched around him perfectly, dripping wet and waiting for his cock to fill you up all the way.

You both moan loudly when Eddie ruts his hips up, thrusting all the way. He swore he’d never forget how perfect you feel, how you managed to always fit him just perfectly, the right fit for him, but with him inside you once again for the first time in a few tears, it’s like a memory that had come to life once more.

He thrusts with a consistent confident pace, your mouths conjoined to silence the sounds of panting and morning as the van rocked back and forth as he fucked you against the sound of the van, your hands occasionally pulling on his hair when he ruts deeply to your sweet spot.

When you throw your head to the side, your moans getting more pant-like and heavy, and Eddie remembers your queue that you were close, and he was determined not to cum until he had satisfied you entirely.

“Come on baby, I know you wanna come for me. Miss me—fuck, miss me so much you’ll be such a good girl and cum just for me, yeah?” He grunts, his speech coming in time with his thrusts, and your loud moan in response tells him you’re close, really close, his thumb coming to massage circles onto your clit once more.

You moan again, tugging on Eddie’s hair, “I’m gonna cum Eddie.”

He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, “Cum then, sweetheart. Make me proud,” And it undoes your knot, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami wave, Eddie feeling himself come undone just when he feels your juices drip down his cock and onto the thighs of his jeans, riding out his high with you by rocking gently, slowly coming to a stop when your moans run out and you tiredly hang your head into Eddie’s neck.

Kissing you once again when he pulls out, a whine of sensitivity leaving your mouth, he pulls your knickers and tights back up, stuffing himself back into his jeans before taking your hand and sitting you down on the small black loveseat he had bought for the band whenever they had practice.

Your head rest against his shoulder, hands mindlessly playing with the zip of his leather jacket while he strokes the top of your hair, pressing occasional kisses into it.

“I meant what I said, you know.” You whisper into the silent air, the van thick and muggy and smelling of sweat and sex that should have been enough to get Eddie out, but he was too tired to care. “I miss you everyday. And I-I fucked up, I know, but I wanna try again, with you,” You sat up now, looking at Eddie straight in the eye. “If you’d let me.”

Eddie smiles, full of love and adoration, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles as if they were made of gold. “I’d be stupid if I let the love of my fucking life get away from me like this again.”

tagging some people i love!

@will-on-the-internet @prettyboyeddiemunson, @benedictscanvas @indouloureux @lilacletter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ansgt #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #stranger things fic #ruby writes

4K notes · View notes

estrellami-1 · 8 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

Steve gets home and enters into chaos.

The older teens are nowhere to be found—Steve hopes they’re still in the shed—but the boys are arguing, pointing first at sheets on the table, then each other.

“No, you dumbass-”

“Oh, I’m the dumbass? I’m the one who forgot oxygen?”

Steve sighs. “Always the damn babysitter,” he mumbles to himself, fighting a smile. “Alright, cut it out!” He says, loud enough to be heard over the arguing. Immediately, everyone turns to him. He crosses his arms and nods at them. “What’s going on?”

Immediately they’re all talking over each other, doing their best to give Steve a headache. He sighs and raises a hand, and slowly they all peter off. “One at a time. Lucas?”

Lucas sighs. “We’re still trying to figure out the best way to weaponize fire down there.”

“And you’re disagreeing on something?”

“Yeah, we all think it would be best to do it different ways.”

Steve nods. “Write down a list of all the pros and cons you can think of. Pass the lists around in case you’ve forgotten something. When they’ve all been passed around, compare them together. But please, if it’s at all possible for you, do it quietly. If for no other reason than El’s still resting.”

“Oh,” Mike says quietly, and they all get to work, scribbling out their lists.

Steve sighs and scans the rest of the room, smiling when he sees Eddie leaning on the doorway. “Hey. Wanna help me bring stuff in?”

“Sure,” Eddie shrugs, and follows him out. It’s silent for a few moments before he speaks. “Y’know, a part of me was hesitant to believe everything until just about three minutes ago.”

Steve chuckles. “It does sound crazy,” he agrees. “What changed your mind?”

“You,” Eddie says simply, like it doesn’t send Steve’s heart jackrabbiting in his chest. “The way you are with the kids.”

