#so I think I will let this one stay a creature pattern and not try to modify it into a dinosaur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azrielsdove · 4 months

Text

Don’t Blame Me: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Suggestive

(loosely based on the don’t blame me x LWYMMD mashup from the eras tour ngl)

***

You heard a desperate, strangled shout of your name as he went down. You screamed, anger and fear taking over. No, no, no, you chanted in your head, diving in the direction Azriel had fallen. This couldn’t happen, not to him.

The two of you were sent on a mission to investigate unknown creatures breaching the borders of the Night Court. Rhys wasn’t even able to tell you what they were, just that they were more dangerous than anything you’d dealt with before. You had been given explicit instruction to leave once you found where they were residing and report back the location. From there a larger team would be sent out to eradicate the threat.

You had been tracking them carefully for days, trying to find their home base. You were beginning to think they didn’t have one, that these creatures were nomadic. Until an hour ago. Azriel had practically dragged you as high as you could go in the sky, pointing to a cluster of trees a while away. “There,” he explained, “they reconvene there during the day.” You nodded, preparing to fly back to Velaris and tell Rhys. Azriel caught your arm, shaking his head. “I want to track them a little longer. Make sure I have the pattern right so when we come back we can have the best chance at taking them out.”

You didn’t have a good feeling about staying out, but you agreed anyway. It was important to ensure the information you had was as detailed as possible. That’s how you ended up here, wind rushing past your face as you free fell down to where Azriel landed. Please be okay.

You dropped to the ground and surveyed the area for any sign of life. There was nothing there. If you hadn’t seen Azriel fall yourself you would have assumed nothing was ever down here. You took off through the trees, heading in the direction of what you assumed was their camp. You listened carefully for any sound, whether it be danger or Azriel himself. You were nearing the clearing he had spotted earlier when you heard a slow hum, ducking back behind a tree and tucking your wings tight against you. You poked your head out to watch two of the creatures move farther in the area, Azriel dragged between the two of them. Your heart ached at the blood running down his face and his limp body.

You followed the creatures until you were at the edge of the camp, watching their moves intently. The tied Azriel to a tree trunk, moving and muttering around him. You were taking in how many you saw, estimating that about 30 of these things were living here. Your nose wrinkled at the sight of the insect-like beings, their long stingers the supposed most dangerous part of them. The creatures were roughly the size of an Illyrian soldier, resembling wasps more than any type of fae. Large, disgusting wasps. The hum grew louder as what you supposed was the leader approached Azriel. Your toes curled as you watched the way it yanked his face up, inspecting the unconscious male.

It turned to one of its workers, a horrible clicking sound coming from its mouth. The other responded in the same way, the language grating against your ears. They turned back to Azriel, continuing to talk about him. You wished more than anything you could understand what they were saying. You looked over Azriel again, noticing that his blades were still strapped to his body. Did the creatures not realize what they were? Or were they truly so deadly they didn’t need to worry about disarming their enemies? A chill ran through your spine at the thought.

The leader let out a loud screech and the others filed into neat rows in front of it. You paled at the sight of them all together. What were you going to do? You desperately called for Rhys in your mind, knowing he likely would never hear you. Even if he did, how long would it take him to get here? Azriel might not have that much time left.

The leader gave some sort of command, and you watched in horrified shock as they all opened their mouths. Long, sharp, straw-like tubes came out, heading straight towards Azriel. You didn’t have time to think before you ran out there, quick enough to take them by surprise and get in front of him. The creatures all stopped, taking in this new sight in front of them. Adrenaline was pumping through your body, the only thought you had was to save Azriel.

Don’t blame me.

You pressed your back to his front, reaching behind to grab on to one of the swords strapped to his chest. Your warrior eyes darted around the creatures, desperately searching for any sign of weakness.

Don’t blame me.

The leader moved towards you, that horrible straw coming straight to your face instead. In a split-second decision you ripped the sword from its place on Azriel’s chest, a loud scream tearing from your throat as you swung. Tense silence spread through the woods, followed by a sickening squelch as the creature split in half.

Don’t blame me for what you made me do.

The other creatures all swarmed towards you at once, your screams and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor echoing through the woods around you. You became feral, tapping into the deepest parts of your Illyrian training. All you knew was to not let them touch Azriel. One of those horrid straws sank into your thigh, a searing pain ripping through your skin. You yelled, the next strike aimed at the creature who attacked. The wound burned like acid had been poured into your bloodstream, and knowing the way these creatures worked it probably had. You couldn’t let that stop you, not when Azriel was in danger.

Look what you made me do.

You fought back with more anger, cutting down creature after creature. You were a force of pure power, midnight blue siphons a thing of deadly beauty. Another straw embedded itself into your arm, the sword clanging to the ground. You wrapped your uninjured hand around the pulsating thing, ripping it out of your skin. You squeezed your hand around it, harder and harder until you felt the satisfying pop of it breaking. The creature it was attached to howled and you shot it square in the chest with your power. You looked around, noting there were only three of these left. Even with your arm and leg out of commission, you felt you could finish these last few off.

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy.

Your uninjured arm slid down, pulling out a dagger you had strapped to your thigh. You surveyed the three creatures around you, deciding to go for the middle one. You roared, jumping forward and latching on to the nasty beast. Your dagger rammed into its chest and you slid down, your weight pulling the blade down its body. It screeched as you were showered with its sticky green blood, collapsing backwards. You turned to the other two, adrenaline dulling the pain of your injuries as you pulled out a second dagger.

Oh, Lord save me, my drug is my baby I’ll be using for the rest of my life.

The two convened on you at the same time and you swung out both arms, spinning in a death dance with the blades. You landed on one knee in front of Azriel, twin thuds from behind you letting you know you struck true. Your breathing was heavy as you looked up, up into his wide eyes. He murmured your name and you dropped the daggers, the adrenaline rushing out of you. You winced at the sudden pain in your arm and leg, spreading quickly from your intense use of them. You fell forward, body shaking while you tried to push yourself up. You had to untie Azriel, he had to get out of here.

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy.

You forced yourself up with a cry, fingers undoing the knots the creatures had used to keep Azriel trapped. He pulled out of them the second he could, catching you as your weakened body fell against him. “I got you, I got you,” he whispered, cradling you tight to his chest before shooting off into the sky. Far, far away from the carnage you unleashed on those creatures who dared to threaten him.

***

“No, Rhys, i’ve never seen anything quite like it. She took out all of them. Heavily injured on top of that.” You recognized Azriel’s voice, muffled as if he was standing behind a door. You tried to open your eyes, but your eyelids felt as if they were ten thousand pounds each.

“That can’t be. You’re certain no one else was around? I’ve never heard of one single person taking out 30 of them. I’ve rarely heard of someone taking out just one on their own.” Rhysands voice was contemplative, trying to understand how you could have pulled off such a feat.

“I know that. I saw her do it Rhys. She was a true force of raw power.” Azriel sounded…in awe of you. You forced your eyes open, blinking as you adjusted to the soft light pouring in from the windows. You looked around the room, realizing Rhys and Azriel must be standing right outside the cracked door. You tried to sit up, a loud gasp of pain ripping from you at the action.

The sound alerted the two males outside, the door flinging open as they rushed in. “How are you feeling?” Azriel demanded, immediately coming to your side. You tried to sit again, the pain knocking the breath out of you. “Let me help,” he said softly, gently pulling you into a sitting position.

“I think i’m okay. In a lot of pain. What happened?” Your throat was sore, voice gravelly. You assumed you had been out for some time. Rhys observed you carefully, like you were a specimen he was investigating.

“You took on a hoard of those creatures. Alone. Do you remember that?” His question was almost accusatory, as if he didn’t believe the story.

You nodded. “Yes.” The reminder of those horrible bug creatures made you shiver, the sounds of them dying echoing in your ears.

“Can you show me? How you did it?” Rhys’ eyes bore into you, almost a threat. You stared right back, not appreciating the doubt from your friend.

“Go ahead. I have nothing to hide.” A claw stroked your mental shields and you dropped them easily. The memories of the fight began playing, the anger you felt overtaking your senses. If you hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have believed the strength you showed to defeat all of them. The reminder of your wounds stung your healing skin, Rhys even wincing as he watched. He could feel your rage, your power.

He could feel the dedication and love you felt towards Azriel.

You threw your shields back up at that, not wishing to let him in any further. He had seen enough. Rhys blinked at you, eyes flitting between you and Azriel. “I see,” he mused. “Well, you certainly did kill them all. That’s quite some feat of power. I think perhaps I should tell Cassian to up your training.” He winked at you and moved to leave the room. “I’ll let the healers know you are awake. I will be back later to check in.” He left, closing the door quietly behind him. Leaving you with Azriel.

Azriel, who was looking at you like you were the most delicate flower he had ever seen. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His concern struck a chord in you, a hand reaching out for his.

“I will be just fine. How are you? Is your head okay?” Your eyes scanned his hairline, relieved that there seemed to be no permanent damage.

“I’m good. My wounds weren’t half as bad as yours. They knocked me unconscious once I hit the ground.” His eyes lowered and he ran his thumb over your joined hands. “I should’ve been there for you. To help.”

You squeezed his hand in your own. “You were attacked, Az. I’m just glad I was able to get to you in time. If I were a moment later…” your voice trailed off and tears pricked at your eyes. Those straws were so close to stabbing into his body, sucking the life out of him.

“Hey,” he said, looking back up at you. “You saved my life. That’s all that matters.” He gave you a smile, your heart squeezing tight.

“Yea,” you agreed, even though you wished to say more. You wanted to tell him you loved him, be honest about your feelings. You were so close to losing him, to losing any chance to be with him. The fear of rejection stopped you from continuing, the way it always did.

Azriel was looking at you intently, eyes seeming to read your mind. You put on a small smile, pushing your feelings back down. His eyes dipped down to your lips, gaze heavy. Your heart skipped at his expression of hunger. “Az,” you whispered as he leaned closer to you.

“Hm?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your mouth.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was a whisper, so quiet you weren’t sure he could hear you.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” He ducked his head down then, pressing his lips to yours. You went completely still at the touch of him, mind in overdrive. He began to pull away when you came to, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back. You kissed him hard then, the way you wished you had when you thought he was going to die. When you thought you’d never get the chance to.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight to him. You ignored the protest of pain in your arm and leg, focusing on the feel of Azriel pressed up against you. Of his mouth on yours. The way one of his hands began traveling down your thigh, fingers running along the edge of your nightgown. He bit gently on your lower lip, a silent question to open your mouth. You obliged, moaning at the taste of him. His fingers dug into your thigh at the noise and you let out a cry of pain.

Azriel pulled away from you quickly, apologizing immediately. “Maybe we should wait until you’re healed.” You sighed at the statement, but unfortunately agreed. You wanted to enjoy your first time tasting, feeling, loving Azriel. You pouted at him as he readjusted you, laying you back down on your pillows. He brushed a stray piece of hair off your forehead, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your skin. “I love you.”

Your heart was going to thud out of your chest. “I love you too.” Your declaration was a tad breathless, trying to decide if you could actually ignore the pain long enough to get on top of the male. He laughed, sensing your thoughts and gave you a soft kiss. You had waited so long for this moment, to have your love reciprocated.

“You need to rest.” He moved to hover slightly over you, carefully moving his way down your body. His fingers found the edge of your gown again, eyes looking up to yours from between your legs. “There are plenty of other ways I can please you.”

***

I needed to write something that was a request or a series, so this is what happened. I hope you guys enjoyed it!!! <3

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel smut #don’t blame me

402 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 1 year

Text

My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

774 notes · View notes

lavendersartistry · 1 month

Text

You Love Them, Don't You?

Space Riders AU - @onyxonline KoiRite - @lavendersartistry

This fic is for onyxonline's Space Riders AU, this time with shenanigans in KoiRite's planet Imbeko! This fic is mainly centered around Onyx's OC Z and my OC, KoiRite! Please check Onyx out, their work is super cool!

Bhekumbuso, a raging province of Imbeko and home to the panthers. The state for improvement of one's values and goals; the leader.

As welcoming as it was, a particular masked tuxedo cat kept to himself for the time being. Z stayed in the shadows as he observed the servants at work within the palace. He took in the sites, the interior of the whole place.

"Enjoying yourself, Tux?"

Z suddenly turned his head, his own helmet meeting Koi's. Then down to her attire. He crossed his arms, lightly scoffing.

"Coming back from a mission, Warrior?"

Koi let her helmet disappear at silent command, the rose gold fangs framing her face once the protective material dissolved. She tilted her neck as the bones quietly cracked.

"Unfortunately. I apologize I wasn't at the entrance to give you a tour of Bhekumbuso. I hope my brothers weren't a handful."

Z shrugged, nodding off her apology.

"They were alright, nothing too bad. But about a tour of the palace-"

"Hold on there."

Koi handed him a shawl with embroidered patterns of Imbeko's mythological creatures. She lightly patted his shoulder with a small chuckle.

"Mother would scold me if you weren't given the guest shawl when you came. It's yours to keep if you want."

Z nodded, taking a look back at the detail. Koi smirked and walked off, starting off the tour of the palace.

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

"So, you and Solaris?"

Z turned his head to Koi as the two were out in the garden, the visor on his helmet making a confused expression.

"What do you mean?"

