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throughthebluesea · 5 months

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I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

pairing: bada lee x reader

word count: 2.49k

genre: friends to lovers, bada secretly pining over 'straight' reader, howl is a jerk in this fic i am so sorry, i am a fan of his, some angst, slightly suggestive (if you squint), lusher and tatter being so supportive, lusher's gaydar never miss.

den's notes: got this idea from @deathspartner and i hope i gave justice to the prompt. this is inspired by the song jenny by studio killers, the mood maker of this one shot. not proofread, but i hope yall still like it! i might open requests, btw so let me know your thoughts and comments! i really appreciate it!

"i told you, i can't!"

tatter lets out an exasperated sigh for the last time and rolled away from their friend. tatter may have insane patience at times, but this time, she's had it. lusher finds it hilarious, though. their demise is lusher's joy, after all.

bada scowled at the two. at this point, she had given up with her friends. she expects the two to give her the best advice, but all she got were sighs and laughters.

"ssaem, i love you. but i already told you. you're not even sure y/n-ssaem is straight! give it a try!"

"plus, i don't think y/n-unnie is straight. my gay-dar never failed me." lusher adds.

"it's awkward! plus she's my best friend! i can't just barge in and say 'oh! hi my bff y/n! you're so hot and i wanna say i am pining over you since the day we met' randomly. i will look crazy!"

the two younger ones just stared at their mentor, thinking that she's being too pathetic and overthinking everything.

"plus... she's seeing howl." she said with disdain, and she can't hide how her eyes roll in annoyance.

both lusher and tatter knew how down bad bada was towards you, ever since you were introduced as one of the members of team bebe. you two are the same age, with bada older than you by a few days. you always thought that you two were soulmates because of these factors. your friendship started blooming, and the two of you were unstoppable.

sometimes, bada would get you as backup for the choreography drafts she directs, and you would do the same thing when you do your choreography drafts.

dancing became something both of you connect. and it became the turning point of bada's feelings towards you that is beyond borders of friendship began to bloom.

you had this habit of placing a hand on the small of her back, and trust me, bada tries her best not to crumble on the spot out of pure delight and just... her being intensely whipped of her best friend.

bada would think that what she's feeling is bad because... first, she's her best friend, and she remembered one conversation you had at the just jerk family dinner, and you mentioned that you don't see yourself dating girls.

that shit broke her heart. and bada tried to subside her feelings for you. but... she can't help revive such feelings when certain situations arise.

being best friends with you means that you are open to her about all the boys you had slept with. just by hearing your stories, it broke her. right now, you are seeing howl, a colleague of them inside the academy. bada would silently cringe when you told your stories of your moments with howl.

at the back of her mind while listening to you is that she wished it was her hands touching every crevice of her body, feeling every curve you had, the one hearing your voice when you cry out of—

bada shook her head at the thought and sighed. this is probably her fifteenth time sighing. "it's hopeless."

tatter was about to reason out to her usual banter when she heard shouting from outside. the three recognized your voice and howl's.

"and how the fuck am i supposed to react to that, huh?"

"y/n, she is nothing! trust me!"

"trust you?! howl, this is the 3rd time i saw you with moana! and this time, i caught you two smooching each other inside my class studio!"

"moana is just a close friend! y/n, don't let your jealousy take over your senses!"

"I FUCKING DID IT, HOWL. I SET ASIDE MY JEALOUS FEELINGS BECAUSE I TRUST YOU."

the three went silent, and they can hear you sigh. the two looked at bada, who is staring at the door, her hands clenched in anger.

'what the actual fuck, howl? i trusted y/n on you and you will do this shit? also, how did i not know that THAT jerk is doing this to my y/n?!' she thought to herself.

"this isn't working out, howl. let's just end this... i'll just act you're invisible here and just talk to you for purely business only."

she twisted the door knob, entering the studio where the three were in. they scrambled to the side and acted that they're not inside.

you were too into your emotions that you didn't notice the three inside. before howl can barge in and enter, she locked the door and slid down against it.

you listened to him sighing and left the area. the thought of him not even trying to take you back hurted you the most, and tears fell down your cheeks because of it.

the three watched in silence. they felt bad at your broken state, but bada was more hurt. she hates it when you get hurt, and she hates herself for not being there for you when you were suffering.

bada probably hated howl more because she trusted him that you will he taken care of but the fucker chose to break your heart.

tatter pulled out her phone and quickly typed a message directly to bada's phone, and sent it to her.

'time to be y/n-ssaem's knight in shining armor.'

when bada sees the message, she whipped her head towards the younger and glared at her. tatter rolled her eyes and pointed at you, mouthing a 'fucking go, unnie! do it!'

lusher was doing the same thing.

bada sighed quietly and walked towards your weak figure and cleared her throat to get your attention.

you lift your head up and your eyes grew wide at the sight of bada towering you. "b-bada-ya... you were here the whole time?"

she scratches the back of her head and sat beside you. "actually, lusher, tatter and i were here and... we actually heard everything. i'm sorry you had to go through that. howl is such a fucking jerk." she said, gritting her teeth.

lusher and tatter let out noises, agreeing with what the older said, and excused themselves so they can leave the two alone.

"i'm sorry... it's my fault, i trusted him way too much..." you said weakly, and you automatically leaned against her frame. bada's instinct kicked in and hugged her tight. "shh... this is not your fault, okay? if howl had some decency, he wouldn't do this to a pretty girl like you."

just the warmth of her arm around you unlocked more of your tears and you sobbed, and clinged onto her.

bada sighed and stayed silent for you, silently cooing to encourage you to cry and let it all out. she gently stroked the small of your back and stayed there for you.

you would mention something self-deprecating, and bada would dismiss it immediately, reassuring you.

"let's go to your place?" she asks when your hiccups and sobs stopped. you nod, and that's her sign for her to help you up and bring you to her car, and both of you drove to your apartment.

when you've arrived, she never left your side and helped you with everything. and when you settled down your room, bada announced that she's gonna leave her now (because she wanted to give you space, or some moment to clear your thoughts for a good while), but you stopped her.

"stay." you said and looked at her, and she groaned inwardly because she can't say to your boba-like eyes when you want to get something from her. bada obliges and she removed her cardigan first and scooted inside the blanket, hugging you immediately.

she heard you sigh and clinged her arms around you. "thank you, bada... i don't know what to do if you're not here."

she hummed in response, and pulled you closer. eventually the two of you fell asleep.

morning came, and bada was the first one to wake up. the sight of you peacefully sleeping dawned her, and she sighed. you're too precious, she thought. she instinctively fixed your bangs, and then she stared at your face.

"you're making it so hard for me not to fall for you, y/n..." she said faintly, "i'm sorry for hiding this. i just don't wanna ruin our friendship, but there's part of me that wants it. i wanna ruin our friendship, y/n. i can take care of you more than howl... let me love you."

she didn't realized that while she was talking, she had her eyes close and her face leaned close to yours. and she didn't notice that you have woken up and were able to hear her 'morning epiphany'.

"is that what you want, bada?" you asked softly.

bada's eyes opened and looked at you, shocked. "y-you heard it...?"

"most of it..."

"shit... i'm sorry." she sits up, and was about to leave your side, but you're too quick and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from leaving.

"why are you apologizing?"

"because... i shouldn't have caught feelings with my best friend... but i can't help it! you were kind, nice, talented, pretty, and most of all, you deserve the world and i wanted to give it to you. but i was afraid to confess because you might end our years of friendship, and i know you're not into girls... now that the truth is out, you will hate me and will cut ties with me... i'm sorry, i will set aside these feelings for you. i don't wanna lose my closest friend."

"i don't wanna lose you."

you noticed that she was looking down while she fiddled her long, slender fingers, something she does when she's nervous or she gets caught in the act when she pulls pranks at your crew.

you smiled at your friend and cupped her cheek, guiding you to look at her. there was this fond smile playing on your lips. "silly, you don't need to cut ties with me, nor set aside your feelings."

bada stared at you as her lips formed to a pout. "what do you mean..."

"i'm sorry i didn't know sooner... the one that understands me and takes care of me was at my side after all."

she stayed silent, and you grew anxious that she's not even reacting. on bada's part, she is trying to process what you said.

"earth to bada lee... did i lost her already?" you asked in a teasing manner. a tinge of light blush graced the latter's cheeks and cleared her throat.

that gesture made you chuckle, and you moved your hand to gently comb her strawberry and black locks. after being frozen for quite awhile, bada pulled your body close and hugged your waist tight. you felt her exhale and that made you smile more.

"i thought you're not into girls..."

what she said had you laughing. "i did say that, but the truth is, i don't see myself dating girls at the moment because of one reason."

bada pulled away and stared at you. lusher's voice echoed on her brain.

"plus, i don't think y/n-unnie is straight. my gay-dar never failed me."

well, her gay-dar didn't fail her at all. shaking the thought off, she squeezed your hand, urging you to continue.

"remember noze?" she nods. "yeah. what about her."

"i used to have this HUGE crush on her. i am head over heels on her. everything that she liked, i try to like what she does, eats, reads... just to get some sort of... good points on her."

bada began to blush, since she can relate to what you told her. she began to use the scent you wore because if felt like you were with her, and she gets validation from you that bada liked what you liked, as well.

she tried exploring on her cafè orders, venturing on the sweeter ones because you liked sweet blends.

all of those are hidden under her intentions of being your 'greatest best friend' image. she hid her pining over you under that image.

"we played a lot, we kissed, just your 'friends with benefits' shit, but when i was about to confess, she confessed that she was dating aiki-ssaem. and asked to stop what we're doing and just stayed at friends..." you continued. bada noticed sadness in your eyes, but you tried to smile.

"that was my first heartbreak... and she was the first female i fell in love with. that time, i realized that maybe liking girls is not for me. because i end up hurting. no one knew that story, you were the first."

bada went silent, but her fingers are still intertwined against your own. you were silent, as well, but minutes later, you were the first to break it.

"you know, the first time i met you, i felt attracted to you... but i got scared. because i might end up heartbroken again."

she looked up at you and saw you staring at her. "i like you, but i am scared, so i tried fooling around with others, trying to remove whatever feelings i have for you, but it reappears as much as i make it disappear."