Steve chuckles. “Y’know that’s the very reason we started to get along, before?” He glances at Eddie as he shuts the trunk. “We saw how we were with them. We were both a little jealous of each other, mainly cause of Dustin. I swear, he was always going on about Eddie this, Eddie that, greatest Dungeon Master ever but don’t tell Will, and… I started to feel like I was being replaced.” He smirks. “Course, then you told me how he practically worshiped me, and I realized Dustin’s just being a shithead.”

Eddie snorts. “From what I’ve seen of them, that does seem pretty accurate.”

“I know this probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I’m glad you’re here.” He smiles at Eddie and walks inside, giving Eddie a second alone outside.

He almost runs into Robin as he turns the corner, steadying himself, the bag, and her. She looks up at his face, wide-eyed, then slowly morphs the look into a judgy one.

“What?”

“Quit breaking his brain, Dingus, let him actually like you as a person first.”

“How the hell could you tell that from my face?”

She gives him another supremely judgy look. “Have you forgotten I’ve known you for years? Steve,” she sighs, taking the bag from him. He lets her. “Don’t forget this is four years ago for them. At this point, does he even know who Chrissy is?”

“Okay,” Steve admits, “you may have a point. But we had a breakthrough just now! We were talking and he said he believes me because of how I am with the boys!”

Robin sighs again. “And did you respond with something that happens in the future?”

Steve splutters. “How do you do that?”

“I’ve known you for years, Stevie-boy, don’t forget.” She ruffles his hair as she passes. “Leave the future out of it,” she advises. “Live in the now.”

“Kinda hard to do, considering we’re here to change the future,” he says, just to be contrary. She gives him a look like she knows what he’s doing.

“Talk to him like you’re getting to know him for the first time, Steve. Because that’s where he is. Everything about the Upside Down, and even the kids… that’s all secondary. You got along because your personalities match. Give them a chance to.” She smirks at him. “And maybe show off a little bit of that Harrington charm I know is in there somewhere.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “You’ll see one day, Robs, I’ve got game.”

She grins, ruffling his hair one last time before dancing out of reach as he squawks at her. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Dingus.” She leaves, bringing the bag into the other room, and he sighs and follows her, wondering—not for the first time—how he ended up with her as a best friend.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

441 notes · View notes

ao3commentoftheday · 4 months

Note

This is my reluctant fandom rivalry story. It’s long. Please bear with me.

A couple years ago I got into a major (read: very active) fandom. I wrote a few fics, then began what would become my longest WIP to date. That WIP generated a lot of interest, and as the smut escalated, I started getting more engagement with a fic than ever before – especially after posting a scene in which the characters finally hook up, in a very kinky and unexpected way. While working on this story I was following the work of other writers, and at one point a certain author who is pretty prolific and well-established in the fandom posted a finale to a work that they hadn’t updated in a long time.

Seeing as how this work featured an uncommon ship dynamic for the pairing I write for – which my WIP also featured – I was interested to read this particular work. Then, when I got to their newly-added finale, I was astonished: it featured a scene that very closely paralleled the hook-up smut scene that I had just posted about a week or so prior, to a startling degree of similarity. So here were two characters in a very specific relationship dynamic—ages differing from canon—who were hooking up in the exact same way as my characters (also of this age/dynamic), down to the very same environment and scene context – the same uncommon blocking; same uncommon smut scenario – in a way that I’d thought was highly original when I wrote it (I haven’t seen anything like it before or since), and posted very close behind when mine was posted! The author even went out of their way to say that they’d actually written that scene “months ago,” and were only just getting around to finally posting it… /: *suspicious eyes*

You can see where I’m going with this.

While not exactly plagiarism per se, that author received a tremendous amount of positive feedback from their many followers, while my chapter received a comparably modest response (though still very positive by my own standards, being so new to the fandom). I also worry that a good number of shared readers had encountered the other [popular] story, first, then caught up with mine after, only to wonder if I had copied the other author (unless they bothered to go into “chapter index” -> “full page index” to confirm publication dates, it would’ve looked like mine came after once I posted the next chapter).

I decided not to confront them about it, though. There was no way I could prove that it wasn’t “parallel thinking,” even if it would make for a very odd coincidence. The wording was not the same, but it was structured very closely to what I’d written, including certain spicy details. I didn’t want to stir up drama in a new fandom, especially with such a popular author, lest I inadvertently alienate myself.