Koi glanced his way with a soft smirk and leaned back against a savannah tree.

"I've seen it, the times you fall secretly for him."

Z turned his head away, sighing heavily as he rested his head on his closed fist. He didn't think it wouldn't be possible.

"It can't happen. I've done things... and I don't think it wouldn't be possible for us.."

Koi raised a eyebrow then placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You underestimate DogDay. He understands you, cares for you. Who says it's not possible for you two?"

Z's ears on his helmet pinned down to his head, showing his fear.

"Koi, I-"

"You love him, don't you? Then try. Try to let yourself see that everyone is right here for you. Even him."

Z then went silent to Koi's assuring words. Then he nodded.

He just has to try.

#mutuals | sillies online #mutual: onyxonline #Space Riders AU - onyxonline au #space riders au #smiling critters au #smiling critters #casually plays I Wont Say Im In Love in the background #ITLL BE FINE Z DONT WORRY BOUT IT #writing Z as accurate as i could for reasons that I CANNOT SAY #top secret things #yall gotta wait for that bit

101 notes · View notes

sweetsweetjellybean · 10 months

Text

If Tomorrow Never Comes | Part 4 | The Reason

Summary: Trapped in the Upside Down, Steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. Doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story?

Adapted from As The World Burns by @myeuphoricmindset

TW: FemReader, Angst, Smut WC:11038 Masterlist Here

The nights are louder than he remembers. Full of the songs of the cicadas and peepers. The occasional croak of a bullfrog or the hoot of an owl. The distance sounds of traffic from streets away. Somehow it all seems much louder than the Upside-Down. Between the booms of thunder and howls of creatures, there were hours of absolute silence. It’s been six weeks, and Steve hasn’t forgotten how the silence made him feel. Anxious and defensive, like an itch he could never scratch.

Returning to his dark empty house, the quiet is more than he can stand. It’s become routine for him to sit outside on one of the loungers, watching the last rays of gold sink beneath the treeline, waiting for the sky to cycle through the palette of sunset until darkness finally gives way to the burst of stars. The nighttime sounds calm his worries. This is home. Sitting there, he tries to remember every detail so that it can never be taken from him again. Focusing on the pattern of shadows woven across the moon, he can’t help thinking about you. Are you looking up at the same sky?

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Nancy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as she steps out of the house from the sliding glass door. “You didn’t answer when I knocked. I hope you don’t mind. I let myself in.”

“Of course not,” Steve says, twisting to look at her over his shoulder, “Come have a seat,” he gestures to the chaise beside him.

She moves into the space between the two loungers sitting down sideways so she can face him, folding her dainty hands in her lap. “I heard you were at Dustin’s all day today.”

“I put some shingles on that spot on the roof where the tree fell. They don’t need it leaking when it rains.” Construction is underway all over town. Minor projects are getting pushed down the waitlist as tradesmen try to complete the most lucrative jobs first, so Steve has been doing what he can to help his friends and neighbors.

“Well, that was nice of you,” she comments with a smile.

“Well, if you haven’t heard, I’m a nice guy,” he says with smug charm, his lips quirking on one side, aiming to pull an incredulous laugh from her.

“I think I may have heard that somewhere before,” she giggles, rolling her eyes before continuing, “You must be hungry. Do you want to get something to eat?”

“Nah, Mrs. Henderson made pot roast. She wouldn’t let me leave until I ate two helpings.” He rubs his flat stomach, smiling. Dustin’s mom always makes him feel like family.

“How about a movie then?” she asks, hope filling her voice.

“I’m exhausted, Nance.” He reaches out, patting her hand, “It’s a nice night. Stay here with me for a while.”

“You’ve been sitting out here a lot lately.” She looks down to where his hand covers hers.

“I never realized what I had until I almost lost it,” he says, pulling away from her and looking back towards the horizon. “I like it out here. It helps me think.”

“Think about what?”

“Everything…nothing. I don’t know.” The longer he looks, the more stars come into view. Simple truths are relieved by just taking the time to look.

“You’ve been so distant.”

Her words have him turning towards her again. She’s still looking down, wrapping her arms around herself, her small hands disappearing into the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be,” he frowns, watching how she’s trying to protect herself, “Are you cold?” He sits up, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off his shoulders. “Here. Sit back.” He stands and waits for her to swing her legs onto the lounger before tucking his coat over her like a blanket.

“Thanks,” she pauses, settling into the leftover warmth, “I thought this would be our time, and I’ve hardly seen you. We haven’t… we’re barely ever alone together.”

He runs a hand through his hair before sitting sideways on the lounger, taking up her position from earlier. “I guess we haven’t,” he says, knowing he’s been neglecting her, but there’s not much left of himself to give, “Work is keeping me busy, and the kids–”

“Steve,” she cuts him off, frustrated by his excuses, “Volunteering at the shelter and doing odd jobs for free doesn’t count as work. And the kids don’t need you to babysit them anymore. Robin’s been back at Family Video for a few weeks now. She told me that Keith has called you.”

“I don’t want to go back to Family Video,” he says, looking away. He’s been over all this before with Robin. “I’m not ready.”

“I know it’s been hard. We’ve all been through so much, but Max is healing. The kids are fine. Everyone is moving on. It’s time for you to start your life.”

His mouth opens with surprise. “Nance, the kids aren’t fine. Have you seen them? Max is struggling.”

“She’s getting better.”

“Nancy, she’s blind. And it’s not just her. Haven’t you seen the way Lucas panics every time he has to leave her side, even for a few minutes?”

“Steve,” she sits up, his jacket slipping down around her waist as she swings her legs to the side, reaching across the space between them to take his hand, “Nothing you can do is gonna fix that.”

“I know that,” he mumbles, but even acknowledging it stirs his guilt.

“I think you should come with me to Boston.” her fingers tighten around his as if she can already sense his reluctance.

“Boston? For school?”

“I think you’ll really like it there. It’s smaller than Indianapolis, and there are all these great old buildings. I called Emerson, and I’ve got it all figured out. It’s not too late to get the money back from my room and board. We can get an apartment, and I can get a job on the weekends.”

“I don’t know. You’re supposed to be studying, not working,” he shakes his head, looking away, “I don’t even know what I’d do in Boston.”

“It’s a city. I’m sure you can find some job that you’d like. Anything is better than Scoops, right? Maybe you can even go to school?”

“Sure, Nance, I didn’t get in at Hawkin’s Community, but I’ll pull out that acceptance letter I got from Harvard.” his eyes roll.

“Then just be with me, Steve. Let’s try and make it work this time,” she moves her head, seeking his eyes, trying to break through the wall between them ever since he’s been back.

He swallows hard and meets her eyes. “I want to, but I can’t leave them.”

She blows out a deep breath and lets go of his hand.

“What if something happens? What if it starts again?”

“It’s not going to, Steve. It’s over,” she emphasizes, like it's something she’s explained before. “Why can’t anyone accept that?” Her question makes him realize maybe she has just not to him. He may not be the only one thinking of someone else. Steve has only seen Will a few times since he’s been home. The boy’s clothes were even looser on his slight frame, and purple skin circled his sunken eyes, and Jonathan wasn’t leaving for school in the fall.

“That’s what we thought the last time, Nance. That’s what we’ve thought every time,” he says, his voice quiet but resolved, “I need to stay until they graduate–”

“That’s three more years,” she complains.

“They need me.”

“I need you.”

“No, you don’t.” he gives her a soft smile, reaching for her again, “You never have, not even once.”

She swipes at the tears forming in her eyes before they can fall. There isn’t anything else she can say.

“Come’er,” he tugs her off her seat, pulling her into his side as he settles back onto his lounger. Her arm wraps around him as she rests her head on his chest, the worry coming off her in waves. “It’s going to be alright, he smooths his hand over her hair, “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, snuggling closer, “Just don’t take too long.”

He holds her tightly as he looks back toward the darkened sky, the endless stars glinting as brightly as the moon. He tries to imagine his life with her in Boston, sitting on the rooftop of their tiny apartment. Would the stars shine as vividly with all the city lights? Would he still be thinking of you?

“Double check for any loose nails,” Steve instructs Dustin as he climbs down the ladder, his white t-shirt covered in sweat and dirt.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Dustin says smartly as he picks up the discarded singles that Steve had tossed down from the roof and throws them into the trash barrel.

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the lawn mower,” he points his finger at the boy before picking up a bottle of water and taking a long pull. Despite the cool nights, the heat during the day still felt oppressive, and he could feel the tenderness of a burn beginning on the back of his neck.

“You don’t want one of those shooting out of the mower,” the boy mimics in a mocking voice before adding, “What an asshole.”

“Hey!” Steve fumes, settling his hands on his hips just as Mrs. Henderson comes toddling out of the house holding two glasses of lemonade.

“Oh boys, you finished! It looks so nice,” she says, handing the boys the lemonade and stepping back to admire the view, “You two did a great job.”

“You can’t even see it from down here, Mom,” Dustin scoffs. Earning a warning glance from Steve.

“Well, I can just tell,” Claudia Henderson informs her son, “It’s going to be such a relief not to worry every time it rains,” she says, turning her attention to the other boy, “I can’t thank you enough, Steven. I know you said I couldn’t pay you but here,” she pulls some folded bills from her pocket trying to hand them to Steve.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve waves his palms in front of his chest, “The pot roast was thanks enough. It’s been a while since I had a meal like that.”

“Well, you’re welcome anytime. Isn’t that right, Dusty?” She looks for confirmation from her son. When Dustins folds his arms across his chest with a mumble of ‘son of a bitch’, her face goes red with embarrassment. She recovers quickly, smiling at Steve, “Would you like to stay tonight? I’ve got a casserole already to go in the oven.”

“Well–”

“Not tonight, Mom,” Dustin cuts in before Steve can finish, “I’m going to Gareth’s for Hellfire.”

“Dusty, We’ve talked about this. I don’t think that’s safe after everything that’s happened,” Claudia says, her fingers clutching the front of her shirt.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. Eddie’s dead. What more do you want?”

“Watch it, Henderson,” Steve says, putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Steven,” Dustin says, shrugging him off.

“Dusty!“

“Excuse us,” Steve says to Mrs. Henderson as he grabs Dustin by the collar and yanks him around the corner of the house.

“Since when do you talk to your mother like that?” Steve asks the boy as he releases him against the side of the house. “I know you’ve been feeling bad since Eddie, but you need to get this attitude in check. She doesn’t deserve that, and neither does anyone else.”

“Don’t you dare say his name,” Dustin says, his voice rising in anger as he puts both hands on Steve’s chest and shoves him away. “You didn’t know him or care about him. Just do me a favor and add his name to the list of people you don’t give a shit about and forget you ever met him.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, confused. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Ding ding ding. Good detective work, Sherlock Holmes,” Dustin says, trying to walk away until Steve stops him, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“So help me, I may not win many fights, but I know I can kick your ass, you little shit,” he pushes Dustin back against the house. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“Like you care,” the boy spits, his face red with anger.

“Of course I care!” Steve yells, waving his hands. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Dustin challenges.

“What?”

“Just until you get to play the hero again. Right, Steve?” he asks sarcastically.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” Steve asks, catching on. How can he actually think that? “That’s what this is all about because I pushed you through the gate? I did that for you. So you wouldn’t get stuck there. Someone had to stay-“

“Don’t give me that. You did it to be the hero. I begged Eddie not to go back,” Dustin yells, his voice cracking, nose beginning to run, “He just wouldn’t listen, and neither would you. I don’t need another dead friend, Steve. I need you here.”

“I am here!”

“I heard you,” he says, swiping at his eyes, “When El found you, screaming for her not to take you. You don’t know what it took to get you out. To get that gate back open. What we risked. Tell me again how much you care about us.”

“You got this all wrong. I care about you. All of you,” Steve shakes his head and pulls the boy into a reluctant hug, “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, you understand?”

Dustin nods into Steve’s chest, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and Steve recognizes the gesture as his own. He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out thick with emotion. “All I thought about was getting home, man. I just couldn’t leave her behind.”

Dustin sniffs, one arm reluctantly landing on Steve’s back. “There’s one thing I don’t get, Steve. If she was so important, then where is she?”

The polished silverware slides against each other, hitting the back of the drawer with a loud clank when Steve yanks it open with more force than necessary. He pulls out a fork and retrieves the open can of SpaghettiOs before heading outside through the slider of the sunroom. The conversation with Dustin plays on a loop in his mind. It’s clear the scars that they all bear are more than skin deep. How do you rejoin a life that doesn’t belong to you anymore?

He sits on the lounger stirring the tomatoey contents of the can. It’s later than usual. The sun has long since dipped below the horizon. A light mist hangs over the pool's surface, its blue-green light brightening the dark corners of the yard. With the thick clouds obscuring the waning moon and stars, the woods surrounding the yards stay shrouded in shadows. Decisions hang over his head like a knife about to drop, hurting the people he cares about. It’s not the past that’s hard to let go. It’s the future that was never supposed to be.

“I don’t know how you can stand that stuff cold,” Hopper’s voice comes from beside Steve just as the first bite passes his lips.

“I guess it’s just a habit now,” Steve replies as Hopper eases himself down on the chair beside him, a six-pack in his hand. He pulls one from the plastic ring, handing it to Steve before taking one for himself.

