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#i mean at least one of those stories is probably YEARS away from happening so things might change?
waokevale · 4 months
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The Overlapped AU [Aka Superhumans disguisted as Dinner Theater workers]
The Owners
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The Managers (Engineer & the HR person)
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The Waiters
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The Security
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The Performers (Wes is mostly on cleaning duty though)
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The Kitchen staff (the others are usually tasked to help, though very few are actually trusted at all times to be there)
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The Bartender and the Host
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The Dishwashers
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The Clerk & The Supplier
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So this AU came to me upon a dream, and I just had to make it real...
The synopsis below:
The event of April 17th 1906 does happen, however instead of Charlie and Maxwell being kidnapped into the Constant, the Constant overlaps with the real world and spreads itself onto Earth.
Charlie and Maxwell in the process become corrupted and have to hide away temporarily. Both of them soon began to hear strange voices, source of which neither is quite sure, telling them, compelling them to hide the corruption's effect from the publicity, for the time being.
They come to a mutual realization they have to fix this mess somehow and hunt down any and all corrupted by the tome, by any means necessary.
(Maxwell still has codex umbra, but it is sealed shut for the time being until he's sure it won't spread more if Their influence. )
But the corruption didn't just appear out of nowhere, it's been leaking way long before Maxwell found the Codex, if to a less prominent extent.
Thus, in few years passing, they form a Dinner Theater, a rather inconspicuous establishment from the first glance. Very quickly they began "hiring" employees, which in reality means tracking down and blackmailing those who have been corrupted but not fully lost themselves to its effects, in order to hunt those who had.
Winona was against the idea at first, as she found out. But seeing the effects of corruption first hand, she quickly had a change of heart and integrated herself into Charlie's new environment.
Eventually they gathered a rather generous amount of people. Once a person's proven to be trustworthy to a point, they're give higher positions in the company.
However those who aren't, are likely to be shunned or "fired" which...you could probably guess what that means.
Many of these people gradually come to terms with the reality of their situation and accept their newfound purpose, being thankful that at least they still have a roof over their head and a warm meal, instead of being viewed as monsters or outcasts to the greater society.
(Wilson though, can't quite accept this notion. He keeps claiming that "this is just a big misunderstanding, I'm just a normal guy!" Yet the truth could be far from it.)
When Maxwell and Charlie hear of the danger looming, they immediately inform their "staff" of the matter. Those who are more experienced in combat come along to face whatever opponent may cross them, while those who aren't, stay behind, to be an additional aid or a medic in case the battle gets too intense.
Whenever any suspicion arises in the town about the shady business going on in that particular building, the two owners alongside their employees practically gaslight anyone and everyone into believing they're but the most regular entertainment center.
The characters who have either willingly or unwillingly lost their humanity, mostly in the physical sense, are given special devices constructed of Thulecite and bits of nightmare fuel (made by Winona, Wicker and the main two), which effectively hide away their true identity, or surpress the effects of their ailment.
There's also a few other people important to this story, especially the One, which even Charlie and Maxwell refer to as "The Boss", though what many most recent hires don't know, is that there's someone who's in a position much higher than the owners themselves, controlling their every move.
Correlating to that, another person, or rather, a set of people per se, working for a much different cause. Though most of them are "people" in only a visual sense of the word.
And while, there might be someone inside the well-known around town diner, who just might be more than what appears on the surface, literally and metaphorically this time.
__________
If you're interested to learn more about this AU, do let me know. If you have any questions, I'm happy to hear and answer them!
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farfromharry · 1 year
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Ozzy Munson | Eddie Munson fic
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Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader
Summary: When paired together for a project you think it’ll be the end of the world, and at one point it feels like it is, but then it turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to you
Word count - 19,507
Warnings - angst, language?, mean reader at times
━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━
Everyone knew when the dreaded baby fortnight of health class was coming. It was like a legend amongst the seniors this time of year, reiterating all the past stories they’d heard from those older about how terrible it was. 
It was all your friends could seem to talk about as you waited for the first bell of the morning to ring. You were all just lingering in the hall, nearby your class. You hated that they kept reminding you of what was to come when that bell did ring. In your class there was only you and Chrissy, your fellow cheerleaders weren’t supposed to start their assignments until later in the day. You supposed at least you could get it out of the way. 
The conversation came to a sudden end when a certain individual started to make his way down the hall. Eddie Munson was a fiend when it came to the cheerleaders at Hawkins. “Ladies,” he greeted, flashing you all his infamous smirk. 
You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath. He was ridiculous, you seriously couldn’t stand him. And he’d noticed. “Y/N, glad I could make you smile,” he teased. “I’ve really missed seeing any emotion other than bitchy on your face.”
He managed to get on your every last nerve and you had no idea how he did it. It was like a talent he had. Or maybe it was just because you’d known one another for so long. But it seriously irritated you no matter what it was, and you swore that one day you would figure out how to put a stop to it, even if it consisted of humiliating him so bad that he just could never face you again. 
“Go to hell, Munson.”
“Only if I see you there. But for now, I guess I’ll have to get by with seeing you in class.”
The little minions of his, that were in his club, joined him, telling him it wasn’t worth it to get into it with you. They practically had to pull him away from the confrontation. If there was one thing he could manage, it was to take things too far with you all. If the basketball team found out and got involved, he would truly be screwed. So they always came to save the day.
You were incredibly grateful when he left, apparently less so than your friends who couldn’t stop discussing the encounter and his disgusting presence for the next fifteen minutes until the bell rang. 
Once in the class, it was easy to zone out when the man was droning on. You got the basic idea he was presenting, take care of the fake baby and its fake needs, work together with your partner, get graded at the end based on how well you did. A very simple concept. It didn’t need such a long winded explanation. 
You only came back to it when partners were mentioned. You hoped he would give you the choice to pick your own, but of course if he wanted his students to pass then that was a terrible idea. He also didn’t feel like making it unfairly easy for some. Within this class, you had a pretty terrible grade, unlike some, and the man knew you would surely only pair yourself with one of your friends who could do the work for you and bring that grade up. He wasn’t going to let that happen. 
You felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for your teacher to call your name alongside your designated partners. It was awful when he wouldn’t let you pick your own, this class wasn’t exactly swarming with your friends. There were more people than not that you didn’t want to be friends with. 
“Y/L/N and Munson…”
You could have sworn your heart dropped in that moment. Of all the people in the room, he and his little band of freaks were probably the ones you wanted to stay away from the most. He was the worst of it though. It wasn’t your fault that he had such a distaste for jocks, or jocks had a distaste for him, that had begun long before you became a cheerleader. But it was easy to fall into the roles of disliking one another because of where you were in the schools ‘social hierarchy’. 
He turned around in his seat at the front of the class with a wide grin on his face. He didn’t love the idea of working with you, you’ve made his life hell before– well, more-so your friends than you– but he was going to look forward to making this tough on you. 
He flashed you a wink, to which you rolled your eyes and scowled at him. You really didn’t want him to know that he was getting to you. 
As soon as everyone was partnered up, he made you all move into seats beside your ‘fellow parent’ so he could hand out the fake babies. Ever the gentleman (clear sarcasm) he made you move seats right to the front, refusing to do any of the work himself. “This is gonna be a fun couple of weeks, don’t you think sweetheart?” he teased. 
“Fuck off, Munson.”
You could hear him laughing to himself at the knowledge he’d riled you up already. It really was painfully easy to do so. Your arms were crossed over your chest, slouching in your seat as you called him a million and one different insults in your head. There was laughing from a couple desks over, and when you looked over your shoulder you noticed Chrissy, giggling to herself at the interaction. With a swift middle finger, you took to ignoring her, repeating over and over in your head how much you hated Eddie Munson. 
“Eddie,” Mr Guillermo announced, capturing the boy’s attention as the baby was passed to him. His eyes flickered between the two of you, and you were sure you could see something menacing behind his gaze, he knew what he was doing when he paired you up. “I’m expecting good things from you. Not like you haven’t done this before, and I’m sure you’ll do it again.”
Eddie saluted the man. “I keep coming back only for this assignment, Mr G. How’d you know?” Part of you wanted to laugh, and you hated yourself for it. 
He ignored those words, entirely. “I even made sure to give you the same one. Seeing as you’re pretty well acquainted already.” 
“Ozzy! Oh how I missed him.”
Mr Guillermo decided he was bored entertaining the kid, moving on to hand out the next child to the couple behind you both. All you had to do for him to hand it over was hold out your hand. He thought it was a little prissy that you just expected to get what you wanted by holding out your hand, but there he was doing it anyway. It allowed you to get a good look at the robotic baby, up close now rather than from afar in Eddie’s arms. It was a lot more creepy looking now than before.
“You named it Ozzy?” you asked. “Like Osbourne?”
He scoffed, though he was actually really impressed you knew who that was. “Yes. And he’s not an ‘it’, he’s a baby. How are you expecting to pass this class if you’re calling your child an it, mom.” He was already taking the assignment much too seriously, and you had no idea how you were supposed to make it through till the end— even if it was only two weeks— without tearing your hair out.
“This is gonna be unbearable,” you muttered under your breath, turning in your seat so you could glare at him. “First of all, don’t call me mom. Second of all, Mr G made it pretty clear this is a partnered project. If I want a good grade, I need to do some of the work.”
“Don’t worry princess, this is my third time doing this, I’m basically a pro. You’ll get the best grade in this damn class if you just let me do it.” The last two times he’d done this, he basically passed with flying colors. This time he was more or less assured to only get better, and if he would be forced to do it for a fourth time, he may as well actually be a dad. If he was ever going to accidentally knock a girl up, at least he knew he was prepared for fatherly responsibilities. 
You didn’t think he had any right to be proud about repeating his senior year three times, yet here he was, wearing it like a badge of honor. “I can’t stand you,” you complained, dropping your head down onto your arms that were resting on the desk. 
You heard him mutter something about divorced parents and trouble in paradise to the dumb baby, which led you to further hide your face. You had no idea if you could actually get through the next two weeks doing this with him, or if you’d ask for another partner within days, or give up altogether. Lord knows you wanted to. 
Becoming a parent alongside Eddie Munson might possibly be the death of you.
»»——⍟——««
It was you, alone, that made the decision that Eddie would take the first shift with ‘Ozzy.’ It was mainly because you just didn’t want to. You hadn’t exactly given him the choice though, you just got up from your seat when the bell rang and left him sitting there with the baby. 
The lack of communication meant that you hadn’t created a schedule or anything, so Eddie had no idea when he was supposed to hand the baby over to you. But after having it for the entire morning, he decided he really didn’t want to deal with it any longer. He’d gotten more than a few glares from peers and teachers. Most of his teachers already didn’t like him, and this definitely wasn’t helping his case. So the first chance he got to drop the kid on you (lunch), he took. 
He couldn’t find you at first, so he had to sit there at his lunch table with a pout on his lips and a fake baby on his knee. His friends thought it was amusing, but he was quick to shut down any jokes coming his way. 
“Dustin, I swear, if you open your mouth one more–” he trailed off when he saw the small herd of cheerleaders enter the cafeteria. Now was his chance. 
He abandoned his stuff and his lunch, getting to his feet and marching right over to the table. He almost ran into various innocent students, throwing out apologies left and right. They weren’t really his concern right now though, you were. All your friends seemed to notice him at once, and he could tell they made some kind of comment about him that alerted you. 
“Oh, god,” Marriane muttered. 
Your head cocked, then you looked over your shoulder in wonder. “What?”
“Freak alert.”
You knew exactly who she meant when she said that. It was sort of Eddie’s nickname around this place. It was actually used more than his own name was. In a way it was sad, but if he cared he never made it known. Although, maybe it was because you didn’t know him well enough for him to confide in you about it. 
“What do you want, Munson?” Chelsea questioned.
He offered a sickly sweet smile to the girl. “Chelsea, always nice to see you. But I’m here to bother Y/N for today, you’re safe.” You rolled your eyes at the sound of that.
You plastered on a fake smile, turning in your seat to be able to look at him. You noticed he had that baby in his arms, holding it like it was a real one. He wasn’t joking when he said he was basically a professional. “Munson. How can I help?”
“You’ll be taking Ozzy tonight. Better get some practice now for when you’re completely alone taking care of a screaming baby.” The grin on his face made you seethe with anger. For someone who claimed they would do all the work, he sure as hell was dropping a lot on you right now. You didn’t know how to do anything with this baby, and he wanted you to take the first night? He was insane. 
You forced a laugh. “And when did we decide this?”
“When you dropped him on me and ran out of class,” he reminded you. You watched as he took a shred of paper from the pocket of his dark colored jeans, followed by a pen that he handed you. “Write down your number, or address, whichever one you’re willing to actually give me so we can talk about this assignment away from judgy eyes.” He shot a few glares to your friends, all of whom were still eyeing him with disgust. 
As much as you didn’t want to, you scribbled down the number of your home phone, slipping it back into his hand along with the pen. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be to get you to do that. 
“Awesome, now that that’s settled, you can come drop him at my place around noon tomorrow.” He more or less forced the baby into your chest, leaving you no choice but to take it like you didn’t want to. He seemed all too happy about pissing you off like this. 
You shook your head, beginning to protest before he began walking away, refusing to give you the time of day you wanted to tell him you wouldn’t do this. Once you lost him in your sights, you let out a groan, slamming the fake child down onto the table. You were frustrated, angry with him in general, but your irritation got worse when the baby began to cry, loudly. 
You could basically hear Eddie’s laughter from the other side of the room, and it only furthered the way your blood boiled. 
A sudden spurt of laughter from opposite you at the table made your brow furrow. When you turned to see Chrissy laughing to herself, you shot her a glare. She tried to stop, for your sake, but just like earlier today in your class, she found it inherently funny that you were paired with him of all people. “Oh, this is gold.”
“Shut up, Chrissy,” you grumbled.
»»——⍟——««
Even though you didn’t want to, like Eddie said, you took Ozzy home with you. Your parents were more than confused when you entered the home with a fake baby in your arms. Your brother going as far to make some joke about how he knew you’d end up a teen mom.
“Don’t those things usually take nine months? I feel like I should know, I’ve had two,” your mother teased. You sighed, setting the thing down on the counter with a glare to it.  It made your mom laugh to see you look at it with such hatred, she had no idea where it stemmed from, but she wouldn’t get it even if you told her 
“This is Ozzy. He’s the fake baby I have to take care of for health.”
She nodded, and that seemed to pique your dad’s interest. “Oh, I remember that assignment. They’re still doing that? Who’s your partner?” he asked. You hated that he’d asked, you would have rather kept it to yourself, all for the sake of starting a discussion about the boy you didn’t like. 
“Eddie Munson,” you muttered, under your breath. 
Your mother gasped. “Oh, sweet Eddie! I haven’t seen him for so long, gosh I forgot about him.” You forgot about the woman's love for him, how she’d always thought he was one of the better people around you in childhood– despite the poor boy’s home life– but then one day he’d disappeared from your life without a trace. She’d questioned it before, but you always brushed it off so you didn’t have to talk about it, though she’d always had her suspicions it was due to the fault of your cheerleading friends. And she would be right.
You tried to laugh it off, hoping you didn’t have to talk about him anymore. Other than the fact he was supposed to be really well practiced at this assignment, there wasn’t really anything good you could say about him. “Yeah.”
“You know, that’s actually how me and your mom got together,” your dad said. 
That fact hadn’t ever actually been made known to you. You knew your parents had met back in highschool, highschool sweethearts actually, but they had never told you specifically about what happened. It was nice to hear, incredibly sweet to know, but you felt like that piece of information was going to lead to something else you weren’t necessarily going to like. And you would be right. 
“Who knows, maybe you and Eddie will end up like me and your mom after this whole thing.”
You scoffed. Safe to say you didn’t find that amusing, you just grabbed a snack and headed upstairs where you could forget all about the assignment. 
You set it down somewhere far away from your bed, where it could be kept out of sight and hopefully not heard. But in a weird way it still felt like it was watching you, and you wished you would have fought harder for Eddie to take it home with him.
The first thing you did was get some homework out of the way, it meant you were free to focus on other stuff over your weekend. That took longer than expected, but once that was out of the way, you wanted to take a shower, feeling like you needed it after being around Eddie for so long earlier in the day. 
The baby was left in your room, deciding it could be left alone for as long as it would take for you to clean yourself. However, you didn’t realize how wrong that would be. 
You had barely stepped under the water when you heard it cry for the first time. You huffed, dropping your head onto the shower wall in irritation. The water was switched off and you wrapped a towel around yourself, basically marching back into your room intending to shut it up as fast as possible. Turns out it just needed holding or something, which pissed you off even more. Why did the fake baby need to be held? You were busy. 
As soon as it calmed, you were off again, hoping this time you would be undisturbed. Of course you weren’t. 
This became a routine. You would be under the water for barely two minutes, and the baby would start screaming in your room again. It happened a few times, with you going between rooms, before you called it quits, marching down the stairs with a towel on and dripping wet hair, fake baby clutched in your arms possibly a little tighter than a baby should be. 
“Can you please, take this thing for a little? I’m trying to shower and it won’t stop crying.”
Your parents looked amused at your annoyance, but they took it nonetheless. A cranky Y/N was never a fun Y/N to be around. They would know, considering they’d raised you. “Of course. We’d love to spend time with our grandbaby.”
You still despised that they were leaning into it so much. They truly were as bad as Eddie with it all. You handed the baby over to your father, who immediately coddled it with a concerning amount of care. All you could do was roll your eyes and trudge back up the stairs, hearing them coo over the fake baby much too loudly, just to get on your nerves. 
Thankfully, this time around it went smoothly. You managed to take your shower in peace, then do your whole routine afterwards without being disturbed. But after that, you had no choice but to face the music again and take charge of that dumb baby. 
For the rest of the night, it didn’t bother you much (which you would be eternally grateful for). It actually allowed you to get a good night's sleep for a while, a few hours at least, and in the end it wasn’t even the thing that woke you up. 
The sound of the phone ringing was far from a pleasant way to be woken up, especially when it was all so sudden. You had been completely knocked out, wanting to get a full rest so you could go ahead with your plans the following day. It was a Saturday, so you were supposed to be getting up bright and early to hang out with your friends. You’d thought maybe if anything was to keep you up, it would be that damn plastic baby, but no, it was someone deciding to call you at four am. 
The time was actually the only reason you picked it up, just in case it was an emergency or something along those lines. Funnily enough, it wasn’t. Much to your dismay, it was Eddie deciding to be an asshole. “Hello?”
“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty,” he teased. You groaned, already tempted to hang up so you didn’t have to listen to his idiocy. It was like he could already tell what you were thinking though, and he demanded you didn’t put the phone down, and instead heard him out. “I just wanted to see how Oz is doing.”
There was a long silence following those words that convinced him you either hadn’t heard him, or you’d hung up, but he could still hear your breathing. “Are you kidding me! You woke me up at four am to ask how the fake baby’s, fake doing?”
You heard him huff. “Stop calling him fake, he’ll hear you,” he insisted. 
“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m hanging up.”
“No!” he said. “Hey, if we’re gonna co-parent then we have to communicate!” 
You hated to admit that he was technically right. There was no way you could pass this assignment if you didn’t talk on the regular, at least for these next two weeks. After that you never had to talk again if you didn’t want to, and you probably wouldn’t if you had it your way.
“Not in the middle of the night, Eddie!” 
The yelling made him shy away a little bit. He suddenly went quiet, and you felt a little bad for scolding him like that. But then he opened his mouth again and you felt like you could rush over there and strangle him. The exhaustion was spurring you on. “But is he okay? Can I talk to him?” he questioned.
If he could see the look on your face, he would be surprised an individual could show so much annoyance towards a single human being. “I’m hanging up now,” you told him. 
He tried to protest, but evidently the line went dead very quickly after you uttered those words. His pleas were useless, essentially. 
You’d hoped that was the end of it. As soon as you’d put the phone down, you huffed, then turned over in your bed, pulled your covers up as high as your chin, and closed your eyes again. You planned on going straight back to sleep, so you could be well rested by the time you got up to head out to your plans tomorrow– with enough time to drop the baby off at Eddie’s trailer. But it seemed he had other ideas. 
The phone rang again, much to your dismay. You cursed under your breath, letting out a long breath that was supposed to let out your anger so you didn’t completely explode on him. It didn’t work though.
You raised the phone to your ear, not being nearly as polite this time around. “What do you want!”
He laughed, nervously. “I fear this is a bad time,” he tried to joke. 
You weren’t planning on sitting there at four am and listening to his stupid behaviour. “You’re gonna be the one to wake the baby if you don’t stop. So, Munson, go to sleep and leave me the hell alone, for the love of god.”
»»——⍟——««
The next morning, despite all the mishaps in the night involving your sleep, you were up bright and early. It was practically the crack of dawn, but you still started to get ready for your day. It actually brought on a wonderful plan that you thought would be very enjoyable. If Eddie wanted to dump the baby on you at a time he knew would be inconvenient, you could easily do the same to him. 
After getting ready and leaving your house, you headed for the trailer park, baby under your arm probably looking like a crazy person. Though you wouldn’t have looked out of place in this area of Hawkins all that much. 
You still remembered which trailer he lived in all the way back to when you were a kid, he hadn’t moved since the last time you’d been there. Despite how long ago that was. When you made it up the small porch to the door, you made sure to knock extra harshly. You felt a little bad for whoever else was inside, but they weren’t your concern right now. 
It wasn’t opened straight away. In fact it took another round of loud knocking for someone to slowly open the door and reveal you. Thankfully, the person opening the door was Eddie, just the guy you needed to see. 
“Morning, Munson,” you chirped, looking at the very clearly disheveled man. His hair was a complete mess, unbrushed and all over the place, falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown it in last night. His eyes were barely open, and the sun was clearly blinding him, which he tried to block out with his hand. He was still in pajamas, and your knocking on his door seemed to be the thing that had woken him. “Don’t you look refreshed,” you poked. 
“What are you doing here? It’s so early,” he whined.
You beamed, this was exactly what you’d hoped for. “Here’s your baby. Take care of him today, I know how much you missed him last night.”
He was still out of it as he took the baby that you pushed into his chest. You weren’t planning on saying anything else, just bidding him a goodbye and turning on your heel to leave. That would have been the plan, had you not been caught by his Uncle, the man having wondered who was at the door and talking to the kid so early in the morning. At the sight of the familiar face, though the one he hadn’t seen in years, he greeted you fondly. “Y/N? Hey, how are you? It’s been a while.”
The smile on your face wasn’t a fake one, you didn’t need it to be when it came to Wayne, he was truly a sweetheart, unlike his nephew. He had always been kind to you. “Hi, I’m good. How are you?” 
“Great, actually. ‘M just making breakfast, would you like to join us?”
Both you and Eddie jumped at trying to turn down the offer, the boy insisting you were busy and you saying pretty much the same thing. In reality, you had time to kill before you were due to hang with your friends— the one part of your plan to annoy Eddie that hadn’t been entirely thought through— but you really couldn’t think of anything worse than being forced to sit and eat with the boy you couldn’t stand. “Really, it’s okay.” 
“No, come on in.” The sweet look on his face made you feel like you couldn’t say no, even if you desperately wanted to. “Anything for Eddie’s lady friend.” 
You could hear the boy protesting that nickname to his uncle as you took a step inside, being pointed to the kitchen where breakfast was cooking. Wayne made some quick excuse about how he’d ‘be right back’ and then you and the boy your age were left standing there awkwardly in the room together. 
There were a tense few moments where neither of you really knew what to say. You didn’t want to be rude to the boy in his own home, you’d done a lot of things but that just felt unacceptable to you. And Eddie didn’t really know what he could say that wasn’t overly mean.
You decided to try and break the tension. Just by being polite. “So, uh, you guys do this every single day?” you asked. It seemed a little excessive, the full spread. You couldn’t imagine they managed to eat it all, everyday without fail. Sometimes you barely had enough time to grab toast before you left for school.
His head shook, messy curls moving with him. “No, uh, every Saturday. It’s his only day off, so we usually spend it together.” The confession made your heart sink a little. You were well aware Eddie hadn’t had the greatest home life in the world, and it was just him and his uncle now, So the fact you were dumping this baby on him, on the one day a week they got to spend together, when all you were really doing was going to meet your friends; you felt bad.
“That’s sweet.” 
The awkward silence was back, and it seemed like it was there to stay.
When the older Munson came back you were overjoyed. It felt as though a little bit of that tension slipped away. “Take a seat. You kids dig in. Maybe little Ozzy can even have some too.” 
Your brows raised. “You know its name?” you asked, a little shocked.
The man chuckled, beginning to plate up his food as he motioned for the two of you to do the same. You were a little more hesitant than the boy beside you, all because you weren’t in your own home, but you eventually followed along. “Are you kidding? I’ve seen that baby every day for these same two weeks, for the last three years. I’m very familiar with my fake grandson by now.”
Almost like he knew he was being addressed, the baby began to cry in Eddie’s hold. “Very familiar with that sound too.” 
“So am I after someone dumped him on me yesterday.” Your words were obviously aimed at the curly headed boy, who just glared back at you, mumbling something under his breath like the baby knew he was talking to him. 
Wayne found your bickering entertaining. He thought you were like actual parents, a married couple who loved one another but couldn’t help but argue at every little thing. 
You whined, not liking that none of them were taking you seriously when you said you hadn’t enjoyed taking care of it. “Seriously, it wasn't cool Eddie, I didn’t want that thing last night.”
“Stop calling him a thing! He can hear you,” he insisted. You rolled your eyes, flipping him off when you thought Wayne wasn’t looking. He was though, but he wasn’t going to scold you, he was actually enjoying watching this go down. He had no idea how the two of you had gone from borderline friends as kids, to enemies now, but he was absolutely going to let you know he found it hilarious. You were so much more alike than you realized. 
You were relieved when the baby finally stopped screaming, though you had to admit it was a little entertaining to watch Eddie pretend it was a real baby. He shushed it as he swayed with it in his arms, and he practically cheered silently when it stopped with the ‘tears’. He was taking this whole thing more seriously than you ever would, so you supposed you could thank him for that when you ended up with a good grade. 
“You're good with it,” you commented. The ‘it’ had him glaring at you, but it only made you grin wider. You lived for pissing Eddie off. “Okay, fine. I guess he’s pretty cool.”
“He gets that from his daddy,” he boasted. 
You hated that you laughed. There was no way for you to even cover it up, he’d seen it, and he was going to bathe in the fact you found him funny. If it was anyone else you probably still would have been giggling at the dumb joke, but you were determined to keep up a facade that it was a shitty joke and nothing more– it had just caught you off guard that’s all– or at least that was what you were telling yourself. 
That one moment had seemed to break all the tension that had been lingering since you got there. From that point onwards, the three of you were laughing openly, making jokes left and right that brought the room’s atmosphere up to joyful, rather than distasteful. 
You left the Munson trailer that day with a smile on your face. In a way it felt like you had a different view of Eddie, one that you used to have before highschool hit. You didn’t think of him as quite the same freak as you did when you first saw him this morning. Only, you were going to have to keep that information to yourself if you didn’t want to be ridiculed alongside him. 