"i think i still like you..." you confessed. bada gasped, and didn't hesitate to close the distance between you two, cupping both your cheeks and pressed her lips against your own.

your eyes grew wide but slowly flutters close as the hidden feelings took over. same goes with bada, all the feelings she tried to hide, now she pours it on the kiss.

she pulled away and stared at you. "my feelings for you never left, y/n..."

you stared back right into her brown orbs, and tears started forming on the corners of your eyes. bada hushed and wiped the tears away before it even fell. "i promise not to hurt you."

and you believe that. she was there from the beginning, and never left despite everything that happened. the pain from earlier slowly disappeared, and you don't fear what the future is because you have bada on your side. as your best friend, and as your partner... soon.

weeks later, things are going well between you and bada, and the rest of team bebe are delighted with the shift. lusher liked the glow that bada exudes during practices. she was more enthusiastic, and she had to thank you for that.

tatter liked your shift from mega depresso mood back to your cheerful and playful self. like bada, you're enthusiastic during practice runs.

but, what both tatter and lusher liked was the shift between you and bada. along with the other team bebe members, they felt love. the glances you two had and the way you two get so touchy (in a non-sexual way, of course.) during breaks. they inwardly groan because they had to endure the love bird moments, but kidding aside, they were glad the finally, they made it in each other's arms.

no more hidden pining, no more secrets.

— fin.

#bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada #bada lee imagine #bada lee scenario #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada x y/n #street woman fighter 2 scenarios #street woman fighter 2 x reader #bada x reader #Spotify

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dreamingofmarauders · 3 months

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I'll Always Love You

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which Y/n feels unloved and isolates herself from the rest, and Sirius wants to know what is going on in his gorgeous girl's mind.

Warnings: Anxiety, feeling low/depressed, isolation, sad, angst, panic attack, points of fluff here and there throughout

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Y/n lay down on the ground, the grass providing a soft yet weak cushion, as she stared up at the sky. Looking up into the outer world, a sense of hopelessness filled y/n. She put a hand out, to reach for the sky. A sky that stretched out wide, out of her reach, just like her happiness and love. Only sadness and dread filled her. Her eyes glossed over.

She was all alone.

It was all fine at first, and her heart ached for the days where she smiled naturally, laughing and enjoying her life so much with friends and family, that she had felt like the luckiest person in the world.

It was the sixth year at Hogwarts and everything was wonderful. Y/n had an amazing group of friends, Lily, Marlene, Alice and on the other side were the Marauders. She would study with Lily and Remus in the library in the evenings, sneaking in laughs in between. Y/n played Quidditch alongside, James, Marlene and Sirius, sparing no effort as she was the best on the team, making James grumble at times but he was proud of her nonetheless. Y/n would listen attentively while Peter explained weird facts no one ever knew. All in all, she was happy.

A soft padding caught her ears and beside Y/n plopped down a figure.

"What are you doing out here, darling?"

Y/n's gaze slowly moved from the blue sky to the striking grey eyes of her beloved.

It was near the spring break and when Y/n thought things couldn't get any better, they did. Sirius and Y/n were out at the astronomy tower, and on their way back, the two were walking peacefully until a pair of footsteps began to echo up ahead. Y/n looked at Sirius with wide eyes, who grazed his eyes over the landscape until they halted upon a wooden door. Sirius grabbed Y/n's hand and ran for the broom closet, ushering her in before closing the door behind. Sirius lit up his wand and felt the breath leave his lungs.

Y/n stared up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, her hands resting upon his chest, the two standing flushed together as the broom closet contained barely any space. Sirius reached down and brushed a strand behind Y/n's hair. Y/n let her eyes shut for a brief second, her heart pounding madly in her chest.

"Y/n," Sirius softly whispered out, "I fancy you." He said straightforwardly. "A lot." He paused awaiting an answer but silence greeted him as y/n processed his statement. "Shit, I genuinely hope I didn't just ruin our friendship-"

Sirius broke off as Y/n pressed her lips to his. It took Sirius a few seconds to process what was happening before he shut his eyes, his hands sliding down to Y/n's waist. It was a slow yet affectionate kiss, and the two slowly pulled apart, foreheads resting together, as they tried to catch their breath.

"I like you too, doofus." Y/n breathed out lovingly.

Sirius softly smiled, "I figured as much, love." Sirius paused, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?" Sirius felt himself melt entirely when he saw Y/n's face beam with happiness.

"I would love to."

Sirius returned her expression, "Perfect." He said, before pulling her in for a kiss again.

After that day, the two were together and strong as ever. Their friends were exhilarated when they found out, revealing they had even placed bets on the couple. Unfortunately, James and Marlene owed the others, for which they cursed the pair playfully as they were happy for their friends nonetheless.

"Y/n?" Sirius spoke out softly. He was beginning to get worried. He knew something was off. Ever since the start of the seventh year, his Y/n's been off and it's killing him not knowing how to help her. "Are you alright, dove?"

"M'fine." Y/n mumbled, closing her eyes once again.

Sirius frowned before speaking, "How about we head inside? We could work on our homework together."

"I already did mine." Y/n replied.

That was a lie.

Y/n had begun to lose her motivation, her energy. She performed well in school and met deadlines. However, now her grades were slowly dropping. She disliked going to class because she hated seeing people, when no one out of the many at Hogwarts truly cared for her.

"Alright then." Sirius drew out, and placed his jacket on the grass, laying down beside his girlfriend.

The y/h/c haired girl peeked through her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Spending time with my girl." He instantly replied, flashing a smile down at her. Despite the heaviness she felt, a very tiny warmth flickered in her heart for a second. A small yet brief smile crawled onto her lips, and Y/n reached out to interlock her fingers with Sirius'. At that, Sirius smiled.

His girl was still in there somewhere.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

"Miss. L/n, a word please." McGonagall said as the final bell of the day rang, signalling the end of lessons and the start of the weekend.

Y/n heaved a breath, already knowing where this was headed. Sirius slightly frowned, wondering what McGonagall could possibly want with his girlfriend, after all, she was one of the smartest students in the entire year.

Sirius threw a small smile at Y/n, telling her he would meet her back in the common room. Y/n nodded and headed to McGonagall's desk while Sirius left through the door.

"Yes, Professor?"

McGonagall studied Y/n for a moment before beckoning her to sit, the latter doing as instructed. "Miss. L/n, I am concerned about your academic performance. You are one of the best performing students and yet, suddenly, your grades have begun to drop, and not just in my class, but your other professors have expressed the same concern."

Y/n released a breath, "I just..." She trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

McGonagall's expression softened. "Have a biscuit, Miss. L/n."

Y/n politely accepted the one offered to her and nibbled on it as McGonagall spoke once again.

"Miss. L/n, I am not just your Head of House but also someone who cares about you, whom you can talk to whenever in need. How are you actually doing, Y/n?"

Y/n's eyes slowly glossed over, "I am sorry, Professor-"

"There is no need to apologize." McGonagall said, "Just remember to take care of yourself and that I am here for you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Y/n slowly shook her head.

"Very well, you may leave."

Y/n stood up. "Thank you, Professor." She said before rushing out, not noticing a certain grey eyed boy who had been listening in on the conversation. He felt his heart clench.

Y/n was definitely hiding something but he couldn't figure out a way to help her.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

"Everyone line up!" The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor yelled out, as all the students in the room scrambled into a single file line, pushing and shoving each other as they awaited their turn with the Boggart.

With the war coming, it was necessary to review and practice all skills, so even though the students had worked with a Boggart before, the professor thought there was no harm in trying again.

Each student went one by one, until it was Sirius' turn followed by Y/n's.

Sirius paled at what stepped out through the cupboard. It was his mother, followed by his father, dragging along his younger brother, Regulus, who looked so small and fragile and broken. Sirius had faltered, his hand beginning to shake but before he could succumb to his fears and insecurities, he flicked his wand while muttering "Riddikulus!" And the horrible sight vanished to be replaced with a black dog trying to chase his own tail, which managed from Sirius and his fellow marauders, shit-eating grins.

As Sirius stepped aside, Y/n stepped up, her hands beginning to sweat, not prepared for what was to come. In the blink of an eye, the black dog warped into what were Y/n's parents, whose usual faces of kindness and love were replaced with anger and disappointment, and Y/n felt all the breath leave her lungs. Sirius watched with concern, realizing something was wrong.

"How can you disappoint us like this?" Y/n's mother spoke. "We've given you nothing but love, and you can't even complete your education like a normal person!?" Her mother suddenly shouted making Y/n flinch as a tear slid down her cheek. Suddenly, another figure appeared, making Y/n whimper.

Sirius.

Looking broken, disappointed and angry.

Y/n began to shake her head.

"I've given you all my attention since day one and you can't even let me in!? How am I not good enough for you!?" Sirius screeched, making Y/n let out a sob as her body began to shake.

"That's enough!"

And the Boggart disappeared as the real Sirius appeared into Y/n's view as he wrapped his arms around Y/n, who was sobbing loudly. The whole classroom was dead silent, astounded by what had just transpired. Lily and the girls exchanged worried looks while James, Remus and Peter looked on with disbelief.

"It's alright, I'm right here." Sirius whispered into her hair as he rubbed comforting circles into Y/n's back.

Y/n hiccuped and broke away from Sirius, leaving the young Black slightly startled.

"I'm sorry." She said before she ran out of the room, wanting to get away from everything. She ran and ran and ran, until she got into the safety of one of the girl's bathroom cubicles.

Y/n slid down to the floor, crying her heart out. Why was everything so hard? She was being so unfair to the people around her and she hated herself.

Y/n felt her chest begin to tighten and she placed a hand on her chest as she felt herself unable to breath. Her body shivered uncontrollably and her heart felt as if it would jump out of her chest any second.

The door opened and rushed in Sirius, who surveyed the situation and realized what was happening. He knelt down, pressing Y/n's hand to his chest.

"Love, look at me, copy my breathing." He instructed, but Y/n could barely comprehend what he was saying, hell she could barely see his mouth moving as she felt her vision begin to blur.

"Dove, tell me five things you can see." Sirius said, and Y/n drew in a excruciatingly painful breath.

"Y-you, the door, your tattoos, the toilet a-and my hand." She uttered out.

"Good, darling. What can you hear?"

Y/n spoke out a bit slower this time, "Your voice, the sound of rain outside, students moving out in the hall." She finished, taking in a shuddering breath as she felt her body very slowly begin to relax.

"That's it baby girl, you're alright, you're safe." Sirius spoke out gently, rubbing comforting circles into Y/n's hand, which he softly held between his hold.

"I'm so sorry." Y/n said as she kept her gaze on the floor, too embarrassed to look at Sirius.

"Hey, Y/n/n, look at me, love." He placed a finger under her chin and moved her head until she was looking into his eyes.