“Hmm,” Hopper cracks the tab of the Schlitz and takes a loud slurp, “Habits can be hard to break.”

Hopper had been dropping by Steve’s a couple of times a week since he had been home. Steve isn’t sure if this is Hopper’s way of checking up on him or if he just wants an hour of quiet before returning to the full house he shares with Joyce. Hopper has as much on his mind as Steve. Some nights they don’t exchange more than a few words. Whatever his reasoning for stopping by, Steve welcomes the company.

“So,” Steve says after washing down a couple more mouthfuls of Spaghettios with the cold beer, “If I needed to find the address for someone outside of town, is that something you could help me with?”

Hopper’s answer comes in the form of a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulls a slip of paper from his breast pocket, holding it out to Steve in between two fingers.

There’s a skeptical look on Steve’s face as he takes the paper from the older man. Hopper picks up his beer, going in for another sip as Steve unfolds the note, his eyes widening.

“You’re a damn good cop. You know that, right?” Steve asks, stuffing the paper into the pocket of his jeans.

“You’re not the first one to tell me, kid,” Hopper says, settling back into his lounge and looking to the sky where the clouds have shifted and thinned. Beams of light push through the thin wisps, brightening the darkness. “Whatta ya know?” Hopper says, pulling a cigar from the same pocket, “Looks like it might be a clear night after all.”

A light breeze blows the gauzy material of your sundress around your bare legs as you walk down the street toward your apartment. As you hitch your tote higher, the sun warms your shoulders, and a smile plays at your lips. The pieces of your life always find their way together like a jigsaw puzzle without the bigger picture. Forcing them into what you want never works, but eventually, they fit, a new section more beautiful than you imagined is laid out before you.

Your eyes lift from the sidewalk as a car speeds past, Higher Love blasting out of its open windows. The notes blend with the rush of wind through the trees that line your street. One yellow leaf flutters to the ground, an unmistakable sign that the end of summer is near. You watch the car cruise down the road until it passes the stone steps of your apartment. Your stomach and heart turn somersaults when you see him sitting there watching you from behind a pair of dark avatars, a million-dollar smile gracing his handsome face. Your pulse quickens as you approach, wondering if he will always have this effect on you.

“Hi,” he says, pulling off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his white tee just as the car turns the corner and the music fades away.

“Hi yourself,” you say, stopping in front of him. “This is a surprise.”

“I thought it was fair,” he shrugs, squinting up at you with one eye slightly closed. “We have unfinished business.” He moves his coat and an empty soda can to his other side, inviting you to join him on the steps.

Climbing a few, you sit next to him, letting the bag fall from your shoulder to rest beside you. “What’s this business?” you ask, your arms circling your knees.

He smirks in response, turning to pull something from his jacket. Returning with a cellophane packet of Twinkies in his hand. “The other pack got a little squished,” he explains as his long fingers tear open the packaging, “These are fresher. I checked the date.” He hands you one of the yellow cakes before taking the other for himself.

“Thanks,” you laugh, taking the slightly sticky treat from his hand. He brings his to his mouth but pauses, wanting to watch you take your first bite, and you oblige him. One hand hovering under your mouth to catch the crumbs as your teeth breach the soft cake. The sweetness is overwhelming you as much as his gesture. “Mmmm, that’s good,” you say with your mouth still full.

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling, taking pleasure in your reaction, at how it feels just being near you again like no time has passed.

“Mmmhmm.” Your tongue darts out, licking the filling from your lips, missing a tiny glob in the corner. Before you can make a second pass, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his mouth to taste. Behind you, the apartment door opens, and your neighbor from upstairs is maneuvering around you with a heavy box in his arms. Steve’s arm is around your waist, pulling you closer to his side, giving your neighbor more room to get by. It happens quick enough for you to feel dizzy. Five minutes ago, you didn’t think you’d see him again, and now he’s surrounding you, heat lingering like a ghost every place he touches you. The thin material of your skirt barely separates your skin from his Levi-covered legs, his mouth just inches from yours as he bites into his Twinkie.

Your hand shakes as you turn away from him to pull a bottle of water from your bag. Twisting the lid, you take a few gulps to give yourself a moment to regroup.

“Are you alright?” He eyes you with a curious expression. He knows you too well. “Is it okay that I’m here?” He asks, his voice dropping, turning serious.

“I’m always glad to see you, Steve,” you answer honestly. It’s the goodbyes that you can’t bear.

He takes a moment, looking down at the cracked sidewalk. “You look really pretty,” the corners of his mouth lift but not with charm or arrogance, with something much softer. “I mean, you’re always pretty, but when I saw you coming down the street, you looked happy. I didn’t get to see that when we were…there.”

“Thank you. So do you, but I kind of miss the axe.”

A laugh bursts from deep in his chest, “Yeah? Did that do it for you?”

“Definitely,” you giggle, nudging him with your shoulder, “Want some?” You tip your bottle towards him.

“Sure,” he takes it from you.

“It’s my new habit,” you nod toward the bottle, “I get a bit panicked if I don’t have water with me. Kinda crazy, right?”

“Nah,” he takes a sip before replacing the cap and handing it back to you, “That’s not so bad as far as habits go. It’s kind of a smart one, actually. I keep eating Chef Boyardee cold.”

“Eww.” Your nose scrunches.

“Right out of the can,” he chuckles, his fingers circling your wrist, gently pulling your arm into his lap, turning it to reveal the healing scar running down the inside of your arm. “I can’t stand the quiet at night,” he says without looking up from your arm. “I sit outside on my back deck for the noise. It’s where I think about you.” His long fingers trace the raised skin with the softest pressure. “I fall asleep out there most nights.”

“I sleep with the lights on,” you admit in a quieter voice, loving and hating how he touches you like you belong to him-like you’ll always belong to him. “And I stuff a couple of pillows behind me, so it feels like yo–like I’m not alone.”

His eyes lock with yours, and his fingers still. An ache that dulled over the past few weeks but never disappeared completely, crashes over you like a wave. You belong to him, but he’ll never be yours. Not here. Only in another world. Pulling your arm back, you wrap it back around your knees.

He frowns, sensing the shift between you, and changes the subject. “Were you coming from school?” he nods in the direction you came from.

“Oh. Um, yeah,” you say, following his eyes. The center of campus is a few blocks away from your apartment.

“Have classes started?” he asks, thinking about the answer he owes Nancy.

“No. Not for a few more weeks. I-uhh…I was changing my schedule. I’m not going to do fieldwork anymore. I’m going to teach instead. Maybe high school,” you explain.

“But you loved it,” his eyebrows pull together in a straight line.

The same expression your advisor gave you when you told him. “I know, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

His Adam’s apple bobs, an expression of guilt washing over his face.

“Hey, don’t feel bad for me. Teaching’s a good gig. Great hours. Summers off. There are worse jobs.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he says, recovering. “You can force all those kids to listen to your bad jokes.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, squeezing your knees tighter, “What about you? Have you figured out what you want to do yet?”

“No, not yet,” his head turns away, looking down the other side street, “Nancy wants me to come with her to Boston.”

Your heart cracks open even though you knew this was coming. “So you’re together again?”

He turns, shaking his head, “No. Not really. She wants to be.”

“And what do you want?” you ask, but your heart already knows the answer.

“I don’t know,” both hands card through his thick hair, pulling on the ends, “I don’t know. It’s not that easy. The kids….Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Nothing’s made sense since the last time I was with you. That’s why I had to see you.”

“I think you know exactly what you want.” You place your hand on his knee, a gesture meant to comfort, but he takes full advantage, covering your hand with his, lacing his fingers through yours. You should pull away, but your heart pleads to take what you can. Goodbye is just on the horizon.

“You’ve loved her for so long.”

“It doesn’t feel right anymore,” he argues, leaning closer, his forehead brushing yours.

“I think,” you pause, wetting your lips, and his eyes track the movement. “I think you’ve been making decisions thinking of everyone else for so long you’ve forgotten what it’s like to choose something that will make you happy.”

“What if the right thing,” his voice has dropped to just louder than a whisper as his nose runs along your cheek, “and what I want is the same thing?”

“Steve,” your breaths are coming in shudders from deep in your chest. Tears sting behind your eyes as a cruel voice repeats from the back of your mind. He’ll never choose you.

“Can we go inside?” his lips touch yours with the barest of brushes.

His question is a jolt of ice water up your spine. You’ve indulged yourself too long. If you let him in now, tomorrow when he’s gone, you won’t recover. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say, pulling back. You let your resolve steel your spine as you stand. Climbing a few steps, putting distance between you.

He stands, trying to follow. Sadness and confusion marring his pretty face. “Honey– "

You stop him with a hand held out in front of you. “All of this. Everything we’ve been through. It happened so you can get what you’ve always wanted. So she can see you. Don’t throw it away, Steve. You’re going to thank me someday.”

His mouth opens, but he can’t find the words. Stepping forward, you throw your arms around him in a hug too quick for him to return before you step back. “I’m so happy to have seen you again.” you smile, working hard to keep your tone enthusiastic, promising yourself you will not fall apart despite the pain. Not this time. “Send me a postcard from Boston, okay?” you ask, but you’re already turning away, pulling your keys from your tote, and moving to the door.

“I miss you,” he says. The pain in his voice makes you pause and close your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone before, not the way I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you turn back to him. You know he’s trying, but it’s not enough, not after having him. He’s still not choosing you, and you deserve someone who will, even though it’s so tempting to give in to him.

“Maybe I’ll surprise you next time,” you keep it light, “I’ll show up in Boston when I need someone to share a Twinkie. Take care of yourself, Steve,” you push your key into the lock.

“Wait. Wait, he says, waving his hands before they settle on his hips, “If you’re so sure I’m supposed to be with her, then what’s your reason? Why were you there? Why did we even meet?”

Your eyes shift to your shoes, trying to find an answer that isn’t a lie, reasoning that it’s okay to lie if it’s for his own good. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The lock clicks before he can say anything else, and you quickly seal yourself on the other side. You wait until you see him walking down the steps to let yourself into your apartment. Immediately dropping your bag and leaning your back against the door. Your hand moves to your stomach as you silently apologize for your lie. Pushing away, you walk through your tiny kitchen to the refrigerator. Rubbing your eyes, you refuse to let a tear fall. You won’t regret doing the right thing. Your hand wraps around the handle before you yank it open and pull out a juice container. “It was the right thing,” you whisper, letting the door swing closed, revealing the black and white strip of photos of a small blurry shape taped to the other side. “For all of us.”

The buzzing from the cars zooming past in a haphazard flow does nothing to calm Steve’s nerves as he makes the long drive back to Hawkins.

“Fuck,” he slams his hand against the wheel as the memory of you closing that door, shutting him out of your life, replays in his mind. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. He shouldn’t have pushed. After being apart for so long, he should have known better. But seeing you come down the street, having you so close–it was like no time had passed. It felt natural to touch you. He had just wanted to talk. Just wanted to see that you were alright, but the feel of your soft skin under his fingertips had only made him want more. And then, just like before, it was over before it really began.

Steve snaps off the radio, cutting off Lindesy’s pleas. One thing had come out of it, though. He had gone to you looking for clarity, and you had given it to him. You were right. He does know what he wants. He keeps the radio off, rolling down the window, listening to the sounds of life around him. Watching the highways turn into towns and more familiar roads until he was crossing the Hawkins town line. Passing the turn for Cornwallis, he heads north toward Maple. The house is dark when he pulls into the driveway, his lights bouncing off the second-story window he had climbed through more than a few times before. But not tonight. He turns the key, pulling it from the ignition, the leather creaking as he leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. The light’s still low, just breaking, when the knock on his window wakes him. The blue of Nancy’s eyes is brighter than the sky as she stands barefoot, freezing her nightgown. She takes his hand as they walk inside.

“I’m working on it, Flo,” Hopper yells in response to the knock at his closed office door. He scrambles for the empty file folder stuck between his booted feet and the desk that they are resting on. He wraps the folder around the copy of Car and Driver that he’s been reading and quickly shoves the half-eaten donut into his top drawer. Replacing it with a red apple that he takes a big bite of just as his door swings open.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says as Steve wanders into his office, shutting the door behind him and sitting heavily in the chair in front of Hopper’s desk.

“What do you want?” Hopper asks as he settles back further in his chair, his eyes moving back to the file folder he’s holding up in front of him.

“How about a job?” Steve asks, his eyes roving around the small office.

“Ha, good one,” Hopper chuckles, pulling out a camel from his breast pocket.

“I’m serious, Hop.”

Hopper narrows his eyes as he lights his cigarette. “What’s gotten into you, kid? Having regrets about not leaving with Nancy a few weeks ago?”

“No. Nothing like that. It was never gonna work out,” Steve says, shaking his head. He said goodbye to Nancy the morning she found him outside her house. He loved her, but they weren’t right for each other. It would have left them both broken if they’d forced their lives to fit together. So, he let her go like you had let him go with affection and without regrets. Another chapter closed.

“I’m ready to figure out what to do with my life.”

Hopper stays quiet, taking another drag from his smoke.

“I figure I’m pretty good at helping people, so that’s what I want to do,” Steve shrugs.

“This isn’t just helping old ladies across the street, Harrington,” Hopper says, sitting up in his chair and blowing out a steady stream of smoke, “It’s hard work.”