Turns out, sharing a breakfast with Eddie Munson really gives you a new outlook on the guy.
»»——⍟——««
Despite being held up at breakfast with the Munsons, you still had an ample amount of time before your plans with your friends. You got to the cafe early, just taking a seat and ordering water for the time being until they arrived. As you thought back to how you spent your morning, you didn’t notice the small smile inching its way onto your face. If you had, you would never have believed you were grinning at the thought of Eddie Munson. 
“What’re you smiling at?” you heard, snapping out of your daze to find Chrissy and Marianne taking a seat each opposite you. It quickly dropped, and a heat found its way to your cheeks. 
Thankfully, you were saved the task of coming up with a lie to tell them, when the bell above the door rang, signaling the rest of your friends bundling through the door, talking loudly as they slotted themselves into any spare seats at the table you’d picked. You were truly saved by the bell. 
After everyone was settled and had ordered their drinks, and the occasional muffin– not that you could eat anymore after the large breakfast you’d consumed– conversation seemed to take a turn and point directly to you. You didn’t love being the topic of said conversation, especially not when they were using it to bitch about people, but there wasn’t much you could do when it was seven to one. “So, Y/N, how’s it going with Mr Freak?”
At first you were unsure what she meant, still coming down from the high of the morning, but then it clicked. “Eddie?” you asked. She nodded, though pulled a face at the sound of his name. “It’s uh, it’s alright, I guess.”
They laughed. “Alright? You’re not actually starting to like that freak are you?” It’d probably be the funniest thing in the world to them if you admitted that you started liking Eddie Munson. He was less than worthy of being friends with one of Hawkins cheerleaders, and they made that fact known every time they saw him. “You’re not gonna be the next social pariah, are you?”
You forced a laugh. “No, god no. That freak? I just meant… he’s not tried to make me an unbearable, weird nerd yet. He’s kept that to himself.” He had actually kept all the nerdy stuff from you, but that was because you hadn’t asked anything about it. You just didn’t have much of the heart to say anything else about him that was meaner. 
There was a chorus of giggles, followed by your ‘friends’ delving into a round of mocking Eddie relentlessly. They didn’t hold back, and usually neither would you, but it didn’t feel right now. There was something in your gut that was telling you it wasn’t right to make fun of him, not when he wasn’t even that bad. 
It was now when you realized that your friends were the entire reason you stopped liking Eddie in the first place. There wasn’t exactly a better reason than that. They’d just been a huge influence, when they maybe shouldn’t have been. But now was too late to take back everything you’d ever said and done. 
Maybe now you could change though. Sure you couldn’t take it back, but you could try and make up for it all. Prove you were better.  
»»——⍟——««
The first health class after you were handed the babies, was more to check on your progress than teach you anything. Until your names were called for you to go up and talk to your teacher, you and Eddie just sat there, talking while you waited. 
The more the two of you talked to one another, the better you began to get along with him. He wasn’t as bad as you’d tried to make him out these past few years, and the same could be said on his behalf for you. But just because you didn’t think he was so bad after all, didn’t mean that your friends didn’t still hold their grudges against him. Conversation was about your interests, though you didn’t have that much in common, but you at least tried to seem interested. 
“So, cheerleading… that seems fun.”
It was the only thing he could think of, and it made you chuckle. It was clear he had absolutely no interest in your hobby. “It is fun, I enjoy it. It’s exercise I guess, though maybe the people could be better,” you commented. 
He scoffed. “You think?” He was obviously being sarcastic. You both knew you could do with better friends, but there weren’t many great options in Hawkins. It just so happened that you might have picked some of the worst ones. 
“I know they’re, well, horrible, but they can be okay sometimes.” It was the truth. When you were alone with some of them, they could be the greatest friends you ever had. It was when they were in a group that they seemed to change– they obviously felt like they needed to impress everywhere by being cool and mean. “Some of them value popularity too much, I think. Other than that, they can be sweet.”
He didn’t entirely believe that, he thought some of them were just the mean girls at heart that they acted like. But he wasn’t going to argue with you on it. You changed the topic for him anyway. 
“Uh, so, you’re in a band right? Corroded coffin. What’s that like?”
He couldn’t believe you even knew the name, he didn’t actually know how you knew it, but he wasn’t going to question it. He liked the fact that you’d remembered that small detail about him– and that you weren’t mocking him for it like your friends would do. It was a positive change. 
“Amazing actually, I love it. You should come see us play at the hideout sometime.”
You thought about it briefly. “Maybe I will. I’m sure you guys are great.”
It was actually easier than you expected to find a common interest. You didn’t think you would at first, but then the address of his band reminded him of something you said a few days ago. “You knew Ozzy. Is the princess cheerleader secretly a metal fan?”
It was a well kept secret, though you never thought it needed to be a secret in the first place. You thought it was beyond weird to have to keep your music taste unknown, but your friends were odd in that way. If they knew the sort of bands you liked, they would probably isolate you quicker than they had Eddie when they first started high school. 
“You could say that, but I can’t say I’m that big of an Ozzy fan.”
His jaw dropped, like you’d just said the most despicable thing he’d ever heard. “What? He’s part of, like, the greatest band ever. Even better than Metallica.”
Now was your turn to be hit with the repulsion. “No way. Metallica are so much better than Black Sabbath!” you argued. His face twisted into one of disgust. Right then and there, he could’ve claimed you were just as bad as all the others. Though he would only be joking this time. 
“I love them both, but you’re crazy.”
There was a tap on your shoulder that pulled you out of your heated debate with Eddie. You turned to see one of the basketball players you didn’t really know, holding out a folded slip of paper towards you. He edged it closer to you, and you took it with a tight lipped smile. Those players could be so awkward at times, he could have told you who wrote it, at the minimum. 
You found the note was from Chrissy, who was extremely curious as to why you seemed to be getting along so well with Freak Munson. Your eyes searched the room for her as your heart slowly sank into your stomach. No longer did you feel the easy feeling you had when you and Eddie were talking, she’d spoiled that atmosphere. When you locked eyes with her across the room, she furrowed her brows, nodding her head slightly in the direction of the boy next to you. You just shrugged, growing sheepish. 
Eddie, although curious as to who was sending you notes, didn’t ask, nor did he notice the sudden change in behavior when you turned your attention back to him. 
There wasn’t exactly much time for him to figure it out considering Ozzy began to cry. It was like perfect timing. The boy aimed to make some sort of joke about whose parent's responsibility it should be to stop the crying, but you weren’t laughing by the time it left his lips. “The better parents got this,” he teased. All eyes were on the two of you and you just wanted it to stop. 
“Uh, you do it. I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”
To say the two of you had just been bonding five minutes ago, he didn’t know where the sudden coldness in attitude had come from. He had expected you to jokingly contradict his teasing. He didn’t have time to ask, you were gone before he could even pick up the baby. “Okay… Looks like I’m doing it then.”
»»——⍟——««
The Munson boy didn’t see you again until later that day, like after the final bell had rang, signaling for everyone to go home. He managed to catch you before you got into your car, offering you a shy smile. He was unaware if he’d been the cause of the energy change earlier, so he was a little timid when approaching you. “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to take care of him together for a little while. We’ve probably got more hope of passing if we do it together.”
You didn’t know if that was true, considering you’d done most of the project already in individual shifts, never actually together aside from the time you shared breakfast with him. It did make sense though, so surely there could be no harm in agreeing to it. “Yeah, um, come over in an hour?” you suggested, earning a nod. “You remember where I live right?”
There was another nod and a promise to be there near enough on time. He took off afterwards, with Ozzy held under his arm securely as he jogged back to his van. There was a faint smile on your face as you watched him go, but it quickly faded when you noticed the cluster of judgemental stares just a short distance away. You hadn’t even known your friends were there, but you didn’t plan on hanging around to find out what they had to say about the interaction you just had. 
Once inside your car, you let out a deep sigh, hating that it felt like you were living some sort of double life. You wanted to be kind to Eddie, even if it was just for as long as this project lasted, but he was actually funny, and sweet, and you didn’t have to try to like him. Your friends on the other hand… well that was a different story. You thought they needed to give him a chance, though they probably never would. 
“Way to go, Y/N. Picking the most accommodating friends possible,” you grumbled. 
The drive to your home was silent, filled with the thoughts of how you were supposed to win in this scenario. How did you stay friends with Eddie, and your cheerleading buddies all at once. And even as you pulled into your driveway, you still didn’t have an answer.
You headed into your home, stumbling across your mom in the kitchen, knowing you needed to tell her about your plans. “A friend’s gonna come over to study in a little bit. Is that okay?” you asked. She looked unsure, but that was primarily because she wasn’t a huge fan of your friends. You knew once she found out it was Eddie, she’d be all over the idea. “It’s Eddie,” you sighed. 
Her entire face lit up. “Oh, that’s great! I can’t wait.”
“Try to keep the excitement to a minimum. We don’t want to scare him away,” you teased.
There was a knock on your door not that much later. You’d been putting chips into a bowl for a snack, but you paused to go and answer the door, letting the boy follow you inside after a quick greeting. 
“Want anything? Chips?” you offered, holding the bowl out to him. Ozzy was in one hand, but with the other he took a greedy handful, winking at you when you scoffed and pulled the bowl away. You hadn’t intended for him to have so many, but now like half of your snack was gone. He was just proving that he had, very literally, not changed since he was a small child. 
You were planning to take off upstairs when your mother caught you. 
“Eddie, oh hello!” your mother greeted, pulling the boy into a tight hug he couldn’t escape from. It would have been funny– the look on his face– had it not meant that your mother had decided she loved the boy like her own son. She wasn’t supposed to be so accepting of him already, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact you didn’t hate him. 
The woman was practically suffocating the poor boy, so of course you had to step in and save him. “Okay, mom, let him breathe.”
You guided him away from her, allowing him a moment of peace. He liked the affection though, he didn’t tend to get all that much. If your mother wanted to dote on him, he was happy to let her, even if it made you a little disgruntled. 
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m just so happy that Y/N finally has a friend over.”
Your brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as they looked in her direction. “I have friends over all the time,” you pointed out. And you did, your house was like the main hangout spot, and your mother was almost always there when they did come over. You had no idea what she was talking about. 
“None that I like,” she muttered, hoping it wouldn’t offend you too much. If you were being honest, it wasn’t a big surprise at all. In fact, it was always a bigger surprise when someone did like them. You could hear Eddie chuckling quietly, and you gave him a swift elbow to the rib, which earned a groan of pain. Neither of you were planning to address that your mom had referred to Eddie as a friend. 
“Well, before you decide you hate anymore of my peers, we’re gonna go to my room and take little Oz with us.” You took the plastic baby from the boy, pressing a dramatic kiss to its head as you began to lead the way out of the kitchen and to the upstairs. 
The Munson boy offered your mother a polite smile, though he was amused that you were finally accepting Ozzy in the way that he did. After that tiny interaction, he turned and followed you blindly, like a little lost puppy. It would’ve been charming if he didn’t keep tripping over his feet– courtesy of him not looking where he was going, which he probably should have known was really dumb. 
You laughed at him more than once, and if you caught him on a good day he might admit that your laugh made him feel some kind of way. But as for now, he’d keep that information to himself. 
The few hours together in your room were spent with Eddie putting off study, taking care of Ozzy and the occasional burst of conversation when the boy couldn’t keep a random thought to himself. It continued throughout the entire time he was there, but by the end of it, you were much more happy to entertain him.  
“You know what,” he began, head dangling over the edge of your bed, eyes focused on where you were sitting on the floor of your room. Your eyes were drawn from your textbook to his face, and the sight of him so comfortable in your room brought a smile to your face. “I’m really glad we got partnered for this project. I’ve missed talking to you.”
It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, it’s probably the most vulnerable he’s been with you. “I think I have too.” 
You watched as he climbed off of your bed, moving to sit beside you on the floor, he did it under the guise that he’d help you with your studying, but considering he was a three time repeat senior, you didn’t know how much help he could really offer. He’d probably end up just sitting there and bothering you the whole time. It was very Eddie of him.
That was exactly what he did. Every time you tried to turn a page, or scribble something down, he was there to try and mess something up. Whether it was poking your cheek or tugging on a strand of your hair. He was always there. 
“I swear to god, Munson. I’ll kick you out if you don’t get your hands off of me.”
He chuckled, placing his hands in his lap to show you he wouldn’t bother you anymore. That didn’t last long though, not when he then kicked his foot against your leg. You groaned, dropping your pencil and shooting him a heavy glare. “You’re so annoying,” you whined. 
You didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten amidst all the teasing, but now it was all you could focus on. If he inched forward only slightly, you were positive your lips would touch. And you hadn’t yet decided if you’d mind. You didn’t get to though, because before you could edge close enough to actually share a kiss, there was an interruption.
“Eddie! Your uncles on the phone,” your mom called. 
The yell snapped you both out of the situation you had found yourselves in. Your cheeks grew hot, and you could see the way his tinted a light shade of pink. The two of you had almost kissed, and you had no idea how you had let that happen. “I should, uh, go see what that’s about. He probably wants me home.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously, eyes looking anywhere but at you so you didn’t have to face what you’d just almost done. It was something that was going to be put to the back of your mind so you didn’t have to deal with it anytime soon. 
“Yeah, yeah, go.”
You smiled at him as he got up to his feet, grabbing his stuff and rushing to the ajar door of your room. “Do you want to keep Ozzy tonight?” he asked. 
“Yeah, that’s fine with me.”
And with that he left, offering you a small smile that seemed a little forced, before taking off. You let out a breath when he was finally out of sight, letting your body relax. You hadn’t even realized how tense you’d been before. Eddie Munson was doing weird things to you, and you didn’t know he had the power. But, you seriously needed to figure out how to put a stop to it before it got bad. 
»»——⍟——««
Halfway into the second week of the project, when the big test you’d been studying for was approaching, you felt like you were on the very edge of sanity. You were so close to tripping over to insane. 
You’d thought the almost kiss would have made things weird with Eddie, but it actually just made you closer. You had graciously offered to take Ozzy for the night, considering Eddie had told you he had a gig at the hideout. You were just trying to make things easier for him to handle, but now you were beginning to seriously regret being so kind. The screaming while you were trying to study was sending you crazy. You were desperate for the baby to be quiet, but it seemed like all it wanted to do was ruin your night. 
At first you tried sucking it up, but then everything started to pile up and you were positive you were going to scream if you didn’t solve the problem. So although you tried to put it off for as long as physically possible, eventually you just couldn’t, you had to give in and call him. 
You had no idea how far into the set he must be, or if he’d even be able to answer the call, but you were seriously begging that there would be a miracle or something and he would. You stood there by the phone like an idiot, twirling the cord around your finger to try and soothe your nerves as it rang. You were so terrified he wouldn’t be able to come to the phone, and really you didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t.  
It took a few rings, so many that you thought it wasn’t going to be picked up, but at the possible last minute, a rough voice came down the receiver. “Hideout,” the unknown man said simply. 
“Hi, um–” It was like all legible thoughts left your brain. You had no idea how to describe Eddie to the man that might not even know him. “I’m looking for Eddie. H-He’s in the band that’s playing.” You could hear the music over the phone, and it was loud, your only sign that the band was in fact still performing. It made you feel even worse. 
“Munson?” he asked. He obviously knew him very well. 
“Yeah, yeah. Munson.”
He told you to hold on, then must have taken off, because all you heard was more or less silence and the faint sound of the band. It did suddenly stop, and it brought the tears from earlier back to your eyes as the guilt set into your stomach. You had a fear that he was going to be so mad at you, and you didn’t think you could take that. 
“Hello?” He sounded confused. You supposed being told to stop your set and answer the phone to some random girl didn’t really give someone a lot of context. He probably even considered not bothering at all, but now here he was. 
“Eddie? It’s me,” you said. You really hoped he would recognize your voice just from that. He did, your voice practically played on repeat in his head all day everyday. 
You could physically hear the confusion twist into concern when he next spoke. Getting a call at the bar he hung out was arguably the biggest red flag ever that something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked. All the questions came at once, questions to you, ones he needed himself answering. There were a lot. 
“I’m– I don’t want to ruin your night, but I really need your help.”
Those words didn’t instill him with the confidence that you were okay. If anything it made him more bothered that he wasn’t already by your side. If he could solve your problem, then he definitely would, but he was still yet to learn what it was. “Okay, um, where are you?”
“At home. I-I’m not in danger or anything, just need some help.” Even if you weren’t in immediate danger, he could tell you were on the verge of tears, or already in tears, just from how your voice shook with your words when you spoke. “I- It’s probably stupid, and I’m dragging you away from your fun. I’m sorry, Eddie.”
“Hey, no worries,” he assured. His voice sounded so kind that you wanted to cry all over again. It was becoming a very familiar feeling this evening. “I’ll be right over. Give me, like, twenty minutes and I’m yours.”
Your thank you was barely loud enough to be heard, but he caught it just before he hung up. He hadn’t thought his night would end so early, it usually didn’t when he was performing with Corroded Coffin, even if it was a school day, but he was happy to cut it short if you needed his help, and you seriously sounded like you needed his help. 
He was even quicker than he said, which told you he’d been speeding. Usually you’d chastise him for being so unsafe, but you didn’t have the energy this time around. 
By the time he knocked on the door, you were so exhausted from your own emotions that the words just fell out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you began to furiously mutter as he stepped through your door. He had barely even gotten a foot through before the words started spewing out of your mouth. He hadn’t yet been able to tell you that it was okay. “I know you were busy and I really didn’t want to call, but I–”
He shushed you, shaking his head. He could hear Ozzy’s screams from somewhere in the house, but they sounded muffled, like you’d tried to hide it or something. Usually it would’ve made him laugh, but he didn’t think now was the time. “It’s okay. We were about finished anyway,” he promised. It was a lie, there was actually a while left in their show, but they could play without him. Plus it wasn’t like many people would miss him, there were only around four people in the audience. You didn’t need to know any of that though. “Tell me what’s going on.”
You’d never seen him so caring and concerned, but it was a nice change. “I– I have to study, and I don’t get half the stuff i’m supposed to a-and I can’t get the dumb baby to stop crying,” you whined, the tears spilling over your cheeks as all your problems came back to the surface of your mind. “I just… I’m overwhelmed,” you concluded. 
He frowned, though in true Eddie fashion, he couldn’t resist cracking a joke that he hoped would make you feel better. “You know, you really shouldn’t talk about our child like that.”
You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless still chuckled a little bit at the comment. It wasn’t enough to completely cure your sadness, but it helped. “Shut up and please make it stop,” you begged, eyes pleading with him desperately. 
He didn’t need to be asked a second time. As those words left your mouth, he took off, heading in some random direction in the hopes that he might find where you’d hidden the baby. It didn’t occur to him until after a while that he could have just asked you where it was. So he headed back to where you were standing, still in the same position looking as sad as you were before. “Where exactly is our child?”
The fact he referred to Oz that way made you smile a little. “Uh, he’s in my closet, under a few blankets and pillows and stuff,” you said shyly. It made him cackle that you’d gone to such an extent, and it was probably the exact opposite of what your assignment said you were supposed to do. This was more like what Eddie thought being your partner would be like. 
“You’re so amazing, sweetheart.”
The pet name made you flush. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he could feel it from all the way over where he was standing. It slipped out so casually, and you weren’t even sure he had noticed it, but it made your stomach flutter. Little did you know, he had noticed. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, it’d be something he’d been calling you in his head, never with the intention for it to be spoken allowed, but now he was freaking out. He just hoped you hadn’t found it too weird. 
Thankfully, he wasn’t to notice any embarrassment on your face, he had already turned away in his own humiliation before he could see yours. 
He scurried away to your room, already knowing the path from his visit the other day. You left him to it for a little while, needing a moment to breathe and clear your head before you joined him. You also needed to know that the crying had stopped before you headed up the stairs, just so you didn’t explode. 
You thought ten minutes was a good amount of time. And you’d been right. When you ascended the stairs, moving down the hall to your bedroom, he was standing inside, Ozzy in his arms as he swayed a little from side to side. It was a cute sight, and it further solidified your idea that with all this practice Eddie would surely end up being an incredible dad. 
“How do you do it?” you asked, sounding more than amazed at his abilities. He scoffed, downplaying his talents. There was no way you were going to allow that though. “Seriously, Ed. He was screaming for like three hours before you showed up.”
You watched him wince, which didn’t look like a good sign of something. You had no idea what that something was though. “What?” you quizzed. 
“That’s gonna really mess up our grade,” he teased. 
You scoffed, slapping your hand against his chest. He laughed loudly, setting the now calmed baby on your bed somewhere. Your attention wasn’t on that though, you were much more focused on the boy himself. 
It felt like he was a miracle worker. You hadn’t ever looked at the Munson boy like you did now, like he was some sort of guardian angel sent down to you. Maybe your thoughts were clouded, maybe you weren’t thinking straight, but he had never seemed more attractive than right now. 
He must have noticed a sudden shift in the atmosphere too, because there was a glaze that came over his eyes when he looked at you. You couldn’t begin to explain, but you weren’t going to try to. 
There was a weird sort of magnetism that suddenly appeared between the two of you. You felt yourself edging closer to him, and you from two weeks ago would probably have recoiled in disgust, but you were the one leaning into it most right now. So much could change in such a short time and it shocked you to think about it really. You wouldn’t change it for the world though, even if you were given the choice to. 
Eddie must have been feeling the same way. His hands lifted from his sides, settling on your face so he was practically cradling it. It was the most loved you’d felt in a while, and you really hoped he felt the same way about it. 
His touch on your cheeks made your heart pound in your chest. Your breathing was noticeably heavier, though you really hoped he didn’t notice your nerves. You’d be mortified if he knew how tense you were right now. “Y/N…” he whispered. His thumb was stroking over your cheek, which could definitely feel the heat on your face. 
“Just kiss me,” you hissed. 
As soon as he heard those words, sort of his confirmation that this was okay, he was lunging forward. You had zero idea how it had happened. To say you hated the guy such a short time ago, you were pretty much solidifying your changed feelings for him now. He was gentle with it, though you could tell he was holding back, whether that was for your sake or his. You would have been perfectly happy for him to kiss you with vigor though.
Your hands got tangled in his hair, and although he would usually hiss at the terrible pain that shot through his scalp, he found he didn’t mind it so much when it was you. He never thought the day would come when he was in this position, but here he was, a prime example that wishes do in fact come true. 
You were first to pull away, but not because you particularly wanted to, just because you needed to breathe. You couldn’t imagine passing out from lack of air while kissing Eddie was going to do well for any potential relationship. 
“Wow,” he whispered. You chuckled nervously, though you really hoped he didn’t mistake those nerves for disgust or disappointment or anything. He didn’t. He just no longer knew what exactly to say to you. You were the same way, feeling like a shy school girl all of a sudden. Never had you kissed someone and wound up with that reaction afterwards. Eddie was just… different. 
“Yeah,” you sighed, dreamily. 
There was a beat of uncomfortable silence before he spoke up. “I’ll take this rascal for the night. Let you have a nice break.” You were happy to have him take the plastic toy, wanting it as far away from you as possible for the night. A peaceful sleep was all you could ask for. With each word he edged a little closer to your front door, though really he didn’t want to leave. If he could stay with you, especially after that kiss, he would jump at the opportunity. “Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.” You watched as he descended down your yard to his van, which you noted was parked hastily half on and off the curb. It made you chuckle, but you also found it sweet that he’d been in such a rush to get to you. At that realization, that he’d cared so much that he probably broke multiple driving laws, you couldn’t let him leave so easily.
“Eddie?” you called. He stopped walking, turning on his heel to look at you. He hadn’t expected you to jog up to him, but within seconds you were standing in front of him, grinning widely. It was the happiest he assumed you’d been all night, and he was glad he could be the cause. You didn’t say anything else, just pressed a sweet, quick kiss to his lips. A goodnight kiss you would have called it. “Thank you.”
He was blushing like crazy when you pulled away, and although this was now officially the second time he’d kissed you, it had caused him to be a stuttering mess. “It’s no p-problem.”
»»——⍟——««
The whole night you were thinking about that kiss with Eddie. Your dreams were filled with the way his hands caressed your face, how soft his lips felt against yours. You were still actually rather surprised how soft his lips had been. You woke up the next morning with that same dumb smile on your face that you’d fallen asleep with. 
You almost couldn’t wait to see him when you woke up. Getting ready consisted of you practically bouncing all over the place with your excitement. It just couldn’t be contained. However, you didn’t have the pleasure of catching him before class. He was nowhere to be seen. Eddie wasn’t exactly Mr Punctual, so you suspected he would arrive much later than he should. You would just have to deal with seeing him when he finally showed up. 
You thought you’d seen his van in the parking lot, but considering there was no sign of him inside, you assumed it was just a similar model or something that you mistook for his. You hated to admit that it made you a little disappointed. 
But, you trudged inside anyway, and found some way to busy yourself while you waited for your class to start. It just so happened though, that it looked like you were going to have to entertain your friends. Although you tried to avoid them, keeping your head down while at your locker, hoping they could just walk past and miss you, they spotted you right away. Maybe it was the bright cheerleader uniform that gave you away. “Y/N!” one of them called in a high pitched, grating voice. 
You looked over your shoulder with a faked smile. “Hey,” you greeted. 
“Feels like we haven’t seen you in forever. You haven’t abandoned us for Munson have you?” Chelsea chuckled. To her that was probably the funniest mental image in the world, but you just had to hold back from rolling your eyes. 
“Can’t have our girl with that freak. Sort of ruins our reputation.”
You frowned. “Stop,” you whined, before you could really tell yourself to shut up. It felt wrong to be letting them speak about him like this. If he was here now he would probably be devastated too. He might not always show that the stuff people say about him gets him, but you’ve started to notice he takes stuff to heart just like anyone else. You’d noticed in conversations with him recently that he was pretty self-deprecating at times, but the stuff he said was stuff you’d known your friends to yell at him. It made your stomach sink each time. 
Little did you know, out of the corner of her eye Chelsea had seen the mane of curly hair coming out of a nearby classroom. It was the same one he held his club in, and in tow was one of his younger friends who frequented Hellfire. “Oh, come on. Are you really going soft for that loser? What happened to the girl who used to despise him more than we do?”
It was in that moment where you felt painfully pressured to join in. You wished you had the strength to walk away, tell them no or stick up for him. Any of those things would have been a billion times better than giving into what they wanted and being horrible. “I’m obviously only using that freak for the grade. He just started getting clingy, can’t take a hint apparently,” you laughed. 
They had somehow timed it just right, so Eddie walked by just as the laugh tumbled out of your mouth. It felt like someone had just staked him in the heart, and he had no idea how he was supposed to react. Although the pain was only emotional, it really did feel physical for a while. He could’ve sworn his heart was cracking in his chest. Dustin saw the previous joyful expression on his face drop.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” the kid suggested. He didn’t think his friend needed to be subjected to anymore of this cruelty. 