"Y/n, I love you so much, and I really care for you. It's hard to watch you losing yourself. You will have to tell me what's going on if you want me to help you."

Y/n felt her eyes burn and she buried her face in his chest, as Sirius placed his head upon hers whilst murmuring reassuring words.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. I don't deserve you." You said while crying. "I have been so unfair to you and everyone else and I'm sorry for it."

"Shh. You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry I didn't try harder." He pulled away to cup Y/n's face. "What's going on in that gorgeous mind of yours?'

Y/n let out a small watery laugh as she wiped her tears. "I just don't feel good anymore. I feel so... empty. So hollow and alone, I can't find it in myself to think that there are people in my life that truly do care for me. I can't find the motivation to keep up with school. I don't..." She let out a defeated sigh, "I don't see a point in my life when all I'm doing is hurting and disappointing the ones around me."

Sirius felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He knew something was wrong but he had no idea his beloved Y/n was going through so much. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry, darling, I wish I had known sooner. But believe me when I say this that we all do love you. Lily's been worried and keeps asking me constantly what's on your mind but I had no answer for her." Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You matter a lot. You have no clue what would happen to me if I lost you, you're my life, Y/n. I can't bear seeing you unhappy." Sirius took her hands between his. "I promise you, we will work through this together, you and me, alright?"

Y/n nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over her, making her heart feel warm after a long time. For the first time in a while, Y/n felt loved and felt a certain satisfaction that she was in good hands.

She embraced Sirius tightly.

"I love you."

Sirius smiled, pulling Y/n closer.

"I love you too, darling. I'll always love you."

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A/N: I hope you all liked the oneshot. I was going to do a birthday party for the reader and everything but I felt this was the best place to end it off.

For anyone ever feeling they are not enough, you are enough and deserve the whole world. If you ever want to talk, just send me a message. :)

I had begun writing this when I was feeling low. I felt unhappy, I couldn't smile, it was a bad phase. I felt that no one around me actually cared for me, but I know some people will always be there for me and others need to be let go (which I suck at doing). I still do at times feel that I will never be enough and no one wants to be around me, but I am trying. Anyways, I love you all so much and you all deserve the world and beyond! I hope you're all doing well and staying smiling! ❤

Love,

Serina

P.S. Also, can someone please get me a Sirius, like where can I get one from? He's too precious 😭

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worth-the-chaos · 4 months

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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 12

Chapter Summary: The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, knives and blood, jealous Steve

Word Count: 6.5k

Author’s Note: This chapter is starting to get season 4 going, so that’s pretty epic. I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you so much for reading it <3

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, send me asks! Tell me shit, ask me questions, y’all are fun to talk to ;)

Series Masterlist | Part 11 | Next Part

***

Your Saturday started out like any normal Saturday. Steve peppered soft kisses to your skin as you woke up from your comfortable slumber wrapped in his arms. You ate breakfast together and got ready before picking up Robin and making your way to Family Video. It had taken a significant amount of convincing to get Keith to let the three of you work together, considering there was really only enough work for two people to do, but he finally agreed to it since, in his own words, “Steve barely even counts.”

You all were reorganizing the shelves as Robin recounted her conversation with Vickie at the basketball game the night prior. “Then Vickie laughed. And it wasn’t like a cheap fake laugh either. It was like…it was a real, genuine laugh!”

“Of course she laughed, Rob. It’s my muppet joke. It’s hilarious,” Steve replied as he restocked the horror section. You rolled your eyes from your perch on the counter, glaring up at him as you stopped sorting out the returned movies.

“My point is that Vickie laughed, and everything was just like…it was perfect! But I’m having this problem where it’s like, I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say, but then I guess I get nervous and the words keep spilling out, and it’s like my-my brain is moving faster than my mouth or…or rather my-my mouth is moving faster than my brain, and…and it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging and I’m trying to stop digging, but I can’t, and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are,” you responded, looking at her with a great deal of sympathy. You knew how she was feeling. You couldn’t even count the amount of times that you had rambled on and on to Steve about something so completely and utterly stupid because you didn’t know when to stop.

“Ugh, I’m hopeless,” Robin backed up against the wall, throwing her head back in exasperation.

“Robin! Don’t say that; you are not hopeless,” you scolded your best friend, “I mean, look. I was completely and utterly hopeless before Steve and I started dating…like if he hadn’t shown up and the planets hadn’t aligned, I’d be single as fuck right now, but everything that the two of us have, started with us just being friends. So, the fact that you’re talking to Vickie and she clearly at least likes you in that capacity is a really damn good sign.”

“I wouldn’t say you would be hopeless, I mean, guys are pretty much throwing themselves at you,” Steve mumbled under his breath, thinking back to how you had interacted with Eddie the night before. You had seemed so comfortable with him and he hated to admit it, but the two of you looked like you belonged together far more than you did with him. Eddie marched to the beat of his own drum. He dressed different, he acted different, he didn’t go with the crowd or hop on the bandwagon. You were exactly the same. Sometimes Steve worried that you would wake up and realize that he was way too stereotypical and boring for you and that you would leave him. He pushed the thought aside as you spoke up.

“What do you mean?” Before Steve could answer, Robin began rushing across the room.

“Oh! I think I found our morning movie!” She held up a copy of Doctor Zhivago.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS,” Steve groaned, shaking his head as he walked past the counter towards her. You stopped him, smacking him in the chest before he could try and take the tape away from Robin before you spoke up.

“We’d actually love to watch it Robin,” you smiled, your eyes still glaring at Steve. Robin jumped up and down a little bit before turning on the television to get it set up, but all of you paused when the news came on.

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not yet released the victim’s name…” the reported stated, detailing all the information that was known and released.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, his and Robin’s eyes transfixed on the screen. His voice sounded far away as your vision blurred with tears. You could barely breathe as you thought about the only two Hawkins High students you knew that lived there: Max and Eddie. If it was either of them, you weren’t sure what you would do. You weren’t sure how you would be able to live and move on.

You stumbled backwards, and you knocked over a pile of VHS tapes as you blindly grabbed for the edge of the counter, beginning to hyperventilate. Robin and Steve snapped out of the trance the news had put them in, as Steve’s head whipped around towards you just in time as you collapsed to the floor.

“Robin turn that off!” Steve yelled, and she grabbed for the remote, quickly silencing the news. You were in a heap on the floor sobbing, barely able to hear Steve as he quickly sat with you on the floor, rubbing big circles across your back to try and calm you down. “Shhhh, y/n. I’m right here, okay baby….I’m right here with you and I’m not going to go anywhere,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple as you cried.

After a while, you finally found the will to calm yourself down, and you had been the one to turn the TV back on. You wanted to know as much as you could. You wanted as much information as possible to rule out the possibility that it was either of your friends. Really the only additional information you got was that it was definitely murder and that the police hadn’t released the names of any suspects, which was a whole lot of nothing to go off of.

You were biting your nails, staring at the screen with furrowed brows, when suddenly the chime of the bell above the door rang out into the otherwise empty store. You jumped, turning around to see Dustin followed by Max Mayfield herself.

“Max!” You shouted as you hopped over the counter and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She groaned, not expecting the sudden demonstration of how much you cared before she reciprocated.

“Hello to you too, I guess?”

“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief flood your body, knowing that Max wasn’t the unnamed victim from the news. Max was struck by your words, not really even considering the fact that some of her friends may be led to believe that she had been killed based on the location of the murder.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Steve chimed in, pointing to the TV screen in the back corner of the room.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asked suddenly. You looked at him with confusion plastered across your face.

“Someone was just murdered,” Steve replied, annoyed that the boy could be asking about phones at a time like this.

Dustin just slammed his hands on the counter in response, causing you to jump again in your anxious state, before he repeated himself. “How many phones do you have?”

“Two…why?” You spoke up, furrowing your brow.

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin corrected you, a similar look flashing across her face.

“Three works,” Max spoke up, looking at Dustin. Dustin paused, looking at Steve and Robin behind the counter before throwing his backpack across and hopping it. You and Max were civilized, walking around the counter to join them while Steve protested.

“My tapes! Dude! What are you doing, man?!” Steve groaned. Dustin had a special talent for making things significantly more difficult for Steve…especially at his place of work.

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin replied, typing into the computer.

You attempted to shove him to the side, away from your computer, but he swatted your hands away. You glared at him with the might of a thousand suns before hip checking him, causing him to stumble to the side. “What the fuck do you guys need our computer for?”

“To look up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers,” Dustin retorted as if it was obvious.

“Oh Eddie, your new best friend you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game,” Steve grumbled back, but you were only half paying attention as you made eye contact with Max. Clearly the two kids knew something that you didn’t and you were worried what that meant in conjunction with the shit you were hearing on the news.

“I never said that!” Dustin looked at Steve, and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day,” Robin spoke up, reorganizing the shit that Dustin had knocked off the counter.

“Robin, I totally empathize but this cannot wait,” Dustin sighed as he started writing on a clipboard.

“What because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?”

“Exactly!”

“Do you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve asked you. The chuckle he was about to let out died in his throat when he saw the look on your face.

“I really think we should hear them out,” your voice was small when you replied. You all looked over at Max and she took a deep breath before she began talking.

“The victim…it’s Chrissy Cunningham,” she started, “I saw her body this morning when the police were leaving. The thing is, I saw her go in Eddie’s trailer and shortly after, my TV started going nuts and the lights started flickering like crazy, which isn’t really super out of the ordinary, my electricity is shit….but then I heard screaming and looked out the window and I saw Eddie leave and—and he looked scared. Like really scared.”

Steve reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours before he spoke up. “So…Eddie killed Chrissy?”

“Steve! No, he fucking didn’t. That’s why we need the phones so that we can find out where he is so that we can prove that he’s innocent,” Dustin glared at your boyfriend, shoving him a bit.

“Just calm down,” you interjected, standing in between the boys. This was all a lot to unpack and you weren’t going to solve anything if they couldn’t stop bickering. When they both grumbled and crossed their arms, you moved around the counter, swiftly moving to the door and flipping the sign to indicate that the store was closed. “Just, you guys can use the phones, okay? But that’s it. We don’t do anything else until we have something solid to go off of. Do you understand?” You looked between Max and Dustin.

They both began to nod and you shook your head. “No, I need to hear you say it. I’m serious, someone was just killed and we are not putting our lives in jeopardy without some serious cause, okay?”

“Yes, we understand,” Max responded. Dustin spoke up in agreement, and you paused to look at them one more time before turning around.