“Yeah, I can eat donuts and read Car and Driver, too, Chief,” Steve says, waving a hand toward Hopper.

“Watch it, kid,” Hopper says, slamming the magazine on his desk and stubbing out his cigarette, “What happened with the girl?”

“The girl?” Steve questions

“You went to see her, right?” Hopper asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Steve says, looking away.

Hopper’s jaw tightens as his eyes turn to slits under thick eyebrows.

“What do you want me to say?” Steve asks, crossing one leg over the other. “She wasn’t interested.”

“Let me get this straight. You went there?”

“Yup.”

“Knocked on her door?”

“Waited for her to get home half the day.”

“Then you told her you weren’t going with Nancy?”

“Well–“

“And that you’re in love with her.”

“Not exactly.”

“You are in love with her?”

“I–”

“What’s wrong with you, Harrington?” Hopper asks, gripping the edge of his desk, “Are you stupid or something?”

“Jesus, Hop,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you seen them out there?” Hopper’s uniform-covered elbow slams down on the desk as he points to the closed door, “I’m full up on stupid. Now,” he says, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, “I might have something for someone who’s got their shit together, but right now that aint you, Harrington. So, come back and talk to me when you do.”

“Hop, I–“

“I don’t want to hear it, Harrington. You might be able to do some real good someday, but right now, I’m busy. Important police business to take care of,” Hopper says, propping his feet back up on the desk and burying his face in the magazine.

Steve isn’t sure if it’s sentimentality or sheer curiosity that drew him here, but he did know as soon as he saw the stack of folded afghans being placed in a box at the shelter that this is where he’d end up. On first approach, the cottage doesn’t appear much different than the one in the Upside-down. The tiny home still remained obscured by tall sugar maples and eastern white pines. White curls of paint still clinging to the old timber walls next to sturdy black shutters. But the well-tended beds of colorful flowers that line the walkways and front of the cottage give it a more inviting feel.

His shoes scrape up the stone steps, where he stops to take a fortifying breath preparing to see the woman that used to haunt his bad dreams. His knuckles wrap against the door while flashes of himself cutting away vines play in his mind.

“Mrs. Willard,” he calls after hearing a series of loud coughs on the other side of the door.

“Just a minute. Just a minute,” Her voice gets closer as he hears the locks being worked before the door swings open, “Jesum crow, give an old lady a minute to get to the door.”

Anne Willard’s full height barely put her at the center of Steve’s chest. Her poof of white curls gave her an extra few inches, as well as the sensible black shoes that adorned her feet. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any,” she huffs, ready to slam the door.

“I’m not selling anything, ma’am,” Steve says, giving her one of his best smiles, “I’m Steve Harrington, a volunteer from the shelter over at the middle school. I don’t think anyone thanked you for donating all those blankets, so I wanted to stop by and ask if there was anything I could help you with around your property.”

“Help me?” She takes a step forward, her balled hands landing on her hips, head tipped up to look Steve in the eye, “Do you think I’m senile? Can’t take care of myself?”

“No, ma’am. I know you’re alone out here, and I thought I could be useful.”

“Humph. Well, I guess we’ll have just to wait and see about that,” she says, her clear blue eyes as sharp as a woman half her age, “You better come inside then.”

She turns on her heel, leaving the door open, and Steve with no choice but to follow her. His eyes roam the familiar space. She must not have changed a thing in her home since time stopped in the Upside-down. He feels like he’s lived a lifetime here instead of only a few days.

“Tea,” Mrs. Willard says, raising her finger as she starts down the hall leading to the kitchen. Steve follows her, ghosts echoing in his heart as he passes the closed door of the bedroom where he made love to you.

The kitchen is the same, with brighter sunlight pouring through the windows and backdoor. Fresh flowers stuffed in pitchers dot surfaces between the knit-covered crockery. The older woman stops in front of the butcher block countertop, pushing up on her toes to reach for two mugs from the open shelving.

“Let me do that, Mrs. Willard,” Steve says, reaching beside her and retrieving the mugs.

“Enough with the Missus stuff. Anyone who makes tea in my kitchen calls me Anne,” she says, shuffling to the table and sitting, “The kettle is right there on the–”

But Steve already has the kettle filling. The knited cozy folded neatly near the stove.

“Well, you certainly know your way around a kitchen,” she says, looking at him with a curious eye as he starts the kettle boiling and drops the teabags into the cups.

“I remember you,” she says when he turns and leans against the counter, “I know your mother. You used to run around town with your little gang like you were the Prince of Hawkins. So tell me, have you done any growing up since then?”

“I’d like to think so,” he says as the kettle starts to sing. He pulls it from the stove, pouring water into each mug, and brings both cups to the table.

“Now,” she says, folding her hands in her lap while waiting for the tea to steep, “Is there anything I need doin’? Let’s see, I had the gutters cleaned a few months back. I mow my own lawn and tend to the garden. Besides that, there’s not much else to do. My Jacob built this whole place himself, and it’s just as sturdy as the day we moved in.”

“You have a beautiful home, Anne,” he comments, trying out her first name. “You don’t see places built this solid.” The cottage was the only house they came across in the Upside-Down that was mainly untouched by the decay.

“He built it as a wedding gift. He knew I loved the lake. I just wish we had more years here together. So much wasted time.”

“How long were you married?”

“Forty-three wonderful years. Not enough,” she smiles sadly, sorting through her memories. “We got married at nineteen, but that was considered late at the time. We met when I was sixteen, and everyone knew Jacob was sweet on me right from the start. Walking me home, and bringing me flowers, but every time he asked to take me out, I turned him down flat. I thought he was too good for me. You see, Jacob was from a very well-to-do family. Things like that mattered so much more back then. I told him he shoulda been courting Ellen-Mae Sattler. Her family owned the quarry and half the town. It was no secret she had her sights set on him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Every time I sent him away, he’d just come right back.”

“How did he finally convince you,” Steve asks, completely wrapped up in her story.

“Well, one day he just showed up with a ring and said, ‘I love you, Annie, and if you turn me down, it’s not going to make one lick of difference cause I’m just gonna keep on loving you anyway.’ We got married three days later." Her lip quivers as her eyes turn glossy. "The Lord knows I miss that man every day. Suppose I’ll be joining him soon enough.”

“I know he’ll be waiting, Anne,” Steve says, covering her hand with his.

“Oh well, now I’ve gotten all weepy,” she says, picking up a napkin to dab at her eyes. “Now, what about you, young man? Do you got a girl out there that you love like that?”

“Yeah,” he says, a smile ghosting his lips, “I definitely do.”

A bright flash lights up your small living room, follows a round of thunder rattling the rain-streaked windows. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself as you sit on your worn couch with your knees pulled up, tucked under your oversized Perdue sweatshirt, you take deep soothing breaths. There have been storms since you’ve returned, but not like this. Not the kind that has the entire sky dark and purple with near-constant thunder. Not the kind with so much lighting, the hair on your arms stands up straight, and you can feel electricity buzzing in the air. It’s taken you right back there, and this time you’re alone.

With another loud boom, the lamp in the corner of the room cuts out, and the room falls into near darkness. “One-two-three,” you count, trying to keep your voice steady and breathing even. As suddenly as it turned off, the light flares on, and the display on your VCR flashes zeros. A deep sigh escapes your chest just as the door buzzer sounds.

Your muscles are stiff with tension as you stand up, moving towards the intercom, “Who is it?”

“It’s Steve.” The sound of his voice is barely audible over the pouring rain. One hand moves to your mouth while your thumb punches the button, unlocking the door. Here he is, saving you again.

Your fingers shake as you work the locks as quickly as you can, opening the door to him standing there half-drenched, hair dripping onto the collar of his soaked gray jacket, a wet crumpled bag in his right hand. He hasn’t taken a full step over the threshold when you are crushing yourself into his chest, your arms going around his middle. Stiffening, he swallows hard before dropping the bag, his arms wrapping tightly around you. He’s freezing but somehow still filling you with warmth.

“I’m sorry,” you say against his chest, “The storm.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, pulling you closer, letting his hands trail up and down your back, “you’re alright.”

The feel of his lips ghosting at your temple brings you back to awareness, and you step away from him, heat rising from your chest to your cheeks. “Sorry,” you say again, yanking on the cuffs of your sweatshirt, “You picked a good time to drop by,” you chuckle, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Yeah?” he laughs with you, “Would you mind if I come in then?”

“Ohmygod,” you cover your face with your hands, “Of course.”

Your eyes shift around your kitchen, trying to remember what you might have left out as he picks up his bag and follows you through your apartment into your living room. A small one-bedroom subsidized by the university, is a step up from the dorms you were lucky to get. The galley kitchen leads into the small living room, big enough for a sofa and a desk, that surface overflows with books and papers.

“Nice place,” he says, concern filling him as he watches you flinch with the next flash of lightning.

“Thanks.” You stand in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do now, watching as he unzips his wet jacket revealing a crisp Polo. He carefully folds it, trying to avoid tracking more water through your apartment, and looks around for somewhere he can put it down.

“Let me get you a towel,” you say, rushing from the room down the narrow hallway, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The wind picks up outside. The storm is right over you now. Branches of the tree outside your bedroom sway back and forth, scraping against your windows. The bi-fold doors of the overstuffed closet stick when you try to pull them open.

“Shit,” you cry when they won’t budge more than an inch.

“Everything okay?” Steve’s worried voice calls from the living room.

The lights flicker as quick snaps of lightning flash like a strobe while you tug harder on the handles. Thunderclaps roar loud enough to shake the entire building as the doors burst open with one last tug that sends you falling backward onto your butt as half your closet empties onto the floor.

“No,” you press your hands to your cheeks, overwhelmed as panic and frustration claw their way up inside you. Ignoring how your head swims, you move to your knees, chasing loose geodes scattered across the floor, when you feel his hands on your shoulders.

“Leave it for now,” he says, his warm hands covering your shaking ones as he helps you to your feet. “It’s not important. We’ll get it cleaned up in a minute.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod, trying to slow your breathing.

“It’s okay.” He cups your jaw, tipping your head back so you’re focused on him. The deep hazel of his eyes pulls you in. “Stay with me. I’ve got you, okay? It’s you and me.”

Your hands move to his chest, bunching the fabric into your fists, bringing him closer. Despite the questions that swirl lost somewhere in your mind, you can’t deny yourself the comfort he offers.

“I won’t leave you.” His chest tightens, hoping this is a promise he’s allowed to keep.

“Why aren’t you in Boston?” you ask as a tear spills over your lash line.

“Honey,” his eyes soften as his thumb strokes your cheek, “I was never going to Boston.”

As his arms move around you, bringing you close, you let out a breath that you feel you’ve been holding since you woke up in the hospital. One that has been keeping you from falling to pieces because now you can—he’s holding you together.

Without leaving the safety of his arms, you let him lead you to the couch. Your head finds a home on his chest, and you bring your legs up, curling into him. Something warm gets tucked around you. He holds you close as the storm rages outside, his heartbeat lulling you into calm. At some point, your eyes must have closed because the sound of light rain is the next thing you remember.

“It passed,” Steve says, tightening his hold on you when he feels you stirring, hoping he doesn’t have to let you go yet. Content to stay, you snuggle in deeper, tugging the afghan tighter around you both. The familiar softness of the downy yarn catches your attention.

“Wait, where did you get this?” you ask, sitting up, the scalloped edges running between your fingers, give way to a pattern of multicolored flowers.

“I went to the cottage. Mrs. Willard gave it to me, but I knew right away that it belonged with you.” His arm slides from your shoulder, traveling the length of your back.

“You went there?” An ache runs rampant through your chest. As the sensible voice inside you begs you not to let him climb through the cracks into your heart.

“I needed to see it,” he takes your hand, eager to keep the connection, “it was exactly the same. She hasn’t changed a thing. I asked if she needed any help, but as it turned out, the only thing she needed was someone to listen.”

"And what did she say?"

“She just talked,” he shrugs. “She told me about her husband and their life together. It made me realize how much time I’ve wasted,” he lifts his eyes to yours, “You were right, I know what I want. I want you. You’re the one I can’t live without.”

After all these weeks, the words you didn't dare dream of fall easily from his lips. Leaving what was left of your battered armor to shatter and fall away.

“I should never have left you in the hospital, and I should never have said goodbye. I should have fought for you like I did there. I know you don’t think we belong together, but you loved me. Is there any part of you that still does?”

“I never stopped.” The tears run down your face faster than you can wipe them away. “I can’t. I love you, Steve.”

His eyes light up at your confession. His lips pull tight into a smile as he leans forward, dipping his head, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“I love you,” you start again, choking on the words, “But there are things you don’t know about. Things that could change your mind.”

The secret you’ve been keeping is a band on your heart, constricting its beats. One that you know will change everything.

“Honey, whatever it is…I love you. We survived the world burning down around us. We can make it through anything.”

His hand moves to your neck, but you push him away, “No, Steve, you don’t understand,” you hiccup as the tears blur your vision. “I should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I promise,” His thumbs wipe away your tears, “Let me get you some water, and you can tell me.” He stands, leaving you for the kitchen while you try to find a way to tell him.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Steve would do the right thing, and that’s exactly why you couldn’t tell him. He would stay with you out of obligation, and one morning you’d wake up to resentment written all over his face as he trudges through the day instead of living out his dreams. You won’t take that from him. So you’ll tell him, and then you’ll let him go for the last time taking your heart with him. The cabinet bumping closed reminds you of what's pinned on your fridge.