He wouldn’t budge though, he was still standing there. He needed you to see the pain you were causing him, how you’d made him feel in the hopes it would drown you in guilt– if you could even experience such an emotion. “I didn’t know you were so shallow,” he called. It was clear to him that this was the first time you were realizing he was there. There was a fear slipping into your eyes, and you resembled something like a deer caught in headlights. “Glad to know what you really think of me.”
“Eddie–”
“No. No, I wouldn’t want to take up anymore of the princess’ time. I’m clearly not worthy.” He turned on his heel and began walking the other way. There wasn’t even anything down there that he needed, but he just knew he couldn’t face walking past you like that. Dustin followed, shooting you a harsh glare over his shoulder for hurting his friend. For the last couple days, due to all of Eddie’s girly ramblings about you, he assumed you’d changed, but now here you were proving that idea wrong. He couldn’t even imagine how truly crushed his friend was, or how pissed he was, considering Dustin himself was pretty damn pissed. 
The look of betrayal on his face hurt more than words could explain. The guilt was multiplied by at least a million. You knew you shouldn’t have said anything, you didn’t even know why you opened your big mouth to say something in the first place. It was dumb, painfully so, and it was going to take a lot to try and make up for this. And it was going to have to start with you rethinking who your friends were. You couldn’t claim to have a crush on a guy if you surround yourself with all these people who openly mock him, and you didn’t even come to his defense. 
“Excuse me,” you muttered quietly, pushing your way through the group of girls who didn’t even hear you, just so you could follow after him in the direction he took off. They didn’t know where you were going, but even if they were curious, you wouldn’t care to explain to them. You didn’t need to justify having to swallow your pride in order to talk to a guy they thought was a social reject. 
You had to chase after him like a scolded puppy, calling his name more than once. All eyes were on the two of you as you walked the maze that was the halls of the school. If he finally did give you the time of day to talk to him, you knew there was no way you could do it in front of all these people. They didn’t need to hear it. 
“Eddie, please, just give me two minutes,” you begged. The way you pleaded with him seemed to get through to him for a minute. He paused, despite Dustin’s insistence that he shouldn’t give you the time. 
He was whispering something to the kid that you couldn’t hear, but it must have been something along the lines of him giving the two of you some time. Henderson made it known how angry he was when he walked past you, glaring so harshly that you thought his look would kill you if it could. You couldn’t do anything but look away from him in discomfort, he was proud of himself at the fact he’d made you squirm. 
As soon as Dustin was gone, you took that as your sign to get started. “I’m-I’m sorry,” you began. You heard him scoff, but you also couldn’t blame him for that, that was in fact an incredibly lame ass apology. You just didn’t know what else you were supposed to say to him. 
“You’re sorry? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” People seemed to think it was exciting to watch you get yelled at by the resident freak of Hawkins. Eddie notably didn’t like jocks, and they’d seen him start arguments with Jason on more occasions that they could count, but never once had he gone for a cheerleader like this. It was like a once in a lifetime thing. 
Your eyes were growing teary. You knew it was pathetic to try and cry in the hopes it would make him kinder. It was completely unfair actually, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “I-I don’t know what to do. What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything.”
He huffed. “You want to do something for me?” It was more of a rhetorical question but you nodded after it nonetheless. “Leave me alone. Go back to your great life, and your perfect little friends, and stay away from me,” he hissed. 
He hated the look that crossed your face, but he hated even more that he was so upset by it. Why did you still have control over his heart when you’d been the one to rip it out of his chest in the first place? It wasn’t like he had done anything to deserve it. “Is that really what you want?” Your voice was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, and he wished he hadn’t because that sentence was truly the final thing that solidified the crack that ran down the middle of his heart. His answer to this was going to finish the both of you. 
He didn’t want to say yes. No matter how much his brain screamed at him to tell you no, he couldn’t listen to it. “Yes.”
You inhaled shakily, visibly holding back tears that his words had brought to your eyes for the second time. You wished you had just never opened your mouth, then you really wouldn’t have been in this situation. “Right. Okay.” If you could have just left it at that, the two of you might have ended on the slightest of better terms, but you just had to open your mouth again. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I-I don’t think you realize how serious I am when I say I’ll do anything.”
It looked as though he might have considered it for a second or two, but ultimately he decided against it. “I have to get to class,” he muttered, attempting to walk past you. 
Your hand wrapped around his bicep though, a small smile crossing your face. “Since when have you ever been on time for class, Munson?” you tried to joke. He didn’t seem to think it was funny, trying to brush you off of him. It only served to make you more sad if anything. You frowned as you removed your hand from him like he wanted you to. “Sorry,” you muttered. 
It was painfully awkward. You tried to offer something that would make him feel better, a kind act that was meant to try and get you back on his good side. “I, uh, I can take Ozzy for the day, and night, if you want.”
He had forgotten that the baby was still in his grasp, probably much too tightly considering the anger in his body right now. But he didn’t care about that so much. Now that his attention was drawn back to it though, he realized how much he didn’t want to spend the rest of this project trying to act civil with you. “Forget it. I’ll finish the project on my own, that way you can go back to being Hawkin’s perfect, princess cheerleader sooner.” It stung a little, but you supposed you’d earned it. 
He was completely avoiding your gaze, and you wished you could have said you blamed him. “Eddie…” Your voice was so weak that it almost convinced him, but he was determined to be stronger than that. He wasn’t going to give in to you just because he felt bad, you had made him feel so much worse than you were feeling right now, you deserved to feel like this. He didn’t even look at you as he walked away. 
If you didn’t have a class that you needed to get to ASAP, you could have potentially broken down into tears right there. You felt horrible, in a way you’d never felt before, and the guilt was already eating you alive. 
»»——⍟——««
It had been days since Eddie last spoke to you, and you felt like you were having withdrawals. Your original plan was to essentially never speak to him again after your project was over, but now you actually found yourself missing him and his shitty jokes. It was incredible to you how close you could get to someone in less than two weeks when doing such an involved assignment together. In any other situation, Eddie probably would have made a joke about how Ozzy now had to suffer with divorced parents, but that was missing too. There was a lot less humor in your days.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, you had attempted many times to talk to him, but he didn’t want to hear it each and every time. He wouldn’t say anything to tell you to go away, he just ignored you. He actually wouldn’t even look at you. It made the class you were partnered together for painfully awkward. 
“Hey, Eddie,” you greeted, wringing your hands together nervously. He didn’t look up from where he was scribbling in his notebook. He never actually did work in this class, you knew that much, so you knew he wasn’t planning on starting now. You didn’t let him tell you you couldn’t sit beside him, you just sat down. You did hear him grumble about it though. “How’s it been going with Oz?” 
Before all this happened, he would have been over the moon that you were referring to Ozzy with a nickname, rather than calling him an ‘it’ still. Now though, he hadn’t even allowed you to take him for any period of time– not the days you were scheduled for, or the nights– he’d been doing it all. You knew he must have been exhausted, and you wished he would just ask for your help. You never thought you would be willing to care for a fake baby that just screams all the time, but now here you are. 
He didn’t answer you, which had you sinking down into your seat more. You were embarrassed. “Miss Y/L/N, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
You had been so caught up in Eddie that you didn't even realize the class had begun. Now all eyes were on you, Chrissy and the other jocks snickering in their seats at the expression on your face. You had gone from a kicked puppy to sheepish. 
Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “No, sir. Sorry.” The man had noticed you looked a little more down today, and he put the pieces together and assumed it was something to do with Munson. He didn’t know what teenage relationship bullshit was going on, and he absolutely didn’t want to get into it, but he would step in if he thought it would affect your grade. For the most part he knew it would be fine, considering Eddie was always good with this assignment, but he would intervene if he had to. 
He nodded. “Alright, then. So today’s task requires communication. I’m expecting you and your partner to consider the financial responsibilities of having a kid. Are they going to college? How are you going to save that kind of money? It’s vital that you talk about this.”
The gesture made you smile at Mr G, grateful that he’d picked up on the fact you were trying to right a wrong and given you this opportunity. He flashed you a smile, one that he knew you’d recognise as being for you. Even if he was annoyed previously that you’d been talking when he was trying to conduct his lesson, he still had some decency to try and help. You didn’t talk again until he set you off on your tasks, giving you all the okay. 
“So, dad, you emotionally ready to plan for Oz to go off to college? Won’t be too sad watching him go?” When he didn’t respond you tried to crack a joke, hoping you could earn a smile or something at the least. “They grow up so fast don’t they?”
You watched as the metalhead’s hand shot up in the air. It took barely a minute for your teacher to recognize it, nodding his direction. “Can I go to the bathroom?” You visibly deflated, but it wasn’t like the older man could tell him no if he wanted to. 
“Sure.”
From there you were left sitting by yourself, taking Ozzy from Eddie’s desk and playing with the dolls hands for something to do. Your teacher felt pity for you, even if he didn’t know the full story of what was going on– he did have some idea considering gossip spread like a wildfire in high school— but he usually stayed out of it. Right now there was nothing he could do, so it seemed, that would help.
After failing to have Eddie actually speak to you directly, even at the instruction of your teacher, you thought your only other option was to approach his friends. 
You took your chances when you couldn’t see him at the lunch table. Him and his friends sat at the same one every day, so you knew where to look, but you had to wait for an opportunity when he wasn’t there. That wasn’t often. It took a lot of waiting, and glances over your shoulder that probably made you look pretty obsessive. But eventually, you watched as he left the cafeteria for some reason, giving you the perfect chance to head over to the table to talk. 
“Uh, hi,” you greeted, coming to a stop at the end of the table. They all turned to look at you. Some looked confused, others looked annoyed, and one of them, Jeff you thought his name was, seemed like he was prepared to greet you. That was until Dustin nudged him and shook his head. Though he was one of the youngest sitting there, it very much appeared like he was sort of running the show. The distaste within them all at the sight of you made you even more uncomfortable than you already were upon approach. “Looks like he’s told you guys then. But I just, I want to apologize, please.”
Your eyes were pleading with anyone of them that would look at you, but it seemed like none of them wanted to hear it. “Dustin,” you called. “If anyone could convince him to give me another shot, it’s you. Please.” Everyone had turned to him now, to try and gauge what he was thinking of doing. 
There must’ve been something about you that changed your tune since the last time you held an interaction with the younger boy. Whether that was your eyes, what you were asking him, or maybe he just realized you were serious about this. He thought a lot of things about the cheerleaders within this high school, but he didn’t think a single one of them would go to these kinds of lengths to embarrass someone they saw as even less than beneath them. 
It was probably that which gave him the confidence you were genuine. He cared about Eddie, and if he thought there was even a slight risk being posed to his friend, he wouldn’t go through with what you were asking of him. “Well, he’d totally not love it if you dropped those friends of yours, and he’d probably not love it if you made some sort of grand gesture to show him you were serious,” he said, raising his eyebrows and flashing you an awful attempt at a subtle wink when he spoke. 
It took you a second or two to catch on, but when you managed it was like a light bulb went off in your head. Everyone at the table, despite the fact they were still confused, saw the way in which your eyes lit up, a gasp tumbling past your lips. You placed your hands on Dustin’s shoulders, kissing his cheek gratefully, ignoring the way he blushed brightly. “You’re a lifesaver.”
With that you scurried away, bidding the table a few half-hearted goodbyes. You had a plan to concoct, so there wasn’t really any time for you to waste. You needed to find a quiet place as soon as possible where you could sit and brainstorm what this big grand idea might be. That place happened to be the library, which was basically empty considering it was lunch time. It was perfect. 
The dropping your friends part would be easy, you could say one wrong thing and you would be dead to them in seconds. So, as long as you said something about Eddie’s good nature, it would be fine. As for a gesture that would change his mind about his feelings towards you, that would be a little more difficult. Eddie was already quite the extravagant guy, so you thought it would be difficult to do something that would impress him. But you were sure you’d be able to manage eventually. There had to be something you could do that was so out of character for you that it just screamed ‘I have a huge crush on you’.
You were very stuck in your own thoughts for a while, the end of your pencil in your mouth as you chewed mindlessly. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice someone else coming into the room at first, not until they spoke to you. “Excuse me, do you–” He stopped when he realized what his mistake had been. He hadn’t realized he was speaking to you until you raised your head, though in hindsight it probably should have been obvious. Maybe it was the jacket thrown over your cheer uniform that meant he just didn’t notice. 
“Hi,” you said, weakly. The clear look of disgust on his face made your chest ache. He just scoffed, shaking his head and trodding further into the library. It looked like he was looking for something, probably one of his nerdy ones. 
With a sigh, you realized you didn’t particularly want to still be there when he came back from being lost amongst the shelves, not if he was only going to look at you with those same hatred filled eyes all over again. You didn’t know how much more of this cold shoulder you could take from him. 
“I’ll win you back Munson,” you whispered, eyes in his general direction though you could only see quick sightings of him as he moved along the shelves. “I swear by it.” 
You began to pack up your things, hurriedly. Thankfully, you managed to head out before you saw him again, but he saw the back of your retreating figure just as you left the doors. He felt a little disgruntled. His half a question had been the most interaction he’d had with you in weeks. Though he was the one who was rejecting any form of communication with you, he had to admit he did miss talking to you.
»»——⍟——««
To say you were nervous for the day was an understatement. Your regular life was going to change for the sole reason of a boy. You had thought about it deeply, whether you wanted to make such a sacrifice for some guy that you decided you had feelings for within a week, but then you thought of all he’d done for you and made you feel in those seven days– which was so much– and then you knew this was the right decision. 
Upon entering the school, the first thing you needed to do was track down your fellow cheerleaders and give them a little piece of your mind. It wasn’t hard to find the preppy girls with the bright uniforms and high ponytails. They were in the courtyard, some sitting, others standing around and mocking anyone they set eyes on. 
Maybe if you hadn’t seen Eddie with a couple of his friends just around the corner, you might not have gone through with it, but you knew at that moment that it was really important for you to do this. Not only was it for him, but you as well. It’d make you feel like a better person to know you weren’t tearing people down everyday like they were. You might have been doing it for a while, but now was the time you put a stop to it. 
Even if you wanted to turn back last minute, they happened to spot you before you could consider doing so. 
“Y/N, there you are! We didn’t think you were ever gonna show,” Chrissy said. Usually you would have faked a smile as they all turned to welcome you, but not this time around. They were a little confused as to why you weren’t in uniform, you always were normally, it was sort of the rules. “Why aren’t you dressed for practice?” she asked. 
It was a little difficult for you to grasp how exactly to begin what it was that you wanted to say, so you thought you needed to just spit it out while you still had the guts. “I actually need to talk to you guys about something.”
Chelsea gasped, feigning sympathy. “You can tell us anything. We’re all friends here.” Her tone was painful to listen to. It was so clearly fake that you pulled a face. Usually you wouldn’t bother acknowledging it, but it was bothering you more than it ever had before right now. Now that you had mentally addressed the fact that they were pretty unbearable to be around to the average person, you found you couldn’t tolerate them any longer either.
You took a deep breath, partly to calm your nerves and partly so you wouldn’t scream at Chelsea for being so aggravating. 
“I’m quitting,” you said simply. “I don’t want to do cheer anymore.”
There were a couple gasps here and there, and though they pretty much all seemed shocked, some didn’t care as much as others did. Some were more confused than shocked. You deciding out of nowhere that you were quitting cheer, right after the events that transpired with Eddie, seemed too convenient for the two things not to be related. And of course, someone had to open their big mouth and question it, but not in the nicest way they could. “Is this because of Munson? You’re doing what that freak wants now?”
You were completely unaware that Eddie could hear your entire conversation, and he wasn’t exactly overjoyed about the way he was being spoken about. He assumed you were once again going to let those comments about him slide and he didn’t think he wanted to stick around to see how this panned out. So, with little words spoken to his friends, he took off. 
You rolled your eyes. “This isn’t because of him, it’s because you guys are assholes,” you told them. You saw the slight hurt on their faces, but surprisingly didn’t feel bad about it at all. “You’re, like, the worst friends anyone could ever have.”
Marianne scoffed. “Like he’s any better?”
“He is. He’s so much better than any of you will ever be.”
It seemed like none of them really knew what to say. They hadn’t expected this to be the way the conversation panned out– not in a million years actually. “You’re actually defending that freak, right now?” one of them asked. 
You huffed. “Stop calling him that. He has a name!” Even though you had originally felt slightly bad for how things were going down here, the more you spoke and the more they insulted the boy you liked, the more you were grateful that you’d gotten the weight of all of this off of your shoulders. The way your pisces had picked up meant attention was being drawn to you all now– once again you couldn’t have cared less.
“You know what, Y/N, if you’re gonna be his guard dog then you’re off the team.”
You laughed, right in their faces, it was like they had completely disregarded the statement that had started this whole discussion. Could they really kick you off of the team if you had quit moments beforehand. “I’m perfectly okay with that. You’re doing me a favor actually.”
Little did you know, although that conversation hadn’t exactly been heard by Eddie, it had been heard by one of his friends who would be sure to tell him exactly everything that happened after he left. Jeff was positive his friend would want to know. 
After the way you spoke to your ‘friends’ earlier today, you didn’t exactly have anyone to sit with when lunch rolled around. It meant your plan would be able to be carried out easier, considering your full attention could be put on to it, but it did mean you looked a little odd lingering in the doorway of the room. 
In the cafeteria, you had to wait for Dustin’s signal before you were going to make your little scene. He was supposed to tell you when the perfect time was, not only for Eddie, but when the room was at its busiest. The two of you agreed that although it would be terrifying, it was only really meaningful when the most people were there. If you were admitting your love to a crowd of only a couple people, then you weren’t really showing that you meant your words. Instead, you would wait until the peak of lunch, when Eddie had a dip in conversation that would give you the perfect opportunity. 
The signal was a simple wave that you were waiting for. You leaned against the doorframe of the cafeteria entrance, eyes locked on the table where the hellfire club sat, talking theatrically amongst themselves like they always did. Your eyes were on Dustin specifically, though occasionally they would stray to the head of the table where the boy you were desperate to impress sat– unsuspecting of what was about to go down. 
As soon as you saw that brief wave you headed over, ignoring the murmurs from your old friends when they saw you pass by. “Eddie?” you called, sweetly. 
However, he was far from so kind to you, turning to look at you with what could only be called a look of disgust. He sighed, dropping his food back into his lunchbox. “Why can’t you take the hint? Have you really not noticed that I don’t want to talk to you?” It was the first time he’d spoken to you in days, and the most words he’d said in a while now. 
You may have been easily pushed away before, but now you weren’t taking no for an answer. “No, this time you’re going to listen to me.”
He was about to protest, but then you turned to Dustin before he could. 
The curly haired kid offered you a hand, to which you thanked him, stepping up onto the chair and then the table in tow. Eddie was watching you in complete confusion, looking between you and Dustin in the hopes that one of you would give him some idea as to what was going on. He didn’t like being out of the loop like this, and he had no idea when you and the kid had gotten so friendly with one another, but he didn’t love it. 
You cleared your throat, shaking off your hands in an attempt to get rid of all the nerves. “Excuse me?” you yelled. Munson’s heart sank; this wasn’t what he was expecting– he couldn’t even try and take a guess of where this might be going. The chaos of the room calmed down, all eyes turning to look at you. “I have something to say,” you announced.
There were some people who yelled things at you, saying that they didn’t care or stuff along those lines. It earned some laughs, but you weren’t going to let that stop you. 
You took a deep breath, glancing at Eddie once before you looked out around at the groups of people watching you. It was slightly intimidating, especially when you could see your fellow cheerleaders giggling and pointing at you, making literally no effort to hide it. “I’m in love with Eddie Munson!” you yelled. 
There was a chorus of gasps from various places around the room. “You what?” you heard Eddie ask. He sounded entirely shocked. 
Rather than look out at the crowd, you turned to look at him again. This time around you spoke directly to him, rather than to all the other people who didn’t really need to understand the weight of your words. You hoped this way it would appear as though it was coming more from the heart. “I think I’m in love with you. And I’m sorry for being such an asshole, but I need you to forgive me.”
He looked like he didn’t know what to say, so you took the opportunity of the silence to keep talking. 
“I– I wasn’t fair to you, but it’s only been a couple days and I miss you already. And I miss taking care of that dumb baby with you,” you laughed, coaxing him into a chuckle as well. To anyone who wasn’t a senior partaking in the baby assignment, they probably thought you sounded crazy– or you’d actually had a child with Eddie– which was another shocking admission if you had. You liked how promising it was that he was laughing with you. Surely that meant you were back in his good graces. “I don’t know how you did it, but you enchanted me, and I don’t think I can come back from this.”
He was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, a look of interest on his face. It was like he was thinking over what you were proposing, and he wanted to make you sweat. But you could tell he was trying to bite back a smile. “I mean, I guess Ozzy’s missed his mom.”
Your entire expression changed. Those words had filled you with a hope that you couldn’t begin to explain. “So, what d’you say? Give me a second chance?” 
He motioned for you to get down from your place on the table. Like the gentleman he was, he helped you down, and only then did you start to feel a little shy. You didn’t know what it was, considering you’d just been perfectly fine with hundreds of eyes on you. Something felt different now, whether that was just because it felt more real or intimate, you didn’t know. “Hi,” you whispered. 
“You just can’t take no for an answer can you?” he teased. You were glad you could pick up on the fact he was joking, otherwise that sentence would have killed you. He beamed at you as you shook your head, and it was something about your smile that told him he had to kiss you that second. He couldn’t wait another moment for this, not when the last time he’d kissed you had been forever ago. 
You weren’t sure who initiated the kiss first, but you didn’t even care, it just felt right. You both knew people were watching, which probably should have made you a little uncomfortable, but for some reason it didn’t, you actually hoped your ‘friends’ were watching so they could realize how wrong they’d been. Right now you were just completely blinded by everything Eddie. The way his lips felt, the tightness his hand used to grip your waist– like he was scared of you disappearing, and the way your senses just screamed him. 
He was the first one to pull away, though his hand found the back of your head and kept you close. 
You rested your forehead against his, uncaring of those who were still watching you. Most had turned away by now, deciding they didn’t care one bit about your private life, but there were still a few stray spectators. You really didn’t plan on paying them any attention though, not when you knew they were only interested in using this as gossip they could spread around. “I’m so glad this went well,” you breathed, painfully relieved. “Do you know how embarrassing it would have been if you just rejected me while I was up there?” 
That thought made him laugh. “That’s what I should have done. Got your heart racing a little bit,” he tormented. You rolled your eyes, bumping your fist against his arm. His laughter died down a little, the boy suddenly becoming serious. “Thank you. I seriously appreciate the effort you went through to make this apology. No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
It felt like an honor to you to be able to provide him with love he’d never gotten before. “Well, I plan to be around for a while, so there’ll be plenty more where that comes from,” you promised. His whole face lit up. 
“I hope so.” Despite the fact there were still people around, specifically Eddie’s younger friends who were still very much intrigued in the fact the boy had finally managed to get a girlfriend, he kissed you again. 
If the kids wanted to stare like you were some sort of tourist attraction, that was on them. Though they were still planning on vocalizing their disgust. “Guys, come on, your child’s watching,” Mike attempted to force you apart. To be fair to him, it did work, the two of you pulled away from each other laughing, turning your heads to where Ozzy was planted on the table where Eddie had been sitting. 
“Your friends are weird,” you muttered, grinning up at him so he knew you weren’t being judgy, just ‘observing.’ 
He nodded, squeezing you into his side. There was a kind kiss placed on your temple. “Well, you better get used to it. You’re one of us now.”
+ Bonus scene:
Graduation day was a day Eddie never thought he’d see. Out of the three he should’ve seen, he was actually only on his first one. It was an achievement for everyone, but it was a different level of achievement for him. And it was even more incredible that he actually had a girlfriend to share this with. He thought that was another day that would never come. All around, today just felt surreal. 
Wayne had cried once already, though the younger of the two insisted he couldn’t do it again unless he wanted him to get emotional too. And for the most part he’d been able to stick to that promise. 
You and Eddie met up outside the school, something that was pre-planned so the two of you could hang out before the ceremonies started. Your parents were with you, along with your younger brother, the four of you in conversation while you waited. They were actually the ones who noticed him first, and they looked more excited to see him than you did. They loved the idea of you and Eddie– your mother had always thought it was only a matter of time before the two of you got together. 
You only realized he was there after your parents stared over your shoulder for too long. “What are you guys looking at?” you asked, looking behind you to find the two Munson’s approaching– with Wayne fussing over the tie he’d made Eddie wear– he kept claiming it needed to be straightened. 
A small squeal left your lips, rushing over to him before it became clear to him that you were running at him. He was taken a little off guard by your body colliding with his, but he accepted your hug nonetheless, wrapping his arms around you. He was in a better mood than you thought you’d ever seen him– maybe that was because he was finally making it out of school.
“I missed you,” he muttered, pulling back from you to place a kiss on your lips. You grinned, trying not to flush at the behavior, he very easily made you flustered. “You saw me last night,” you reminded him. 
He shrugged. “Still missed you,” he told you, before you pulled him back in for another kiss. To say he was the one claiming he missed you, you were the one who was desperate for him to keep kissing you. Since the day you’d made things official, only a few months back now, you had adored him. At first he thought you might go back on all you said to him the day you admitted your feelings, but you weren’t ashamed of being with him like he worried you’d be. 
The sound of a throat being cleared had Eddie’s eyes snapping open. At the sight of your father, he pulled away– though he didn’t exactly want to. “Uh, as much as I love this greeting, your dad’s sort of watching.” He was right, and it looked as though the man could kill. You groaned, brushing your nose over Eddie’s before you fully pulled away. 
“Well, in that case, we should get going. Let’s go, Munson,” you instructed, tugging on his hand to lead him inside the school building. 
It was all over so quickly. You didn’t know how but it barely felt like any time at all had passed before you’d walked the stage, grabbed your diploma and were now being engulfed in a hug by your loving boyfriend and his uncle. Your family had already suffocated you with love, so now it was their turn. Plus you thought Eddie deserved even more love than you’d received, and both you and Wayne were happy to give that to him for as long as he pleased.
“Munson! I wanted to talk to you.” The sound of a voice calling his last name made his head turn. It also unfortunately meant that your hug had to come to a swift end.
Eddie hadn’t expected for Mr G to need him for anything, but when his beloved teacher called his name, he felt like he had to see what it was that he wanted. It wasn’t like the man could give him detention or anything of the sorts– which he was glad for considering he’d given some of the teachers a few of his true thoughts about them. He’d used some colorful words. 
“What’s up?” he asked.
For a second the teacher's eyes flickered to you, offering you a kind smile when he noticed you were there. It actually made the moment better.
“I’m probably not supposed to. But I thought I’d give you this, for old time’s sake.” He offered out the fake baby that resulted in your relationship, a sweet gesture. It was probably less than practical— in what world does a graduating twenty-year old need a plastic baby from his health class— but it was more about the memories that made it important. You could have sworn you saw Eddie’s eyes water a bit. “The batteries are out, so it won’t start randomly crying or anything. I just thought you might like it. As a reminder of something good that came out of having it for so long.” 