“I’ll get Keith’s phone from the back. You all start making calls.”

You swiftly headed to the back, grabbing the third phone. You were turning around to leave when you about nearly jumped out of your skin, when you were met face to face with your boyfriend.

“Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Don’t fucking do that!” You put a hand on your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I don’t have a good feeling about this. I mean, the most likely scenario is that Eddie killed that poor girl and now we’re actively trying to find him. He could be fucking dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay? So, let’s just stop all this bullshit before it’s too late,” he grabbed your hands, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of them as he looked you in the eyes. His brow was furrowed with worry, and you felt a pang in your chest. You knew you had to see this through, if not for Eddie, then for Dustin.

“Steve, I know Eddie. He wouldn’t do something like this. Trust me,” you told Steve, looking him in the eyes with so much conviction that he decided to let it go for now.

You brought the phone out and Hawkins’ Family Video soon became a bustling call center as you all took turns trying to get ahold of anyone who may possibly know where Eddie was. Name after name after name got crossed off your list as you found no answers, and you were beginning to feel hopeless when Max spoke up.

“Hey guys, I might have a lead,” she started, “apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”

“Alright, that sounds promising. So where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin asked.

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows. He’s more of a…legend than someone that people actually know.”

“What about a last name?” You spoke up, attempting to find any additional piece of information that you could follow to find Eddie.

“I don’t know that either.”

“I bet the cops know the last name,” Steve spoke up. He hadn’t been super helpful in calling around, instead choosing to reorganize the store and do some light cleaning. He was reorganizing some tapes with his back to you all and he had said it so nonchalantly.

“What?” You questioned him, irritation settling in your tone.

“I said the cops probably know,” he shot back, “I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”

“The cops? Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“I just think at this point they should be filled in on what we know; what’s going on.”

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin stepped forward, but you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to settle him. You could hear the hurt in his voice and you wished that Steve hadn’t been the one to cause it, but then again, tensions were high with everything that was going on; like the implications of Max’s account of her electricity going haywire around the time that Chrissy would have died.

“Woah, woah, woah, I believe in innocent until proven guilty and all that constitutional shit…I just, you know….I just don’t think we can rule it out,” Steve spoke up, avoiding making eye contact with any of you as he messed with a Rubik’s cube on the counter.

“Steve!” You scolded him. Why can’t he just take a leap of faith and believe you guys?

“That’s precisely what we’re trying to do here, Steve,” Max spoke up, glaring at the boy.

“And maybe we’d have a little bit more luck if you spent less time reorganizing shit that doesn’t need reorganizing and more time trying to find Eddie,” Dustin chimed in.

“Hey, someone’s gotta make sure things are in order here. Do you see how many fucking movies we have? It can be overwhelming for the average customer,” Steve tried to defend himself.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head, as you darted over to the computer, typing away into the system. “What are you doing?” Max asked.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” you started as you pressed enter on the keyboard. “Twelve Ricks already have accounts here…now it’s just a matter of narrowing it down.”

***

After determining the Rick most likely to be the Reefer Rick, you waited until it got dark to go scope the place out. You decided that you’d be more inconspicuous at night, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves while you tracked down a potential murder suspect.

You were all piled in Steve’s BMW as he pulled into the driveway of one Rick Lipton. You felt nerves settle in your stomach as you tried to take a deep breath, Dustin quickly getting out of the car and ringing the doorbell. No one answered and after Dustin pressed the button repeatedly, Steve put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the door.

“Okay. Well, that’s settled, I guess he’s not here,” Steve spoke up. This did nothing to stop Dustin from continuing to pound on the door, yelling for the boy to answer. So much for being inconspicuous, you thought as you walked around the side of the house. Your hands trembled a bit, being a tad anxious about being out here at night, when your flashlight finally caught sight of a boathouse on the lake.

“Hey guys?” You called out. Steve was quick to join you, followed by the rest of the gang as you cautiously approached the metal lined shed. There was no real signs of life in there as you entered, and it seemed just as abandoned as Rick’s house. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You shouted into the darkness as you took a hesitant step inside.

“What a dump,” Steve muttered, taking in the sight of all of the clutter. In his mind, there was no way in hell that Eddie was here, so though he was taking all of this seriously, he wasn’t too committed to really inspecting the place with great detail.

You grabbed an oar off of the wall, walking over to the small boat docked in the center of the room as you shoved at the tarps with it, not wanting to get close just in case something was awry.

“What are you doing?!” Dustin whisper-shouted at you, perplexed by your actions.

“He might be in there,” you answered simply.

“Then take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” You whisper-shouted back at him, though when Dustin moved forward to do just that, you and Steve both yanked him back by his shoulders. You continued to poke at the tarp, and Steve placed a gentle but nervous hand on the small of your back, not wanting to stray too far from you.

Max suddenly spoke up from across the room, pointing her flashlight at some odds and ends on a small table. “Hey, guys. Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us? Got spooked and ran?” Robin suggested, joining Robin to inspect the items before her.

“Don’t worry. Y/n will get him with her oar…isn’t that right y/n?” Dustin spoke to you sarcastically. You were glad you had the self control to not swing it at the infuriating child beside you as Steve moved away from you to pull Dustin aside. He didn’t need the two of you arguing with each other. You two bickered like siblings and now wasn’t the time for a pseudo-familial spat.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson,” you started, continuing to jab at the tarps, “but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight—“

Your words were cut off as a figure under the tarp sprung to life, grabbing you around the shoulders and pushing you against the wall. You heard the familiar flick of a pocket knife, feeling the sharp tip of the metal press against your throat. The boathouse erupted into a chorus of shrieks and screams, as you leaned your head back, unable to breathe as you stared wide-eyed at the boy you were tutoring for physics.

“Woah, woah, woah! Eddie! Eddie, stop!” Dustin shouted. He took a step closer and Eddie pushed you back farther into the wall, letting you all know that he wasn’t playing games. Steve felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. To Steve, Eddie’s actions confirmed that he was dangerous, that he had likely killed Chrissy, and that he was about to do the same thing to you. Steve’s mind was working double time trying to figure out how to get you away from the freak, as he started to take a huge step towards you when Robin roughly grabbed his arm, preventing him from getting any closer.

“Robin let go of me!” He shouted at her, trying to shake out of her grip.

“Steve,” she warned, and the way that she said it made him stop to reevaluate the situation, realizing the closer he got to you, the more he was putting your life in peril. A small cry escaped your lips as you tried to blink back tears, and Steve’s heart sank in his chest. He felt his hands trembling at his sides, wanting nothing more than to hold you and to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but watching as the knife threatened to break the skin of your neck, he wasn’t so sure he even believed the sentiment.

“It’s me, Dustin. This is y/n,” Dustin continued, gesturing to you, “she’s not going to hurt you, right, y/n?”

“Right, yeah,” you barely were able to whisper, the muscles in your neck all tensed as you tried to get as far away from the knife as possible. Your chest heaved as you swallowed and breathed out a shaky breath.

“Y/n, why don’t you drop the oar,” Dustin cautioned. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it, barely even being able to feel the white knuckled grip you had on the handle. You willed your fingers to let go and as the oar crashed to the floor, the sudden sound caused Eddie to jump, leaning in farther and nicking your neck a bit in the process. You yelped in pain, and Steve started to freak out, unable to control his breathing. Robin continued to try and calm him down, but it wasn’t working super well.

“She’s cool, she’s cool!” Dustin reminded Eddie, still trying to talk him off of a cliff. Steve wished he had trusted his intuition earlier and kept you all far away from Eddie the freak Munson.

“I’m cool, man, I’m cool,” you spoke up, your voice shaky, “I’m helping you in Ms. O’Donell’s class, remember?”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, his eyes wild as he refused to let you go.

“We’re looking for you, we’re here to help,” Dustin spoke up, “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D. And obviously that’s Steve; I know you know him because you hate him, okay? Eddie, we are on your side. I swear on my mother, right guys?” He looked to the three of your friends behind him who all desperately nodded in agreement.

“Yes, yes, we swear!” Robin agree.

“Yeah, on Dustin’s mother,” you squeaked out. Eddie looked at you and you could tell he was acting out of fear. You knew this wasn’t him. That still didn’t quell the fear in your own chest as you spoke up once more to whisper, “please.”

Eddie paused, his eyes searching yours to try and determine your intention. He knew that you were a good person. Hell, you’d been helping him through fucking physics which wasn’t exactly a cake walk. Seeing the terror across your face as you whimpered, however, was what finally broke Eddie, as he finally let you go.

You let out a small cry as the tears you had been attempting to blink back finally spilled down your face while you crumpled to the floor. Steve rushed to your side, sitting on the floor with you, not unlike he had earlier in Family Video when the news came on. Your hand clutched at your neck. Even though Eddie had only just slightly nicked you, your blood had dripped enough to stain the collar of your shirt, and began to seep through your fingers as you held pressure to the cut. It stung like a bitch, but you were more scared than hurt.

“Hey, hey, hey, let me see, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” Steve asked softly, as one of his hands wrapped around the nape of your neck and the other gently tugged on your wrist. You obliged, trembling fingers dropping from your neck as you shook in Steve’s arms.

He used the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the cut to attempt to get it to stop bleeding. You took several deep breaths, wiping the tears away from your face as you began to finally calm down. It helped that you knew that Eddie wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. In your mind, he wasn’t a threat in the slightest, just a boy that was scared and needed some comforting.

“Eddie, we just want to talk,” you heard Dustin’s voice ring out in the empty boathouse. Eddie looked like a mess as he sat in a heap on the floor, looking equal parts defeated and terrified. Dustin tried to take the knife away from him, but Eddie tightened his grip so Dustin relented.

“We just want to know what happened,” you breathed out, your voice still shaky as you continued to calm down.

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie sniffled. You moved out of Steve’s grasp despite his protests, putting a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He tensed up but soon relaxed into your touch.

“Try us,” you replied. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the look on your face or the sincerity in your voice, but he decided in that moment that he could trust you guys.

He began by explaining that she was at his house so that he could sell to her, discussing how everything had been fine and normal…until it very much wasn’t.

“…her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh…and she just, like, hung there. And her bones…uh, she…her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man…it-it was like there was something inside her head pulling,” he whimpered with a faraway look in his eyes, “I…I-I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away…I-I left her there,” he scoffed, “you all think I’m crazy, right?”

“No, we don’t think you’re crazy,” Dustin began to assure him, but Eddie quickly cut him off.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!”