“Steve, wait!” you scramble toward the kitchen, but you're too late. He turns the corner, his eyes lowered to the ultrasound photos he’s carrying in his hands.

You stand still, quiet sobs wracking your chest, like a chess piece on a board waiting to see if his next move will knock you down.

His eyes finally rise, full of hurt and shock. "You're having my baby."

You owe him so much more than the nod of your head, but the words stay lodged in your throat. The sound of soft rain hitting the windows fills the silence between you. He carefully sets the strip of scans on your desk, making sure they have their own spot like they’re something precious. He staggers toward you, moving slowly like he’s afraid to frighten you, his face still in a daze.

“I’m sorry,” you manage as he stops before you. He shakes his head from side to side, keeping his eyes lowered.

“You don’t have to…”

Your words trail off as he sinks to his knees. Placing a gentle hand on your belly, he leans forward until his forehead rests softly beside it.

“Hi,” he whispers, “I’m your dad.”

His fingers stroke feather light where his child is growing inside you. He’s never imagined anything more beautiful.

“You want us?” you ask in whispered tones, “Are you sure?”

“Honey, you’re giving me family. It’s all I have ever wanted.” His lips press softly against your belly.

Your breath leaves your lungs in a whoosh taking your fears with it. The love you feel for him—him and the part of him inside you, cracks open your heart until it’s filling every part of you with such a force you’re surprised you can’t see it glowing under your skin.

“Are they okay?” he asks, lifting his head, keeping his hand where it is, his eyes glossy as he looks up at you, “Is the baby okay? The Upside-down..”

“Yes,” you say, interrupting, not wanting him to worry for a second, “The baby’s fine. Developing normally. I had the ultrasound early, to be sure.” You cover his hand with yours, and he sighs in clear relief, his other hand grabbing your hip.

“You're my reason. Both of you,” he says, pulling you closer, “I’ve never been more sure.”

“You’re mine too,” you say, dropping to the floor to join him, your hand moving to his stubbled cheek, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore,” his hand cradles the back of your head, “I love you, and I’m going to take care of you if you’ll let me?”

“How about we take care of each other?”

His lips stretch into a smile before he leans forward, and they close over yours. "Deal," he agrees, going back for another kiss.

Your arms wind around his neck as he pulls you tightly against him. The plush of his lips working lazily around yours. Steve was right. He had held you like this while the world burned around you, expecting your last act to be loving each other. A love that is rare and true and written in the stars. A love that will survive the test of time. Time that neither one of you will take for granted. Living fully in each minute, watching your love grow into a family. You can feel all this in the press of his lips. The stories of your future are printed there.

"I love you," he says again because he wants you to know loving you was never a choice. His fingers move under the edge of your sweatshirt lighting trails of fire along your skin as his kiss changes from slow to hungry.

"Can I touch you?" He asks. Even though his hands are already on you, he wants your permission to go further.

"Please," you pant, already on the edge of being consumed with want, "I need you, Steve."

"I need you too, honey. Need to know you're mine." His hands lift the edge of your sweatshirt, and you raise your arms, helping him rid you of it. He barely glimpses what he's uncovered before you pull at his Polo, stretching the fabric in your greed to feel his skin against yours. He takes you back in his arms, and it feels like home. Your soft skin a contrast to the thatch of hair on his chest as you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own. The wet slide of his kiss only makes you want more. Want all of him.

Your whimpers drive his urgency as he lets you go to retrieve a pillow from the couch and carefully lays you back on it. His fingers grip the waistband of shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs.

"You look so pretty all laid out for me," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before sitting back on his heels, his big hand landing where your knees are pushed together, "but I want to see all of you."

Your fingers trace your kiss-bitten lips, feeling the ghost of his as your thighs fall open, revealing the glossy evidence of exactly what he does to you. His fingers run absently up and down your inner thigh as he looks his fill wearing the expression of a man about to take what's his.

"Steve," you whine, feeling impatient while your hands move to your breasts adding a graceful slow roll of your hips to remind him he can do more than just look.

"Fuck, honey. How did I ever stay away from you?" he asks, crawling over to place a kiss just above your belly button, the first in a slow trail ending at the top of your pussy. His hands wrap around your thighs, holding you open for his first slow lick up your center that sends your back arching off the floor.

“You taste so good. I’m already addicted,” he says, eyes catching yours before his mouth closes over you in a wet assault, tongue swirling through your folds, drawing circles around your clit.

“No one,” you gasp, clawing at the carpet while your hips fight against the press of his hands, “No one has ever made me feel this way.”

You can feel him smile against you as he slides two fingers inside your velvety heat moving in and out of you steadily, curling upward to brush against the spot that adds a new layer of euphoria radiating through you.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel like this,” he pauses to kiss the plush of your thigh. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he returns his attention back to your pleasure. He groans with your gentle tugs, the vibrations rippling against your core.

“Need to get you ready for me, honey,” he says, adding a third finger. Biting down on your lip, you hiss through your teeth at the slight sting of the stretch. He gives you time to adjust, waiting until your slick soaks his fingers.

His pace quickens, changing those quick jolts of lighting into a blur of rapture. Your walls tighten as your body tenses. Your chorus of desperate moans his new favorite tune.

"That's it, give it all to me. Cum for me, beautiful." His lips close over your clit, sucking in short bursts. Your blood sings with the new sensations rushing through you, turning molten as you rise like a fiery star.

Calling his name, you fall over the edge into bliss, the world ceasing to exist beyond your connection. He helps you float down with gentle touches and light kisses placed on your belly. He can’t fight back his smile as he looks down at you. A face that he memorized every detail of, now glowing with his love and his child. He didn’t have to die to become the man he wanted to be. He just had to open his heart.

When your eyes flutter open, he’s there, deep moss swirling with amber and gold filled with love. From the first moment you met, you placed your faith in him, and fate has led you to a love you never thought you’d find. After the uncertainty, the struggles, and the fears have fallen away, love is all that is left between you.

He’s chosen you, and you, him. Once in another world and again in this one. A life together that was fought for and hard-won. As the page turns, you’re no longer fearful of what's next, knowing you’ll be together. Whatever lies ahead, you’ll take his hand and welcome the adventure.

Epilogue

"And that's why you don’t take life for granite."

A chorus of groans erupts as the students gather their books and papers when the shrill bell sounds over the loudspeaker.

"Hey, I better start getting some more laughs out of you all, or I'll be forced to assign more homework," you call out over your shoulder as you erase the formulas you had written on the blackboard.

"Will we see you later, Mrs. Harrington?" says the ringleader of a group of four boys lingering around your desk.

"Sorry, guys. No AV club tonight," you tell them as you settle into the creaking chair behind your wooden desk, "I've got plans. Next week, alright?"

"I bet you're going to be busy getting set up to watch the Perseid meteor shower?" questions Travis, the overly enthusiastic one. With a mouth full of braces and a head full of curls, he reminds you of someone else you know.

"Something like that," you smile, thinking about your plans as you tidy the papers on your desk, adjusting the large geode next to your nameplate.

"Alright, see you tomorrow," they concede, shuffling out, their disappointment already forgotten by the time they make it to the door.

"See you tomorrow," you call after them as Tina, an 8th grader with hearts in her eyes, squeezes past them into the doorway.

"A policeman in the office is asking to see you, Mrs. Harrington."

"Thank you, Tina. Can you please tell him I'll meet him outside?" you can barely hide your smile, knowing exactly why he’s here.

"Sure," she says, leaning her head against the edge of the door frame, "He's really dreamy."

“Alright, Tina,” your eyes roll, “Get to where you're supposed to be.”

She’s quick to follow instruction as you finish preparing for your next class. Leaving your room, you walk through the quiet halls and across the empty gym, the sound of your heels clicking against polished floors. Pushing open the set of double doors at the far end, a warm hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you outside into the shade of the building and maneuvers you up against the hard brick wall.

“Mmm,” you whine as Steve pulls away the collar of your blouse and attaches his lips to the spot where your pulse is speeding up, “You're going to get me in trouble,” your voice already breathless, as your hands move to his head holding him there.

“I can’t help it,” he says, running his hands along your sides, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You’ve got me so distracted.”

“Is that so?” you ask as his lips brush over yours.

“That’s so.” His thumb tugs at your chin, coaxing you to open so he can take the kiss deeper. “I can’t even concentrate..” His words trail off as his mouth takes yours, kissing you like he did that very first time. Like you’re the only woman in the world. Like he adores you.

“Steve,” you mumble against his lip as your hands smooth up the front of the crisp tight-fitting blue button-up. Seeing him in uniform never fails to make you ache with need. The top two buttons are always undone, revealing the white shirt he wears underneath with just a glimpse of the hair on his chest showing and a shiny silver badge pinned just left of his heart. Your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck that he still wears too long to be regulation.

“What did the doctor say this morning?” He asks as one of his hands slides lower on your hip, down the side of your skirt, dipping just under the hem.

“He gave me the all clear,” you breathe out, pulling his mouth back to yours as his hand continues to climb until it finds the lacy edge of your stocking and the garter it’s attached to.

"Are you wearing lingerie?" His fingers get bolder seeking out more of the lace.

"It's new," you answer, grinding yourself against his hardening length, “I thought you deserved it. You’ve been taking such good care of everything since the baby.”

“Jesus, honey,” he groans, tipping his head back and slapping his hand against the rough wall of the building, “How am I going to wait until the kids are in bed?”

“You won’t have to. Hopper is picking up the boys after hockey, and Joyce already has the baby,” two of your fingers start walking down the front of his shirt, brushing against the leather of his belt, heading lower to the flat front of his tight black pants. “We’ll have the house to ourselves until tomorrow.”

“What about Fate?” He asks, his eyebrows pulling together, always the protector of his other favorite girl.

“She’s having a girl's night with El and Max.” you smile, knowing he would ask about your oldest. You set up this plan weeks ago. Waiting to be together after the birth of your babies is just as hard on you as it is on him.

“You’re sneaky.” His hand reaches around you to give your ass a little squeeze.

“You love it,” you admit pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he says as the bell rings again, projected through the speaker over your heads.

“I’ve got to go,” you swat his hand away so you can straighten your skirt.

“Not yet,” he pouts, using a finger to trace your neckline, pulling it away from your body, “Just let me have a little peek,” he tries looking down the front of your blouse.

“Get out of here,” you laugh, giving him a gentle push.

“Fine,” he grumbles with a smile, turning to walk back to where his cruiser is parked.

“Tonight,” you call, making him turn and look back at you.

“Tonight,” he says, raising the fingers of his left hand to his lips, the sun glinting off the gold band on his fourth finger, “and forever.”

The End

AN: Thank you so much for sticking with this little series. It challenged me in ways that I never expected, but I learned a lot writing it.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #if tomorrow never comes #steve harrington x fem #stranger things smut

213 notes · View notes

thereminzone · 13 days

Text

WOW!!! FINALLY FINISHED THIS ONE!!!

This work used a lot of textures! Wikimedia was my best friend, particularly for the macro shot of the wing scales used in the backdrop (H. Zell, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons) and the photo layered over the barcode (Michael Hanselmann, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons). I think it lends a really nice mixed media feel to this :D

These two are the other two members of THREAT DISPLAY!!!, the fake band for my dnd character Helvia. Rambling about them below the cut for context! Warning, it's long. And probably requires the context provided by the post I made about Helvia.

As is made probably blindingly obvious by this illustration, I continued the name of naming/loosely basing the design on a bug with a threat display, in this case being the peacock butterfly, Aglais Io! It's a really neat creature, being one of the only butterflies as far as I know to have a drastically different pattern when viewed dorsally versus ventrally

Obviously I pulled this pattern as directly as possible for Aegis's (left) jacket, but it's also on the inner lining of Vanessa's (right) overskirt. It's better visible in the earlier basic ref for them:

They look awfully similar.. and that's because they are twins! That's a lie, actually, but it's what the marketing of the band wants you to think. In reality, they are the same exact model of robot, meant to look human in comparison to Helvia, styled differently. They kind of have a complex about this, as would be expected if you were created and saw someone with your exact face who you are more or less put in competition with, and also told that neither of you really matter? It's a gimmick at best. They're not meant to be the real stars here, so it's easier if the public can just lump them together and let them fade into the background. I can't stress just how unimportant these two were considered in comparison to Helvia- they didn't appear in much marketing, and when they did, they were treated more like props. They weren't given unique identities, no fake memories unlike Helvia, just set into this situation with the expectation that they should know they are not important, they are not unique, and anything they do should be to further support Helvia.

Ultimately, though, they are very different people, especially in how they felt about this.

Aegis more or less resigned himself to this, he didn't see the point in trying to fight it or change the situation. He tried to not make anyone upset, stay neutral, do what was asked of him without thinking about it too hard. Sort of dissociating king? I think he internalized the fact that he's not "supposed to be a real person", and it influenced his behavior. He can acknowledge the horror of his situation, but doesn't find the point in fighting it.