But here’s the thing: I decided to just be flattered that my work had "inspired" theirs, and I tried to get past any lingering resentment by befriending them. Left kudos and the occasional nice comment on their work. Followed them on tumblr. Liked/RB’d their posts. But they steadfastly ignored me completely, for reasons I can only guess at. We have many common mutuals and they never like/reblog even my most popular posts (though these must cross their dash), though they will promote similar posts by anyone else.

Over a year later, I’ve continued to follow this author’s work, keeping an eye out for other “coincidences” (though it’d be very ballsy of them to "borrow" from me again, since my work is more widely read now). Meanwhile, I have risen in popularity, myself, and while still not as popular as that author, I’m very proud of my own contributions to the fandom, and feel that my writing is a lot stronger than theirs. So I really shouldn’t let it get to me, but seeing them around all the time, being praised for their mid-level works and interacting with so many of my mutuals (while giving me the cold shoulder) still rankles me. Recently they even posted something about showing common courtesy by not stealing others' work in fandom, etc. that really rubbed me the wrong way. I stewed over it for way longer than is healthy.

Any advice on how to navigate this one?

I want to enjoy my time in this fandom, but their ubiquitous, icy presence and my own lingering paranoia casts a pall over my experience.

This is one of those situations where you either need to confront them directly and let the chips fall where they may or you need to block them on every platform you share and pretend they don't exist.

You can't seem to get past what happened in the past, but you're also not talking it out with them. That means that you're stuck where you are until something changes. That thing is either messaging them directly or removing them from view.

Do not write a callout post. From what you've outlined here, you have a suspicion with no solid facts one way or the other. Writing a public post will just create fandom drama and having been tangentially involved in that before, do. not. recommend.

Personally, I think you need to evict them from your mind because they've been living there rent free for too long. But that's just my opinion. What do the rest of you think?

You can also find this ask mirrored over on Dreamwidth.

#asks and answers

222 notes · View notes

velteris · 3 months

Text

I’ve seen a fair amount of posts complaining about this arc in Frieren and… we are all entitled to our own opinions etc which is why I will be launching into a Defense of Frieren’s Exam Arc :) Keeping it manga spoiler free since it seems like most of these complaints are from anime-only viewers.

For me the main draw of this arc is the world building. We’ve spent all this time with Frieren and Fern as our main perspectives on magic. Because it’s Frieren, the magics we’ve been hearing about have mostly been a little silly and sweet. But now we’re finding out that 1) “mage” is largely still a combat designation, and 2) Frieren and Fern are actually incredibly jack-of-all-trades when it comes to their magic repertoire. The “magic is visualisation” part is starting to be really leant into and we’re seeing more humans as well who seem to specialise in one magic (steel flowers, rocks, clones, ice and water…) It’s cool!! It’s objectively cool! I love being able to see this range that we wouldn’t have had otherwise! Also it’s fucking fantastic to see how much of a BEAST Fern really is when compared to other human mages. And she doesn’t even seem that aware of it.

Coupled with that is being able to see different people’s philosophies toward magic. I think a lot of viewers are kind of down about the sudden huge influx of side characters who they don’t really care about. But these philosophies—Land’s maximum wait-and-watch, Wirbel and Ubel’s vastly different approaches to killing—keep expanding the world and highlighting Frieren and Fern’s own perspectives. It’s soooo good seeing them react to situations not of their own making and people not of their own kind.

We get to see human society that isn’t a village in the middle of nowhere! We get to see Frieren being forced to socialise! We get to see Fern away from her emotional support elf! We get to see how society has changed since the demon king was defeated! I love that Himmel and co ushered in an era of peace, which it is, and yet the world is still full of conflicts. Truly the story continues after the hero is finished.

To address a few specific complaints I’ve seen brought up:

Frieren isn’t about all these nonstop shounen fights.

Agreed! Which is why it’s cool as hell that Frieren’s main badass shounen strategy is “sit very still for 10 hours”. That aside? There actually hasn’t been much actual fighting. You could probably count up the minutes in which actual spells are being cast and it’ll be something like 2 minutes max in the latest ep20. And that’s because it’s not about who beats who, it’s about the philosophies, the worldbuilding, the ways of thinking about magic. This is not a power-measuring contest, much as Genau would like to make it. And the random lucky draw-ness of the Stilles only plays further into that. It is possible to pass this exam without coming into conflict with others, and certainly without battles to the death. It hasn’t ever been about the shounen fights.