You moved in between Eddie and Dustin, pushing Dusting behind you protectively. “Hey, we’re not bullshitting you,” you started, your tone leaning on frustrated, “we believe you and we’re probably the only people who fucking will, so I would suggest you find a way to calm down and shut the fuck up because what I’m about to tell you might be difficult to take.”

“Okay,” Eddie finally said. No one was really expecting you to be that blunt about things, but it needed to be said.

“You know how people say Hawkins is…cursed?” You started, trying to find the right words. Eddie nodded. “They’re not…way off. There’s another world; a world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours,” your hand subconsciously went to the cut on your neck, the bleeding having finally trickled to a stop.

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max spoke up quietly, and you felt a chill creep up your spine as she said it.

“These monsters from this other world,” Dustin continued, “we thought that they were gone, but they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”

“If they’re back again, we need to know,” you emphasized.

“That night, did you see anything?” Robin questioned. You all waited with bated breath for Eddie’s answer. You were afraid of what he might say and Steve stepped forward and grabbed your hand, sensing your anxiety.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh…touch,” Eddie responded, “you know, I tried to wake her man, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was…she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell…Vecna’s curse,” Dustin whispered.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asked, pulling you into his chest. He needed something to hold onto.

“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin answered and you shuddered thinking about it. You had thought you got rid of whatever entity was calling the shots from the Upside Down, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe everything that had happened before was merely the beginning.

***

You all had taken turns recounting the last two years worth of events to Eddie as he sat there in silence trying to take it all in. After everything that he had seen, he really had no choice but to believe you guys, glad that you were all on his side. You promised the boy that you would be back with supplies in the morning, swiftly piling back into Steve’s car.

“Hey, you know when we had that really sweet convertible and I had you drive it up that big ass hill so we could use my radio?” Dustin suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah?” Steve responded, not quite sure where the boy was going with this.

“Well, bad news is we’re gonna need to go use it again before we all go home because I have an idea, but good news is that it’s at my house now so that’s cool.”

Steve sighed and you all silently made your way to Dustin’s house. There wasn’t much to talk about. You tiptoed through his kitchen to avoid waking his mother as you all crept up to his bedroom. He started messing with all his radio equipment as you sat on his bed. While he was searching for the right frequency, Steve darted out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, opening the cabinet under the sink and rifling through it. He found what he was looking for and quietly slipped back into Dustin’s bedroom.

“Here,” he said as he sat down next to you. You looked at him confused until you saw that he had a first aid kit in his hands. He took out an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up the dried blood on your neck. You hissed when the wipe touched your cut, the alcohol burning as he disinfected it. He put some antibiotic ointment on a band aid and placed it gingerly over the cut. He noticed some of the hickies he had left on your neck the night before, quickly moving your hair to make them more inconspicuous. “There. All better.”

You couldn’t help but flush with how sweet Steve was being. Even if the world was undoubtedly ending, at least you knew that he was going to be there for you. You could tell that he was on edge, probably more so given how Eddie had reacted, and you just appreciated that he wasn’t overreacting…yet.

Suddenly, Dustin’s Cerebro came to life, and you heard the distinctive sound of police chatter over the radio as you were clued into what the Hawkins police department knew of Eddie’s involvement in Chrissy’s death. Unfortunately, though not released to the public yet, Eddie was prime suspect number one.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Fuck!”

“Woah, woah, whoa, calm down Dustin. We’re gonna figure all of this out okay? Freaking out isn’t going to make any of this shit easier, so we might as well all stay calm,” your voice was remarkably even as you said it and it was starting to freak the rest of your friends out. Of everyone here, you should by all accounts be the most freaked out.

“Look, I don’t think that we should split up, given everything that’s going on,” Steve spoke. “My parents aren’t home, so how about everyone spends the night at my house? You can all call your parents and make arrangements when we get there.”

Everyone agreed with Steve, and you all made your way out to his car, Dustin leaving a note to let his mom know he would be gone before he left. “Y/n? Are you, like, okay?” Max asked hesitantly. Your mind flashed back to what it felt like to have a knife held up to your throat.

“I’m fine, Max. I promise,” you said, but it didn’t sound very convincing. You were honestly more worried about the kids. You thought about the fact that they were deprived a normal childhood, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. You were the babysitter, you were supposed to be the one to make sure that they were okay and safe and happy.

Steve finally pulled into his driveway, leading everyone inside and showing them around. “You all can sleep wherever. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs or you could sleep in the family room. I don’t care,” he sighed, just ready to go to sleep. Everyone got comfortable, Max and Robin choosing to sleep on the couches and Dustin taking the guest bedroom. You and Steve went to his room and you collapsed onto his bed.

“This can’t be happening again,” you spoke up as exhaustion from the day’s events settled in your bones.

“Yeah, I can’t quite believe it either,” Steve said, flopping down on the bed next to you. “Y/n, you have to promise me something okay?”

“What?”

“That if this all gets to be too much again, we call it quits. We get the kids out, we get Robin out, we get the hell out.”

“Steve,” you looked at him, trying to read his expression, “I can’t make that promise.”

“Y/n, everything has been escalating. First it was just one demogorgon, then it was a fuck ton of demo-dogs, then it was Russians and a giant flesh monster…I don’t know how we can handle anything worse, I mean we barely handled everything last summer!” He exclaimed, shaking his head at you. You could tell he was getting more irate, anger seeping into his tone.

“Steve, we either do nothing and die when the whole fucking world ends, or we do something and maybe die trying, or better yet, we fix the fucking problem and never have to worry about it again,” you replied, sitting up, slightly irritated with his tone. He stood up, looking down at you with a furrowed brow as he continued.

“You’re not understanding, y/n. Look, someone died. Unexplainably, just up and died in the most gruesome fucking way. We don’t know anything about how it happened or why or if it will happen again, and I’ll be damned if it happens to one of us, okay. Just promise me.”

“Steve, I can’t, and you know I can’t.”

Steve scoffed, trying to find the right words. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he decided that now was as good a time as any to get really fucking real with you. “Y/n. I want a future with you. We can’t fucking have that if one of us is dead.”

“We can’t have a future if the world fucking ends either. I have a massive fucking headache and I just want to go to bed, okay?” You got up and began changing into pajamas, and you heard Steve sigh behind you. He remembered his pinky promise to you in the woods that you were in this together. If you couldn’t make a promise to him, the best he could do was uphold his.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” he warned as he crawled into bed, scooting towards you to spoon you. It was odd how casually you two could have a conversation like this, about the end of the world and the possibility of losing each other at any given moment.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you replied, turning in his arms and placing a kiss to his chest. You willed the words to be true as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

***

Dustin threw the door open to the boathouse and you rolled your eyes, knowing it would likely scare the shit out of Eddie. You seemed to be right as you heard him shout from across the room, finally making it into the shed to see him pressed up against the back wall, knife extended out in front of him.

“Delivery service,” Dustin smiled at his friend. You waved sheepishly at Eddie, hoping that he could find it in his heart to forgive you guys for nearly giving him a heart attack…twice.

You all moved to stand around the boat as Eddie sat down in it, tearing into a box of cereal and eating it as if he hadn’t had a meal in days…which to be fair he probably hadn’t.

“So we have some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin cut to the chase.

“Bad news first, always,” Eddie spoke through a mouthful of food. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you scanned the room, noticing similar expressions painted on Robin and Max’s faces.

“We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with Dustin’s Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you,” you quickly spoke up as you gave the boy a sympathetic look.

“Also, they’re uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in.

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max agreed. You rolled your eyes. So much for breaking the news softly.

“And the good news?”

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother will be gunning for you,” Robin spoke up.

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie clarified, his eyes staring off, unfocused.

“Exactly,” Robin breathed out.

“So before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin outlined.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie fumed. Sure he loved the Henderson kid, but the boy got on his damn nerves like all the time, and this was one of those moments.

“Believe it or not, we’ve been through this kind of thing before…a few times actually,” you reassured Eddie, hoping that your words would calm his nerves but that was definitely a bit of a stretch.

“You’re telling me that you, Ms. 4.0, have been off fighting monsters while maintaining a perfect GPA?” Eddie asked in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

“I know, it’s pretty impressive,” Steve spoke up, throwing an arm around you, “we usually rely on this girl with super powers but, uh, those went bye-bye.”

“So we’re kind of in more of the brainstorming phase,” Robin spoke up and you all nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you really have nothing to worry about,” Dustin reassured Eddie, but all of you knew that that was far from the truth. There was definitely a shit ton of stuff to worry about. Before Eddie could ask anymore questions, you all heard sirens wailing in the distance. He quickly covered up with the tarp as you all ran to the window, watching as several emergency vehicles passed right by Reefer Rick’s house.

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you concluded that there must be another body. You all raced to Steve’s car again, following the waling sound of sirens, afraid of what you’d find.

***

a/n: thanks for reading people of tumblr! If you wanted to reblog, I promise I wouldn’t be mad ;)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers

#stranger things #steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington fanfic #netflix #friends to lovers #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you

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maidenvault · 1 year

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RotJ makes a point of letting us know that Leia is Luke's sister, they've known this on some level for a long time, and he probably cares more about her than anyone in the world because this gives so much more weight to his conflict at the end of the movie, and I think this is a huge thing people overlook when they argue that him redeeming his father represents a rejection of the old Jedi ways of non-attachment. Because in the moment he has to let go of Leia and his friends to be able to actually save Anakin.

When Obi-Wan tries to convince Luke that he has to kill Vader and there's no other way, he doesn’t really discuss it as an issue of Luke having an attachment to him. I think he knows this isn't really the Jedi way but just like in the previous war, they don't seem to be faced with any good choices. Obi-Wan believes what Luke wants is truly impossible and, having failed to stop Vader when he could have before, of course he's trying to stop Luke from making the same mistake.

But it's significant that in the same conversation, Obi-Wan does warn him that his love for his sister could be made a liability if he's not careful. When Luke learns he has a twin and reveals how strong a connection he feels with Leia because he doesn't even have to be told who it is, Obi-Wan's response sets up how this will play into the climax of the film:

"Your insight serves you well. Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor."

Then when Luke is brought to Sidious, he reveals to Luke that the Rebellion is walking right into a trap as a way to torment and provoke him. Luke gets angrier and angrier while helplessly watching the fleet get ambushed and finally does just what Sidious wants and tries to attack him. But it's Vader specifically threatening Leia that makes Luke totally lose control of his feelings and fight him in a rage.