The younger of the two nodded, and you and Wayne watched on fondly. “Thank you. Don’t know how I’d get by in that big cruel world without my Ozzy,” he joked, but the thank you was completely genuine.
Conversation was made for only a short time longer. He bid you and Eddie good luck, and the two of you thanked him for being the indirect reason your relationship had begun, and then all of you were on your way, back with the final member of your little, funny family.
++Bonus bonus scene:
When you and Eddie got together back in highschool, neither of you truly thought you’d last. Even if you wanted to be with him forever, the odds weren’t in your favor, it was rare that highschool relationships made it past college— even though Eddie wasn’t going to college.
But here you were, almost a decade later against all odds. You’d gotten the degree you’d worked your ass off for, with your boyfriend taking the time to visit you at your college of choice as often as he could, and you had landed yourself a pretty decent job that you were proud of. Meanwhile your boyfriend was beginning to make it big in the musical world like he’d wanted. He started off his proper music career the same way it had run in highschool. A couple days a week he’d perform at the hideout, while working part time elsewhere for the money. One day he just got lucky, and now here he was on his way to stardom with you by his side.
Things were good, even better now that there was the impending arrival of your first child. It had been unexpected, but you and Eddie were over the moon either way, and you were going to try to be the best parents you possibly could be— even despite your jobs that require so much time and work. You’d do anything to make it possible to give this baby the most love and best life they deserved.
Just because you had begun to plan for them, didn’t mean you’d considered arguably the most vital part about having a baby. The two of you hadn’t thought about baby names, at all.
The realization didn’t even hit you until you were lying there in the hospital bed, squeezing Eddie’s hand half to death as birth kicked your ass. He was trying to help as best he could, stroking your hair and letting you take your pain out on him. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to what you were feeling, he couldn’t really complain.
“We didn’t pick a name!” you hissed, a sob bubbling up in the back of your throat from the pain. He tried to reassure you that it didn’t matter. He’d heard people say in movies and such before that sometimes the name just comes to you after you see your baby for the first time. And he was desperately hoping for your stress levels that it was true. “We’ll get one baby. I promise.” 
You winced. “There isn’t really a lot of time.” 
He was a lot more concerned about you than a name right now. What was important to him was that you just got this baby here safely, without worrying about anything else. And he told you that, to which you hastily agreed when you were informed it was time for you to start pushing. Though you were terrified beyond words, you didn’t really have much of a choice. But at least you had Eddie there every step of the way to calm your worries in any way that he could. 
There was never a moment where your hand went unheld, or you felt even slightly alone. He was proving once again that he was the most perfect man you had ever met. This was furthered when he showered you in praise after your baby, a healthy baby boy, was set on your chest for the first time. Both of you were emotional, arguably him more than you, but he still made sure you felt eternally loved.
“Any names spring to mind?” he asked, trying to rapidly wipe at the tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He heard you laugh, like a part sigh of relief, and another part so overjoyed.
Your eyes were difficult to pull away from the baby on your chest, but you managed long enough to look your lover in the eye while you provided him with an answer to his question. “Ozzy,” you breathed. “His name’s Ozzy.” 
The nurses might have thought it was weird, because they didn’t understand the backstory behind the name like you and Eddie did, but it meant more to the two of you than you could ever begin to explain. You watched as your boyfriend’s eyes welled up at the mention of the memory that had brought you two together in the very beginning. “That’s perfect. With that name he’s gonna be the coolest baby ever. If only Mr G could see the real Ozzy Munson.” 
You hummed, stroking your thumb over his tiny head. It felt like an impossible task to be able to cherish all the features of the newborn in the way that they deserved. “Maybe he can after things calm down a little. I’m sure he’d like to see the family he played a part in creating.” 
Eddie beamed, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and then Ozzy’s– though the one Ozzy got lingered for much longer. “I think that’d be awesome.”
━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━
eddie munson taglist - @pastel-abyss-x @lilylilyyyyyy @spideysbae @lexi-2004 @escape-in-time-x @liltimmyst @fandomxo00 @youcantseem3 @sharnnnnnn @dreashappyworld @audhd-dragonaut @liltimmyst @ruinedbythehobbit @eddiemsbandana
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mumms-the-word · 5 days
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Shadow Curse Events Pt. 1
Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin
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I’ve played through the game a few times at this point and I always find myself struggling to understand the timeline or at least order of events that occurred with the Shadow Curse. I know some things conflict because there was one version of the story in Early Access (the version where Halsin accidentally killed Isobel) and it was heavily altered for the final version of the game, and some things just got *gestures vaguely* waved away, but I keep wanting to make sense of it anyway.
So that’s what this post (edit: I mean series) is going to do. After the cut, obviously. Long deep dive post ahead! Picture of a tired Ketheric for attention and because same bro c':
TLDR: These events happen either in the 1370s or the 1390s. Ketheric loses Melodia (his wife) and Isobel (his daughter) and turns to Shar. He captures Aylin, then builds a Big Dark Justiciar Army, training them and forcing them to kill Aylin over and over. Meanwhile, a Selûnite resistance is brewing in the town, and it's kind of making everything worse. One Selûnite rebel even goes so far as to make a deal with a devil. And all of that is BEFORE the Harpers and druids arrive as an army.
We don’t have dates, unfortunately, aside from knowing that the shadow curse itself was unleashed about a century ago, so “timeline” would be a loose term to use if/when I use it. But I have two theories about when it happened.
One theory is that because the Spellplague was happening between 1385-1395 DR (during which there was neither a true Weave nor a Shadow Weave, which is what the shadow curse is made of), the shadow curse likely started around 1396-1399, just shy of a full 100 years before the game’s events in 1492. But that’s just me conjecturing based on the idea that if the Shadow Weave is gone…how does the shadow curse stick around? 
The other theory is that the shadow curse was unleashed sometime between 1371 and 1374. This is because a) Dark Justiciars were still being sent by Ketheric Thorm to destroy Moonhaven (the Blighted Village) in 1371 (Ketheric writes a letter about attacking Moonhave and a journal dated 1371 boasts that Ilyn Toth, the basement apothecary-necromancer dude, got killed by Dark Justiciars) and b) because Khelben Arunsun himself, the literal Blackstaff (super powerful and very old wizard), wrote a letter negotiating surrender on behalf of the Harpers.
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We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies.
Wiki says Khelben broke his alliance with the Harpers in 1370 due to some disagreements, but it’s possible his splinter faction was at the battlefield with the other Harpers. I doubt he was there personally, but who knows. I wouldn’t go any earlier than 1371, though, because Baldur’s Gate II happens in 1369, and Jaheira would have been too busy dealing with those events to deal with Ketheric too. But it can’t be later than 1374,  because Khelben Arunsun dies in 1374.
(I have questions about how the shadow curse survived the Spellplague and the loss of the Shadow Weave, but the answer to that could simply be All Magic Was Weird and Unstable at the time…plus Thaniel was already in the Shadowfell by this time, so the land couldn't heal.)
So it’s either 1371-1374 (because of the Khelben timeline, and I guess the Spellplague didn’t affect it) or it’s 1396-1399 (because of the Spellplague, but the writers just forgot Khelben was dead by that point, or maybe his ghost wrote the surrender notice idk). Both are good enough for Halsin and Jaheira to talk about things happening “a century ago,” but you can see why I’m avoiding dates.
But let’s push it back a few more decades. Back when Ketheric was a Selûnite and Isobel a very small child.
As we’re probably all well aware, during this time, Ketheric worships Selûne along with his wife, Melodia. At some point, he even commissions the local Mason’s Guild to build Moonrise as a testament to Selûne herself, according to Morfred the mason (who you can talk to in House of Hope, it’s pretty cool). Ketheric and Melodia have Isobel, but then Melodia dies while Isobel is still pretty young. Ketheric remains a Selûnite, mostly for Isobel’s sake, until she dies too.
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Ketheric: I’ll tell you a story, True Soul. About a man who sold himself piece by piece. He had…everything. A wonderful wife. A brilliant daughter. They lived not far from here. His wife died too young. Grief tore through their home like a thief, snatching away the scent of her hair, the rustle of her skirts. But the man did not break. He could not break. His daughter needed him whole, after all. She grew up—grew strong. Challenged him. Filled his heart with such joy it supplanted all sorrow. When she was killed, the man…he tried to remain whole, but it wasn’t possible. Do you understand? Player: So the man fell to pieces. Ketheric: The pain was unbearable. All-consuming. He decided he’d do anything for reprieve. First, he sold himself to the goddess of loss. But the pain did not subside, no matter his obscene feats of devotion. Then a new god came—a god who promised the man something wonderful: his daughter. Her life returned. Imagine it. He would have to give everything: his body and soul entire. He did not hesitate. Not for a moment.
We know this story. Ketheric turns to Shar and everything goes Very, Very Badly. But the exact details/order of Ketheric's Sharran days are a little hazy. So here's what I've been able to piece together to sate my own curiosity.
While Ketheric is still a faithful (but waning) Selûnite, Dame Aylin visits as an emissary of Selûne. Moonrise/Reithwin is a Selûnite refuge and the Thorms are allegedly devout favorites of the moon goddess, so it's a big deal. While she's there, she and Isobel fall in love. Ketheric disapproves, in part because Aylin is immortal and Isobel is not (Isobel and Aylin both say this in dialogue).
Plus, and this is a personal opinion, I think Ketheric might have seen Aylin's interest in Isobel as another thing Selûne was trying to take from him. It isn't enough that Selûne let Melodia die, now her daughter is trying to woo his daughter and take her too.
But then Isobel dies. Somehow. The launch version of the game isn’t clear how. Aylin mourns but Ketheric spirals. He turns to Shar, hoping she will force him to forget about Isobel, but he doesn't. Nevertheless, he becomes a zealous Sharran.
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[A journal spanning years, beginning with the birth of a child and ending with what appears to be a series of dateless tragedies.] How can she be gone? Where did she go? The Moonmaiden cannot be so unfeeling - so cruel. Not toward her most devoted servant. Not after Melodia. It makes no sense. It makes no sense. I won't survive it. That much I know. Forgetting is the only possibility. The embrace of oblivion. The reprieve of nothingness. It would not be possible for a man to survive knowing what he knows. Knowing what can be lost. Shar understands that. Hers is the only mercy I can comprehend. My mind is full of holes - yet not enough. The emptiness. The time. The nothingness. And still I remember. Still I remember it all. There is no mercy in this beating heart. There is no mercy in life at all.
He builds the Gauntlet of Shar (or maybe renovates and Shar-ifies it, maybe it was already there) beneath the Thorm mausoleum, connecting it to the much more ancient Grymforge area. Grymforge becomes a kind of base or stronghold for the Justiciar army while the Gauntlet is designed to test their mettle and prepare them for the task that will make them official Dark Justiciars—killing Aylin, though it's not clear when Ketheric and Balthazar lure her into the Shadowfell.
I'll get back to that later.
We know that Grymforge was used as a Dark Justiciar stronghold and possible training ground because of all the Sharran stuff we find there. It's like super obvious. The feasthall room, the dormitories, the weapons that lay everywhere. There's basically a whole Sharran city in the Underdark beneath and near Reithwin, some of which we can see from various points in Grymforge. In fact, if you go through the poisoned room where Nere is, you can see the Gauntlet down below.
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(It's a little hard to see here 'cause I play on console but there's a glimpse of the giant Shar statue that takes up a ton of space in the Gauntlet. Somehow, the two places used to connect.)
Ketheric's new Sharran teachings are ruthless and vicious. He encourages his Dark Justiciars to kill a Selûnite once a tenday or more as part of their training and service to the Lady of Loss.
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The Law of Nightfall: From the moon falls the foulest of lights. iIt peeks through cracks and fissures, illuminating the most remote recesses of the Underdark. Light bestows hope, a pernicious notion which must be extinguished. At the darkest hour, pray to your Lady and feast in Her honour. The second day after, slay a disciple of Selûne. If none may be found, a Lathanderian or Mystran are an acceptable offering. Do this once a tenday, and the Lady of Loss shall know you.
Reithwin and the surrounding village soon become a hunting ground. Most people convert. Those who don't get hung in the square as examples (according to a shadow memory). All faithful Selûnites are forced to practice their devotion to the Moonmaiden in secret, led by Morfred the mason and his brother Halfred the innkeeper of Last Light Inn. Halfred hides Selûnite relics beneath Last Light (you can still find them) while Morfred plots a true resistance.
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[Hidden amidst columns detailing the income and expenditure of a tavern is an aside, written in tiny, urgent handwriting.] I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm.
But as time goes on, Morfred grows increasingly distressed with the events happening in Reithwin and the ease with which people are eager to switch faiths.
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- How quickly things change. The Thorms are Selûnite through and through - or so I believed. Perhaps Ketheric only converted for Melodia, and with her death - and then his daughter's - his faith died too. But to turn to Shar? It beggars belief. - Ketheric's Justiciars are growing greater in number, and more determined to rout out any traces of Selûne in Reithwin. Why do they think this town was built? One cannot rip out the foundations of a building and expect it to remain standing. - Brother and I remain the last two bastions of Our Lady of Silver in the town. A few - the trusting few - come to worship in secret by moonlit nights. Others - converts, all. Whether they truly believe, I cannot say. Impossible, isn't it?
(Don't worry, the second page is further down lol spoilers!)
Life is not going well in Reithwin, even if you're not a Selûnite. Ketheric is determined to destroy all traces of Selûne and treason of any kind. His Dark Justiciars begin tormenting citizens to reveal pockets of Selûnite resistance. He also suffers no treasonous word against him, even if the citizens in question aren't Selûnite. We see a glimpse of this and of the Justiciars' cruel influence during the questline with He Who Was and Madeline, who ratted out her friends' innocent(?) complaints about Ketheric to some Justiciars, resulting in their brutal deaths.
Eventually Morfred realizes that the Dark Justiciars are too powerful to resist and turns to Raphael, offering his soul in exchange for something to destroy the Dark Justiciar army.
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- Sick of standing idle while Justiciars gain power in our humble town. What will become of us if we allow it? I met a man who was no man. Touched by a devil. Or maybe worse. But he offered me something I couldn't refuse - help. - The time is now. Ketheric's Justiciars, their stronghold in the temple below - they will be wiped out. All of them. I didn't ask how. I just want them gone. Let the Harpers have at Ketheric now. They'll make short work of him.
You can ask Morfred about this in the House of Hope, actually, where he confirms the details. I mean, he's in Raphael's house, so it's pretty obvious the he did, in fact, make a deal with him.
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Infernal Mason: When tragedy came, my master fell into darkness and despair. He marshalled a great army to ruin the world and bring all into shadow. I could not let it happen. I sought out the devil Raphael and signed an infernal pact with him. He promised to destroy my master’s army, and I promised him my soul in return. The devil was true to his word. Fiends slaughtered my master’s forces, but he endured somehow, and blighted the land.
The Fiend in question here is Yurgir, who ends up crashing through Grymforge and the Gauntlet to kill all Dark Justiciars in his path. (He misses one, because Raphael is a sneaky bastard who let one get away by turning him into a swarm of rats, but I digress.) We know Yurgir caused the destruction in Grymforge, too, because of the Merregon masks and hellbeasts we find around the area, and the fact that if you pass all the checks with the Duergar mason examining the stone, he helps you piece together this narrative:
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Stonemason Kith: An ancient city, hewn from the stone by the disciples of Shar, later abandoned. Untold centuries later, a new tribe revives it. Fresh walls, fresh sculptures...until a great hellbeast charges through, toppling the walls and crushing the people! Heh - that explains the infernal plate I found. Perhaps you might have use of it.
Further proof that Grymforge and the Gauntlet were once connected...somehow.
Anyway, by the time Yurgir is called in, Morfred's already been found out. Thisobald overhears him drunkenly complaining about Ketheric in the Waning Moon and informs Ketheric of his treachery. Ketheric orders a raid on the mason's guild, leaving Halfred the lone source of Selûnite resistance. It's unknown what becomes of Halfred, but considering the fact that the inn was still taking guests (like Art Cullagh) and housing the Harpers right before the shadow curse descended (there's a shadow memory of a Harper toasting his comrades in Last Light right before the battle with Ketheric long ago), it's likely he's a victim of the curse and not Justiciar brutality.
I’m not sure which is worse, honestly.
It's unclear when Morfred dies, though he admits to witnessing the first part of the shadow curse (i.e., "...but he endured somehow, and blighted the land"). But Morfred's deal coincides in some ways with the arrival of the Harpers and druids. I think he probably makes the deal with Raphael before the Harpers officially march against Ketheric and then gets caught after he hears rumors of the Harpers.
Raphael makes good on his deal around the same the Harpers arrive, perhaps a little afterward. This means Yurgir's slaughter of Justiciars in the Underdark must happen concurrently with the battle happening topside between Ketheric's army and the Harpers/druids, meaning Ketheric is losing his army on two fronts at the same time. Victory seems assured for the Harpers and druids, but of course we know now that Ketheric had a way of cheating death already in place.
He had already imprisoned the Nightsong in a Shadowfell soul cage.
Again, we’re not sure exactly when this happens, but it’s after Isobel dies and before the shadow curse, which unleashes with Ketheric’s supposed death in the battle against the Harpers and druids. However, Aylin herself says that Ketheric and Balthazar lured her into the Shadowfell under the pretense of saving an innocent.
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Dame Aylin: He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind. I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while.
This makes me think that Aylin wasn’t aware of Ketheric’s conversion yet, so it must have been very soon after, because otherwise, why would she trust a known Sharran telling her to enter the Shadowfell, the realm that is entirely under Shar’s control? I also suspect Ketheric built (or renovated) the Gauntlet around Aylin after her capture, perhaps at the behest of Shar due to their collaboration in making up new Justiciar teachings, or perhaps out of a sick, vengeful desire to see Aylin tormented for daring to love his daughter.
If this is true, then there’s a very real chance that Ketheric was unkillable before he truly started to torment Reithwin town, and well before the Harpers stepped in to take him down.
Anyway we at least know that Ketheric trapped Aylin in the Shadowfell before the big battle against the Harpers because a) both Isobel and Aylin talk about her being there for a century and b) because Ketheric is already using her invulnerability to survive assassination attempts on his life prior to or during the actual battle against him and his army:
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23 Elient The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.
This brings us to the eve of the battle itself. But this post is already hella long, so keep an eye out for part 2, all about the Harper and druid battle against Ketheric!
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sturniozo · 7 days
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Our Lips Are Sealed VI
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Masterlist
The car ride home was silent. My dad had decided very early in the morning to wake me up and take me home. The sun was barely even coming up when I was dragged out of bed. I guess my dad decided he just couldn’t wait to get me out of the house. He just couldn’t wait to get rid of me for good.
I keep staring out the window during the silent drive. I wonder if Nate or my mom are even awake right now. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if Nate hasn’t even gone to sleep yet. He probably spent the whole night staying up and playing Fortnite with Matt and Nick.
Chris had stayed up almost all night with me. He stayed on the phone with me until we both fell asleep, something we used to do all the time. Chris and I had spent almost every night on the phone together almost two years ago, but I had stopped it from happening again once I had realized my feelings for him.
I hadn’t noticed when my dad had pulled into the driveway. He snapped me out of my thoughts by shouting.
“We’re here, did you not fucking notice?” He says loudly. I flinch slightly.
“Sorry, dad, I was just a bit tired.” I mumble and open the door to get out.
“I’m tired too, you think I wanted to get up at the crack of dawn to take your ass home?” My dad says spitefully.
“I didn;t ask you to, I was supposed to stay until Sunday night.” I tell him.
“Well last night you couldn’t wait to go home!” He shouts.
“I didn’t want to go!” Tears fill my eyes. “You never listen to me.” I step out of the truck.
“You were a lot easier to listen to when you were five and all it took was a doll to make you happy. Now I can never make you happy, no matter how hard I try. You’re just like your mother!”
I slam the door of my dad’s truck loudly and make my way to the front door of my house. I see the light from Nate’s room turn on from the upstairs window. His shadow makes its way to pull the curtain where he sees me walking to the door. He quickly moves away from the window and leaves his room. He makes it to the front door as I do, indicating he ran to the door.
“Is everything alright?” Nate asks as he watches my dad pull out of the driveway.
I just nod, hiding my face so he doesn’t see my tears. Nate wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me inside with him, closing the door behind us. We sit down on the couch and I finally look at Nate. His face softens as he sees my tear stained face.
“Tell me what happened?” Nate asks.
I take a deep breath to calm myself down as I begin to tell Nate everything that happened. Everything that happened with my dad over the weekend, or just the one night I spent there. Once I had finished explaining everything Nate pulled me in for a hug.
Nate’s always been a good brother. A nice brother that I could always count on when I needed anything. “Everything will be okay.” He mumbles against my shoulder as we hug. I pull away and wipe off my face. “It’s okay, hey, it's okay.” Nate repeats. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” I say. “I’m fine, really. I wasn’t going to go back anyways.” I shrug it off.
“Yeah, but you still like your dad, at least a little bit.” Nate laughs softly.
“You never talk to your dad anymore. It’s been like, what, two years?” I snort.
Nate scoffs. “My dad is a piece of work.”
“Piece of shit’s more like it.” I say, which causes Nate to laugh softly.
“Yeah, it is.” He smiles and leans back against the couch. “You never got to meet him and know just how true that is, though.”
I lean back against the couch with Nate. “No, but I got to hear you talk shit every time you came home.”
“Those stories were watered down versions.” Nate mumbles.
I sigh and close my eyes. “I didn’t mean to piss my dad off so bad.”
“I know.” Nate says. “Do you want breakfast?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I just want to go to sleep. Dad woke me up early.”
“Okay.” Nate mumbles.
I sit up from the couch and pick up my bag, going to walk up the stairs.
“I’ll wake you up in a few hours, when Nick, Matt, and Chris get here.” Nate says as he follows me up the stairs.
“Nick, Matt, and Chis are coming over?” I ask.
“Yeah, they were gonna spend the night here before we go camping for your birthday tomorrow.” Nate says, stopping at the door to his room.
“Well thats nice I guess.” I mumble as I stop at my door.
“What, you suddenly don’t like them?” Nate laughs.
“What? No, I love them like they’re my brothers.” I laugh.
“Good, because they are.” Nate leans against his door.
“What?” I ask.
“I- I don’t want you to see them as anything but your friends, brothers. Nothing more.” Nate says.
“I don’t, they’re just friends to me. Brothers.”
“Good.”
“Whats this about?” I ask.
Nate just sighs. “Nothing, just… Just get some sleep. You need it, you look like shit.”
I snort. “You’re one to talk.”
“Hey!” Nate laughs. “I’m always looking great.”
“You always look like shit.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Stinky boy.” I tease.
“Go to bed, before I tell Chris about your doll collection.” Nate crosses his arms.
“Good night!” I say with a laugh and open my door, walking into my room. I plop down onto my bed, tossing my bag onto the floor. I kick off my shoes and shimmy up to my pillows, snuggling against my stuffed animals. It doesn’t take me long to pass out.
I’m unsure of just how long it had been since I had fallen asleep, but I’m awoken by the weight of four nineteen year old boys doggy piling on top of me. Chris was at the bottom, right above me, supporting the weight of all of them so I wasn’t absolutly crushed to death.
“Jesus!” I wheeze out. “What’s wrong with you guys?”
Nate laughs from the top of the pile. “You would’t wake up.” He says.
“Yeah,” Chris chimes in. “ We thought this would wake you up.”
“What, killing me?” I wheeze out a laugh. “Get off me, before I become like that kid from the weird book we read in elementary school.”
Nate flops off the top of the pile, followed by Nick, and then Matt. Leaving Chris hovering over me.
“You too.” Nate says sternly.
Chris says nothing as he sits up and steps off my bed. I turn over to face the boys in my bedroom. “What time is it?” I ask.
“Almost noon.” Matt replies.
“Oh, so early.” I mumble and sit up.
“Yeah, extra early.” Nate sits on the bed ext to me. “Get some breakfast or something so we can start packing for the camping trip.”
I groan and lay back down. “Five more minutes.”
Chris takes my hands and pulls me back up. “You’ve had six hours.” He laughs.
“Come on,” Nick says. “We convinced your mom to let us start the camping trip a day early.”
“What?” I ask as I sit up straight.
“Yeah.” Chris smiles at me. “We’re leaving tonight.”
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lo1k-diamonds · 20 days
Text
Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1
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PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC
SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.
"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.
A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).
WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)
GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l
RATING: Explicit
WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens
(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)
A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)
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"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho
What were the odds?
“Freya, are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.
Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”
Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again. 
The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”
Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.
“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”
“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory. 
“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”
“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”
“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”
Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”
She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?
“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”
Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.
Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.
Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!
She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.
Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.
Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.
Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.
Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming. 
Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”
Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.
Click.
She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.
“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”
Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.
“Boys.”
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He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.
Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.
Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.
He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.
If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.
There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.
He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks. 
She was there. She was there somewhere.
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He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.
“Freya, what’s wrong?”
Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.
Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”
Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth. 
How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?
That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.
Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.
There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.
She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.
Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”
The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.
She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.
"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.
She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.
She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.
The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.
Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.
She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful. 
Click.
She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.
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He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.
When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.
"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.
"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."
"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.
"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.
"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.
"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.
"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."
"What?"
"Are you sick?"
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."
Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed. 
They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."
He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?
"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."
"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.
"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.
Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.
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The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.
She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.
Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.
The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.
But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.
"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.
"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.
She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.
She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.
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Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.
"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough. 
Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.
"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked. 
He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.
He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.
He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.
When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.
People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.
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Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.
The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.
She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.
Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.
But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.
She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.
Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?
They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it. 
She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.
She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.
“What’s your name?”
Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world? 
Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.
“What’s your name?”
His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.
She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.
Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.
She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.
His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.
For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?
She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.
“You… What's your name?”
Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.
After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.
He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."
She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.
She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.
She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to. 
She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'
Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.
Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.
Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.
Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her. 
She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.
He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.
She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.
It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in. 
Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.
She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.
He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”
It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.
He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”
She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt. 
Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home. 
It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.
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You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜
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zoros-sheath · 1 month
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Let's Make a Date! Buggy The Genius Jester
Modern AU Buggy x F!Reader
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• SFW • 2.7K Words • Third Place Rankings!
• Let's Make a Date! Valentine's 2024 Masterlist
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• Author's Notes: On the third day of Valentine's, Mama Sheath gave to you... a wild Buggy story that started to get away from me, lol.
Since he got "Married Long Term", I had to think about what marriage to Buggy would be like. This is also considering that he would possibly be running a circus in a modern AU, and so you aren't just marrying him, you marry the whole family. And some relation to other stories this week coming back to each other, and I am kinda mad now I didn't do that for Mihawk's.
Anyway, Third place votes were Buggy, Married Long Term, Hawaiian Shirt, Swim Trunks, and Sandals, Gifts you a Cheesy Stuffed Bear, Quaint and Scenic Outdoor Picnic, and Going To the Zoo. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I also needed to give him a full name. The name is not canon at all, but you will all be repeating it over and over again, as I and a few others have the last few days.
And I am sorrynot sorry for the metal image you are all about to get of Mr. 3. Gonna gloss over that, TOMORROW DOFLAMINGO WITH THE FOURTH PLACE VOTES!