The good part of the show was about the delicate melancholy and that’s totally missing here.

I agree that it’s one of the strong points. But the thing with the melancholy is that it only works when juxtaposed against other moments. A story that’s composed of a bunch of unlinked wistful slice-of-life episodes will eventually fall apart because it has no momentum, no driving force. And ten years to Ende is too long to go without at least some conflict. Also, again, ten-hour bird meditation session?

Anyway, there’s melancholy, but how sad it would be if there was nothing but introspection and wistfulness. Frieren is bringing the memories of Himmel forward with her into the future. That means she has to be moving forward, forging new relationships with unrelated people, going into situations that she hasn’t been in before. A Frieren stuck in the past would be against the themes of the show, of remembering and yet moving on.

Why should I care about them spending ages trying to catch a bird?

You don’t like Stille? 🐤 fweet?

Actually I care lots about this funky thing. Indestructible and goes supersonic fast. That’s fucking hilarious. Bird that simply cannot be contained. Genau is a dick for setting up this kind of exam when, Your Honour, my client Stille does not deserve to be imprisoned.

Too many irrelevant side characters who it’s hard to care about, and they’re gonna be thrown away at the end anyway.

Again, it’s the worldbuilding. And also, mild spoilers for stuff that won’t be covered in the anime, but at least one of these side characters does come back and we get more delicious main character development as a result. Though frankly many of these characters are deeply compelling and interesting to me so I don’t rly get this complaint. Give me more Lawine.

Where’s Himmel? What do these exams have to do with the hero party? Frieren is good because of the links to the past.

Frieren is good because of the links to the past, which affect how Frieren responds to the present. The whole point of Frieren is that Frieren’s life continues. And through her new experiences, she comes to understand and reconnect to the emotions she didn’t realise she felt about her past. I don’t care what Himmel would think of the mage exams, I care what Frieren thinks of them now. And the answer is that she doesn’t really give a damn but she’s in here anyway because Fern strongarmed her into it, and then she was forced to adopt two more kids along the way, and all of that is something she never would have done if she was still hermiting in the Central Lands. Somehow we are still getting Himmel flashbacks anyway? So? He’s still haunting the narrative guys. Just because Frieren isn’t saying “that’s what Hero Himmel would do” out loud in these circumstances doesn’t mean his ghost isn’t here.

Even so, Frieren clearly recognises the name Serie. Do not fear. There is going to be more about links to the past.

I miss Stark.

Fair enough. It’s okay, he’s just on vacation rn. Having an appy juice.

It’s taking too long. The arc is too slow.

It’s only been three episodes… I’ve seen people going “it’s already been three episodes!” but what? Really? Is that considered an excessive amount of time now?? Given the amount of story covered I think it’s quite reasonable? There’s still 8 episodes to go in which we cover the remaining exam stages. Have some patience like Frieren. The payoffs are being set up; they’ll resolve before the end of the mage exam arc. In the meantime, let’s enjoy theorising about the soft magic system and hollering for full auto Fern.

#frieren #sousou no frieren

156 notes · View notes

sunflowergraves · 1 year

Text

Unpacking Will Solace’s Character

I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as.

It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well.

Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left?

I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim.

Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best.

Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open?

As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard.

Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone.

Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book.

First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable.

In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable.

Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there.

Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot.

Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.

Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw.

This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico.

I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you?

Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore.

Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking

People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?

Will was not useless.

Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough?

“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No.

I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training.

Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess.

Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky?

I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx.

My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered.

Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life.

Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo.

It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s?

Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops.

He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him.

Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet.

So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing.

Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book.

#solangelo #will solace #tsat #tsats #tsats spoilers #will literally deserves so much love #he's an anxious nerd who wants to watch star wars and kiss his boyfriend

710 notes · View notes

readerwithsalt · 1 year

Text

Sun and the Star Review: (With snippets from the book)

Since I just finished The Sun and the Star I’m just gonna say the first thing I have a problem with is the TELLING and NOT SHOWING.

• And I was wondering if anyone thought that they made Will super lame and ooc compared to previous cooler depictions of him. Like he’s supposed to be Super Chill under pressure and the Calm Dude but he’s so WHINY the entire book. He’s constantly complaining, judging, screaming, crying or sleeping. The cool, chill vibe Will had before is gone which was one of the things I liked about him before.