Luke is basically facing the same kind of test he failed so badly in ESB by running off to help his friends. When Yoda is trying to make him see he's not ready to face Vader and keep him from going to Bespin, he says something that I think is such an underrated quote in its importance to Luke's whole journey:

"Decide you must how to serve them best. If you leave now, help them you could, but you would destroy all for which they have fought and suffered."

Luke is really lucky he doesn't get killed in Cloud City (or captured, which I think at this point could have resulted in him being turned). Yoda knows Luke is the one person with a chance of defeating the Emperor and Luke just about throws that away.

But at the end of RotJ when Luke cuts off Vader's hand, he surely is reminded of his failure at Bespin and sees the path he's starting down by succumbing to his fears like that again. He stops because he sees he's betraying his loved ones and everything he is. He can only throw away his weapon and confidently tell the Emperor to eat shit then because he's no longer afraid of dying or of those he loves dying. He's done what his father couldn't do and kept his soul intact, which is what Leia would want. Because real love isn't selfishly trying to save someone by betraying what they believe in like Anakin did with Padme. And it obviously has to be an incredibly powerful thing for Vader to see his own son able to do this, even comparing himself to the man he once was ("I am a Jedi, like my father before me").

We remember everything working out okay so it's easy sometimes to forget that Luke gives this triumphant speech when the rebel fleet is getting pulverized outside and things overall still look pretty hopeless. He probably expects he could die at this point. But like Obi-Wan in his own death scene, he knows nothing can destroy him now. And it's the love he feels for his family that gives him the strength to let go.

#luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #leia organa #jedi order #pro jedi #star wars #meta #my meta

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popponn · 7 months

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how one looks. [isagi yoichi x f!reader]

notes: this was born out of love and rage for his anime official arts' clothes because why is my man dressed like t h a t way too many times already... so i will bully him a bit (then feel bad about it. and it shows). other than that: fluff, yoichi got so sappy and so smitten for a hot sec, yoichi's fashion sense slander (and lets be honest. it deserves it. yoichi's plus point, many. negative point, his closet.)

“You know,” you began and Yoichi instantly felt like he was about to get a ball kicked to his face. “I had been thinking. Why do you look like an unfashionable grandpa sometimes?”

“…huh?” Yoichi responded, not really knowing how to answer to that. What should a guy do when their girlfriend of three years plus a half, who is also probably the love of their life, insinuate something about their appearance? Neither Blue Lock nor his parents prepared him for this.

With your eyes squinting at him, you leaned towards him from your seat in the armchair. One hand perched on the armrest and supported your chin as your face scrunched up from your thoughts. “I mean, I do think you are cute and handsome. Charming too,” you said.

Yoichi tried not to melt. Years passed and he is still weak whenever you praise him out of blue like this. From his parents to his teammates to Noel Noa knew about this—so, in attempt to be normal, Yoichi tried to kept everything under a soft smile directed to you only, “Gosh. You know, you are—”

“Hey, this is about you not me. Shush, shush,” you scolded him lightly with a finger pressed to his lips. This time, Yoichi could only blinked absentmindedly as you continued in a serious manner, “But, you see, if I look at you properly without bias—I wonder why I could think like that.”

It was at this point Yoichi realized you were trying to call him not cute, not handsome, and not charming in a very roundabout way. Again, confused on how to react to things like this, he said, “…uh?”

You were not Rin, Barou, Kaiser or anyone he shared competitive trash talking with hell and back—and even calling him ‘ugly’ really was tame to the shits spitted out straight at his face. You were never like this and Yoichi knows since the four years ‘unclear situationship’ period that his appearance really does not matter to you who would look at him gently even with his face dressed in odd drawings courtesy of Bachira’s oil markers. With that being said, he really didn’t understand what was going on.

“Your hair is honestly generic. Like, I really get why Rin said he called you NPC back then,” you explained and Yoichi tried not to wince. “Oh, but don’t change it! If it changes, especially without me knowing beforehand, I probably won’t recognize you. Though what’s a bit unique about them are probably only your sprout and bangs…kind of?”

In silence and in attempt to be a good boyfriend, Yoichi could only nod.

“And then, your fashion sense…” you continued, pity coloring your face, “…actually, where do I start on that one? I think that one part of you is so hopeless it kind of turn around to cute… in a really naive and stupid way though.”

For a moment, Yoichi remembered how he used to think in Blue Lock some people could be very harsh in commenting. Turns out, listening to your girlfriend obliterating you appearance wise is a whole another level of ego bruising experience. “Now, come on, you know I’m not good at those mix matching thing…” he admitted with pain in his voice. Because at this point what could he do?

“Of course I know,” you said as if he was saying that sky is blue. “I mean, remember how I used to tease you about ‘all point in soccer and social skill, zero in others’?” Yoichi doubted that it was all ‘teasing’. At this moment, it felt like lighthearted bullying. “I’m not exactly a hundred percent kidding, you know.”

At least he saw this one coming.

“Ugh, what brought this on suddenly, seriously?” Yoichi asked with a groan. Did he do something? He didn’t forget an anniversary or something, right?

You hummed, before answering hesitantly, “Hmm…nothing much actually?”

“So you just said all that for no reason?!” he cried out, not actually buying you answer. At that, you stayed silent for a moment.

“…actually, it’s because I saw a photo of you online, not the most recent, I think,” you finally admitted, your eyes slowly drifting away from his face. “…your clothes was so ugly there I felt like burning your closet suddenly.”

“Please don’t,” Yoichi said quickly, before prompting you to continue. “And?”

“…it’s a waste,” you continued. “You are handsome, cute. Your eyes look good when you are focused. You are like a really handsome cat who is really good at soccer. But you dress like an unfashionable grandpa who really loves neon green sometimes, so it’s a waste.”

Listening to your explanation, both fondness and exasperation overcame Yoichi in a wave that felt like a pleasant breeze compared to whatever you just dished out to him seconds ago. “Don’t burn my closet though,” Yoichi said, utterly serious and yet somehow still couldn’t find it in himself to be even be a little stern on you after such honest praises.

Suddenly feeling a bit shy and tired, Yoichi buried his face in his hands. He knew for sure his face was red. And he knew how obviously weak he is for you. From the back of his mind, he could hear some familiar voices poking at him for being like this, but in the end there will always be a part of him that is so in love with you it becomes straight up stupid.

Maybe it indeed is so dumb and selfish, because as long as you are happy and it is a time shared with him, Yoichi probably wouldn’t really mind having to listen to you calling him an ‘unfashionable grandpa’ everyday.

He, more than anyone, understands how the two of you has dreams and life that took the two of you away from each other. And even then, Yoichi knows that that one part of him—one that always gaze at your sleeping figure silently, wondering how he could have this and why someone as wonderful as you is here by his side—is rightfully fearful of a ‘bad ending’. Yoichi knows you love him. Yoichi knows he loves you. Yoichi got called selfish, egoistic, self centered, and self serving many times already in matches, and that is exactly why—he knows himself.

If it’s for you—for every part of life you had given to him, for every part of you that he had fallen in love with—he is ready to be as selfless as he could.

Happily and gladly.

“Hey, you have been silent for a while now.” A pair of hands warped itself around him, meekly, as your head rested on his back. “…sorry. Was I too much? I made you overthink, didn’t I? You know I still love you, right? Even if you suddenly wake up as a wrinkly grandpa with creaking knees tomorrow.”

Yoichi laughed at that, still covering part of his face. “I don’t want to retire yet so that better not happen,” he replied lightly, going along with you.

“…you are not crying, right?” you asked, guilt written all over your tone. Yoichi tried and failed to held back a chuckle. So, accepting his fate as a lovesick asshole, he turned and pushed you to the sofa, laying his face down on your stomach as he settled in an uncomfortable position to hug you.

Yet, without paying any mind to his lower body that remained sitting whilst upper body rested on you, Yoichi said, “I’m not. How could I with you hugging me like this?”

“…really?”

“Really.”

“…should we really stay like this any longer though…?” you asked, eventually. “I’m worried for your hips.”

“I’m fine,” Yoichi said while nuzzling his face slowly to your clothes. “Just think of this as payback for bullying me.”

You scoffed lightly at that, “And you said you were fine.”

“Yeah, I am,” Yoichi said as he felt your fingers combed through his hair. So much for commenting his hairstyle. He made a note to tease you later, but for a bit longer—

“Just, let me stay here, okay?”

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #bluelock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #isagi fluff #isagi x reader #extra: yoichi will be taken to a shopping trip tomorrow. unwritten in this version of ending tho. still as smitten tho.#there is supposed to be on field isagi ver ending where yOU KNOW but yeah this is impulsive enough as it is #i can go on but tldr love live laugh yoichi heart emoji

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the-common-cowgirl · 6 months

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Greater of Two Evils -Part 3

Summary: When you’re unable to share your brother’s happiness, you end up in the hospital. All hope is lost when the greater of the two evils in your life comes to your “rescue.”

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen/Reader

Warnings: DD;DNE, Modern AU, Non-Con/Dub-Con (heavier on non-con), Physical Violence to Reader (choking, manhandling), Mentions of injuries to reader, Feelings of hopelessness, Elitism, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Proximity, Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Non-Consensual Arranged/Fabricated Relationship, Dom vibes, Rough/Painful sex, Unprotected sex

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Quick reminder that this is a dark fic! Reading dark fics in a modern setting can feel more real so please, read the warnings carefully before reading further!

Masterlist

A week passed with no so little as a text from Aemond. With your current condition, you weren’t sure if the silence on his end was a good thing or not. Sure, you looked up other options. A way out. A way to terminate the pregnancy… but then Aemond’s words loomed over you like a dark cloud. Coming back to you all at once, the second you even thought about escaping him.

“-your entire family and most of all, your brother is ruined. I have my finger on the trigger right now.”

What could you do? What should you do? Aemond hadn’t contacted you in over a week. Maybe he just wanted to scare you and leave? Forget about you. Oh Gods, you hoped he had forgotten about you.

Your brother nearly pranced into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a drink. From your vantage point on the couch, he looked happy, giddy. You tried to hide further behind your laptop, pretending to be busy with the schoolwork you should be doing and not stressing over anything.

Don’t give him a reason to be suspicious of you.

“Hey! Wanna hear some great news?” He interrupted your act at homework.

You sighed and shut your laptop on your lap, looking up to your brother with thinly veiled disdain. “Sure.”

If he noticed your discontent, he did not speak on it. “That trade deal, last week, remember? I was trying to get through parliament? It passed!” He smiled widely toward you, as if that was a reason you should be ecstatic too.