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• Your wonderful husband Buggy has come a long way since the two of you first met with his terrible spending habits. When it seems that old habit comes back in possibly the worst way ever, you confront him on the spot. To help smooth things over, he recreates the first Valentines date the two of you had together all those years ago.
• CW: None, except non-canon full name for Buggy, and maybe the idea of Mr. 3 trying to be sexy for Alvida haunting you for a few days.
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Your husband had always been a man of misfortune. One way or another, everything would often go wrong, and yet he always seemed to come out of it on the other side smelling of the proverbial roses. He managed to pull you somehow, but you were never as affected by his bad luck as he was, if even at all.
Buggy could never believe his luck when he met you, let alone the luck he had asking you out on a date, and you were pretty sure the day he finally proposed might have given him a heart attack when you said yes. It was cute, even when he nearly fainted because he forgot to breathe. No matter what, you knew he loved you deeply, even with his rather bold and flashy tastes, despite his position as the owner of a traveling circus. Before you, he lived well above his means, but luckily he married a rather talented accountant who already worked remotely and had a successful vlog.
To say you ran away and joined his circus was an understatement.
It was a circus in more ways than one, and love him as you did, you had to spend a lot of your early years together reigning in Buggy’s spending. Finances were probably one of the few things you ever really fought on, but when it nearly ruined your marriage a few years ago, Buggy had the mind to at least put every account in your total control, and even agreed to a generous allowance. If he wished to get anything for the circus over 500 beri, he had to have your permission. Granted, as his wife and with everyone being a close-knit group, it was rare you weren’t in the loop. A sudden expense alert on your credit card brought to your attention that a large purchase of a new motorcycle yesterday was a very big red flag to you, and could only be one thing.
That was why everyone knew what was happening when you screamed his full name across the current circus camp.
“BUGULUS ULYSSES RAMSEY GOODWIN THE THIRD!”
Your husband dropped all the juggling balls in his hands, frozen in place as his body broke out in a cold sweat. Mohji grimaced as Cabaji whistled low, shaking his head with a tsking noise, “Someone’s in trouble.”
“Full name, too…” Mohji covered Richie’s ears.
Buggy still did not move, looking as if he may have stopped breathing, “I feel like a shadow has been cast over my grave…”
“DON’T MAKE ME CALL YOU A SECOND TIME!” The words were more of a threat than a command.
Mohji gave Buggy a reassuring pat on the shoulder, your husband sighing heavily as he resigned to his fate. His feet felt like lead as they turned around and headed for your shared trailer, though for once in his life, he had no idea what he could have done to elicit his full name from you in such a manner. He had saved up for the bike with his allowance that he was going to show off to you tomorrow and take you on a fun trip around town just the two of you for Valentine’s Day; washed it good and everything without you finding out today. What on earth could have set you off this way?
He opened the door to your shared trailer, instantly greeted with your phone in his face and what he could only describe as a wave of crushing anger emitting from your body. Buggy knew firsthand what a terrifying woman you could be, heavens above did he know. Your husband was no stranger to your temper the few times he had seen it in his life, but this? His life was on the line.
“Caramel Apple of My Eye—” he knew how to butter you up, your husband just really hoped it was enough, “—I really have no idea what I’m looking at…”
You pointed at the numbers on your screen, “FIVE THOUSAND BERRIES!?”
Buggy’s eyes went wide, looking at the screen. How did it notify you? He paid for the bike on his card with the money from his bank account that his allowance went into. As per the rules, he was allowed to spend only that money however he wanted, “I—Sweetest Cupcake, why are you looking at my account?”
“Your account!?” You scoffed at your husband, “This is the Circus Account, Bugulus!”
He winced at your use of his proper first name, but then did a double take as he grabbed your phone from you, “WHAT!?”
Rewinding the last twenty-four-plus hours in his mind, Buggy began retracing everything that had happened from the moment he woke up the day before until this moment staring at your phone screen. He got up, gave you the usual snuggles, cuddles, and kisses—both in bed and in the morning shower together—then made breakfast. Mohji and Cabaji came by because they were going to be in charge of the supply run now that the circus was stopped in their new destination. Since Buggy was ready to get the motorcycle (his master plan for ultimate romance!), he said he would go with them to help carry things. It worked out better this way, despite the money issues, you did trust your husband with the circus’ business card over the other two. You handed it off, and they went to run the errands. Both his card for his personal account and the circus’ business card were through the same bank and looked the same.
Buggy realized his mistake: he used the business card instead of his own.
Sweating bullets, your blue-haired husband fell to his knees, spilling the beans on the surprise and buying the bike and his sea king-sized hubris not paying closer attention to what he had done. He understood completely why you were mad at him, but he would do anything—anything—to make it up to you, even if it meant draining his account out totally and closing it forever.
Pinching the space between your eyes, you sighed heavily. It was just a mistake, and you shouldn’t have gotten so mad without hearing him out first. But you kind of did enjoy his groveling right now, Buggy was always hot on his knees…
“Buggy,” you started, shaking your head, “I’m sorry for yelling at you, and thank you for realizing the mix-up, but you have to be more careful.” You let out a small huff as he stood back up, now looking down at you, “Luckily we had the money in the account to cover it. More than enough these days, but just don’t let it happen again, okay? We’ll work out your repayment later. I’m far too tired tonight…”
You rest your face against his chest, letting out a deep sigh. It was the start of tax season, the busiest time for yourself, and it never helped your temper much. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “Still sorry, Baby Girl. I’ll be more careful and pay better attention.” Buggy breathed out a sigh of relief, this could have been far worse, and he knew the anxiety of his past habits must have reared its ugly head. He had done far better not to be that man again, at least in the way of his lavish spending, and had become a far better man since you first came into his life.
Hugging him back tightly, you took in his scent, “I appreciate that, but you know you’re still in trouble, right?”
Your husband cocked a brow, a small smirk on his face as he anticipated something a little more playful, “Oh yeah? And what punishment did you have in mind?”
Imagine his surprise when you kicked him out of the trailer to “go sleep with Richie for the night.”
Sitting on a crate, Buggy rubbed his face as Richie, their oldest, near-retired lion, lay on his side under the stars. He wasn’t actually going to sleep with Richie, but he needed to cool down. Since he confessed his plan to you about riding the motorcycle around town for Valentine’s Day, you told him while you appreciated the thought, you didn’t even want to look at it right now.
“So you getting divorced yet?” His half-sister, Alvida, stood next to him, having brought Richie his dinner. Richie was a spoiled lion in his older age, and everyone loved on him—he was missing teeth and was mostly used for “Lion Rides” with small children, given how docile he was.
“Har, har,” Buggy rolled his eyes, “You’re hilarious, Vi.”
His half-sister hummed, scratching Richie through his mane, “She’s too good for you, Gy. Don’t get me wrong, I love Y/N, but I wish she had better taste.” Alvida then sat next to Buggy on the crate, nudging him with her shoulder, “You okay at least?”
Buggy nudged her back, “Didn’t know you cared so much. And my wife was perfect taste, she picked me after all.” His statement puffed him back up a bit more, but then slumped his shoulders as his nose let out a small wheezing squeak from the cold, making him get a little stuffy, “But now I have to rethink my whole Valentine’s idea. I’m at a loss…”
Alvida shrugged, “It’s not like you have to be your usual flashy self—” Buggy looked at her appalled, “—I mean, you two have been together for a long time. Just because your wife is hotter and younger than you, doesn’t mean you have to pull the stops out all the time. Think back to your first Valentine’s together. When she still worked for Crocodile and she was coming around to work out your payments on the loan he gave you.”
For the second time that night, Buggy reflected on how you two met. You were working more in the private sector at the time under Crocodile, whom Buggy had met and known for a time when they were kids and his parents put him in a regular school for a little while. They kept in contact even when his parents decided to take the circus on the road again, but mostly because Crocodile was a good (using the term loosely) person to keep in his back pocket. When the circus was first struggling after Buggy took over (going back to his previous spending habits), he had gone to the shrewd businessman for a loan and struggled to pay it back until you came into his life.
That first Valentine’s Day, he was flat broke, but he could cook and make a picnic for the two of you. After that, you both walked around the local zoo in that city. Shortly after, you two eloped, and Buggy was pretty sure Crocodile had still not forgiven him. Especially now that Alvida was dating the man who got your previous position, Galdino Three. Mr. Three, as he insisted everyone called him, was currently in Alvida’s trailer, and that was more than Buggy needed to ever know.
“For once in your life, you have a good idea, Vi,” Buggy nudged his sister again, “I may even have the outfit I wore at the time in the storage truck.” He rubbed his chin, thinking hard.
Alvida smiled, shaking her head. They didn’t always get along, but they were still family after all, “All of my ideas are good. You’re just an idiot.”
Buggy got up to grab Mohji and Cabaji for assistance, also because he was right outside of his half-sister’s trailer, and Galdino came out in only a zebra-stripped thong, requesting she come back inside. Again, it was far more than he ever wanted to know.
The next afternoon, you were brought out of your work by a knock on the door, having expected Buggy to have come back far earlier than this. You were surprised to find a giant teddy bear holding an “I Love You” heart being held up by Buggy. More so because you hadn’t seen it in years, as it was once ripped apart by Richie in a fit of jealousy because you weren’t letting him snuggle it after you had just managed to wash it and hang it out to dry. Now, it was patched together and restuffed, almost brand new. A genuine laugh escaped you, stepping out of the trailer, “Buggy-Boo—” his favorite nickname for you to call him, “—What on earth? You fixed Lovey-bear?”
Your husband nodded, poking his head out and around the other side of the giant stuffed animal, “Yep. Cabaji and Mohji helped.” This means Cabaji got impatient watching the two of them not stitch fast enough and did the majority of it, as he sewed most of the costumes, “I was looking for something in the storage truck last night, and couldn’t not do something about it. I gave him to you our first Valentine’s after all.”
Again you laughed, suddenly looking at what Buggy was wearing: A tacky Hawaiian shirt with a pair of swim trunks and flip-flops with socks. It was the same outfit he wore on your first Valentine’s Day together. At the time most of the circus was still dependent on laundromats for cleaning their clothes, and all of Buggy’s had gotten stolen out of the one he used except a few mismatched and older pieces still in his closet. Your cheeks were both red from laughing so much at the memory and from just how much you loved your idiot of a husband.
He presented the hand-packed basket, not the same meal as your first Valentine’s Day, but a good one at that of sandwiches, fruits, some cookies, and a few bottles of champagne. Granted, you probably wouldn’t even finish one between the two of you, but he was also very indecisive when it came to which high-end bottle that was still in reserve he wanted to open.
The two of you walked over to a hill overlooking the outskirts of the current city and the circus camp, watching everyone get the tent up and do checks to prepare for the few months they would spend in this town. You and Buggy both took pictures and videos for the vlog (now that you had turned it into general daily life at the circus). After getting a good picture of him kissing your cheek, you told him that would be the next thumbnail.
Afterward, you two hopped in the car and headed to the local zoo, walking around and looking at the animals hand in hand. You told him how thoughtful it was for him to recreate your first Valentine’s Day together, and while at first, he tried to take credit, Buggy finally caved and admitted it was all Alvida’s idea.
“Yeah, she already told me,” you giggled, “Video called me from her trailer. I did not need to ever see that much of Galdino’s ass, but here we are.”
Your husband made a face, tossing his blue ponytail over his shoulder, “Yeah, I got a full frontal view of him in his underwear… at least I hope it was his underwear…” he let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders, “I really hope they don’t get married. At least not soon. I don’t think Croc will let me live if I take another one of his accountants.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’d be that upset. Especially with his new gal.” You shrugged your shoulders, looking out over the kung fu dugongs as they swam around and fought each other playfully in their enclosure.
Buggy did a double take, an astonished look on his face, “His what?”
“Yeah, his new girlfriend,” you stated his name to her, “She’s in our group chat. Do you not check it anymore? Today’s their first anniversary.”
Your husband’s gaze flashed back out over the dugongs, practicing their fighting forms, “Huh… Croc’s settling down. Who’d have thought?”
Giggling, you began pulling him along to go look at the bananawani, “Yeah, they even have dogs now. Little pugs. They’re pretty darn cute.”
Buggy snorted loudly, “Crocodile as a dog Dad? To pugs? Now I’ve heard everything.” He held your hand tightly as you two walked along, then leaned in to kiss your cheek, moving to put his arm around your shoulder, “You know what, good for him. Hope he can now understand why you ran away and joined the circus.”
Your arm went around his waist, standing in front of the bananawani, “Yeah, I’m a lucky woman to have fallen for such a great man.”
He grinned ear to ear, tilting your head to look up at him, “Yeah you are.” Then kissed you softly, “And I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Chuckling to yourselves, you both looked out over the bananawani together, before he finally looked down at you, “So, there’s a group chat?”
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59 notes · View notes
stratusjay · 11 months
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La Reina y La Guardia
Someone asked for part two of In The Shadow. So here it is. I hope you enjoy.
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After winning the World Cup, you had a bunch of media events to do but now it was time to relax. You were spending time with Jessie in Corsica there was everything the both of you liked here sun, beach and mountain well good hiking spot and beautiful point of view. You had spent the first two days sunbathing and resting but Jessie was getting a bit angsty so you had gone on a hike today and now you were relaxing on the couch listening to music while she was doing a puzzle. She would look up to you from time to time, she had been doing that since a bit of time now and you were asking yourself what was happening but you knew better than to push.
-What happened in that pool contest ?
I wracked my brain trying to understand what she was talking about and when I finally gave up and looked at her with incomprehension she explained.
-In one of your interviews you said that Alexia got you punished because of a pool contest and since then I am asking myself what happened ?
-You watch my interviews ? you tried to dodge the question.
-Yes when I miss you. Jessie’s cheeks were crimson.
-Oh that’s cute! I love you. I confess I also watch the edit fan makes of your best moments on the pitch and the others too. 
Jessie smiled at me and got back to her puzzle and when I thought I was safe.
-And I still want that story, your attempts at distracting aren’t gonna work.
-Okay well it was worth a try. Alexia challenged me during a vacation, we were around 8 and 15 years old I think … The challenge was about doing the craziest jump possible and I was probably losing so I decided to jump from the roof of the little shed by the pool and while I was preparing Mamà walked in on us. Alexia got punished for proposing something so stupid and not stopping me and me for not using my brain cells. Like I said the worst punishment was and still is No Dessert.
-No Dessert, finished Jessie. You know sometimes I ask myself how it is possible that you fell in love with me because you are so perfect and then you say things like this and I remember how childish you can be.
- I am far from perfect, you just tend to forget how messy I am. I went to kiss her when my phone rang. I was gonna ignore it but she gave me a look, so I checked who it was.
-It’s my agent I need to take this.
I walked away while answering.
-Hola!
-Hola Y/N! I know you are on vacation but you could at least check your mails. I got offers from several big clubs for you. You need to look at what they offer right now please and even if you don’t accept right now tell me the one who is a no already.
-Okay. I hanged up.
I got inside and looked at the mail he sent me. Chelsea wanted me as third goalkeeper, that was a no. Manchester City wanted me, the position wasn’t put in which means it could be talked about, so maybe. Manchester United wanted me as well but as a second goalkeeper so it would be cool to work with her but I was a starting goalkeeper in my club and I needed to think more about this. Wolfsburg wanted me also but not as starting goalkeeper but with a really good salary so maybe, Atletico Madrid same and I already lived there so it was pretty great. Real Madrid proposed again and it was still a no. And a couple of other italian clubs and germans too but it wasn’t as starting goalkeeper so no. I didn’t want to play in the NWSL so those who proposed were a no. I replied to his email. And looked through the contracts again I heard a beep from my phone but thought nothing of it. 
At dinner time Jessie came back from her walk around and told me about a little restaurant she passed by while on her walk. We dined there, it was a traditional little restaurant away from the town center and apparently a family affair. Our waitress was the grandchild of the chef and owner, she recognized us and asked if we could take a picture. They showed us a wall with pictures of them with celebrities apparently since it was a really low key place. Some came back often and became friends of the family. The waitress was a teenager and really talkative, she told us that seeing Angelina Jolie every holiday was still weird even if she came since she was a child. It was a funny night we finished in bed reading and I fell asleep on Jessie while she was still reading. 
I woke up before Jessie and walked to the closest bakery at the corner of the street to get breakfast. They made mean croissants and it always smelled amazing when you walked by in the morning.  My agent called me again on the short walk back.
- Hola! Did I wake you up ?
-Nope, what do you need? I need to make coffee.
-Well put headphones on, I need to talk to you about the offer from the last email.
I got quietly in the bedroom, took my headphones and went back to the kitchen.
-Which offer ?
-The Barcelona one, I know it would freak you out. But I went searching for a little more info than what they gave us. Because they were a bit cryptic.
-Wait! Barcelona made me an offer ?!
-You didn’t see it ?
-No I passed the end of my afternoon looking at the other offers. I am checking right now.
The offer from Barcelona was as cryptic as he said. They were offering money for me but didn’t say which starting position other than goalkeeper of course. But it said that if I was interested they would like to have a meeting with me and my agent.
-Okay, you still there ?
-Yes, so the intel I got is that if you are interested by the end of the season or the beginning of the next you might become starting goalkeeper.
-Wow! I need to think about this but tell them I am interested. I am in Barcelona next week.
Bye!
I looked up to the sky, on the phone I tend to walk a lot so I was by the pool. I sat down on the lounge chair closest to me. I was deep in my thoughts so when a coffee mug appeared in front of me I jumped up with a squeal. Jessie looked at me surprised and laughed at me while regiving me the mug. I took it and saw that she had brought breakfast with her. 
-When does your contract with Chelsea finish ?
- In summer 2025. I resigned a few months ago.
- So in two years, you didn’t tell me.
- Babe, I love you but right now my safest bet is Chelsea and it’s a big club. I keep on improving, I would love to live with you obviously but the club who goes to the champion’s league in Spain is Barcelona and they already have really good midfielders they don’t need me. So if we want to live together you need to come but one there is your family and you have already been away a lot, then I know if you move to another team you want to go for a big team with the possibility to become the starting goalkeeper soon. Am I wrong ?
I just nodded at her, amazed by her deduction skill. I knew how intelligent she was, no one knew better than me, well maybe her parents did. She smiled and kissed me.
-I know you love me and I love you. We would never cheat on each other, we respect each other and ourselves too much for that. One day we will live together but for now distance works well enough and we are really good at it.
She finished her mug and went back inside, before entering she turned back.
-Don’t accept Chelsea offer just for me. Okay ?
-Promise.
I knew what I wanted. We spent the rest of the week chilling and spending time together and going on hikes and got lost a couple of times because of me. We said goodbye at the airport, she was going to see her family in Canada and I was going back to mine in Barcelona.
I was flying in the early morning, it was a short flight and Alexia was coming to get me. She was back from Ibiza and I was staying at Alba’s but it was too early so she was dropping me off and we would force Alba up and take breakfast together. At the arrival zone Alexia was waiting for me with a cardboard sign that said “La Guardia mi hermana”. You hugged her and it felt so good Ale gave the best hug. You began the drive to Alba’s, Alexia’s obsession with Rosalia song clearly showing, after one too many Rosalia’s songs, you liked the artist but not enough to listen to her song that much and you were a bigger fan of Shakira. You got in the apartment thanks to Alexia’s key. And you got in Alba’s bedroom, there was no one else thank god you wouldn’t have survived seeing something that weird. You jumped on her shouting. “ALBA, BABA WAKE UP!” 
-I’m up, go out, I’m up I swear! 
-You should thank me, I didn't even tickle you.
-Thank you! she said sarcasm dripping in her voice, you are so charitable.
-Move it, we have a reservation and then we are going to Mamà. Said Alexia. With that Alba was up and disappeared in the bathroom forgetting to take clothes with her. Alexia opened her closet and threw an outfit on the bed and dragged me out. 
We spent breakfast catching together and bickering with Alba teaming up each time against each other. Alexia had tan like crazy and Alba story of her night out and life of playgirl cracked me up.
When we got to the family house Mamà immediately enrolled us for housework, or gardenwork ? Clear the yard and shovel a hole to make a pebble terrace before we needed to put a tarp, so grass wouldn’t grow in between the pebble. Then we would the pebble, pebble that Mamà got when she went on walk on the beach. Halfway through the shoveling Alba went to the bathroom and never came back, when Mamà came with refreshment she told us that Alba was helping make dinner and had helped her with some computer problem. Alexia scoffed, I was too tired to do it physically but did it in my head.
After dinner we played games and Alexia and I took revenge on Alba.
-How is Jessie doing ? Asked Mamà.
-She is good, she is with her family but we spent a really good time in Corsica, it’s lovely.
I got my phone out and showed pictures to Mamà. When Alba came to check on them one where Jessie was kissing me in front of the sunset showed up I scrambled to put it away but not before Alexia had time to check because of the weird face Alba made. Mamà smiled softly and Alexia's face steeled.
-The two of you are disgusting like a cute old couple. Said Alba with a grin. Makes me want to puke.
Mamà slapped Alba’s arm.
-I don’t like her. Said Alexia.
-Alexia, get over it, you don’t dislike Jessiel. You are just too protective. You know your sister is a big girl now. Said your Mamà sternly looking at Alexia. Give the poor girl a chance you might find out you quite like her actually.
Alba and I exchanged a look while Alexia was being told off and snickered. Hearing us she turned our way and gave us a death glare. When Mamà went to the kitchen, Alexia threatened to leave us on the side of the road on the way back. Later she didn't, maybe because I was asleep like two minutes after the beginning of the drive.
The next day, Alba was seeing some of her friends and I told everyone I was too. But truthfully I was meeting with Jonathan Guiraldez and Joan Laporta. My agent picked me up after Alba left and we got over what was on the contract. At the meeting there was someone I was surprised to see, Sandra Panos. They explained to me that Sandra was having nagging pain in her shoulders and that she would little by little let her spot to me and would probably take an early retirement. But since it wasn’t public even inside the team no one knew. We left the room and said we would get back to them in a couple of minutes. I knew I wanted to play for Barcelona but my agent could negotiate better things for me with a calm head and all the information he could get. 
Back in the room, he got them to pay me more than what they offered me and they were buying my last year with Madrid FC, they were in charge of getting me an apartment and offered me a contract with Cupra. It was a really good contract and when I would get the starting spot I would be paid even more. I signed the contract and shook hands and Sandra and I talked a bit while my agent talked with Laporta. The jersey for the signing made, they took pictures of me in it and with me signing a fake paper and then  pictures shaking hands with Laporta. Those kinds of things are what I hate the most as a pro. I would need to post something about it when they would in a couple of days when they would announce the other new signings.
I took an uber to my Mamà’s to surprise her with the news, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. She hugged me tightly and was so proud of me she cried. She was so happy that Ale and I would get to play for Barcelona together, she knew it was mi Papà’s dream and after he passed away it became mine and Alexia’s. I told her not to say anything to Ale and she asked me to stay for dinner. I called Jessie before dinner and told her about my signing for Barcelona, it actually was the first thing I said when she picked up, the laugh that came through wasn’t hers.
-Jessie, your girlfriend has news for you. She is a bit excited.
I finally recognized the voice as Jessie’s sister. I asked her to put it on speaker and she informed me that the whole family was here except for their brother. I told them again and we all talked, mi Mamà joined the call a moment later and got along with Jessie’s parents and then asked Jessie to come by soon.
Two weeks before training began again, I got back to Madrid to put order into my stuff. The club had found me a place not too far from Alexia and from the facilities and actually a couple blocks away from Alba’s. I sold my car and rented a truck to move. I spent the last week hiding from Alba and Alexia and which wasn’t that difficult since I was always in my apartment organizing, well on the phone with Jessie so she organized and I executed. She asked me why I didn’t tell Alba about the move, well that was easy to answer, Alba couldn't keep a secret to save her life. Sandra saved me from turning crazy after three days of organizing and brought dinner and a very welcomed distraction.
Finally it was the first training with Barcelona, to say I was excited was an understatement and I had managed to hide it from Alexia which I was really proud about. She had that annoying ability to just know when I was lying to her, she got me to tell her I had a girlfriend like three days after Jessie and I got together.
But this time I would surprise her. I arrived at the same time as Sandra goalkeepers had a different time of arrival for I don’t know what the reason is actually. So when we arrived we had a goalkeeper meeting and then we would join the other for practice. When we got to the locker room we were actually a head of them, apparently the field player got a captain talk.
So when Alexia came in after everyone (we had to shush them so they wouldn’t reveal anything) following the new signings with the coach she didn’t even notice me at first. My number was double of hers 22 so I was quite away from her spot in the locker room. Jonathan without a care in the world just said. “Everyone most of you knows her already but another new signing Y/N Putellas our second goalkeeper.” At my name Alexia’s head snapped up, Jonathan left just like he came. And I smirked when I saw the baffled look on Alexia’s face, she pinched herself and I laughed and walked to her.
-It’s real, dumbass.
-Dios mio, cried Alexia and hugged me.
-Yeah La Reina y La Guardiana, shouted Mapi.
-La Guardia, rectified Aitana smiling.
Alexia let go of me but kept me in arm reach and looked me over. 
-The badge looks good on you, let's go, Hermana.
After the first game, it was obvious Sandra’s pain was bringing her level down. The next game I was starting, I was gonna do my tape when Alexia came up to me headphones on and grabbed my tape she taped me and got out, from I don’t know where a pen, she wrote 11 on both of my wrist and in the inside of my left hand wrote Papà and on the right La Reina y La Guardia.
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aquickstart · 3 months
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pls may i have some saltburn takes. i saw u liked my post abt oliver never having read the reading list and it made me giggle.