• someone else said ‘Tsats Will thinks there’s something wrong with Nico, something wrong with his personality. Will thinks Nico needs to be “fixed” and “healed” and so he can be “normal” and then Nico will be actually appealing to Will. Tsats Will may love some parts of Nico (or at least thinks he loves some parts of Nico). But there are more parts of Nico that Will finds unsavory or unnerving or scary or unsettling or unsatisfactory or unappealing’ I agree sadly

• Like he tells Nico in the beginning of the book that he’s just as capable of survival as Nico (which I snorted at cause no) and then is the hugest burden I’ve ever seen on a quest EVER in a riordan book. Like Nico tries to lift Will up every time he passes out from ‘lack of sun’ (which is so stupid btw) and Nico can’t lift him up cause he’s not strong enough so he’s constantly WAITING on Will. And it’s really boring to read about how every few seconds Nico has to turn around and let his boyfriend catch up.

I think Will’s character could have shined and been more likable in a completely different plot and quest.

Like, I thought since they weren’t giving Will any weapons that his strengths would lie in being the fast athletic character that didn’t need a magic item in order to show off…

• the whole ‘role reversal’ caretaker thing made Will look completely useless. Nico did 80 percent of the work and Will sadly fell flat. I thought he was coming along to keep Nico safe and to heal him when he got injured but Nico was pretty much doing almost every job. It was like he was riding Nico’s coattails to become a ‘hero’ and prove himself. But he didn’t really prove anything except that he complains a lot when things get rough.

They didn’t give Will a character weapon (even Piper has one and she doesn’t fight that much. Neither does Leo and he at least uses a hammer) they made him exhausted the whole book so he didn’t have his normal physical strength, his backstory was also pretty boring.

• and Will keeps randomly getting irritated at Nico bc Nicos irritated at him. Like?? Your shitting on his underworld home every chance you get. I’d be irritated too.

• in previous books he’s described as an archer. Even tho Leo calls him ‘the archer dude’ in TLH he suddenly doesn’t know how to use a bow AT ALL. He only said he wasn’t as good as his siblings not that he was complete shit at it. Previously he used a bow and had a dagger in BOO. Also will randomly says he never wanted to be a fighter and loved healing but in previous books he’s insecure about just that. Also the book forgets Will is a BATTLEFIELD MEDIC. Like he can fight and heal just like Apollo.

• Will whines constantly. And it’s grating and annoying to read. Either about the lack of sun (you knew what you were getting into dumbass) or the dead people walking around or about Nico’s horrible ‘darkness’ that he has to heal. It’s like he never thinks of Nicos feelings when he says stuff. And there little ‘fights’ end unsatisfactory.

• The vibe of Camp-Half-Blood is nonexistent. It does not feel like camp at all. It feels like we’re in a 12 year olds fanfic mind. ALL of the campers are gone even though it’s been established MANY are orphans and we see no beloved background characters and background chaos that makes us smile like in the past books. It made me surprisingly more depressed than I thought it would.

• it’s also missing the mystique of a quest. Like going up to the big house to have the quest recited around a table full of cabin counselor demigods all fighting to be the third member to prove themself a hero (mostly the ares cabin) no matter how important a quest in pjo was for Percy Chiron ALWAYS enforced certain rules. Even if they broke later on.

• Loose Ends. Reyna is. Not. Mentioned. Once. It never comes up how Nico feels about his big sister friend joining the hunters like his other one did even tho in BOO he tore apart a courtyard cause they took her. The girl whose shoulder he cried into, the girl who was with him during his last quest. The girl who thought of him as a little brother and tucked him in her cape and said he resembled his surname as he slept.

Hazel is mentioned… but it’s literally just a couple shallow mentions that don’t have anything to do with the fact that he may not ever see her again if he revisits Tartarus. He mentions his beloved little sister who was the actual first light in his life (don’t know why the book says Will is) in a long time only once and it’s because he can’t remember something and thinks Hazel would?? It’s weird that he iris messages Piper at the end instead of Hazel. I thought that’s what he was going to do and then it was just a big cringe fest of Piper shoved in at the end talking about the label of her sexuality?? Like we actually care??

And It’s never stated that Nico finds out where Jason is even though HE SHOULD KNOW. He literally talks to Beckendorf and Luke when they die in pjo to find out where they went but he can’t figure out where his best friend is??