Your lips formed a crooked smile, trying to hide the fact that you did not care nor did you see the reason you should. “Huh, that’s great.” Then you remembered, a week expired memory of Aemond telling you that he blocked the trade deal flashed in your memory and your blood ran cold.

Why did it pass? What did he want now? Was I wishfully thinking this was over?

Your brother’s smile faltered, “Shouldn’t you be excited? That’s a win for us.”

He snapped you out of your spiraling dread. “Us?” You looked up to your brother, slight anger rising in your heart though you were too afraid to show it.

He nodded, moving closer to you, towering over you on the couch. “Look at what I’m doing for this family. Be grateful for my sacrifices. Do you know how many nights I stayed up past midnight trying to speak to my connections in parliament to get the trade deal to pass? Do you know what this means for us? For me?”

He speaks of sacrifices as if he was the sacrificial lamb I am.

You narrowed your eyes up at him, feeling emboldened by the anger bubbling up inside you. Your brother had no clue what it was like to sacrifice…anything. So he lost sleep? So what. You lost your sense of self, your dignity, your freedom. And again, all he lost was sleep.

“Honestly, I don’t care what a trade deal means for you. I don’t care how it’ll boost your standing in the company.” Your brother looked shocked at your words, you continued to glare up at him. “Because you don’t give a shit about me. I lost all respect for you when I realized you had none for me.”

Your brother stuttered, looking shocked. “I’ve given you everything. I love you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have a fucked up way of showing it-”

Before you could realize what had happened, your brother grabbed your wrist and painfully jerked you up to your feet, although, you were not prepared to stand and lost your footing once he let you go, falling to the group, hitting your head on the glass coffee table and shattering it underneath you. Your laptop that was on your lap fell amidst the shuffle and your weight landed on the top of it.

Once you realized what happened, you felt blood trickling down your head, wrist, forearm. Your brother paid no attention, leaning over you, so close to your face as he spat angrily, “You are nothing without me.” He grabbed the already bruising wrist and jerked your body closer, scraping along the glass. “No one in this family is anything without me. Never forget that.” His voice was low, possessive, demonic. He shoved your wrist away and walked from the scene he had caused.

You were left in the living room, trying to make sense of what happened and what you should do. You looked at the wrist he had grabbed, now turning purple and swollen. You felt the blood falling from your head to the white, fur rug that was underneath the shattered coffee table’s frame. You went through the motions numbly, standing up, grabbing your phone, laptop, walking into your bedroom and grabbing your wallet, stuffing those three belongings in your school bag and walked out the door.

You knew you needed to seek medical attention, feeling the faint sting of your wrist breaking the absolute numbness you felt, and alongside that stinging, you began to feel dizzy. You called an Uber, thankful the driver didn’t ask questions or speak as you stared ahead after directing him to Sunspear Foundation Hospital. You only answered the questions they needed to know, the nurses, remaining quiet when three nurses came in and asked you if you were in a domestic abuse situation, asking if you knew you were pregnant from the mandatory pregnancy test you had to take upon arrival. When the social worker came in, she asked if you were safe at home.

Were you? No. Did you tell them the truth? No.

A nurse knocked on the door, the sting in your wrist still painful as you were denied all pain killers due to your condition, instead, you moved to sit up, using the non-swollen wrist. “Come in,” you said meekly.

She stepped in, just barely, trepidation in her proximity. “Uh miss? I have a visitor here for you-”

You furrowed your brows at her, wondering who would even know you’re here-

Aemond appeared from behind the nurse and moved to thank her before shutting the door to your room and looking down at your bandaged self lying in a hospital gown. His remaining eye was hard to read, he was hard to read. He set you on edge and given what had just happened, you knew the monitor connected to your finger sensed your pulse quicken.

He glanced up to the rising numbers and decided then, to sit down next to you. Eye raking over your bandages without even a hint to what he was thinking, feeling. Being near him set you on edge. And the question you didn’t need answering popped in your mind.

How did he know I was here.

In theory, you knew. You knew he was well connected. You knew he had eyes on you. You knew that he always knew what you were up to. But here? Even at a hospital you couldn’t escape his eye.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was even, cold, deep. It terrified you.

“Um-” You began, for some reason wanting to protect your brother. It was unfortunately second-nature for you at this point.

“Don’t fucking ‘um’ me. Was it that wastrel you consider a sibling?” His voice was no longer even, it had an edge to it. It reminded you of the movies, when the man who loved the woman saw her hurt and was ready to kill for her given the word. It would have been romantic….if it wasn’t Aemond.

“Yeah,” you croaked, moving your uninjured hand to your bandaged wrist to play with the bindings. “He- He didn’t mean-”

“I don’t fucking care if he meant to or not, you’re not allowed there again.”

You looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time in a week. He was still in his suit. It looked like he had just come out of a parliament session. His hair was pulled into a low ponytail behind his head, only a few strands had been pulled out. His tie looked like it had been previously tight, now loose. He looked like he was slightly disheveled, not a usual look for him.

Did he drive all the way from King’s Landing once he found out I was in the hospital? Did he care about me? Was he worried?

You shook those ideas from your head as quickly as they came. Aemond was not a man to care about anything.

He’s worse than your brother. He’s another shark. You’re just another small fish in his pond.

“Do you hear me?” His voice cut through your thoughts, you hadn’t realized he had been talking. Blame it on blood loss or sleep deprivation at this point. Blame your attention span and your wild thoughts on both please. Blame both on anything but a sound mind. “You’re staying at my flat in Dorne until the wedding.”

You furrowed your brows, “No I’m not. I’m going home.” Blame your boldness on both too. Your heart sank as you realized what you had said, now growing anxious at the reparations you would pay for speaking back.

His eye remained neutral. “I’m not letting you go back there. Not after what he did to you.”

Why do you even care?

“Besides, It’ll give me more time to see you-” He tried to reach his hand up to grasp your uninjured one but there was another knock at the door. You told whomever it was to come in and Aemond’s embrace left your hand thankful as the doctor stepped into the room. She explained you had a sprained wrist, along with other minor cuts that would heal hopefully without scars thankfully to her using medical glue instead of stitches.

Finally, she smiled at the two of you as if you were a happy couple, giddy with joy at the prospect of a child. Maybe Aemond was…. But she told you that she went ahead and scheduled your follow up with a midwife in three days from now. “I know it’s a bit early for you to see them, but given the events of today, I’d like you to get started on your appointments with the prenatal care providers to ensure that both you and baby,” she pointed to your flat stomach underneath the hospital gown, it made you want to hurl, “are alright.”

She stood and shook your uninjured hand, then Aemond’s as he thanked her happily. She informed you both that the discharge nurse would be around quickly and you could leave then get some “much needed rest.” Dread pooled in your stomach as you realized you wouldn’t be able to rest where you were going, into the jowls of the beast.

The discharge nurse was quick, Aemond was quicker to help you out of your hospital gown (thankfully not bare to him as you kept your underwear and bra on), and he diligently, like an obedient and sweet partner, led you through the hospital, out into the warm night to where his black sports car sat parked. Even like a gentleman, he opened the door for you to sit. His engine roared to life, you glanced into the backseat, remembering the position he had you in a week ago on that leather fabric.

On top, pretending I was in charge, much like right now. Though, I’m never in charge right? It’s only the facade.

His flat was fifteen or so minutes from the hospital, maybe five from your brother's. It was big and spacious, much like your brother’s expensive flat. But where your brother had the flat furnished bright and modern, Aemond had his furnished dark, old academia style. It screamed “Old Money” and you nearly laughed at how drastically different Aemond and your brother were while also sharing a single central attribute; they were both terrible people.

“You are sleeping in here tonight,” Aemond walked through a doorway to a bedroom, assuming you would follow… and you did. You looked around the dark bedroom, a King sized bed in the middle topped with dark coverings. There was a bathroom and walk-in closet off of it. It was a master suite. It was Aemond’s room. He deposited your school bag beside the bed. “I see you didn’t bring anything but a broken laptop and your wallet. You’ll need clothes.”

You fidgeted with your clothes you had on now. They were comfortable, you could sleep in them but Aemond walked into the closet, turning on the light and stifled through his clothes. You knew he wasn’t going to give you space. He’d force you to sleep in the same bed with him in his own clothes. He owned you. He knew you were too scared to say one simple word: ‘no.’

He walked out of the closet with a large T-shirt. It had a band’s name on it. “Here,” he offered and you took it.

That was it… a t-shirt.

“In the morning, we can order you more clothes for here but for now, you can sleep in this.”

“Clothes for here.” He’s serious about me staying.

A chill ran up your spine, uneasiness rose in your throat.

Just for tonight, you told yourself. He can’t hold me captive.

You looked over at Aemond who disappeared into the bathroom. From your vantage point, you could see him stripping his fine clothes in the wall length mirror and folding his clothes and setting them atop the hamper. You thanked the Gods he kept his dark boxers on.

Or can he? Fuck. What will he do if I don’t stay?

The word stay echoed in your mind, remembering the time in your childhood where you were teaching your Northern Riverlands Waterdog to stay. He was one, you were nine. He’s dead now… he stayed, obediently; as you commanded… in the Riverlands until his death. Was that your fate with Aemond? Pliant? Agreeable? Quiet? Like an obedient hound?

As Aemond emerged back into the bedroom, towering over you, you gulped your fear down and the truth of it all came bubbling up.

If I don’t change, if I dont stick up for myself… that answer is yes.

“Are you going to change?” Aemond asked, breaking you from your haze. You looked up to him, briefly wondering if he heard your thoughts until you remembered the t-shirt you were grasping for dear life in your uninjured hand.

“Uh…yeah.” You stepped past him, making your way to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you, breathing a sigh of relief that Aemond allowed you to have privacy to change. You pulled your shirt off as quickly as you could with a sprained wrist, wincing slightly as the soft fabric of your shirt drug along some of the wounds that were bandaged. Your shorts came off easier. You kept your underwear and bra on and managed to get into his shirt. The shirt was large, you swam in it, however, it barely reached past your bottom and anxiety crept up your neck as you realized how much skin you were going to bare to his prying eye.

Slowly unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom, Aemond was already sitting in the bed, his legs hidden underneath the dark covers as his back rested against the headboard. He looked over to you, eye raking up and down your body as you stared ahead to the place next to him where he intended you to sleep. Your words to yourself came flooding back into your mind.

If I don’t change, nothing will.