OH YES DUDE oh i Loved that post because it brings up actually something that for some reason i haven't seen discussed much. oliver's unreliable narration.
i have a brilliant, i think, genius four-question plan for making people understand saltburn, and it has worked before and i will maybe elaborate on it, but not right now. right now i'll talk about one of the questions.
who is oliver telling this story to, and why?
we've established that he's an unreliable narrator at least because it's the logical conclusion for a movie shot in a way that opens and closes with his narrative. but what does oliver being untruthful actually mean for what we know about anything and everything that happened. have you ever obsessed over this particular question. well. i have.
my hot take, first of all, is that oliver is not that smart. he's clever, but the point of the movie is that he's caught up in and driven by desire; desire, pointedly, in the moment, merging desire, adapting to circumstance and leading him on. his want is not concrete from the beginning. his want is insatiable hunger that grows.
so, okay, from the top. the whole meet-cute with felix? because of a punctured tire? eh. idk if that's true. the money thing at the bar, pretending to not have any while he actually did? eh, perhaps. chronologically he then lies to felix about his dad, and this is big, this is deliberate, this is what ties felix to him for good.
what if the first two instances were coincidences? like, felix genuinely in trouble then, oliver genuinely out of cash. makes sense to become attached and actually do something, something impulsive, drastic, when felix seems to be drifting away, and lie about his dad.
interjection: you might be saying, nadia, he lied about his family from the get-go. well of course. i didn't say he's not smart enough to clock what image of a damsel in distress felix would gobble up. i'm saying he didn't do it for the long game, because there was no long game to speak of, as narrator-oliver would have you believe. i think he wanted felix so badly in that moment of several months in oxford, i think he was so blinded that he would've said anything. and he did.
now, i've briefly talked about oliver's feelings about the invitation to saltburn, and i think this is very important here. in the moment, he couldn't possibly know what exactly this invitation could mean, in the long run, only that it is definitely the next step in progression of desire for felix. present-day oliver interjection, and i believed him, after felix said he could leave anytime, i read as a slip up, an admission that oliver didn't plan shit, or at least from the beginning he didn't. it lured him in as soon as he got there, gothic house driving mad-style. he held on to a dream of something elusive (felix as a friend? lover? forever-partner in whatever capacity? i want him so bad i don't care what he is as long as he's there? please? please?).
the other obvious hole to poke at is in the end. venetia very conveniently takes the razors he places for her, and while sure, it could be read as him just hinting at how he conveniently read her fragile state and took advantage of it, i don't buy it. (i'm honestly even tempted to suggest he met elspeth on accident, to then spin a pretty story for his own sake, but him keeping tabs on the surviving cattons all those years tracks with what we know about obsessive oliver; he's definitely known about her flat for a while.)
but those are all minor stuff. i get completely if you think i'm reading too much into it and this is all just a headcanon after all, to be fair. BUT. but.
my second big take is that oliver was/is madly in love with felix. i know, shocking. but you have probably seen people say he wasn't. i will elaborate.
i wasn't in love with him. i loved him. i hated him. what does this sound like. have you ever had a friend come to you after a breakup fuming and telling you how they'll never end up with this asshole for sure and then get back together with him and then break up and say the same thing again.
i loved him, but i wasn't in love with him. i know everyone thought i was, but i wasn't. have you never told anyone something of the sort, specifically the last part, to emphasize just how it's everyone around you that's kinda hung up on whatever it is, and you've moved way past it, actually. have you never told yourself that.
i have. i know many other people who have, too. so, who is oliver telling this story to, and why? there's no one but dead elspeth in front of him. there's no one but himself. fun fact: each time you recall an event, it distorts under the influence of the mix of past and present emotions. each time you recall, you mold memory (source, e.g., x). the way i personally see it, oliver, for whatever reason, retells the story in order to solidify his own memory of it in the way that he wants to remember it. whatever he says, this is his final word, and this is his final truth.
this is also why details slip through, like my beloved i believed him, like the emotional i hated him growing into self-convincing, misleadingly dismissive, definitely unsure i hated him by the end. those are the true emotions that he recalls, those are the times that are hard to rewrite, for whatever reason.
of course, he hated them all. but before that, he loved felix to the point of blindly following where felix's desire led oliver, at least the way oliver perceived felix's desire. it failed, crucially, when felix's desire brought them to the center of the labyrinth, where oliver could not be the desired anymore.
my third hot take in connection to this is that oliver did not know he would kill felix until the very night he did it. he didn't know it, i think, until the last hour, until felix refused to reconcile completely, until he made his blood run cold. i also briefly mention it here, specifically how farleigh is tragically connected to felix's death, in my opinion. this tracks with, again, my strong belief that oliver lies, lies and lies throughout this whole story about wanting to take everything from felix from the beginning; no, he fucking didn't. he wanted felix. he wanted felix to be his. that was number one priority. he wanted felix and whatever else came with it, undoubtedly, but not the other way around.
paradoxically, he also wanted to be felix; he wanted to be him and be with him just as us tumblr people can often relate and the tragedy is that you always have to choose. felix pushed him away, so there was no other choice but to take what was left of felix that oliver could take. hence the clothes wearing, the table scene talk, the refusal to leave.
felix chose not to choose oliver, so oliver became felix. it's his fault. felix promised oliver could leave. felix left instead. what was oliver to do.
but to your point about the books, i think it could be either way, actually. i think he could have lied about it because technically that's also in character for him, he was performing for an audience of his tutor. but i also think that he was, genuinely, a nerd before he came to oxford, and he didn't, and still doesn't, have any friends, and he hates his sisters and his mother and is miserable. he's the perfect profile of someone who'd read king james' bible over the summer, and then some, imma be honest.
so, yes. i think oliver lies about most things in saltburn and i think he's pathetic, lost, confused, grieving, angry, horny, down bad and in denial. and i fucking love him. i so fuckin do.
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
Text
Jungkook
𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 : Dont be scared
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Sometimes, death is a beginning and not an end.
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt & Comfort, Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of depression and depressive thoughts, heartbreak, homelessness, it's a bit heavy sorry, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, betrayal, slow burn, eventual smut, dead dove do not eat
Dead Dove do not eat: warning for potentially triggering content that can't be tagged without spoiling the story.
Length: 2.2k Words.
-> Masterlist
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"I didn't think.. it would, you know, cause something like this." Hanako says quietly, her voice all raspy from crying so much. Jungkook is standing at the end of the hallway, looking out the window. He's not said anything these past few hours since the last nurses had left your room- and Hanako herself had been consoled by her boyfriend as she'd cried to herself.
Jungkook wasn't crying. Not anymore. There was no reason to.
"They didn't tell me- You know, I told you didn't I? I didn't know-" She continues to try and justify her actions of failing to meet the deadline of your heat implant. She'd just left it there for almost an entire year, when it's supposed to be checked and changed every three months, didn't bring you to any of your medical appointments any longer, and Jungkook himself snaps as he hears the young man next to her try and tell her it wasn't her fault.
"You could've asked." He growls, not turning around- but Hanako can see his reflection in the window, rain outside in the nightsky pattering against the glass with just as much force as it takes him to hold his emotions in check it seems like. "She had regularly scheduled appointments that you did not take her to- for nine months." He continues stabbing at her, uncaring of hurting her emotionally. "If anyone is at fault here, it is indeed you." He finishes, and the young man next to her gets up to argue. "Sit down, and shut up. You don't even have the right to be here in the first place." Jungkook turns around and points at the seat, eyebrows lowered and eyes sharp as he clenches his jaw.
"Jungkook, I didn't mean for this to happen-" Hanako cries, trying to regain his sympathy in any way she can. But he doesn't budge.
"Save it." He simply says, staring at the closed hospital room with a heavy heart. "It's not like it matters anymore anyways."
~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~
"What're you doing?" Namjoon wonders, carefully peeking into the room he remembers the singer being so protective about. Today, it's brightly lit by the opened windows, curtains blowing in the slight breeze while Jungkook is busying himself folding freshly washed laundry.
Clothes that clearly aren't his- but yours.
"Moving on." Jungkook calmly states, taking in a deep breath as he continues to fold another shirt of yours, your bed clearly made, shelves dusted off, carpet vacuumed. The time capsule has been opened, revealed, and now- time has begun to tick away again, the frozen state of the entire room shattered. "Just like you told me to." He nods to himself, continuing his task.
"Jungkook.." He tries, but he knows there's nothing he can say that would help. There's still a long road ahead of the young man, no matter how much he wants to say that he's fine. Things happened, and with everything going down, it's no wonder that there will probably be some lasting effects of those things happening to him. No one should have to go through this- and unless the industry changes at least some way to protect their artist's private life or puts up boundaries for fans to stay behind, it'll happen again and again and again.
And not everyone is as strong as Jungkook. Not everyone can just accept things like this.
"Are you okay?" He asks softly, unsure how to approach his friend.
"I am." He agrees, putting everything in a neat pile, before he puts them into a black traveling bag. "Or.. I will be." He shrugs, walking back to the window, closing it.
"Are you sure that.. this is a good idea?" The bandleader asks. "Your career is at an all-time high. A hiatus right now-"
"Is just what I need." Jungkook finishes, sighing. "It's just a couple of weeks. I just.. need time. I can't just pretend like nothing happened." He explains with a somber tone, pulling the pale pink curtains shut. "The company has already painted out a convincing story as to why I'm going to be taking time off. Hyung- just.. let me have this. I need some time to think." He simply sighs out, before zipping the black travel bag close.
Like a silent request for his bandleader to leave.
And so he does- because maybe Jungkook really does need some time for just himself.
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It's raining.
The sun is shining, but it's raining.
You don't remember it raining that day, back when Jungkook still loved you. You don't remember ever going to a place like this with him- but maybe you did, and this dream is simply calling back those buried memories you've somehow forgotten. "The forecast didn't mention rain.." He mumbles with a slight pout in his voice, scrolling through his phone behind you, hand on your shoulder. The warmth of it seeps through your fluffy cardigan- he has always been warm, no matter the situation. Whether it was his body, or his smile, or the color of his eyes- all of it was always warm. And it made you feel warm, too.
You watch as the leaves of the potted plants dip in rhythm of the thick drops of rain hitting the leaves. It's like they're dancing to the faint music playing in a cafe close by. Can plants feel warm too?
"It should stop soon, though. See?" Jungkook points at the sky, his inked hand coming into view for you- and you can't help but focus more on the veins over the back of his hand, ink slightly blurred out from the time it's been there- purple heard a bit splotchy, but present. Maybe your mind can't really remember it well enough to paint it out properly. Have you ever looked at his tattoos in detail?
Maybe you should've.
"Silly cat, up there." He chuckles, taps your chin with his other hand to move your gaze towards the sky. He's right.
The thick dark clouds have broken up, sun finally able to peek through the cracks, warming your face up almost instantly. You have to close your eyes a little as to not get blinded. But you also don't want to- cause if you do, the dream will end, and you don't want that to happen. Not yet.
You want to dream a bit longer.
Taking a look around yourself, you realize that you don't remember this place. Nothing seems to recall any memories for you- and the writing on the signs close by, you can't read. Looking down at yourself, you're dressed in white. Your dress is a little wet on top of your chest from the rain, some other drops sparkling in the fluff of your cardigan. Even your shoes are white- shiny white mary janes you don't remember owning at all.
You look like a ghost.
There's a small snail in front of one of your feet. You can spot Jungkook's larger shoes behind yours- black combat boots with a thick and broad sole, making him even taller than he used to be next to you. You bend down to pick the little insect up by it's colorful swirled housing, and you notice your fingers are all red. Maybe you're cold.
But you don't feel cold?
You walk to the plants who are still dancing in the rain, placing the snail in the soil underneath the large leaves so it won't get crushed, won't get wet. It's a dream, isn't it? But even in a dream, you'd hate to accidentally hurt the little thing.
"Hey- baby you'll get wet, come here." Jungkook softly says, pulling you back underneath the small roof of the cafe you're standing in front of. The music is coming from there, inside, you notice. It's unfamiliar. Instrumental. A nice, calm tune, for a cozy feeling. Do they sell cakes and coffee in there? Can you even enjoy these things as a ghost any longer?
Maybe if you just try and remember the taste of it, it'll be the same.
"What's gotten you so deep in thought, hm?" Jungkook asks, hands wiping your cat ears dry with his sleeve, and it feels nice. You've not looked at him. In a way, you're scared of what you'll see.
You remember that all your dreams always end with him mad at you, as soon as you look at his face. You don't want that right now. This dream is too pretty as it is.
So you just shrug, unable to give an answer. What answer could a ghost give anyways?
"Your hands are all cold-" Jungkook notices, holding them in his own, and you look at them for a moment. This hand doesn't have tattoos. It's bare, but the veins underneath are still present. His nails are short and round, but his knuckles seem like he's hurt them some time ago. Like the scabs have just about fallen off, skin underneath still pink and new, standing out against his otherwise familiar complexion.
Warm, just like the palms of his hands.
You look at your own, one of your hands slipping out of his featherlight grasp, as it notices something underneath your cardigan. A bump of some sorts, and it makes you a little anxious. Your dream is shifting it seems, thunder scaring you for a moment, making you shrink in on yourself for a split second, before you pull up your sleeve despite the small scare.
Your hand is so cold, and the thick bandage feels weird. You want it off.
You pull on the edges of it, fiddling around, when his inked hand pulls your fingers away with gentle motions. "No no no angel, you gotta leave that." He tells you, other hand adjusting your sleeve again to hide your arm.
You whine in complaint. You don't want it, and it's a dream anyways. It'll turn on you no matter what you do, so you try and do it again. It makes him chuckle, of all things. He should get mad instead. This dream is so confusing- and why is he holding onto you like that anyways?
Suddenly, the cars all seem to pass by way too fast, way too loud. There's people, and you're scared to look at their faces, because what it they're monsters waiting to shake you awake? Your head whips from side to side, unsure where to look. Someone yells something in the distance, but it's in a language you don't speak, and can't remember ever hearing.
This isn't a dream anymore- it's a nightmare.
The sky won't clear up like Jungkook had told you it would. In fact, the thunder seems to roar so loud it rattles your bones, and the music behind you appears to be more so loud than soothing as it was before. There's so much going on, way more than your ears can follow, and your breath quickens as you begin to feel light-headed, nauseous.
This isn't right.
None of this is right.
Jungkook had tried to save you, no? You remember him holding you, back when you were hiding, when the world of ghosts had called you. You remember his scent, and the way he cried- is he sad now that you're gone? And if he's still alive, then who's the Jungkook that's holding onto you right now? Is he just a figment of your imagination, never to have a soul and heart like the real one did?
You're scared. You don't want jungkook to be alone.
He's always been an introvert, had told you that he doesn't mind being by himself. He loves performing, loves his idol life, but he also hates everything that comes with it. He'd once told you that it annoys him that while he has the money to do whatever he'd dreamt of as a kid, he now can't do it because he's got to make sure no one will ever see him. You remember how heartbroken he'd been for his brother Jin when his fiance had been attacked by obsessive stalkers, the poor young woman's identity revealed against her will-
And that's when everything changed, it seems like.
Maybe he'd realized how unrealistic a future with you would be if his brother and Bandmate couldn't even date a regular human woman. If he was to ever say out loud that he was in love with a hybrid of all things, his life would just shatter into pieces, wouldn't it?
Maybe that's the real reason he got rid of you. So he could keep on living his dream.
Jungkooks arms are pulling you now, somewhere dark, behind the store, and you can't see all of a sudden, as if something is blocking your eyes. It's dark, your sight gone, and you're sure you're trying to scream- But in a dream, no one hears you. Your ears are useless, ringing with the chime of a thousand bells, the blood rushing in your head drowning out anything else you could her. You want to yell, but even when alive, you'd never been able to scream either.
And as a ghost, could anyone even hear you at all?
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183 notes · View notes
agentplutonium · 3 months
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All I Want (Is You)
It was Christmas morning. Milo knew that, realistically, he probably wouldn’t win this year. However, in one more throw-away shot, Milo tried one more time. By some miracle, he was up before Sweetheart was and he was able to sneak out to the kitchen to set his trap. The mistletoe went up in the doorway. He grabbed a book and his glasses, getting into position just as he heard Sweetheart shuffling down the hall.
Milo tries to charm Sweetheart into giving him a kiss in 1275 words.
Tags: Christmas Fluff, Christmas, Mistletoe, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, I think we get the picture already /lh, it really is nothing other than a prompt fill that I found cute, it is just the two of them being dorks in love, Milo is trying to win a 'competition' that he set up six years ago, and he only won cause sweetheart took pity on him
Based on this post. On AO3, if you prefer that format as well!
("oh pluto you didn't have to write such a long fic from that-" I know I didn't. I did anyway, because I am gay and in a holly jolly mood okay. moving on. (/lh))
Milo has gotten many past partners to kiss him under the mistletoe.
It was a tradition with him. He would usually put it somewhere obvious, so that it was visible to guests, and wait. There was always at least once where his partner at the time would stand under it, knowingly or not, and Milo got to pull his favourite move. It never failed him in the holiday season.
Except for with one person. Which was Sweetheart. In six years he hasn’t been able to kiss them under that mistletoe, but this year was different. This year, he was going to kiss them by Christmas. 
And he tried. He tried so damn hard. But somehow, some way, Sweetheart saw through his bluffs or saw where the mistletoe was. They would avoid him like the plague if he was acting “suspicious” in any way. They would be lured under it by his charm just to look up at the wrong second and worm themselves away. It was a continuous game of cat and mouse, and Milo wanted to win.
It was Christmas morning. Milo knew that, realistically, he probably wouldn’t win this year. However, in one more throw-away shot, Milo tried one more time. By some miracle, he was up before Sweetheart was and he was able to sneak out to the kitchen to set his trap. The mistletoe went up in the doorway. He grabbed a book and his glasses, getting into position just as he heard Sweetheart shuffling down the hall.
Milo tried to act nonchalant, staring at the words in front of him but not taking them in. He wasn’t even sure what book he picked up, or what part of the story he randomly flipped to. It didn’t matter. It was just a prop.
Sweetheart shuffled past him, rubbing at their eyes. “You’re books upside down,” They commented, not looking at him.
Milo realized that, yes, the book was upside down. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Trying to see if there was a different meaning this way. These authors can be tricky, ya know?”
Sweetheart chuckled. “Yeah. Sure. Do you want coffee?”
Milo sighed, “Yes, please, that sounds great Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart put on the coffee pot before shuffling back over to him. They gently took the book from his hands, flipping it over. “I didn’t know you were into horror,” they commented with a wry smile, handing the book back to him.
“I find it interesting,” Milo said slowly, working the lie together as he went.
“Really? When did you get that book?”
“You know, I can’t remember exactly when. One of those things, you know? Buy it and let it sit somewhere.”
“Is that so?” Sweetheart said, trying to hide their amusement.
“Because I could have sworn that I bought that book last month.”
Milo was really fucked now, but he continued with the white lie. “Was it that? I must have forgotten. I’m reading it now, though.”
Sweetheart stifled a chuckle. “Milo, Love… when I described what was happening in that book you had a very negative reaction. Almost got physically ill. Gagged a little, even.”
Milo looked at the book in his hand, reading the title for the first time. Sweetheart was right, as usual. He particularly hated the description they gave during that one scene. He shuddered at the image it brought back—one that he suppressed after conjuring it—and sighed. “What if I wanted to give it a second chance?”
“I wouldn’t stop you, then,” Sweetheart said sincerely, “but, there’s a few things you’re failing to see here.”
They stepped closer to him, causing his heart to speed up. They always had that effect on him. Anytime they were close to him he found it hard to breathe, heart pounding in his chest. The effect they had on Milo was unmatched, and, frankly, very unfair. If he didn’t know that he had the same effect on them he’d go as far as to say it was cruel.
“First thing, you’re standing in a random doorway. You don’t like standing while reading,” Sweetheart started, tone matter of fact. Milo had to applaud the attention to detail they had, that was a small grievance he had that rarely got aired. 
“Second thing is, along with the book,” they took the book out of his hand, sliding it onto the counter, “your glasses are all kinds of messed up.” They reached up, tugging the glasses off of his face, folding the arms neatly, and placing them beside the book.
“Third thing, and I promise this is the last,” Sweetheart said, taking another step forward and splaying their hands against Milo’s sides, hands warm against his skin, pressing close. Milo had his hands on their hip without a second thought, holding them there. “I know what you’re doing,” they murmured, looking up at him, “you’re not slick, Milo Greer.”
“Who said I was trying to be?” Milo asked.
“Is this your last shot before you give up for the season?” Sweetheart teased.
“Maybe,” Milo hedged, pouting a bit.
Sweetheart laughed, hands unconsciously squeezing his side, the combination sending butterflies through his stomach. “You sure are persistent, huh?” They giggled.
“I prefer ambitious,” Milo said, “has a better ring to it.”
Sweetheart was smiling ear to ear, love written all over their face as they looked at him. Milo believed that this was the first time that he’d truly seen them stress-free in weeks. Milo felt something akin to pride swell in his chest at the thought that he was the one who got them to this point. So long as his Sweetheart was with him, he was going to do everything in his power to bring them back to a state like this every time they needed it.
“You’re cute,” Sweetheart said.
“I’m adorable,” Milo agreed. “I’m also the guy who pulled a deity like you, so that might warrant me a title a bit higher than that.”
Sweetheart looked at him for a second, head tilted a bit to the side as if contemplating something. They got a look in their eye that Milo didn’t get a proper read on before they reached up and pulled him in for a kiss. Milo let out a noise of surprise, not believing what was happening at the moment. 
He had won, then? Or had he, where Sweetheart initiated? 
He didn’t care, he decided quickly, pulling his Sweetheart closer. He couldn’t give a damn when they were pressed against them like that.
When Sweetheart pulled away they had a mischievous grin on their face. “Does winner, work?”
“So I do win?” Milo asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sweetheart shrugged, smirking. “I suppose, since, by the rules you laid out, I did fall for your evil charming ways and succumbed to my baser human instincts.”
The more that Sweetheart talked, the more Milo had to suppress his chuckles. “Your baser instincts,” Milo asked, barely keeping himself from choking on the words.
“Yes,” Sweetheart said matter of factly, “the baser instincts that hard wires people to fall for one Milo Greer at one point or another, obviously.”
“You fucking goof,” Milo said, unable to keep the laughter back. He leaned toward them again, kissing them to try and stifle it. It wasn’t wholly successful, but Milo didn’t care. “God, do I ever love you,” he whispered against their lips, earning him another smile. 
“I love you too,” Sweetheart whispered back, pushing their foreheads together. They savoured that moment with him for a moment before sighing. “Go sit down, Love. I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”
Milo kissed their forehead, letting go of them finally. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”
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apricia · 1 year
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For ever by your side / Aemond Targaryen x reader // Part I
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Author's Notes:
I never expected such a response and I'm still a bit speechless. I just wanted to write down my thoughts without any expectations. This is my very first fanfic, so don't expect too much. And forgive spelling mistakes, because English is not my first language. I'm not even sure where this story is going, I just know I have to write it. So stay tuned.
** Warning: blood, attempted murder, the word whore (although that's pretty normal in the GoT universe), sooner or later incest
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Chapter 1 - In need of a dragon 
"Do it."
Alyssa stared at the bowl on the table in front of her. A red-brown paste lay in it. She looked at the spoon, back at the paste, and gritted her teeth.
"You first," she demanded of her cousin.
She wasn't stupid. If Aegon wanted her to try this stuff, he had to go first. Alyssa didn't know exactly what the paste was, but she smelled the sweet spice and it smelled pungent. Probably too spicy for her taste.
Aegon shook his head. "Don't you dare, cousin?"
"Says the right one. Who is arguing here? Either we both do it, or we don't do it at all."
She felt Aemond shift restlessly in the chair next to her. Aegon had first tried to get his younger brother into a bet, but Aemond had backed down.
Coward, Aegon had called him. That's when Alyssa stepped in. She hated it when Aegon, Jace or Luke made fun of Aemond. Whenever she found out they said something mean, she made the boys regret their actions with her own hands.
More than ten years have passed since the day Alyssa became a princess and was adopted into the family of King Viserys.
Some things have changed for her, and Alyssa knew some things with absolute certainty.
First, she was a Targaryen. Daughter of Prince Daemon. Although she had never spoken to him, she benefited from his reputation. Many feared the prince, his vengefulness and ferocity, so few dared to disrespect the princess. Even if her father lived far away from her in a different land. With his new family.
Second, she was the daughter of a whore. Though Alyssa wasn't sure what that meant, or who her mother was, she knew the unnamed woman hadn't belonged to a noble house. She was no lady, no woman of honor. She heard the whispers in the palace corridors, the chatter of the servants, even the voices of her own family.
Third, she wasn't a dragon rider. Syrax's first throw had been unsuccessful. The eggs she and her cousin Aemond were given at birth had never hatched. She would never have a dragon, at least not if she didn't claim one that already existed. And Alyssa didn't believe that anymore.
Fourth, she was a green. Even if Alyssa couldn't understand what that meant when she was younger. She wasn't stupid. She saw the behavior of Queen Alicent and Princess Rheanyra. They were on different sides, even if the king didn't want to see it. Alyssa wasn't blind to the arguments, however. Her side was only certain: she belonged to the Greens, because Alicent Hightower had taken her in like a daughter. The Queen didn't get along very well with her own daughter Heleana, because Heleana was mostly in her own world. But Alyssa and Alicent shared a closer bond. So Alyssa's loyalty was unquestionable.
And fifth, her best friend, her companion and possibly the love of her life was Aemond Targaryen. He was only five months younger than Alyssa, but she had given him her heart the moment he was born, or he had stolen it from her. What exactly happened didn't matter. He was her better half. They shared the same interests, reading and studying together, spending almost every free moment together, and sharing the same fate due to their lack of a dragon. Aemond understood Alyssa without having to say anything. Just as she understood him. He was her best friend and nothing would ever change that.
Syt mirre ondoso aōha paktot. For ever by your side, that had been her vow and Alyssa would never forget those words. Carried her in her heart like the greatest treasure in all of Westeros.
Alyssa looked at Aemond, who was staring at her with wide eyes. He seemed nervous, but Aegon looked from her to the strange spice that had just been brought to the palace in the morning. It came from Bravos and no one knew exactly what it was.
"I'm a Targaryen, dear cousin. I fear nothing and I'm no coward, but you seem to be." She pulled the bowl towards her, took the spoon and dipped it in the spice until the spoon was full. She gave Aegon a challenging look, then took it into her mouth.
Her cousin's eyes widened and he jumped out of his chair.
"Alyssa..", Aemond said next to her and looked at her worried.
Alyssa swallowed and grinned triumphantly at Aegon. She felt the flames in her mouth, felt them running down her throat. Her whole mouth burned. Alyssa was sure if she opened her mouth she would spit fire. And probably turn Aegon to ashes with it.
But she wasn't about to admit how hot this stuff really was. She felt the tears in her eyes, but didn't let them roll down her cheeks.
Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and stood up.
"As you can see, my dear cousin. I am a true dragon, you apparently are not." She grinned at him proudly and then left the room. Footsteps were heard behind her and she knew instantly that it was Aemond following her.
"Alyssa, are you alright?"
She nodded haltingly. "I think my mouth is on fire, I need water."
Aemond looked at her confused, then burst out laughing. "I knew that stuff burned like fire."
"You were smarter than me. But I couldn't watch Aegon win again."
"Anyway, the look on his face was worth it. Come on, we'll get you some milk and bread so you can taste something again sometime."
Alyssa nodded and fanned herself to get the heat off her face. Aemond took her hand and walked her down to the kitchen. While she tried to get the sting out of her mouth with bread and milk, Aemond sat across from her.
"Shall we go to the library together later? New books arrived yesterday, about the history of Aegon the Conqueror." The joy on Aemond's face made Alyssa's heart beat faster and a warmth spread inside her. She loved seeing him so carefree and happy.
Alyssa made a face. "We'll have to put that off until tomorrow. I promised the Queen I'd spend time with Helaena today."
"You're my best friend, not my sister's."
"I'm both, yours and her friend, Aemond. Except that Helaena doesn't have any friends except me."
Aemond scowled at her. "She has her bugs."
"They hardly count as friends, Aemond. Why don't you just come with me?"