Also at the end of the book it says Nico still hasn’t redecorated his cabin even though he told Jason he was going to a YEAR AGO bc the ‘decor was disgusting’ (I think that was the worst loose end not fixed 😂)

Every other relationship of Nicos is thrown away so he can admire Will Solace’s mediocrity. who’s kinda a loser in this tbh….

• The Percabeth scene was weird. What relevance does sally jackson have to Nico’s story? Why did he have to go all the way to Percy’s bedroom to iris message him?? And the fact he uses the ship name Percabeth to describe them (which he’d never done in previous books) proves a cringe fan is the one writing this.

The fact that they don’t OFFER TO HELP Nico is ooc of them. Bc even if Percy wants to chill at college he would never want Nico to clean up his mess without offering his help. Also the fact that Percy turns to Annabeth and says ‘oh man I forgot about him’ is like… WHAT?? And they just say oh yea if anyone can get through Tartarus it’s you two.

To Will who’s never been on a quest and doesn’t fight (at least in this book) that’s a weird thing to say. Percy and annabeth only survived bc they’ve fought together FOR YEARS. And bc of Percy’s big three power. It was just a forced add in cameo. Would’ve been better if they didn’t know till the end that Nico got Bob out and then they suddenly see Bob in an iris message and start crying or something…

• it broke my heart that Nico gave his SKULL RING to Will. The last gift from Bianca Nico ever got and he gives it to someone that doesn’t even appreciate his element.

And what does Nico get in return? A coin. I mean, an engraved coin but still. It’s kinda symbolic of the relationship. Nico giving Will something of such RELEVANCE to Nico’s character, something he’s always described with wearing and then Nico receiving a token in turn.

• Will asks Persephone how he’s SUPPOSED TO LOVE NICO. Like I almost blew up my house with me in it at that part. It never feels like Will is as attracted to Nico as Nico is to him. Nico instigates every kiss (which is ooc of him and his reservedness to touch). It seems Will likes to look at others a lot because one of Nicos insecurities were of him staring at fucking Paolo. While being right next to his boyfriend, Will checks out other people… Like Nico deserves so much better. He at least deserves respect.

I would’ve appreciated Nico and Ghost Jason way more than this shit. At least Jason described Nico better and they weren’t even dating. And I liked Solangelo before this. Will never describes physical attributes that he likes about Nico the same way Nico does about Will. Like Nicos inky dark eyes and baby bat winged hair, and his smile that is apparently like winter sun breaking through snow flurries, and his hair smelling pleasantly of rain against stone (I think Apollo is more attracted to Nico than Will is). But Nico has to call Will hot every five min.

• Also I simply don’t understand the idea that Will being away from the sun would drain him to the point where he can’t keep up with NICO’S WALKING PACE within a couple hours. Like the super athletic, physically strong character that can lift Nico over his shoulders and run with him (and Rachel in TON) walks into the underworld and has to be healed by a stupid portable night light within five minutes.

• Don’t even get me started on his JUDGINESS. I always pictured Will as the guy at camp that thought Nicos powers were cool and stuff, right? And now he just judges every ‘dark’ thing nico does like darkness is synonymous with evil. And only his light can heal him. I HATED that trope and honestly thought they would make him more original. But I have to say it: he was so boring. Like in a way that made my stomach hurt.

• Wills kind of a jerk in this. Like it’s weird to read.

• The PACING. It was off the whole book. The only part i enjoyed was the part where they didn’t know they were dreaming (that part got me) but that was it. But like gorgras scene keeps overlapping with the rest of the story and I kept forgetting my place. The fact that riordan or oshiro or whatever 12 year old fan wrote this put the words FLASHBACK & DREAM SEQUENCE over the chapters gave it SERIOUS fanfic vibes. The pacing is simply not suspenseful enough for a place like Tartarus.

• And do NOT get me started on Tartarus. Okay I’ll say it anyway: it wasn’t scary AT ALL. LIKE ANY OTHER QUEST. Actually it seemed easier than other previous quests which is a big nope. Hades might as well have sent him to Target.

• And about the fact that is was HADES who gave him that prophecy is SO OOC of him. He loves Nico. Nico is probably Hades most favorite child ever as of right now and he sends him horrible nightmares, and a prophecy respouted 12 times to get him to save Bob (whom Hades could care less about btw) and go back to a place that he knows haunts Nico every day MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE!