Vanessa, meanwhile, finds none of it acceptable. She hates this. She hates the fact that she is a product and a tool and not even an important enough one to be given a basic sense of identity. Giving very "malicious compliance", she can't do much, but she took every opportunity to make it clear just how much she can't stand any of this. She felt that Aegis was a coward, especially because he would always be there to condescend to her, saying it's in her best interest to give up any time she got in serious trouble.

They, predictably, had a pretty rocky relationship because of this. Indirectly pitted against eachother for any amount of minimal spotlight that wasn't going to Helvia in hopes of being given any sort of grace, they also had no one else to rely on? Certainly not any staff, and CERTAINLY not Helvia, there's no one else that understood the unique horror of their situation quite so much as each other, even if they responded in wildly different ways. They had eachother's back, unspoken. Aegis telling Vanessa to 'just give up' is equally an attempt to prevent her from getting hurt further as Vanessa telling Aegis to 'stop letting this happen to you'– they just think that their respective poor coping mechanism is the way to go, when in reality it just means they each continue to be hurt. Dude these guys suck. As much as the twins marketing thing is a sore subject, in a sick way they end up actually having a sibling-adjacent relationship, I think.

As for their relationships with Helvia? Arguably more complicated.

It's a mess. Nobody is having a good time, except maybe Helvia telling herself she's having a good time. The closer they were to her, the better shot they had at actually being treated like they were interesting or important by marketing, and it created obviously an environment that was Not Good! They each had tumultuous on-and-off relationships with her as was directly encouraged of them, regardless of how anyone actually felt. It doesn't help that Helvia herself treated them carelessly, obviously told that they were there for Her– and as someone who wholesale bought into the image she was created for, who was in denial about the fact that she was literally a product, she wasn't exactly receptive to any of their struggles. Aegis pitied her despite their similarities, while Vanessa pretty much wanted her dead. It's bad. It's sooo bad. It's messy.

As for what they're up to now? No clue yet <3 they've yet to appear and I kind of already have terminal brain illnesses about them, if the above paragraphs didn't make it already obvious. Honestly this was just me making half decent art of them to post as in introduction to them before I drop the uh. 12 page comic I made in a fugue state during finals week. So keep a look out for that, I guess!

#digital art #digital illustration #art #illustration #ocs #my ocs #oc art #dnd oc #oc: aegis #oc: vanessa #oc: helvia #I've been living in my brain spinning them around for a while instead of doing anything productive #if that isn't obvious

41 notes · View notes

silverofthunder · 3 months

Text

☆ watcher in the night ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader

summary: You nodded slowly, trying to get all of this – the whole moment – to fully sink in while you studied the painted face of the man. His expression was soft, in a way, and he seemed curious, though you could also sense the danger underneath all of that.

content: 2.6k words, mystery (kind of), drama, fantasy, some feelings i guess, i don't even know, SFW (i think?)

!! mentions of blood and killing !!

So, I have no idea where this came from. I just started to write and it kind of escalated. This is different from what I've used to write but oh my, how fun writing this was! Let me know what you think. 😊

The cemetery wasn’t far from your home and one evening you decided on a whim to go there late at night. You took your bag and slipped a pen and a small notebook into it with a smile on your face – you never knew when the inspiration might strike so you had to be prepared. You zipped up your hoodie and grabbed the keys from the small dresser and checked that your phone was in your pocket before leaving your apartment.

It wasn’t that dark outside due to summer and the air felt more chilly than you thought but you didn’t bother to turn back to get a coat. You didn’t plan on staying at the cemetery for long, after all. There wasn’t much people on the move – you saw only a few teenagers hanging out nearby the cemetery as you finally reached the main gate.

You opened the gate, the creaking sound echoing in the quiet of the night. Your eyes took in the surroundings as fast as they could and as you walked along the main path, you started to feel a bit nervous and wonder if this had been a really bad idea. You remembered how it usually didn’t end up well when people visited cemeteries at night in the movies.

With a shake of your head you tried to get rid off those horrible images – it was silly to even think that something could happen. Or technically it wasn’t but you didn’t want to think the worst. Instead you focused on tombstones, their outlines and followed the path until you came to the spot where you could see one of the oldest graves, the big stone on top of a small mound.

You decided to head there and turned right, stepping on to the grass and following a line between two rows of tombstones. Then you took a turn to the left and passed a large tree, almost tripping to one of its roots that was sticking out from the ground. You hissed a curse as you regained your balance, breathed slowly in and out before continuing walking. As you finally reached the grave, you lowered your bag onto the ground and placed your hands on the stone.

It was cold and there was some kind of pattern on top of it as you run your fingers along the surface. Whoever was buried there must have been well-known and notable person.

A sudden rustle made you jump and you turned around, your heart picking up pace in your chest. You couldn’t see anyone and soon there was a sound of flapping and croak, so you suspected it to be some bird flying away. Sighing you returned to your bag and sat down on the grass, leaning your back against the tombstone. You searched for the notebook and pen and took your phone out of your pocket, putting the flashlight on and setting the phone leaning against the tombstone. Then you let your mind wander for a while.

The quietness was a bit unsettling and the chilliness was slowly getting into you, making you regret not getting that coat before coming here. You did your best to focus on the surroundings, the scent of summer night and let your hand guide the words out of your mind, ink them onto the page of notebook.

It wasn’t a story, just some random thoughts about creatures of the night. The one’s who lived in the shadows, had sharp fangs and carried a mysterious aura around them. You weren’t sure if you actually believed the existence of those creatures but it was certainly intriguing thought. A small smile made its way on to your lips as you wrote more words down.

Soon something flew past you fast and you shrieked, dropping your pen and notebook to the ground. Your head turned fast from side to side as you tried to see what it had been. As you couldn’t see anything this time either, you shook your head and picked the pen and notebook up, mumbling some calming mantra to yourself.

You opened the notebook and saw the inkline speading from one word all the way down to the bottom of the page. It called you to doodle something onto it before you turned the next, plank page and continued writing. You could feel your heart beating just a bit faster than it normally would – you couldn’t help it, the sudden noices in the quiet had gotten you nervous and you were kind of waiting for something to happen again.

When the chilliness was getting so uncomfortable, fingers feeling stiff from holding the pen, you decided it was time to leave. You put the notebook and pen into the bag, took your phone, slipping it into your pocket and hoisted yourself up, smoothing out your hoodie and jeans. And just as you were ready to leave, your eyes landed on some figure standing beside the tree on the right. You blinked, hoping it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but the figure was still there.

Your heart missed a beat and you swallowed, staring at the figure. Then it moved closer to you and you could see it was a man.

”Isn’t it a bit late to be out here?” he spoke with a soft, deep voice, taking slow steps towards you. His features came more clear – his other eye was white, face covered with some kind of paint. He was wearing ripped jeans and a shirt that looked like something that was worn centuries ago. You took a step back as he got closer, eyeing to the side and considering just running away.

He stopped moving, eyes scanning you and you just stood there, nervousness stinging within you.

”Who are you?” the words slipped out before you even realized you had opened your mouth.

The man’s lips curved into a smile, flashing something white and sharp, and now you really were sure your mind was just messing with you. You blinked and pinched your arm but the man was still there, and so was the smile on his lips, too. Nothing sharp visible this time, though, and you sighed, but it didn’t really settle your racing heart.

”Just having my night walk,” the man said and you raised your brow.

”On a walk at the cemetery?” you stated and the man chuckled.

”Sí,” he said in another language – Italian maybe? – and took a step closer to you. ”Seems like you were having your own moment here, too.”

You eyed him suspiciously, watching his movements like a hawk. He didn’t look threatening but you still couldn’t be sure… And just like he was reading your thoughts, he raised his hands up a little as if to show he didn’t have any indication of hurting you. Still, it didn’t ease your suspicions much but some part of your mind held a thought that he would have probably hurt you already if he wanted to do that.

”I was just leaving…” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. The man didn’t move or say anything so you just turned and started to walk away. You had to take a look at where the man was left standing after a moment and couldn’t see him anymore. Just as you were about to sigh from relief, you turned your gaze back to forward and stumbled back as the man was now right in front of you.

He grabbed a hold of your arm.

”Careful,” he spoke as you stared at him with wide eyes. His white eye glowed in the dark, the other seeming to slowly change color if you saw correctly. It was dark after all, so you couldn’t fully trust your vision. He seemed to breath slowly in through his nose while a small smirk made its way onto his lips. For a moment his fingers tightened around your arm, you could feel his nails digging into your flesh and it felt way too sharp to be normal. Your heart was beating in your chest rapidly and you pulled your hand away from the man’s hold.

The man shook his head a bit after the contact was lost and let out a small laugh and now you could see the white, sharp fangs clearly. You swallowed, thoughts starting to race in your head.

”What are you?”

It was barely a whisper but you knew the man had heard it. He stepped closer and you were sure now it was time to flee and you tried to take a step back but something stopped you. There was a slight swish of wind and for a moment your felt a bit dizzy and then you felt the man’s hand under your chin as he leaned closer.

You couldn’t be sure if your heart had missed two beats instead of just one but now you were completely frozen. You could move your legs so you probably could leave but for some reason you didn’t… want to.

”I’m sure you already have the answer in your mind,” the man answered finally, voice smooth like a velvet. It seemed to resonate everywhere, making you feel so… strange. It was really hard to describe – it felt like it reached somewhere deep within you and calmed you down somehow.

”The creatures like that don’t exist,” you said.

”That’s what your mind is trying to tell you,” the man said, moving his hand slightly and starting to trace along your cheek with his sharp fingernail, strangely gentle. ”Hate to disappoint but the creatures you’re thinking about are real and I’m one of them.”

He showed his fangs and his non-white eye changed to glow red. It certainly looked real, felt real but also a bit of dream-like. Like two worlds mixing, the lines of reality and fantasy blurred.

”You’ve surely used some… unholy mojo on me,” you stated and the man chuckled.

”Only a little,” he admitted, gently tapping your lips with his finger. ”To make you feel more calm. If you want to go, you can, I’m not stopping you.”

Blinking, you considered what to do. As time passed and you didn’t move, a pleased smile rose to the man’s lips and his finger traveled down to your neck.

”You’re not… going to hurt me?” you asked, hesitant. You had to.

”I could… if I wanted and you could not do anything,” he said straightforwardly. ”But no, I’m not going to hurt you. So don’t worry, you’re not gonna be my meal – unless you want to.”

You nodded slowly, trying to get all of this – the whole moment – to fully sink in while you studied the painted face of the man. His expression was soft, in a way, and he seemed curious, though you could also sense the danger underneath all of that. It was easy to imagine how the predator in him could just take and destroy you, drain the life out of you. But at the same time tthere was this temptation – how it would feel like if the fangs pierced your skin and the blood would rush out of you, feeding him.

You snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the man’s face now being much closer to you.

”Sorry,” he said then, pulling a bit back and you felt some strange energy around you. ”It seems that you are too acceptive of ’my unholy mojo’. And your scent…”

The man didn’t finish his sentence and he really didn’t have to as your thoughts could fill in the rest. You were more surprised by the fact that you seemed to do something to him, too, even though it felt like you weren’t doing anything.

”The thought is intriguing, isn’t it?” the man then asked, flashing his fangs again, and you understood what he meant. You knew you could just lie but you also were pretty sure that the man would know if you were lying so you had no choice but to speak the truth.

”Yeah, it is.”

With his finger the man traced some pattern on your neck, making you shiver. You knew he could feel your pulse while you could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. The air around you changed, the dizziness reaching you and causing you to sway a little and soon you felt hands on your sides, steadying you. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your eyes focused but the intensity of the strange feeling only grew and your eyes fell closed, your hands grabbing the man’s arms.

”Damn,” you heard the man speaking. ”You’re not making this easy. I swear I’m not using my powers that much.”

He sounded surprised and his hold on your sides tightened. You drew in a deep breath before opening your eyes and you were hit by the blurry red-white glow of the man’s eyes. The darkness seemed only to highlight it and your slightly hazy mind thought it looked kind of beautiful.

”Oh shit,” you breathed out in awe.

”It’s so addicting,” the man said. ”Easy to get lost in it and lose your self control.”

His words aroused your curiosity.

”Have you ever lost control?”

The man’s expression changed and he lowered his gaze, his hands leaving your sides and causing the spell to break. You blinked, feeling more grounded again.

”Sí, many times,” he answered quietly and your mind instantly filled with images of faceless people lying dead on the ground, their bodies smeared with blood.

”Are you… afraid that you will lose it again?”

You weren’t sure where the questions came from but the whole situation seemed already so weird you doubted it couldn’t get any more weird.

”Not really. I learned my lesson a long time ago.”

The man’s gaze found yours again and you could only nod as you really had no idea what to say to that. For a moment you considered to reach out to touch him but then decided not to. It seemed that the closer you were, the more it affected to the both of you. The man was right, the feeling was addicting – weird, too, but definitely something you wanted to feel again and again.

And it was like the man had read your mind, his hand reached for yours and as soon as your fingers entwined, you felt the wave of warmth coursing through you. The dizziness hit afterwards but only lasted for a short moment. You had never in your life tried any drugs but you guessed that being under their influence would feel close to this.

”This feels so strong,” the man said, turning your joined hands. ”Reminds me of the time when…” he trailed off, shaking his head. ”It’s not important now.”