He shook his head. Although he loved his sister, and Alyssa was aware of it, he didn't like the crawling insects that Helaena loved so dearly. Alyssa didn't blame him. She often sat in the mud with Helaena and inspected worms, larvae or spiders. Listened to her cousin as she told her all the facts about the little animals. Helaena was... unique, as Alyssa always said. She was no ordinary girl and mostly kept to herself. However, the princess had accepted Alyssa by her side and that had led to Alicent asking Alyssa to spend time with her daughter so that she wouldn't be so lonely. What Alicent didn't know was that Helaena wasn't lonely at all. She was alone but not lonely. But the queen saw no difference.
Alyssa was fine with spending time with Helaena, after all she was like a sister to her. And she had learned that she did care what the princess had to say. At least when it came to scorpions, they were really exciting. However, she could safely do without worms and spiders.
"No thanks," Aemond grumbled. "Feel free to spend time with my sister. I'll accompany Aegon to the dragon pit."
Alyssa put down the milk jug and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Aemond?" They shared the same fate. They were both dragonless, but unlike her cousin, Alyssa was not obsessed with the creatures. She didn't try to attend the Dragon Keeper's lessons, join Luke, Jace or Aegon while they trained with their dragons. She went for a walk with Helaena and Dreamfyre from time to time, but nothing more. She read about dragons, but she would not get any closer to the flying creatures.
Aemond avoided her gaze. "I'll have a dragon eventually, Alyssa. And I need to be prepared for that."
She grabbed his hand. "I know that one day you will be a dragon rider, but why are you putting yourself under so much pressure?"
Aemond glared at her, but his anger wasn't directed at her. "I can no longer take the humiliations of Aegon and my nephews. They tease me."
"They wouldn't if you stopped going into the dragon pit." If he would stop giving them the opportunity for their mean jokes. But it fell on deaf ears. Aemond just didn't listen to her.
"Someday they'll regret their jokes. When I have my own dragon. And then I'll take you flying, I promise. Syt mirre ondoso aōha paktot," he said softly and grabbed Alyssa's hand again.
She squeezed and gave him a smile. "Pāsan isse ao," she whispered. She had always believed in him, even when no one else did.
"Dracarys, Varmax," Jace roared and they watched as the dragon set the goat on fire. Aemond watched his nephew with envy and disgust. He didn't understand. How come his egg wasn't hatched but Luke and Jace's were? They weren't true Targaryens. At least if he believed his brother's and mother’s words. They didn't look like they had old Valyrion's blood running in them.
They were unassuming. Brown boring hair and eyes of the same color. They didn't look like him and his siblings, or like Alyssa. Aemond knew tat Alyssa’s Mother wasn't a Targaryen either. Still, his best friend looked like him. Silver-white hair, violet eyes. They both deserved dragons. Jace and Luke didn't.
He hated the fact that his nephews owned dragons, but he didn't.
"Aemond, we have a surprise for you," came his older brother's voice and Aemond turned to Aegon.
"What is it?"
"Something very special." Luke joined them and grinned at Aemond. But there was something sly in his grin. Then he disappeared inside the pit.
"You're the only one of us without a dragon. You and Alyssa. While she doesn't seem to care that she doesn't own one, I know how much you want one, brother."
"Indeed," Aemond said, not knowing what this was all leading to.
"And we felt badly about it," Aegon continued. "Precisely because without a dragon you won't have a chance to marry her."
"What are you talking about?"
"Alyssa, of course," Aegon laughed. "She's a Targaryen, well, halfway. She looks like one, at least, and as a princess, she'll only marry a true dragon rider. You understand that, don't you?"
Aemond narrowed his eyes at his brother, but felt himself tighten. He wasn't a dragon rider, neither was Alyssa. But she was his! They were bound together by an oath. He had never thought that one day Alyssa would get married, but it made sense that she would. But if she had to marry someone, it would be him!  They belonged together. Not that Aemond had already thought of marrying her. It was much more that he always saw Alyssa by his side, no matter how he imagined his life to be. She was always a part of it.
And now he shouldn't be allowed to have her just because he didn't own a dragon? Could the gods really be that cruel to him? First they refused him a dragon and now they want to take Alyssa from him... Aemond wouldn't allow that!
"So we found one for you," his older brother continued. "We wouldn't want you to loose Alyssa, would we, brother?" Aegon put a hand on his back and led him towards the tunnels that led down into the pit. There was a rumble and the earth shook beneath their feet.
"A Dragon? How?"
"The gods provide," was his brother's only explanation.
Out of the tunnel came Luke, a pig at his side. Aemond looked at the animal with hate-filled eyes. Wings were attached to its back and the pig trailed an improvised tail. Aemond clenched his fists.
"Behold - the pink dread!" said his brother and nephews in unison and then burst out laughing. Each laugh pierced Aemond's heart like a knife.
"Be sure to mount her carfully. First flight's always rough," laughed his brother. "Perhaps with her help you will be able to make Alyssa yours."
Aegon grunted in Aemond's ear and his nephews did the same before leaving Aemond alone. Humiliated and angry.
His father wouldn't let Alyssa marry anyone else, would he? His mother knew how important Alyssa was to him and she herself had taken the princess to her heart. They wouldn't let Alyssa be taken from you, would they?
But if only a dragon rider was allowed to marry Alyssa, then Aemond would become a dragon rider. He stared into the darkness of the tunnel and clenched his jaws. He would have a dragon! For Alyssa!
Meanwhile, Alyssa sat alone with her cousin in their chambers. Also coming by ship from Bravos were two scorpions, which Helaena proudly presented to Alyssa.
"Like spiders, scorpions also have eight legs. They also have two tentacles with claws, like a crab," Helaena said, holding the little creature in front of Alyssa's nose.
"With the claws and the poisonous sting, the animals defend themselves in case of danger or kill their prey."
Alyssa looked from the scorpions to her cousin. "How can you be sure that he won't stab you with it and you die? I imagine death by poisoning to be extremely painful." She had respect for the little creature and avoided getting too close to the stinger, let alone picking up the scorpion like Helaena did.
However, Helaena looked at him with a tenderness on her face that Alyssa found incomprehensible. She looked at Aemond like that, maybe sometimes at Alicent, but not an animal that could kill her in seconds.
"He won't harm me."
"If you say that."
Alyssa was about to ask a question when the door opened without knocking. Into the room came a man in a black robe that Alyssa didn't recognize. He didn't look like the king's guard who had been at the door when they'd arrived.
"Who are you?" Alyssa wanted to know and looked at the man curiously.
The man approached her and pulled a knife from his belt. Alyssa's eyes widened in horror and next to her, Helaena, who seemed to be in her right mind, began to scream.
"Death to the Targaryens," the man hissed, lunging at the girls. Alyssa pushed Helaena aside and started calling for help as well. Someone had to hear her and come and rescue them both.
She was just a girl, just eleven years old. What could she do against a grown man who was armed? Nothing at all. But Alyssa refused to die today. She wouldn't let this man hurt Helaena.
She heard shouts and hasty footsteps, and Alyssa knew they wouldn't have to last long before help would arrive. So she fought. She snatched the scorpion from Helaena's hand and threw it at her attacker. He screamed, but threw the venomous beast away before the deadly sting could hit him.
Then the blade came into Alyssa's field of vision. She didn't think about it any further, but threw up her arms.
Her hands gripped the weapon and she felt the pain a split second later as the blade dug into her flesh. She gripped the knife with both hands and pushed the man away as best she could.
"Princesses," came the familiar voice of Ser Harrold Westerling.
Alyssa screamed as the man was pulled away from her and the knife fell to the ground. Her knees buckled under her and she sank onto the cool marble floor beneath her. She was shaking, trembling all over and barely aware of what was happening around her. She heard Helaena screaming and crying through a veil. She heard more guards storm the room, someone calling for the king and queen. And then she saw two pairs of boots come into view.
Ser Harrold knelt beside her. "Let me see, Princess."
Alyssa stared at him through a veil of tears. It hurt, it really hurt. Her palms were soaked in blood. Two deep cuts adorned her skin and the blood continued to flow incessantly. She whimpered as the commander pulled her into his arms. "You were very brave, princess, like a true Targaryen. A maester will look into this, but I'm sure it's only a flesh wound."
Alyssa nodded haltingly. The adrenaline had left her body, she felt the exhaustion, felt the fear and began to sob.
"Everything will be fine, Princess, I promise you."
Some time later, Alyssa was sitting in the Queen's chamber with Helaena. Alicent was beside them with anger. The man who attacked the girls was in the dungeon and was being questioned. The queen had calmed her daughter while Maester Orwyle examined Alyssa's wounds and sewed them up. Alyssa hated every second of it. She watched as the thread and needle pushed through her skin, over and over again. At first she had flinched at every bite, but now she sat motionless.
"It'll heal, won't it?" Alicent asked while rubbing Helaena's back soothingly.
"It will. The scars will remain, but will fade over time. However, the princess will not be able to use her hands for the next few days. She will need help."
"Thank you Maester."
Alyssa hated being dependent on help from others. But she watched silently as the maester bound her hands so that she could not even move her fingers. As if instead of two hands she only had two lumps, as if she were a cripple.
Alicent knelt in front of Alyssa and smiled at her. "Thank you, Alyssa. You protected Helaena and made your family proud. I am so glad und thankful that you are alright."
Alyssa nodded. She would always protect her family, no matter the cost.
A knock sounded and a guard entered the room.
"Your Grace," the guard said, dragging Aemond with him.
Alicent, Alyssa and Helaena whirled on the two at the same time.
"Aemond," said the Queen, leaving Alyssa's side. She herself looked at her friend with wide eyes and wanted to get up from the chair she was sitting on, but the maester prevented her.
"What have you done?" the queen wanted to know angrily. The princesses had been attacked and now she had to take care of the prince, who broke the rules again.
"He did it again," Helaena murmured and looked at her brother blankly.
"After how many times you've been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers? After everything that happened today, I don't want to have to deal with such nonsense anymore!" The anger was clearly audible in the queen's voice.
Aemond wasn't looking at his mother, his eyes were fixed on the floor. However, Alyssa knew him too well. He had been humiliated and he was ashamed. What had Aegon, Luke and Jace done this time? Alyssa wanted to clench her fists, but couldn't. Her hands were so bandaged that she could barely use them.
"They made me do it," Aemond yelled, jerking his head up.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding."
Alyssa narrowed her eyes. She didn't know how many more times Alicent wanted to have this discussion with Aemond. Her son wouldn't listen to her. If he didn't listen to Alyssa, he didn't listen to anyone.
"They gave me a pig," Aemond then roared, and a hiss escaped Alyssa.
It was only then that he noticed that she was there too. He looked at her, blush gracing his cheeks, his eyes full of tears, tears of anger. Aemond looked away from Alyssa. He didn't know why she was in his mother's chambers, but his own feelings controlled him so that he couldn't think about it.
"A what?" Alicent asked blankly.
"They say they found a dragon for me. So I can claim.." Aemond fell silent, but his gaze slid to Alyssa, who looked at him in horror.
What had he wanted to claim? The dragon? His rightful place in this family? She didn't know what he was talking about, but she understand his anger.
Alicent also followed her son's gaze, but she knew immediately what Aemond was getting at and what it all had to do with Alyssa. She knew her youngest son's feelings for his cousin. She even supported them.
Ignoring the Maester's protesting words, Alyssa got up and started to leave the room.
"Princess", the maester called afterwards. "Where do you want to go? Your hands.."
"I'll find Aegon, Luke and Jace and give them the treatment they deserve." She was filled with anger. She hated it when someone treated Aemond badly. No one was allowed to treat him like that, not even his brother or nephews.
Alicent stopped Alyssa and pulled her back. "You will do no such thing. You must rest, Alyssa. You and your hands need rest."
Alyssa just snorted and tucked her bandaged hands behind her back when she felt the blank look from Aemond on her, who didn't seem to know what had happened in the princess' chambers a few moments ago. Alyssa didn't want to show him her injuries, didn't want him to worry about her. As she worried about him.
When the queen was satisfied that Alyssa would not leave the room, she turned back to her son and placed both hands on his shoulders.
"You will have a dragon one day," she tried to encourage Aemond and calm him down.
"He'll have to close an eye," Helaena said quietly and Alyssa frowned at her cousins words. Sometimes Helaena said strange things. And sometimes these strange things came true.
"I know it," the Queen continued.
"They all laughed," Aemond said quietly, staring at the floor.
Alyssa would love to run to him and hug him, but she knew he didn't want that at the moment. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want to show weakness in front of her, so she stayed where she was. But her anger towards Aegon, Luke and Jace only increased. If she could use her hands, she would beat up the three boys herself.
Alicent pulled Aemond into her arms and held him tight. Over the queen's shoulder, Alyssa and Aemond exchanged a look. She gave him a hesitant smile and nodded, as if she too was sure that one day he would have a dragon. Aemond tried to return the smile, but his eyes drifted to her hands and he frowned in confusion. He looked questioningly at Alyssa.
She just shook her head and hid her hands behind her back. Everything was fine, she was fine. Heleana was fine. And the man who did this to her was already behind bars.
Alyssa was safe. Although she could still see and feel the man and his blade as soon as she closed her eyes. 
_________
Tagg-List:
@girl-with-an-orange-cat​ @itsjustmyopinionf1​ @xcharlottemikaelsonx​ @immyowndefender​ @kohsongbird​ @curiouser-an-curiouser​
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doctorho · 5 months
Text
Holy Darkness, pt. 1
hello! my peeps! what's up!!!
it's here! the vampire au! i have no idea how long i'm gonna make this thing, we'll see where the Vibes take us.
this is going to be vampire!Viktor x gender neutral reader multichapter fic
2,3k words, no warnings. i mean, general spooky vibes, but we all know he isn't actually evil okay. i mean the reader doesn't know that. yet. but we know that. right?
(some backstory for this fic idea here and here)
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I mean. It���s not like you meant to trespass on the property of the nocturnal hermit living in a rundown abandoned library.
Or maybe you did. A little bit. But that’s not the point. 
The point is that you’re there now, in the quiet darkness, surrounded by the scent of wet leaves and heavy silence; the kind that drips down the back of your neck and tingles as it curls around your spine. 
It had been a perfectly ordinary night, so far. You’d closed up the small bookshop you worked at, quietly getting everything ready for the next day, swept the floors, just like you always did. You’d eaten dinner alone in your small quiet apartment, just like you always did. You’d put out some food for the too-thin stray cat that hung around your street, and wished, bone-deep, that something in your small quiet life would change.
Just like you always did.
It wasn’t bad, your life. It was actually pretty good, considering. But it was boring. Stagnant. And you just…wanted something more. The town was small and quiet and nothing much ever happened – the most exciting event of your week was usually the gossip you overheard at the weekly book club meetings, which didn’t exactly make you feel better about your own life. A good percentage of the elderly ladies in the book club (or their neighbors) seemed to lead more exciting lives than you did. 
You shouldn’t compare yourself to others, you knew that. But your life was boring, and you spent your days surrounded by books; epic adventures, romances that made your heart melt, countless stories where someone gets thrown into a land straight out of your imagination, fantasies where there’s a whole other world just a breath away from this one– 
It made your own life seem even more boring in comparison. 
And it didn’t exactly help that the only thing this town had going for itself – besides the book club – was that there was an abandoned library that was, allegedly, inhabited by a hermit, who – allegedly – might have been a vampire. 
You weren’t sure how much of that story was true. Yes, there was the abandoned library, condemned to be closed down years ago after some unfortunate water damage and lack of funding to rebuild it. Yes, there seemed to be someone living in there. Sometimes you saw lights on in the windows, things that had moved around as if on their own. Someone seemed to be taking care of the property, too, at least to some extent. 
Yes, no-one ever really saw this person out during daylight hours. 
All anyone knew was that 1) there seemed to be someone living there, 2) the collective guess was that it was a man, probably pretty young, and definitely a loner.
And at some point the collective understanding had also accepted that this man was, allegedly, a vampire.
You weren’t sure you believed that last part. Vampires were, technically, not recognized by science. You’d never met one, that you knew of. But…they were a stable factor in local folklore, and all those stories had to come from somewhere. Right?
And…the longer you stood there, watching the dark building and the dim golden light pouring out from the windows, the more you started to entertain the thought that maybe vampires existed, and maybe this man was one of them. 
He seemed to lead an unusual life, and yeah, maybe he was just a hermit, but…for some reason you couldn’t quite convince yourself of that. No-one just appears out of nowhere and sets up camp in an abandoned building, never to be seen in daylight again.
You’d seen his shadow in the window a few times, passing by. You couldn’t see much of his features, but he was lean, like people had said. You stayed hidden the best you could – this was the first time you’d gotten this close – and just…tried to win this internal fight with yourself about whether you should turn around and go home right now or just get a little bit closer. Just stay a little bit longer. 
(You weren’t sure which side of your brain you were hoping would win).
You knew it was stupid, being there. 
You didn’t know how dangerous this man was, vampire or not. For all you knew he could have been 100% human and still been a murderer or something. 
But you were curious. 
That’s all it boiled down to. 
You didn’t want anything from this man. You just wanted to know. Who he was, what he was doing in there–
and if vampires really existed. 
Maybe you should be blaming all those fantasy books in your shop, but – dammit – you wanted to know if something more than this boring human existence really was out there. It was like an itching in your bones; you wanted to know. Your soul refused to settle, and it got more and more restless the longer you went on with your normal little life.
Besides, the man lived in a library. You had no idea how many books were in there that no-one in this town even remembered anymore. 
You wanted to know. 
That’s what makes you stay. Even when half your brain and most of your blood was constantly telling you that you should go, leave, now. 
You don’t really even have a plan. It’s not like you’re going to just knock and go up to him and say hey, I was wondering, what’s your deal? 
Yeah. You weren’t going to do that. 
What you were planning on doing was just…sort of circling that idea, the possibility of maybe running into him. Walking just on the edge of the property, telling yourself it’s not on purpose. Stopping to see if there’s a light in the windows tonight. That’s it.
It’s not like you were planning on actually going to talk to him. 
So when he’s suddenly standing in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Or do.
He is standing there, all sharp-edged in the shadows, dark and tall and silent, and looking at you with the most intense eyes you’ve ever seen. 
There’s a moment, when you’re just staring at him, where you feel like your heart beats a hollow beat and everything in the night is silent. The shadows seem to twirl around him, though that was probably just your imagination. Probably.
“Is there a reason you’re lingering in the shadows out here?” He asks, his voice a quiet, captivating drawl. 
He seems calm, the kind of stationary bottom-of-the-sea calm that you’d only seen in very intelligent animals before. 
(You try to quiet the part of your brain that tries to substitute ‘animals’ with ‘predators’, and you try your best to keep your breathing even. It takes more effort than it should).
His eyes were golden, deep golden, and that definitely wasn’t usual for…humans. 
And there was something about his features that made you instantly accept that if vampires existed, and this man was one, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. 
“No,” you answer, and the word is so light that it feels like a lie as soon as it leaves your lips.
You’re not sure what kind of vampiric powers this man might have, but you’re suddenly worried that he might be able to hear your heartbeat, which was definitely way faster than it should have been. 
“Hm.” He says, still looking at you, as if he was studying you.
You both pretend that he isn’t the reason you’re there. Or, you pretend he isn’t, and he pretends he doesn’t know that. 
You take a deep breath.
“What are the chances you would just go back inside and forget I was ever here?” You ask, trying to sound like you weren’t worried about what the alternative to that might be.
“Very low,” he answers, straight-forward, and then he tilts his head slightly and his eyes trail over you. 
He was still studying you.
“I don’t get many…visitors.” He says, and then he smiles. It’s a small, knowing, stupidly attractive smile, and, god, yeah, the man definitely has small fangs. Christ. Was it like a feature that vampires were attractive to like, lure you in? Was that a thing they did? 
He couldn't read your thoughts, could he?
“So it is not likely that I’ll forget you were ever here, no.” He continues, “but if you want me to, I will go back inside.” He meets your eyes, “if you tell me why you’re really here.”
You swallow. 
Fine, that was reasonable. You were on his property. 
Well. Technically it was still probably the town’s property. But still. In essence it was his now. 
You take a deep breath and try to silence the annoyingly rattling part of your monkey-brain that was still tugging at you to run away, be smart, please-  
The longer you dissect this situation in your brain though, the clearer it becomes. 
Yes, you were currently in a dark secluded space with a stranger. Who might be a vampire.
But…he hadn’t actually done anything to scare you, had he?
He hadn’t threatened you. 
He seemed quite reasonable, actually. 
And if he wanted to hurt you, he could have done that already. Many times over.
But instead, he was out here. Making civil conversation.
Did you really even want him to go back inside?
Wasn’t this why you were here? To find out more about him? 
You swallow, lick your lips, and then meet his eyes. Take a breath. 
“I was curious.”
“About?” He counters, watching you, tilting his head, as if he didn’t already know. 
You furrow your eyes a little bit. Just look at him for a few seconds. He just waits for you to answer, patiently. 
“You.” You finally answer. Hold his gaze.
“Ah.” He says, then nods slowly and smiles again, faintly. “Me.” 
Then, he looks at you again, now with something more purposeful in his eyes. More…interested. “Why?”
You blink. Go through a quick mental check of what your choices were here; you could lie – and say what?
Or you could tell the truth, and see where it took you. 
And – honestly? You were still curious. 
So you shrug with one shoulder, trying your best to seem casual about it. Pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding. 
“I was curious,” You answer, “about the mysterious stranger living in the abandoned library.”
He looks at you. Studies you. Nods slowly. 
"Hm." he says again. "Well, here I am." 
You take a deep breath. 
He shifts his weight. 
"What would you like to know?" He asks, remarkably casually. Like an offering. Or, possibly, a bait.
You take it, whichever one it was.
One way to find out.
"Who are you?" 
You start with the obvious, though you're not really sure what kind of an answer you're hoping for. 
"My name is Viktor." He says, simply, still with the ghost of a smile on his face. 
Nice. A name. Progress. 
Viktor.
That still didn't tell you much about what he was really doing here, but it was a start. 
You offer your own name in return, hoping not to seem rude. Not that he'd do much with your name; it wasn't very likely that you two would become pen pals or something. 
"And you've just…been living in our rundown library?" 
"Yes," he answers, shifting his weight a bit again, and again, looking at you like he was inspecting you. Waiting for something.
"Why?" 
He tilts his head a little. "That is," he says, "not a one-word answer." 
"Most answers aren't." You answer, before you can really think it through. This whole situation was absurd; were you really out here just… having a casual conversation with this cryptid of a man? 
He makes a sound that is… close to a chuckle. More of an exhale, but still. You can hear it loud and clear in the quiet darkness, and that makes it feel like he’s much closer to you than he actually is. Like the small sound fills the air around you.
"That is true." He says after a moment. Then, he takes a breath. Visibly. 
So he wasn't at least entirely undead then. 
"How about we make a deal." he offers, "I'll tell you," he meets your eyes again and smiles a little, "for a price."
"And what might that be?" You ask in return, entertaining the idea, and trying your best to seem casual about it.
His smile widens. "One of those strawberry pies from the bakery, and your favorite book."
You blink. How he knew about the strawberry pies, you weren't sure, but you weren't about to question that now. The answer could have been a lot worse, so you'll take strawberry pie, sure. 
"Do I need to point out that you literally live in a library?" 
He shifts his weight again, leaning more heavily on his cane. "A library that hasn't gotten any new books in years."
You look at him. Really look at him. 
So this alleged-vampire, nocturnal cryptid hermit of a man, had just offered to tell you his life story, in exchange for a pie and a book? 
Yeah, if you were honest with yourself, you were never going to not take that deal. 
"Okay," you tell him, "my place or yours?" 
His lips quirk up a little. "Mine," he answers, "I think that's probably best." Then, he nods slowly and meets your eyes. "It's quiet and peaceful in there."
He smiles, just enough for you to get a glimpse of his teeth again, and it's the most sharp-edged-beautiful thing you've seen in a while.
Something curls around your spine in the darkness, and you're still not sure if it was a bait or an offering that you took.
You're not sure you care.
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youcouldmakealife · 7 months
Text
SOTM: Willy/Owen; shared interests
For the prompt: Willy/Owen
Feat. the spectre of ScratchnMoney being trouble tweedles.
When Tate was a kid, he had a brief obsession with science experiments. The usual suspects, the sort that come in kits for curious kids — anything that would change colors, or ominously bubble, he was officially intrigued, and if a volcano was involved, Tate was there no questions asked.
They were all simple chemistry, really, but it was fascinating to him, that he could follow the directions and something like magic would happen. It wasn’t magic, of course, but science; he knew that. It was, in fact, the entire point. But still, it felt like it. Even when he knew exactly why it was happening, exactly what he was doing to make it happen, understood the scientific basis of things, at least as much as a curious but not particularly scientific kid could, it still felt a little impossible.
He told that story to Owen, years ago, one of those nights on the precipice, and Owen had smiled through it all, a little one that said he understood, maybe better than anyone, and Tate felt like if he leaned in right then, that would have been it. Turned it into a capital M Moment, the kind they’d be retelling for years, ‘and that was it for me, right then, that’s when I knew we were meant to be together, the night he told me about magic and science, or a little of both’.
So Tate had asked if Owen wanted another drink, and even though Owen said ‘I’m good, Tate’, voice low, everything still imbued with double meaning, Tate got up, and he went to the bar, and by the time he returned, a drink in hand, the moment was over, the window closed. Owen excused himself not long after, citing a class the next day, even though Tate knew tomorrow was his evening one, and Tate went home and took a freezing cold shower, feeling like he needed to punish himself somehow.
It didn’t even work. Tate’s spent far too much time in ice baths for a cold shower to feel like anything but training. And training cannot be punishment. The moment training starts to feel like punishment, that’s when it’s all over for him. And one day it will be, he knows that. He still dreads the day that comes, but a little less than he used to.
Part of that’s three Cup rings, nestled in velvet and glass, a career for the record books even if he hung up his skates tomorrow. Part of that has a lot more to do with a kid working his way through science experiments, less interested in the explanations than the doing, the seeing something new, doing something new. Of being the instigating force. Wanting to see what happens.
*
When Owen was a kid, he spent most of his free time in his backyard. He watched the ants go about their business, the worms appear whenever it rained, the birds fight over the feeder him and his dad had set up, the squirrels scavenging the remains. He had a pair of binoculars he brought with him everywhere, watched the world through those, far away enough not to interfere, but close enough for a front row seat.
He liked the science kits too, the kind Tate loved. They were a default gift for him from family members that knew he was a nerdy kid, but little else. They weren’t particularly targeted about it, Owen recalls. He had the volcano, the kitchen chemistry, but he also recalls rock kits, simple robotics, fake fossils to excavate. An ant farm, though he never used it, thought it was cruel to put them in his room when they could be free outside, and anyway, his mother would never have allowed it, as squeamish about bugs as she is. She probably thanks God every day he didn’t become an entomologist.
But generally, Owen was told to go outside, get some fresh air, act like a normal kid. Which probably didn’t mean ‘go stare at ants in the backyard with binoculars’, but they didn’t really care too much, as long as he wasn’t underfoot, being just a little too unlike either of them.