Also HOW did hades give Rachel that prophecy? He has no power over the Oracle of Delphi.

• Maria and Bianca MAKE NO SENSE! How in the hell is there any piece of thier souls left when Hades gave Maria ancient rites and was the one soul Nico was not allowed to see and Bianca reincarnated. WHICH WAS FORGOTTEN BTW. NOW SHES BACK IN ELYSIUM?? Like?? Like maybe I could see Hades letting Nico see a piece of Maria but Bianca is literally GONE forever.

Nico was ooc. Like not too badly but still bad. But the fact that Will didn’t let Nico shadow travel even once irks me. The fact Will didn’t let him summon Jules Albert irks me. The fact that Will kept brushing off nicos feeling about the underworld irks me. The fact that Will called Persephone the most beautiful PERSON he’d ever seen right in nicos face and then asked his (insecure) boyfriend if he was jealous irks me. The fact that Will is BORING AS FUCK irks me

• And the COMING OUT story. Horridly ooc. Nico shouting to the whole camp he’s gay and getting all the other kids to come out too is like??? and apparently he asked out Will before Will had even come out?? Nico would NEVER do that. Especially since not long before Cupid had done the same to him. And apparently Nico is like the first out character in a MODERN GREEK camp with DIONYSUS as a director. No.

In character Nico would’ve shadow traveled back to his cabin or the woods the moment he figured out what was happening.

• the nicknames are extremely cringe. Little ball of darkness is used to much and it made me itch. I think Will simply calling him babe or something would’ve been simpler and made them seem more like a real couple instead of a caricature of light and dark.

• ‘he’d always been the demigod who WOULDNT eat.’ ………..what the actual fuck is this. Nicos always been naturally skinny but being starved in jar is what messed up his hunger. Not that he WOULDNT eat. Why is everything always his fault in this book?

Like, he didn’t ‘LET’ himself get to the point of starvation over and over. I mean first of all he became homeless at ten years old, probably had to steal food items. And most recently he got KIDNAPPED by TWO GIANTS and starved forcibly. And then when he got out he was under so much stress of what just happened to him in Tartarus, the war with Gaea, his forced outing, and having to lug an enormous statue ACROSS THE WORLD. but nah, I guess he just LET all of that stuff happen to him

• the references are BAD. Out of touch bad. Unfunny and the joke never becomes a joke. It’s never explained how a kid from the 1930s knows how to use the internet and look up lil nas x in a camp that doesn’t use any technology. Doesn’t explain how Nico knows about Care Bear powers (I didn’t even know that) and the beginning scene with the Star Wars ‘joke’ set a weird tone for the book and wasn’t even funny.

• I hated the cocoa puff demons coming to live with Nico. Like I was fine they got created ig even tho it was weird and kinda dumb but the fact that Nico is so keen to have his worst memories and insecurities sleep in bed with him makes no sense once again. In character Nico would’ve burned them with hellfire.

• Also Nyx is a unfathomably weak villain. A PRIMORDIAL GODDESS that even ZEUS fears is taken down in two seconds. Also she’s just trying to get Nico ‘accept his darkness’. WHICH HE ALREADY HAS DONE. The moment he called himself The Ghost King in battle of the labyrinth at eleven years is when he truly accepted his powers and who he was. So… why is she even in the book in the first place??

• Also Will STILL insists it’s Nicos fault he wasn’t accepted. And that it was all in his head….

Also Micheal Yew was simply never mentioned again. Neither was lee fletcher. If they were I missed it.

There were a COUPLE of cute parts and lines but really this is simply too weird (and bad) to be canon to me. This book is just not canon. I see it as fanfiction from a random author that riordan probably let write the entire book or at least most of it. I think sadly riordan put his name on this for money and for fanservice because the writing is first draft material.

(And it kind of feels like they got this version of Nico and Will from cringy meme posts about them. Like, you know the ones where Nico’s all like ‘I am darkness, i am a vampire’ and Wills all like ‘come on, my uwu baby, no more shadowtravel for you, doctors orders~’ 🤣😭)

just because they thought that’s what the twelve year olds wanted and not realizing that a lot of those posts are simply made as a joke and not actually taken seriously in canon…. And that most people in the fandom thinks those are bad cringeposts

615 notes · View notes