You were a bit of disappointed that he didn’t tell more but maybe it was a story for another time. If there woud be another time.

”I should probably leave…” you said and the man gave a you small nod. You really didn’t want to leave but it was night and you needed some sleep. The man squeezed your hand before letting go, the warmth slowly leaving you and the chilliness of the night biting into you.

You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your hoodie and slowly turned to leave. Every step that you took away from the man felt heavy and eventually you stopped, turning back to him.

”Will I see you again?”

”Maybe,” the man answered and even though you could only see the silhouette of him, somehow you knew he was smiling.

”What’s your name?”

”You can call me Copia.”

Copia.

You rolled the name in your mind for a moment and with a smile on your lips, you turned to head home. And as soon as you got home, you changed your pajamas on and went to bed, welcoming the much needed sleep.

The rest of that night your dreams were occupied by a pair of red-white eyes, fangs and painted face.

#copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

44 notes · View notes

corvidpaws · 2 months

Text

🪻🦋 GENESIS. 🔮📋

kirby oc tournament entry.

“Lucky is she, who lives unaware, who doesn’t get bothered by all that’s unfair…”

PERSONALITY.

Genesis is a kind, caring figure haunted by a past only they remember- and it doesn’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things, anyway. They have taken on the role of a therapist, and their personality generally fits the stereotypical view of a therapist. Of course, they aren’t without their flaws- often trying too hard to reach a goal or blaming everything on themselves.

BACKSTORY.

Genesis is from the Forgotten Land. Or, as the residents prefer to call it, the New World.

Their origins are mostly hidden. I mean, you don’t really want to tell people that- well. I’m not going to tell you their secrets. That’s just rude. They’ll tell you when they’re ready.

Hopefully.

All I can tell you is that they have a strange connection to Fecto Forgo.

Oh, well, I’ll tell you a bit more.

Let’s see… I’m sure it was written down somewhere around here.

“Since it’s capture, ID-F85 has only shown activity once- it’s brain patterns seem to suggest that it is dreaming. But that is a fanciful observation, and we are not fanciful people. A monster cannot dream.” — Retired Lab Discovera Tour, Year Unknown

The creature known as Fecto Elfilis had split into two- Fecto Forgo and Elfilin. The Ancients had long abandoned the planet, taking off to Shiver Star. Imprisoned, alone, unable to move and lost in a world without any creatures capable of thought- yet, they drifted. They dreamed. And in their dreams surfaced memories.

A land of dust and fire. A trickster magician.

A world of flora. A sorrowful spindler.

And their own great form, lost to the cruel experiments of the people who lived here, so desperate to leave.

From those dreams, came Genesis. A creation of stardust and love. They wandered throughout the abandoned land, watching as the beasts gained intelligence, and talking with them. When trapped in a collapsing tunnel, they met Elfilin, who saved them. The two then became friends.

They also met Gamma Knight, who landed in the forgotten land after [REDACTED]. Genesis helped them flee to [REDACTED].

When the Beast Pack was formed, Genesis stayed out of the way, recognising the work of their progenitor. But when Elfilin was captured, they followed Kirby from a distance, leaving behind Maxim Tomatoes and vanishing without a trace.

When Elfilis was defeated, Elfilin and Genesis reunited, and the former took the latter to Dreamland, where they both settled.

And they decided to settle on a rather successful career.

It had been a solid five hours since Kirby had started telling Genesis about the 'monsters' they'd fought, with Dedede and Meta Knight himself chipping in when needed; sometimes to explain their actions while the puffball had been defeating the newest threat to Popstar, sometimes to correct him or add a detail. But instead of getting frustrated or tired, Genesis had only listened politely, nodding as they talked. […] "Those monsters you fought... I'd be terrified, honestly. But you've survived all of it, and you're still here, ready to face the next battle, and that means you're exceptionally resilient. But life isn't all about battles." Genesis continued. "It's pretty late, so I'll end the session here, but think about it. Come back if you need to." — Chapter Two, Session One, These Creatures I’ve Seen

Well, that wasn’t a bit more, that was a lot more. But there are still some mysteries. Will you uncover them? Let’s find out.

OTHER.

Themes:

The Dream Discoveries Tour Juliet - Cavetown Blow My Brains Out - Tikkle Me Gilded Lily - Cults Meteor Shower - Cavetown Treehouse - Alex G

Toyhou.se Page: https://toyhou.se/22030569.genesis Ginjka Design: Here

“Unlucky me, who knows way too much, and fights to make changes through music and such, unlucky me, aware of the pain, all ‘cause I happen to have some brain…”

@kirbyoctournament sorry about the lore dump! It will happen again

#genesis #kirby #kirby oc #kirby oc tournament #lore #oc lore #kirby oc lore #kirby and the forgotten land spoilers #for the banners lol #so excited for this!! did a poll in a discord server and the result was a resounding yes #so here i am #let’s see how this goes

36 notes · View notes

palfriendpatine66 · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - Nanny Au

Read under the cut for a snippet from the barely started Nanny Au,(second place in last week’s lesser known wips poll) as I continue to try to get back into the writing groove and eventually return to my active wips awaiting updates

“So I’m wondering if you and your husband could let me know more about what you’re looking for out of—”

“Ex-husband,” Padmé interrupted with a light smile to show there were no hard feelings. “Recently divorced.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan outwardly cringed at his faux paux. “I’m so sorry-”

“Yeah me too,” Anakin muttered darkly.

“Ani!”

“Well I am,” Anakin shrugged and flashed a not very apologetic smile. “Things would be a lot easier if —you know what? Never mind,” he wisely cut himself off as brown eyes flashed a hard warning his way.

“Scheduling can be delicate,” Padmé offered diplomatically as she addressed Obi-Wan once more. “We both work demanding jobs with long hours.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan agreed quickly, just as Anakin scowled and was about to interject once more. “What might that schedule look like, in terms of the position?”

Padmé clearly appreciated the redirection to the task at hand. “You will have weekends off: I will have the children from Friday to Monday mornings.”

“My hours are erratic,” Anakin added. “My commitments vary, and I do a lot of work remotely.”

“But we,” Padmé began, and it was very clear that in this instance we referred to herself only, “think it best to maintain a consistent routine regardless. We ask that you establish a consistent Monday-Thursday schedule, and keep a routine with the children whether Anakin is home or not.”

“I am not going to ignore my kids,” Anakin insisted as though defending against an accusation, leaning forward in his chair to glare at Obi-Wan while he gripped the table.

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan soothed. “Routines are important. They provide a sense of stability.” He could hardly argue otherwise, creature of habit that he was.

“Exactly,” Padmé approved. But not everyone felt the same.

“Do you think my children don’t feel safe?” The arctic tone emanating from the stone faced father sent a shiver down Obi-WAN’s spine. “You think they’re insecure because apparently wanting stability isn’t a good enough reason to stay married—"

“No, of course—”

“Anakin, this is hardly the time,” Padmé chastised firmly.

“No, actually, this is exactly the time. If he’s going to spend as much time with my children as me, their father, it seems pretty important to understand his view on this one. Wouldn’t you say?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat before they traded any further remarks, two pairs of glinting daggers turning to meet his own steady gaze. “What I meant was that having a consistent daily routine with predictable caregivers is important at this stage in their development. If they know what to expect they can spend their energy deciphering other patterns and exploring the world around them,” he easily called to mind a conclusion from one of the texts he’d spent reading and rereading as he transformed it from a dry conglomeration of research into something more engaging. “Learning,” he clarified, ignoring Anakin’s lip as it curled into a sneer and offering the middle ground between both parents his most charming smile.

The father’s face smoothed out once more, and the mother beamed. “Fantastic. Let’s talk logistics,” Padmé continued on with unshakable determination.

#in reality Obi-Wan should walk away from this interview and turn down the offer #but not to worry. this isn’t reality. this is fanfic #and it will all work out wonderfully despite first impressions #wip wednesday #nanny au #my wips

28 notes · View notes

that-foul-legacy-lover · 2 months

Note

hi! i just want to say i love your work, they're very nice to read after a long day, like a sort of hug from the moth man himself!

i was hoping to ask if you've written a scenario with anything related to catnip? mothnip?

I'm not too sure about Abyssal fauna or maybe it could just be natural occuring Teyvat plants - but what do you think would happen if reader happens to find a pretty plant and hours later find FL smothering himself in it?

Just a thought sidjfksks i really like the things you come up with using the prompts other requests give you👉👈

mothman would give you SO many hugs anon!!! i think i've done maybe one thing with catnip so i'm very glad to revisit it ehehe

even better if you happen to come across an entire field of the flowers, little violet and azure blossoms in full bloom, tucked away in a valley between distant mountains. you and Foul Legacy were traveling, trying to map the corners and intersections of nations that people usually hurry past and ignore when you come across the valley, a few petals drifting in the breeze. they have a strong, slightly minty scent, and when you kneel to get a closer look at the flowers you spot faint star patterns near the tips of each petal. you're drawing a small sketch of a flower when you hear a soft thump, glancing up to see Foul Legacy, your intimidating and battle-hungry Abyss monster, rolling around in the plants and letting out rumbly chitters and coos. he perks up when he glimpses you, leaping over and bumping his head against your back hard enough to make you fall into the flowers before he flops down beside you, practically vibrating from how much he's purring

it's like catnip, you discover, only for Abyssal creatures. you leave Legacy for a few minutes after making him promise to stay where he was- not that he was going to go anywhere, with how he was nestling into the field- to go explore a little, and end up finding several Abyss Mages and a couple Lectors also slumped over in the flowers. it's almost a little worrying, until you glimpse an Abyss Mage carefully right itself and totter away, clearly done with the flowers for now. sure enough, there's a nudge against your shoulder a few minutes later, Foul Legacy blinking sleepily at you and purring, still slightly dazed but much more put together. you snip a few of the blossoms before you leave, pressing them into your notebook- you'll dry them when you get home, for when Legacy deserves a little treat

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #honestly i love the idea of foul legacy and a traveler (not THE traveler) wandering teyvat together #they get to explore and discover different things #they're always on the move too so foul legacy doesn't attract a ton of attention #they draw maps together and document plants and animals they find #it'd be so fun!#short scenario #other's stuff #good evening #chit chat #anon

23 notes · View notes

szollibisz · 5 months

Note

i recently imagined Owen (without his knowledge) being immortal a la Old Guard/Jack Harkness etc. how do you think Everything that's Wrong with him would be affected once he wakes after having been shot in the head by Curt? like sure, realising that Curt's love for him wasn't enough for Curt to stay or look for him is one thing. but him realising that Curt is fully capable of killing him while he thought himself the Joker to Curt's Batman, not to mention his eternal hesitation to kill Curt... that would destroy him on an entirely new level, i think.

oh absolutely, there's one thing in the world that could make him worse and it's that. it would be unrecoverable

i think he'd be completely just like. broken for a while trying to process everything, and then he'd go back to his normal regular misery x100

I imagine him as a character who looks at himself more like a means to an end than a person. That's why spying and then chimera were so important to him. His only purpose is to work for a greater goal, because he can and others can't (in both like a god complex and a dog way. if that makes sense) so in my interpretation of his character and curtwen the breaking of that pattern is what's so fascinating. Instead of having a greater goal for owen to completely dedicate his life to, it's suddenly a person.

He developed this deep, all-consuming love for curt, and honestly believed curt felt at least similar. When in reality curt was codependent on owen yes, but he generally felt a normal human amount of love, that is again, relatively normal. (Which is what owen realized after the fall.) Still, this was the time in his life when owen felt the most human. People aren't like long term goals such as "saving the world" they constantly give back in small ways, and ground you, and after all we are social creatures who need connection. But unlike ambitions, people can disappoint you in completely new ways every day.

So after the fall, owen's only option was to go back to normal. Find his ambition and give himself over to the greater goal. But in all that time he couldn't quite get rid of curt, or his remaining feelings for him whether that's hate or love. So owen, after finally feeling happy and like his feelings were reciprocated by someone for the first time, got everything taken away from him and had to rebuild from scratch. cue being way more miserable than in the pre-curt era.

This is probably the cycle that would repeat again. Owen thinks curt loves him more than he actually does -> owen is let down by curt -> owen stops looking for happiness altogether and goes back to being a tool for a better future -> miserable because he gave up on happiness

Like obviously if we mean immortal immortal, that's probably something that owen would thrive in, in the long run. i'm talking world's most productive vampire. knows all languages, connections everywhere, definitely off the hinges. But for the time after curt shoots him yeah. probably in a mood where he kills people for breathing too loud, but internally (and sometimes externally) cries himself to sleep every night

ok jesus this was so long i'm sorry. i just have a lot of thought about this guy

#not even rereading everything i wrote #go be free brainworm #spies are forever #tin can bros #saf #owen carvour #agent curt mega #tcb #curtwen #szol's spy rambles #ask box moment

53 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 8 months

Note

Oooo to revel in joy at your take on House Pet AU!Rollo ~I cannot begin to say how much I love it when people delve a bit more into his hatred for magic/magic-relayed things!!

That is to say, regardless of AUs, how would you view his possible infatuation with the prefect? I always viewed it as plaguing as Esmeralda's presence if it is to relate it to Glorious Masquerade event: haunting to be more precise, the smoke of the fireplace dances in his tired vision to emulate their walk and dance, the light of the candle trembles and flickers like their gaze when they tried to take in the view of City of Flowers for the first time and whenever he hears a gleeful laugh lost in a crowd he almost wants to run to them and greet them, before remembering . . .