That was the look they shared sometimes, Owen thinks — ‘did this come from you? Well it didn’t come from me’. Not fault, exactly, blaming one another for this child of theirs that made no sense, but bafflement, incomprehension. It made it easier to come out a decade later, already knowing his parents didn’t understand him at all. Not easy, but easier. Came out and then ran off to the furthest school that offered him a full-ride. They could afford it, his parents, had been saving up for college since he was born, but he didn’t want to owe anyone anything. Why should they have to pay for something they didn’t, couldn’t, didn’t want to understand?
He came back eventually, of course. He wasn’t planning to, and then he was planning to leave as soon he finished his Masters. And he did leave, for a little while, but he missed it too much to stay away. Things work out like that, he finds. Some have said you can only love what you understand. Owen doesn’t think that. He thinks trying to understand is an act of love, though. The greatest one there is, at least in his view.
*
It’s Money’s fault, as so many things are. His sister gets him worrying about what he’s going to do to pass the time in retirement, and that begins a frantic search for a hobby that isn't hockey or his literal other half. It doesn’t go so well. His efforts range from gardening — he kills it, and Tate doesn’t mean it slangily — to tipsy painting with Scratch and Owen that Tate was not allowed to join. Apparently he’s ‘too good at it’ and ‘needs to quit being awesome at everything because it is both obnoxious and enraging’, which Tate takes as a compliment. A rude as hell compliment: Money’s specialty.
All of this inevitably gets Tate thinking about retirement. He isn’t particularly worried about passing the time; he knows that his retirement is going to come with a job offer, one that he’ll probably take, if not necessarily immediately — Owen’s always wanted to go to South America, and Tate’s looking forward to going with him — but it also gets him looking back, thinking about what else interested him before hockey became his entire life.
Money keeps picking up all the stereotypical childhood hobbies in his quest, cycling from doodling to Lego, to declaring war on Lego, to making horrible beaded bracelets then foisting them on poor teammates, and Tate ends up idly looking at science kits, because he figures it's just a matter of time before Money gets there.
There are a few that haven’t changed much — kids are always going to like making volcanoes, and who could blame them? — but they’ve evolved significantly since he was a kid; for starters, they have kits for adults now.
Tate knows better than to pick anything that even approaches Owen’s field of expertise, which limits his options considerably, until he wanders into the technology branch of STEM. The robotics kits have certainly progressed in the last two decades. You can apparently even build a robot bartender. Tate didn’t know he needed that in his life, but he does. He absolutely does.
The box arrives in Kansas City while Tate’s in Dallas, Owen sending a string of question marks, then a smiley when Tate texts, Don’t start it without me. It’s a few days after his return they unbox it in his basement; it’s massive, but so’s Tate’s downstairs bar, and obviously that’s the best place to build a bartender.
“It’s not exactly like the ones we did as kids,” Tate says. “But I didn’t know if any of the chemistry ones would be too much like work.”
“Is playing street hockey with the kids on your block too much like work?” Owen says.
“Touche,” Tate says. “Also, ouch. They said this one’s for grownups, so no inviting Scratch and Money.”
Owen laughs. Tate loves his laugh, how easily it comes, how Tate’s misfit band of oversized children is something that delights Owen, rather than something he endures.
“You can build a bunch of different models,” Tate says. “Bartender, camera dolly, catapult — I mean it, do not invite Scratch and Money. They’re not allowed anywhere near a catapult.”
That laugh again. “You just got it so I’d build you a robot bartender, didn’t you?”
“Come on, a robot bartender is awesome!” Tate says, and Owen’s smiling at him the way he smiles at Money sometimes, as fond as it is amused. “And I’m going to help, obviously.”
He doesn’t know how much he’s going to help, but he’ll do his best. He never allows himself to do anything less.
“Let’s build a bartender,” Owen says.
Tate’s fist pump is quite restrained, at least in comparison to the guys he works with on a daily basis, but it makes Owen laugh at him anyway. But as always, there's warmth behind it, so as always Tate doesn’t mind.
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theflyindutchwoman · 5 months
Note
There is an opinion that Chenford appeared under the influence of the audience. If I remember correctly, the showrunner once said that Lucy and Tim would not be a couple, that Chanford's popularity came as a surprise to them.
It seems to me, if not Plan A, then Chanford was plan B. The creators in the first series placed a morally broken man (a drug addict wife was prescribed to the character right away, perhaps a tyrant father too) and an empathic woman (her character was also prescribed one way or another initially) in a confined space (a police car). I don't know…
What do you think about this?
Full discloser : while I started watching the show around the time Day of Death aired, I wasn't particularly paying attention to the behind the scenes and interviews at the time. So this is probably going to influence my answer in one way or another.
You remember correctly though : Chenford was not originally planned. Here's what Alexi Hawley (showrunner) said on the subject - and I think this touches on the second part of your ask : "Tim was always designed to be a character who was much more complicated than he seemed, and Lucy was always designed to be a really strong, empathetic character, but I think [what we’ve seen] is the magic of chemistry that happens that you just can’t know when you’re writing a pilot." (source)
What really started Chenford was Eric and Melissa's chemistry… Backed by the writing and the actors' understanding of their characters. To me, it was clear that Tim and Lucy were always meant to share a special relationship for the points you covered, romance or not - which, by the way, doesn't lessen the beauty of their story in my eyes. They were always going to be the most important person in each other's lives. Bring the best in each other. Their dynamic was developed with so much love and care, with so many beautiful and emotional scenes and this, from the very beginning… Alexi himself wrote some of their key moments : their meeting, the quarantine house, Tim turning down his promotion for Lucy… to name just a few of the very early ones. But the romantic undertones? That was mostly the actors' doing, probably not even intentionally at first. And that combination, that magic, is what caught the eyes of so many, I believe.
The other thing Alexi said at the time (s3), was that Chenford would never happen, since Lucy was Tim's rookie : "Tim would never cross that line. She’s his rookie and he would never even consider crossing that line. So while I’m obviously aware that there’s a big ‘shipping there, and I appreciate any kind of passion about the show, that’s a huge line [to cross]. […] We’d be hypocrites [to write a Lucy/Tim romance] because we made it very clear in those first four or five episodes that female officers unfairly get tagged if they sleep with cops, and it’s why Nolan and Lucy couldn’t be together — and ultimately I think that was the right move. I mean, he was on the rebound from a 20-year marriage and she was 20 years his junior, and so it worked out the way it was supposed to, but if we turned around and threw [Lucy and Tim] together, that would be somewhat hypocritical.”
Now I remember reading many times that Lucy x Nolan was supposed to be endgame, but I never found any official interview : by the time I started the show, that idea was entirely buried so that may be why… But if it was the original plan, I applaud Alexi for adapting so swiftly without insulting the audience for forcing his hand. Some showrunners should take notes.
In any case, this is where this idea that he was opposed to Chenford started - at least, to my knowledge, there were probably other interviews. But in this one, this isn't exactly what he's saying. The context is very important, and unfortunately, was often forgotten in the various articles that derived over the years from his original interview. Lucy was still Tim's rookie and this is the line he is talking about. For reference, even Eric, who was already the captain of the ship, agreed with this (back in the beginning of s2) : "It’s something that Bradford would never organically do, being a superior to her." (source) (in all fairness, it does say later in the same interview that he doesn't rule it out either). And honestly… I agree with them. I enjoy reading fanfics that explore this alternative, but in the show, I'm really glad that they waited. Power dynamics are a real thing, so I appreciate that it was not just swept under the rug. And the writers unwittingly backed themselves in a corner with the reason used to break up Lucy and Nolan. They needed to explore Tim and Lucy's dynamic further first, unravel everything and wait for her to graduate. To get her to a place where she no longer cares what others might think.
But I don't believe Alexi was completely against Chenford at all : again, he wrote so many romantic moments… Case in point : the interview is from s3 and yet, he was behind that 'Save me a dance' scene… So clearly, he already had a vision for them, no matter what he was saying on the record. I personally always take these interviews with a grain of salt because the writers/actors are basically told by the different publicists/PR the main points they should address.
Now the audience probably influenced his decision, yes… The way the network made sure to bait the fans made it clear that, at the very least, they knew where to focus in the marketing department. But I don't think that was the only factor. So many shows have very strong fandom, and yet they never go further than baiting. That's actually the usual MO : bait but don't commit, since so many networks are still afraid of that infamous 'Moonlighting' curse (even though it is getting better nowadays). Abc is no exception.
At the end of the day, regardless of what was said in interviews, the showrunner and the writers still created these wonderful characters and developed this relationship in a loving manner… That's the thing that matters to me. So even if it wasn't his idea, even if he was completely against it, he at least listened to his team, to the actors, letting them improvise and even rewrite some parts. And that's actually how it should be done even if, unfortunately, this is far from the norm. I may not agree with every decisions he has made, but in that regard, I respect him for doing much better than many of his counterparts. However, I realise that this is also easy for me to say this since I'm sure I missed a lot of dramas in-between… That might have changed my perception. I hope this answers your question :)
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Text
Into the Fire
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel isn’t the only one who loses a brother to the Fireflies in Boston. In the wake of your rage, Joel Miller is the only one who can understand you and that changes everything.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, some good old fashioned angst, hints of smut, It’s not explicit but minors DNI/18+. I have not included any age references or physical descriptions of the reader to try and keep this is as inclusive as possible however it is a female reader. There is also no explicit cheating, but there’s an ambiguity that could be interpreted either way.
Word count: 1.7k
Notes - This is not only my first ever Joel Miller fic but it’s the first time I’ve been able to write in over a year. I’m very nervous about posting this, but I hope you enjoy it.
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“Takes one to know one, so take it from me/ You've been lonely/ You've been lonely too long” Dust to Dust – The Civil Wars
The world pretty much ended years ago, but you survived. You tried to forge your way through it all, endure everything just to find a way to stay alive and stay you. It’s been years but once again your axis has twisted, and you don’t know what to do.
The last fifteen minutes are replaying over and over again, ever more embarrassing and you’re not entirely sure how you’ve ended up at this apartment, but you have.
Joel Miller is staring at you with an unreadable expression, one arm leaning against the door you’ve been knocking repeatedly.
“We have to stop them,” you say as he moves to let you in the apartment.
“We?” he asks, his tone somewhere between amused and furious, as he walks into his kitchen.
“Yes, we. I spoke to my brother and he’s useless so it’s down to us. They’ve lost it, Joel. Leaving the QZ? The Fireflies?”
“Probably,” Joel says.
You knew your circle of friends wouldn’t fight your little brother on this, but Joel? You were certain he’d help you. Especially after seeing his face when your respective brothers made their announcement.
Joel, however, he was a different story. You had known Joel vaguely for some time. Your family and his group had made it to the QZ at the same time, but it was through your best friend’s smuggling that you knew Joel and his partner Tess. You still weren’t sure what their deal was, however neither Joel or Tess seemed the types to sit around and gossip about relationships.
Joel’s apartment is very similar to yours, however while you’ve tried to make your allocated apartment feel as much like a home from before as you can, Joel’s home seems stark, dustier somehow. There are few personal touches, just an out of place butterfly ornament in the kitchen you’re nervous to ask about.
“We can’t let them do this,” you add as loudly as you dare as he rustles around his kitchen.
“Oh, we can’t?” Even from the kitchen, you can tell he almost sounds amused. “They’re adults, sweetheart, they can do what they want.”
“They’ll die, Joel.”  You mean to sound forthright, firm and to the point but there’s a desperate whine in your voice that utterly betrays you.
Silence.
Joel places a glass of dubious looking alcohol in your hands and takes a large gulp of his own drink.
Your baby brother is joining the Fireflies. He’s still so young, he was just a child when everything happened and now him and Tommy have got it into their heads that they need to join the Fireflies. At least Tommy believes in the cause, you have a sneaking suspicion your brother just wants to fight, that it’s not about the cause at all. Maybe you underestimate him.
You don’t talk about what happened in those years before you headed for Boston, you keep those moments locked away tightly. You know how dangerous the need to belong is, how destructive it can get and why your brother might chase that.
“He’s not going,” you say, “I’ll stop him.”
“He’s not a kid anymore,” he says. “They’ll be fine. You need to let it go, find a way to move on, say goodbye right.” His final words poke at an open wound, because if your brother were to leave tonight then you’d never forgive yourself. His announcement tore all your scars open so you lashed out at him in a way you hadn’t before.
How fucking dare Joel Miller try and calm you down. You’ve heard enough about him to know this isn’t his personality – you know he’s angry about Tommy, you know they’ve been raging and fighting about this too. Why are the rules so different for you?
“You - you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say angrily, “no idea at all.”
“I know what it is to look after your little brother. I know what it is to see that thrown in your face.” There’s quiet fury in his voice there, one that might not he directed at you, but you feel anyway.
“It’s different,” you say, taking another swig of alcohol.
There are two years you cannot talk about, not because of what you did or didn’t do, but not talking about them doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. Your brother and you were moulded from the fires of that hell and emerged different. Stronger perhaps, but mostly different.
“You can’t stop him, you know you can’t,” he says, his voice a touch softer.
You don’t reply but take a healthy swig of your drink. There’s half a bottle of whatever crappy whiskey this is on the makeshift coffee table; one you know you’ll need a refill from in a moment.
“You realise that he isn’t leaving you, he’s just joining them,” Joel says pointedly.
“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it ain’t.”
Oh.
Oh.
Joel takes a hard gulp of his drink as you find yourself staring at your hands. You hadn’t thought about how it might feel for Joel. You’ve been so busy drowning in your own brother’s betrayal there was no room for anyone else’s pain. You take a breath and let Tommy’s words come back to you hours before for a moment.
“The things we did …”
You remember how Joel’s face had tightened, how he’d looked away for just a moment but when he had met his brother’s gaze again, his eyes were duller and his posture had straightened minutely.
You knew your brother was leaving you to go believe in the Fireflies, but Joel thought Tommy was leaving Joel because he didn’t believe in him anymore. That had to sting.
“We were meant to stick together,” you add in a small voice because that is what hurts you the most. The only way you and your brothers have survived this long is together and now your baby brother wants to mess with that. He wants to go outside where the Infected, who could tear you apart in a moment, are at least the most predictable threat he’ll encounter.
For a moment you sit in silence and use the time to observe Joel Miller. You’ve known him a while, however this is the longest time you’ve ever spent with just the two of you in a room. He’s always seemed so unknowable, so intimidating, fascinating but terrifying in equal measures. Who would have thought your brothers would be the bridge between you both? You’ve felt lonely for so long, even in a crow, and you’re sure Joel must feel the same. You can feel it too.
One drink turns into two and find yourself shifting on the sofa, one knee pointed towards him, an elbow on the top of the so far with your drink sloshing around in that hand and your gaze directly on his.
You’re staring at his lips. You shouldn’t be staring but you are. You notice how he downs his drink, how his deep brown eyes meet yours, seem softer than earlier somehow. There’s still a hardness there but the edges seem muted, blurred.
You need to stop staring at his lips.
You swear you can see the edges of his mouth twitch, almost like a smile if you didn’t know better.
You shift momentarily, move just a little closer to him because right now Joel Miller understands you. You understand him too.
You’re not sure who starts it, who is the one who brings their lips to the other first. Maybe you realise it at the same time, maybe you don’t.
You’ve thought about this before. You thought that Joel would be different, more like the man you’ve known for the years. You expected him to be cold, aloof, perhaps even perfunctory.
Joel Miller is desperation and need though.
He touches you like there are only moments left before you’re taken from him, his kisses are hungry, never satiated. “Wait – wait, what about Tess?” you ask, pulling away. You are more out of breath than you expected and every part of you wants to continue but you need to ask.
“It’s –‘s not like that,” he says, “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“I don’t want to cause -”
“Tess and me, it’s not like that. We’re not like that.”
He is everything and nothing like you expected.
His hot hands skim down your ribs, down to your legs, warming every part of you. As they move up between them you hear yourself let out a low noise.
“Oh yeah?” he whispers before kissing you harder.
Your jeans are unbuttoned and you hurry to push them down, to get closer, to be with him.
You didn’t realise how much you had ever wanted Joel until now.
The two of you are a mess of hands, gasps, and groans, pulling off clothes, getting as close as you can. You are both desperate, lost things but for a moment, just one moment you don’t feel so alone.  
It doesn’t matter you’re on a couch, that this is surely just a release of pain and a desperate need to connect with someone.
Afterwards you lie on the sofa, watch him pull his jeans back up, stand up and get another bottle of alcohol before pouring two more drinks. You watch the walls that have broken down over the past evening slowly rebuild themselves. It’s disappointing but expected.
He opens his mouth as if to stay something then stops himself.
“Don’t overthink it, I’m not,” you lie. “I won’t – I won’t tell Tess.”
He makes some sort of affirmative grunt that tells you that perhaps his resolute denial of whatever him and Tess are together was exaggerated or if that’s your anxiety. You wonder if it’s just because he’s a man who cannot show any weakness, any vulnerability anymore.
Right now, you don't want to analyse it anymore though. You don't regret it.
"I should go," you say.
"No, no - you can stay," Joel replies to your surprise. "If you want. Easier than tryin' to get past the guards at this hour."
"Okay." You take a sip of your drink, take a deep breath.
Your brother is leaving you but your world isn't going to end. The rage you felt has subsided a little now. It hurts, but you can make it through this.
You look at Joel, think about the unexpected but welcome twists of the evening, try to tell yourself it doesn't mean anything.
You know how this story goes. You will tell yourself it won’t happen again, but you already know it will. Time and time again.
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platform945 · 9 days
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Don’t let this darkness fool you (all lights turned off can be turned on) D.M
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hermione
Summary:
Draco has the perfect life, a beautiful fiancé, a huge mansion and a position as a head auror, but all of that is taken away from him when a building comes crumbling down on him and he looses use of his legs. He could deal with that, but the worst part? Hermione fucking Granger is his physical therapist.
A story in which Draco Malfoy finds hope in the form of a know it all swot.
Chapter Warning: Paralysis, Harsh Language, Hospitals.
Chapter 1
“She’s going to kill you when she finds out Malfoy.”
Potter was probably right, no matter how much Draco hated to admit it, what he was doing was extremely risky, and offensively fucking stupid. There had been a new dark object alert at a worn down, barely standing, house on the far edge of London and Draco was determined to get it before anyone else, it’s not like he had anything to prove as a former deatheater who may or may not have tried but failed at killing Dumbledore. The point was he had to come out of this house, which is rumored to have booby (haha) traps all over, without a scratch or else Astoria, his fiancé, will have his head on a stake.
The story between Draco and Astoria is a unconventionally romantic one. They were arranged by their mothers who would whisper and gossip about how “Oh they’ll have the cutest little babies” and “how do you think their wedding night is going to be spent?” and with that Draco promptly went to his room, locked his door, cast a silencing spell and screamed into his pillow. He was twenty one years old, he had no interest in settling down..that’s until he saw Astoria after all those years away from Hogwarts, he was star struck as soon as he saw her, now at twenty-three, he is planning (or more so his mother, while he gives the occasional “uh-huh”) a wedding, and praying that he doesn’t get murdered for going on the one mission he promised not to.
At least he had Potter with him.
“I mean seriously mate, she’s going to ban you from having sex with her for like a week”
Nevermind fuck Potter.
“Shut up potter” Draco hissed as they both enter a dimly lit room on the second floor of the barely standing house when he sees a journal with a vague green glow to it.
Harry puts his arm out which causes Draco to run into it with a “hmph” and sends him a deadly glare. The Harry sneaks over to the glowing object. It was very..peculiar, It reminded him of Tom Riddles diary but with less harmful intent, almost as if it was calling out his name. Harry’s fingers skim the cover of the journal and that’s when all shit hits the fan. The walls start trembling and little specks of debris falls upon their shoulders.
Now Draco would call himself a resourceful person, i mean that’s why he was in Slytherin right? self preservation and all that crap. But at that moment, all he could care about is getting the Boy Who Lived out of the house because if Draco came back and Harry didn’t..well that would raise some questions. Everything happened quickly, Draco grabbed Harry, Harry tried to grab the journal, Draco pulled him away and started running with him, down the stairs, through the hall, through the front door, Well harry made it through the front door, Draco had tripped over a loose floor plank and crashed into a weirdly placed coffee table.
“DRACO!!” Harry screamed and tried to push himself through the rubble that was all coming down at once, there was crashing, and dust, and noise, and then nothing. Harry couldn’t see Draco, and in that moment everything stopped. The reformed Deatheater was trapped under piles of walls and rubble, his legs successfully being crushed by pounds of brick, and his body not being at his own will..And yet the only think he could get himself to actually think about was if he’ll be home in time to get a good wank in. Priorities.
Everything went black.
—————————
Hospitals have always been Draco’s least favorite place, when he was ten he had fallen out of a tree after trying to save a baby bird who couldn’t yet fly, but instead stepped on a weak branch and fell down, landing on his arm resulting in a emergency to St. Mungos. He swore up and down that they were trying to break his arm even more with all of the poking and prodding that they were doing, and after that he swore to never set foot inside a hospital again. Ten year old Draco would be quite dissatisfied at this moment.
The blinding white lights override his senses as Draco slowly opens his eyes and blinks a couple of times, was he dead? surely not, his mother had promised him that when he died he would be greeted with all the sweets in the world and father promised that the most beautiful women would bow down at his feet.
He now realized that maybe that wasn’t the most normal thing to be telling your five year old. That’s besides the point.
Before anymore thoughts about his dysfunctional childhood could pop into his head he lays his eyes on his fiancé, his beautiful, amazing, murderous looking fiancé.
Astoria’s heels click across the shiny hospital room floor and as she reaches him he expects a kiss, or at least a loving embrace. Instead he gets quite a powerful slap to the shoulder. “What the HELL were you thinking Draco? you could’ve been killed! you could’ve died!”
“Merlin woman-“
“Don’t! i specifically told you not to go on this-“ Astoria’s voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands, it hurt draco deeply to see her like this, sure he’s impulsive and makes rash decisions but never with the intention of hurting her. His cold hand wraps around her small freshly manicured ones and sits up.
or at least he tries to sit up.
why can’t he sit up?
Eyebrows furrowed he lets go of the brunettes hand and slaps his legs a few times. Nothing. He tries to wiggle and move them. Nope. He looks down at his legs and shakes his head running his fingers through his hair. Why can’t he feel his legs? He sniffs and looks down his groin and hesitates before letting his fist come down on it. Yep. He can definitely feel that. Let’s hope Astoria didn’t want more than one kid.
Astoria jumps back and looks down before brushing hair from his face “Draco! have you gone mad-“
“Mr. Malfoy?”
A lady, probably in her mid fifties with salt and pepper shoulder length hair and dressed up in healer robes walks into the room with a soft smile as if everything is fine in this world. Must be nice.
“I’m Healer Brown, that was quite the accident you had there. You were stuck under the rubble for about three hours, though you blacked out after the first hour. It truly is a miracle you survived, you suffered a concussion along with a broken rib and some other sustained injuries”
Draco blinked at her before trying (and failing) to sit up again. He huffs and pushes himself up on his forearm and twists his upper body to face her more, about to ask why in the fuck knuckles he couldn’t feel his legs before he sees someone who he swore was a hallucination. He was hallucinating right? The mess of curls pulled back loosely into a high ponytail, a lilac blouse along with some muggle jeans (which didn’t annunciate her new founded curves at all, thank you very much) and a clipboard in hand.
“Granger?”
Apparently his tone wasn’t malice enough because she only responded with a soft smile before nodding. That fucking swot. he turns his head back to the healer and only then realizes that Astoria is sitting next to him and rubbing his back.
“So is he good to go home? we have a awful lot of planning to do for the wedding” Astoria all but spits out to the healer.
“Well we will have to make sure everything is-“
Draco cuts Healer Brown off almost immediately “Why did you numb my legs”
A look of confusion passed across the Healers face as she moves more to the bed, his eyes shifts to hermione only to see her face holds the same look of confusion with maybe a hint of curiosity. Draco notes that she had gotten tanner, her freckles more prominent, and her lips fuller. He looks back at the healer.
“Can you feel your legs Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco rolls his eyes “obviously fucking not”
If Healer Brown was offended by this, she made no move to show it. Instead she shoos Astoria off the bed and takes the sheets off of his lower body and squeezes his calf. “Can you feel this?”
“Nope” he says win a bored tone as he watches her.
She hits his knees with a little hammer looking thing “Here?”
“Nothing”
“What about here?”
“Nada”
Healer Brown promptly leaves the room, dragging granger with her, for what felt like hours before walking back in with a slightly more serious look on her face.
“Mr. Malfoy i’m sorry to tell you this but you’re paralyzed, you see when the rubble fell on-“
Draco couldn’t focus on what she was saying. Paralyzed? What does she mean paralyzed? He can’t be paralyzed. His job requires his legs, his mansion has at least a thousand stair cases and at least a dozen just to get to his and Astorias living quarters. And what about Astoria? Surely he wouldn’t be a suitable candidate as a husband if he has no use of his legs. no. he can’t be paralyzed. he simply refused to be.
He was brought back to reality to the sound of Astoria arguing with the Healer, something about how she was a “incompetent fucking saggy titted bird who didn’t know the first thing about Healing” and the Healer only looking mildly offended as she tried to calm his love down.
Draco interrupted their little squabble.
“Am i ever going to get use of them again”
Healer Brown looks at him with sad eyes. Fuck he hated pity.
“You must understand Mister Malfoy, the nerve damage done to your legs is incomprehensibly severe. There is a chance that you will recover but the truth of the matter is that if you ever do recover it will be a long hard and painful road. That is why i have assigned Miss Granger to be your personal Physical Therapist, she will work with you everyday on getting your strength back in your legs, as well as working in your chair”
Draco tuned her out for most of the part until he heard Granger and chair. His eyes shoot to Granger pushing a chair on two oversized wheels in and his jaw clenches. Sure he’s heard of wheelchairs before, but he had never actually seen anyone use one, he thought it was just a bloody muggle custom.
“I don’t understand” Astoria spits out as she stands up from the bed she had apparently sat back on without his knowledge. “He can’t be in a- whatever that is!”
This time Granger stepped in “Do you want someone to carry your fiancé everywhere? I understand this is less than suitable but until we figure out if we can regain enough strength in his legs, this is his only method of transportation”
There was silence.
Draco laid back down on his back and looked up.
There was silence before heels were clicking across the floor and out into a hall and a sobbed followed.
He turned his head ever so slightly to look at Granger who were giving her the same sad look Healer Brown did.
“don’t fucking look at me like that Granger, i don’t fucking need your pity nor do i need your help, get another Physical whatever and leave”
“I can’t exactly do that Malfoy” she expressed in a calm voice.
“And why not”
“Because i was the only healer out of the dozens asked, who actually agreed to work with you.”
And with that she left, Healer Brown following close behind, the only person left in the room was him with the wheelchair parked in the center of it, and on too of it sat a book, one he assumed Granger had forgotten was there. At this moment he wished life was like a book so he could sneak to the last pages, just like he did when he was younger and far too impatient, just to make sure everything would turn out okay.
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