Ah, they are not here. They are forever lost across a sea on a stranded island. In that gilded cage of magic and wonder.

That's just how I view it!! What do you think of it?

-🪞

Hmmm let's see let's seeeee, I actually might have it where the relationship the Caretaker has with Rollo is a bit different depending if it's the Sanctuary AU or the House Pet AU.

Also, man I love it when any of you come and ramble in my inbox. I love people rambling at me. Please, don't hesitate to do so, it makes me so happy.

House Pet AU, being as lighthearted as it is, it's mostly just hi-jinks. Caretaker goes with Mozus to check out the college and the city as a potential move-in target and their pets were supposed to stay behind and be cared for by the others, buuuuuuut...

Yeah, the house pets somehow managed to follow and the Caretaker's phone was dead so any and all messages and calls just don't go through.

The bell ends up ringing and spreading its magic, and the house pets, being magical creatures themselves, end up mystified by the bell and just rush up to it to get as close to the magical source as possible.

So one can imagine why Rollo was having a near meltdown when he goes up there to see the bell sullied and a fuckton of pets drunk out of their minds on the magic the bell produces. It was a party up there.

Safe to say, Caretaker looks up and sees bursts of magic that is suspiciously familiar to their own pets magic casting patterns and just rushes in. Caretaker, being the Caretaker, manages to corral the pets together in record time and Rollo has never been more thankful. He would've been more angry, and kind of is honestly, but that command the Caretaker held over these wretched magical creatures caught his attention. Much like the bell, the Caretaker can order the little pets to start or stop their magic with just a word or a snap of the fingers.

So, in a hilarious fashion, Rollo has to grit his teeth and tolerate these energetic and troublesome pets because he wants to get along with the Caretaker.

Now the Sanctuary AU, Rollo gets a little... weirder, as one would expect. He's almost... eager, in a way, to reestablish the connection he lost with the Caretaker, like he's trying to find or coax out a kindred spirit in them.

It's a "distance makes the heart grow fonder," or more fixated in this case because the Caretaker has experienced a horrid tragedy at the hands of magic users. But then the Caretaker basically vanishes after news of the fire and kidnapping reach his ears and while he didn't rush to try and get in contact them, the fact that nothing he's doing is reaching them is causes this fixation to continue to grow. It's on the cusp of an obsession.

And the thing is, you can't really blame him for being like this, the Caretaker was so focused on getting their pets back that they basically let any other connection go cold beyond the most immediate people that are assisting in the search.

And, eventually, Rollo goes to the Caretaker's neighborhood, to the site where everything started, to the charred remains of their house.

The fire, Rollo can imagine it so clearly. Replays it as though a horrid, tragic record.

I think that would probably be the catalyst of Rollo going from unnerving to downright creepy.

#admin #house pet au #rollo flamme #rollo

45 notes · View notes

bambi-kinos · 1 year

Text

excerpts from the McLennon server (hamburg part 1)

This is Part One of an ongoing conversation in the McLennon server about John and Paul in Hamburg. Part Two is here: https://www.tumblr.com/bambi-kinos/718388247258136576/excerpts-from-the-mclennon-server-hamburg-part-2

In Part One of the Hamburg Conversation, we discuss why John and Paul ended up being so close after their stint in Hamburg during 1960, since this was the period where the Exis ostracized Paul and John and Stuart were up each other’s asses a lot.

***

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:10 PM alright beatle babes big fucking thunks time

1960 kinda sucked for Paul, Hamburg was the big thing and John was busy hanging out with Stuart and the Exis and was super teenagery about it. Paul felt abandoned and was super teenagery about it. There were a lot of sex workers, beer, and amphetamine pills going around. Gangsters roamed about, mostly not giving a shit about the Beatles tbh. They re-discovered girls. Paul gets deported.

Then we hit 1961 and this is happening: https://twitter.com/BeatlesArchive2/status/1630289665323589632?s=20

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:19 PM Stuart stayed with Astrid and John seemed to be okay with this whereas he went to extreme lengths to separate Paul from his dad upon returning to Liverpool (which was a good thing), Paris happened, Stuart and Paul had a fistfight on stage where John de facto chose Paul by not disciplining him over the fight. What changed

Personally I think Hamburg changed how John viewed Paul. He got to see Paul in an adult context for the first time. I legit don't think John saw Paul as anything other than another friend -- that's not because of Rule 10, that's something I really believe. John simply didn't take Paul seriously until they got to Hamburg. They were friends and they had a tight bond thanks to Mary/Julia's passing, I don't doubt for a second that their friendship was already very close. John knew Paul was attractive but I don't think he fully put together what that meant until later. Hamburg slowly transmuted that into something else for John, he saw Paul in a brand new context and watched him flourish into a young adult away from the childhood context of Liverpool. And that lead him somewhere else.

Stuart didn't have prospects in Liverpool, his application to be a TA had already been rejected so he was ready to move on. John was able to respect that and let Stu go....because he figured out what he wanted. So he pursued Paul and very heavily too.

louiselux — 02/27/2023 4:33 PM Paul said that they felt somehow they were headed for big things, but i wonder when that feeling coalesced for them? Maybe beyond all the teen psychodrama, the side effect of Hamburg was getting technically good for the first time, and that’s when that feeling happened, like a mutual sense growing of ‘this man can take me places’

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:34 PM ohhh i like this

louiselux — 02/27/2023 4:38 PM You know, them getting to know all these other bands and maybe realising that Lennon/McCartney together was a different better creature

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:40 PM Especially since they were experimenting with the songwriting at that point. Not a whole lot but they were doing it, that was a way for them to distinguish themselves from the other bands. They were trying to find their niche and the Lennon/McCartney thing started clicking into place.

louiselux — 02/27/2023 4:41 PM Also very much YES to your point about Paul becoming a hot adult man rather than cute boy baby

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:42 PM So you take the hypercharged atmosphere of Hamburg, put that with them starting to push themselves creatively and not just do cover songs....

louiselux — 02/27/2023 4:42 PM And Paul growing shoulders and forearm hair

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 4:47 PM Maybe they also set their flirting pattern in Hamburg -- John being an ass, Paul being cold in response to get John's attention, making each other jealous on purpose etc. Even if they didn't realize what they were doing in the moment.

I'm fascinated at how much of a slow motion thing it all was, this attraction between them. It wasn't sudden, it was a long burning thing. They spent that first trip getting with women, boozing, going pro, there's the psychodrama going on in the background and John's very intense no matter what.... And when it all finally ended John sought out Paul in Liverpool....

louiselux — 02/27/2023 5:09 PM It's clear that they excited each other in various ways ever since they first met, but it seems like it did take a while to click into place. With Stu, I really get the sense that John had met someone he thought of as his equal at that time, in adulthood and sensibilities, and that he didn't consider Paul an equal in that way. So maybe that is the thing we are tracking here, the realisation that Paul is like...The One? Over those Hamburg years

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 5:19 PM yeah! I think that's it exactly :ogeyes: Stuart was loved and lovable to John but Paul had a special impact

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 6:53 PM John had his blinders on to everything but success as a musician - he'd failed out of art school and couldn't hold down a regular job, so he made music his life

Before Hamburg Paul had prospects to continue in school and go to university, and he was still living at home and listening to his father (where John had stopped caring what Mimi said and may have moved out into the flat on Gambier Terrace by this point

In Hamburg, Paul starves and stinks and plays 6-8 hours a night, just like John, putting his all into the group and mach schau and living in squalor for the music

Where Stu was never that enthusiastic about the group, John had to convince him to buy an instrument and join, and when he met Astrid it was a done deal

So John can let go of someone who's already letting go of him because it's obvious what's happening and Stu is going to be happier an an artist, and they're good enough friends to accept this

But he looks at Paul, who's working just as hard as he is to make the Beatles a success, and something clicks for him

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 7:14 PM something clicks for him...

Morrigan — 02/27/2023 9:18 PM I, too, find this time fascinating. I agree that while he was drawn to him and attracted to him (maybe even subconsciously), John didn’t see Paul as an equal adult quote yet. Two years difference can feel quite big at that age. But then I also find it fascinating that John said they were both horrible to Stu in Hamburg. I wouldn’t put it past John to have played them against each other, especially after Stu got with Astrid

Misery — 02/27/2023 9:27 PM Trying to see which one of them would stick it out through his behaviour maybe

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 9:32 PM Always hiding his soft mushy center under a hard layer of nasty humor and bad behavior

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 9:32 PM John absolutely played them off each other. He was a jerk to both of them in Hamburg and would team up with the other one, peak frat bro honestly.

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 9:32 PM King John sits on his throne and says "which one of you loves me more?"

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 9:33 PM 😂 but also 😭

Misery — 02/27/2023 9:33 PM Mhm mhm mhm

This exactly

VeggieRavioli — 02/27/2023 9:37 PM Tony Sheridan quote RE: J&P in Hamburg that’s relevant here

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 9:39 PM They were like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle: they needed each other and fitted together.

pain

It was very menacing for me to hear the Liverpool accent when it was aggressive, especially when it was John. He was so caustic, and though he never scared me he could cut you down with a couple of words and a glance, and did. We got on OK because he had a bit of respect for me - I'd been on the telly - but we never got close. He was full of complexes, and to compensate for that he had a big ego. He was the intellectual and extrovert driving force, the natural leader. Paul was very talented, a frisky kind of guy, completely extrovert. His whole life was the show.

interesting that he characterizes both of them as extroverted

VeggieRavioli — 02/27/2023 9:49 PM there's another quote in my head that I can't find, about how the interplay between John and Paul was the epicenter of the Beatles' mach shau-ing in Hamburg

Hamburg is where they truly tapped into their onstage chemistry. They might not have been songwriting during this time - too exhausted and overworked for that obv - but it's where they realized how their partnership could electrify an entire room, not just their music and their singing

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 9:52 PM Lesley-Ann Jones, The Search for John Lennon, on John's motivations for having Stu in the band - she's harsher on him than I would be but I can't say she's completely wrong

But John can't needle and bitch about Paul's musicianship to make himself feel better because Paul is just as good and maybe ever more talented than John, so he stops complaining where Paul is concerned and starts thinking about what they can accomplish together

Morrigan — 02/27/2023 9:54 PM It’s truly fascinating how evident that was to so many people I think the whole Stu situation was majorly messy…teenagers or young adults in over their heads..ego, sexuality, hormones and messy emotions running rampant all of the place …add to that drugs and alcohol. It must’ve been fascinating to watch from afar though

VeggieRavioli — 02/27/2023 9:57 PM I don't agree with the latter part of this passage tbh, John didn't need any propping up in terms of having his ability recognized versus Paul's

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 9:58 PM Yeah, that part I disagree with from our outside perspective, but John was always insecure about his abilities as a musician

Morrigan — 02/27/2023 9:59 PM Yeah I also disagree on that part

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/27/2023 10:01 PM John respected that core of iron, the fact that he couldn't maneuver Paul endlessly fascinated him. I still don't know how to judge John's feelings about his own musicianship, I guess that's where the competitive aspect comes in, but it is fascinating that he decided to prioritize the health of the band over his personal feelings about Paul's abilities.

mynamesbetty — 02/27/2023 10:02 PM John's nascent case of imposter syndrome couldn't stand up to the blazing pillar of self confidence that was eighteen year old stinky rat boy Paul McCartney

VeggieRavioli — 02/27/2023 10:06 PM but the part about Stu entrancing the chicks is dead on lol — of all the Beatles, was Stu the first to provoke an on-sight orgasm out of the audience?? We will never know

louiselux — 02/28/2023 3:12 AM He’s gonna ride that stinky rat boy all the way to the top!

louiselux — 02/28/2023 3:30 AM John seemed to be very incisive about people’s musical abilities in general, but seemed to get stuck when assessing his own.

alfenbalf — 02/28/2023 3:54 AM Tony Sheridan giving off big "I'm from Norfolk" energy here. Baby, John has the softest, gentlest Liverpool accent ever

I love Klaus

louiselux — 02/28/2023 4:14 AM Ha! That explains it - John's accent is the softest

Leggy「little love of mine」 — 02/28/2023 8:22 PM John had the classic "mildly clever kid trapped in the american school system" problem where he was able to coast on his natural gifts for years and then struggled to respond to situations that challenged his abilities. And then he has the help/hindrance of being with Paul and Paul is able to challenge him, and get his skill levels up, but Paul was also a crutch for him in a lot of ways so John didn't learn how to deal with challenges on his own. Most people wouldn't in his situation.

People like John benefit immensely from mentorships preferably from a young age. Hence the proliferation of masterful artists during the Renaissance. In ideal circumstances John would have been apprenticed to someone as eclectic as he was who could educate him and grow his talents. His real talent lay in the fact that he was able to self teach everything he needed to know.

He really was a natural leader.

mynamesbetty — 02/28/2023 8:25 PM That rich old lady (or man) to support him while he focused on his art never materialized so he pulled his socks up and did it all himself

#mclennon #hamburg #hamburg days #beatles meta #my meta #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #stuart sutcliffe #mclennon server

95 notes · View notes