“I don’t feel comfortable sleeping in your bed tonight.” You mustered up all the courage you could possess, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him. He only scoffed and threw the coverings over his legs off. Standing up and striding toward you like a predator and you, prey. You felt the urge to cower given the happenings of today but you fought the urge. Before you knew what was happening though, Aemond grabbed around your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You kicked against his stomach to no avail, tried hitting his back until you remembered your wrist was sprained and sharp jolts of pain shot up your arm. You croaked in pain, trying to grab your wrist instinctively but before you could grasp it, Aemond threw you into the soft plushness of the bed: where he intended you to sleep.

He moved to hover over you but you kicked up at him angrily. He dodged your foot, grabbing it mid-kick and gripped your ankle tightly, mirroring your brother several hours ago, yet not as harsh. He glared down at you, and you up at him. Emboldened by your fear, fueled by courage you were forcing. You wanted to spit in his face; you had half a mind to do it. Aemond glanced down, an idea flashing across his features and before you could act to defend yourself he reached down and ripped your lacy bikini bottom underwear from your core, exposing you now that the shirt was bunched up around your waist. He let go of your leg and stepped two paces backward, eye still drawn on you as he held your torn underwear in one hand. “Consider that your punishment for thinking, even for a second, I’d let you out of my sight.” Making you sleep without underwear as a punishment; what did that mean for you?

You scoffed and pulled the dark comforter over your lower half to cover yourself and Aemond started walking around the bed toward his side. “Seems like an easy thing to do considering you’re lacking half,” you mumble as you turn on your side, back to Aemond and pull the covers all the way to your neck.

“What did you say?”

Your blood runs cold, you hadn’t realized he had heard your snark but he did…and his tone was dangerous.

You feel the bed dip a split second before you feel his hand roughly grab your shoulder to pull you onto your back and face him. All your courage and anger wiped from you as you stare up, wide-eyed at his expression; one akin to hatred.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say.” He grits out between clenched teeth. You think momentarily that he might slap or punch you as a hand behind his head slowly raises but that notion in your head dissipates as the hand closes around your neck; constricting oxygen and blood flow. You reach up to remove his hand with your injured and uninjured hands, clawing at him but he does not move. Your head starts becoming light.

“I was going to be a gentleman tonight, give you the rest you so deserve… but it seems you’re in need of a lesson.”

You can barely register the words as your vision starts to become blurry. Just as you’re certain you’re about to pass out, Aemond releases your throat. You cough, sputtering up and drooling as your eyes glaze over in tears. You run a hand along your throat and the skin is painful to the touch. You’re unaware of Aemond as you try to recover your body from the blood and oxygen loss to your brain. You feel dizzy still, the feeling is not ebbing. Absent-mindedly, you try to sit up in search of a deeper breath and Aemond takes advantage of your upright position to rip his shirt off you, unclasping your bra and throwing it behind him, into the void of the room.

You feel his hands on your breasts and realize he’s still kneeling on the bed in front of you, slotted between your legs covered by the comforter still. You move to push his hands away from you but he grabs your wrists in one hand and pushes you against the bed.

“Be a good girl and take your punishment willingly. I might even give you some rest tonight if you’re good.” His fiery breath is on the shell of your ear and your eyes are screwed shut in pain as his grip on your sprained wrist sends jolts of torture through your body. You squeal hoarsely at it and he takes notice, releasing your wrists. “Keep your wrists above your head and that won’t happen again.” You nod without hesitation, thankful for the pain to begin to fade.

Aemond’s hand engulfs your right breast. You feel him kneading it in his large palm, then flicking his tongue against your nipple until it stiffens to a peak. His tongue is nice, soft and warm. Maybe if you thought about that, softness, you’d enjoy it - what’s to come. He moves to the other breast, repeating the action until both of your breasts appear to his liking. He sits back, marveling at your bare chest. “Open your eyes.”

You can’t do it, can’t obey. Your eyes remain screwed shut.

You hear him scoff, most likely rolling his eye as you feel him move just beneath the covers to the apex of your thighs and slapping you harshly on your bare center. You whimper and give in, opening your eyes. He’s clad only in his boxers, just as he was before he choked you but for some reason, seeing Aemond towering over you in only his boxers makes fear gnaw on your nerves. You look up from the tent in his boxers to his face. His remaining pupil is black now; he looks like a demon, here to steal your soul.

“I am going to fuck you,” he says simply, slipping out of his boxers and discharding them beside the bed. “You’re going to thank me for servicing you so well, understood?” You look down to the ruddy tip, leaking of precum, straining hard against his own skin; like a caged beast.

“Understood?” His tone was one of a teacher or a parent after scolding a child. You looked up to him and nodded; unsure if you didn’t want it at all or wanted him to shove that glorious cock into you.

No, no you definitely don’t want that.

“You’ll also thank me for giving you my lineage.” He moved the comforter from your lower half, exposing your entire body to him. “Not every woman gets to carry a Targaryen in their womb. You should be honored.” He slotted himself between your legs, bending them at the knee and spitting down to your core. This would have been a hot, passionate coupling if he hadn’t been Aemond and if he hadn’t just said what he did.

You pushed the back of your head deeper into the pillows, wanting to escape this hellscape as you slowly came to your senses. Everything came back to that fucking thing.

He ran the rigid edges of his cock along your pussy, up to your clit. It sent sparks along your belly but died before they could ignite anywhere else. Your fire was burnt out, any semblance of arousal died the second he reminded you that he put his semen inside of you and that it unfortunately took root.

His aching cock caught along your entrance and he pushed against your rejecting walls. You knew he was well endowed, the biggest you’d ever taken, but gods, you hadn’t realized just how large his cock was until you didn’t want it. Maybe the fact your walls tried to push him out made him seem larger than he was but you nearly screamed when the head of him pressed harshly against the wall of your cervix.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out slightly, only to push into your refusing cunt again. You whimpered against his second push. His body fell to encompass your own, burying his head into the skin of your neck, breathing his flames against your artery.

“You should really give in to me. It’ll make it a lot easier for you-”

“Why,” you bit out against his ear without much breath, “you’re going to fuck me anyways. Why do you care?”

Aemond raised, just enough for you to see his smirk and eye over your pained expression. “You’re absolutely right.”

His hips snapped harshly against you, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt cramping begin in your abdomen from how harshly he had begun to take you. “Gentle-” you pleaded as you screwed your eyes shut and pushed his chest with your uninjured hand. “Please.”

You heard him huff above you, “Why? Like you said, I’m going to fuck you anyway. Why should I be gentle for you when this,” He accentuated that word with a thrust that made your whole body freeze in pain. Your muscles when taut and he half-moaned. “This is what I want. How I need it. How I like it.”

You pushed harder against the smooth, solid planes of his chest, “I- I’m carrying your child-” It was the first time you said it out loud, first time you admitted to yourself the truth you couldn’t bear. Now, more than ever, felt like a great time to make it an excuse. “Please- be gentle with me.”

Your voice was so small, cracked with emotion as tears began to form in your scrunched waterline… but it got the message across.

Aemond stopped completely, still nestled inside of you. He felt your walls ease as he ran a hand up the curves of your body, stopping with his hand cradled along your ribcage. Your eyes softened until you felt the urge to look up at him through your tears. His expression was soft, contemplating over your nude figure.

He leaned down, taking your breast in his mouth, groping at the base near your sternum gently. You felt another hand more to your clit, gentle pressure moving along the pearl.

His sudden change surprised you but nothing caught you off guard more when his head moved up from your breast to your face and kissed your parted lips hungrily. Tongue slipping past your lips. It was awkward, you didn’t kiss him back, still shocked at his sudden change.

He pulled from your mouth, rutting gently now into your walls that had begun accepting him with his ministrations. “I’m sorry,” he kissed your neck, “you’re my delicate river. I do need to be careful with you.”

You furrowed your brows, looking sideways at him. Scared to speak but also so confused, “I’m not yours, Aemond.”

He smiled and kissed you again, hand moving down to your stomach. “You’re carrying a part of me inside of you. I’m with you, always. How are you not mine?”

You turned your head away, trying to escape the gnawing pleasure that was now betraying your body. Aemond moved his head to your hair; silver locks intertwining with the falsely dark locks of your own dyed head. “You’re so perfect. You always have been, haven't you?”

He angled his hips to brush against your spot, you felt your body betraying you, allowing him into your most intimate part now with grace and fever. Your walls relaxed completely, growing wetter and wetter. You felt your heartbeat quicken, perspiration began to pool on your forehead.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he tweaked with your nipple, “give in to me.”

“You’re a monster,” you breathed quickly between the pants you were trying to conceal.

“Y’know you love it. Even if I am.”

“You are.”

He hummed to himself, rising up and hitching one of your legs over his shoulder, reaching deeper than before. Still playing with your clit as his thrusts became quicker but still gentle. “Then what does that make you then, huh?” He smirked from above you, “Because gods- the way your cunt is starting to clench around me, I know you’re liking my cock, loving it. You love this extension of me, you wanton whore.” His words were brash, harsh…but he spoke in reverence. “Gods-” he moaned, “and I’ll teach you to not just love this extension of me, but all of me.”

You felt your peak nearing but not being able to reach the summit as his bed-room talk was absolutely insane. “I’ll never love you.”

Your breasts bounced along with his thrusts, he smiled down at them in reverie before his lone eye met yours. “Keep telling yourself that, my beautiful river. See who wins.”

He pinched your clit harshly and thrusted up into you with a gentle fever that had you tumbling over the edge. You saw stars as your back arched off of the bed. Body and mind betraying you as you gave in to him. Your cunt clamping down on his member and your blissed out expression, along with a half-scream you weren’t aware you made had him toppling over the edge, hips faltering in their pistoning as he shot his load against your already seeded womb.

Panting, he laid gently atop you, caging you in with his sweaty body as he came down from his high. His hand came up to caress your hair. He began planting sweet, chaste kisses on the side of your face. No, no they would have been sweet if they weren’t from Aemond but your mind dissociated as his softening cock still laid within you, his lips on your face, his hand in your hair…his child in your womb.

You kept thinking about what he called you, during the act.

“My beautiful river.”

At least he saw you for what you were. Your roots, your homeland, your personality.

A river flows, leaves where and who it once was, changes course, cuts through the land unapologetically.

You took a deep breath, staring into the abyss of Aemond’s dark room.

Be a river.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated but not necessary!

Taglist: @croatianprincess @toodlesxcuddles @drwstarkeyy @gemini-mama @iloveallmyboys s @boofy1998 @ammo23 @zenka69 @lokiofasgard12

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #aemond targaryen #smut #game of thrones #dark aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #dark smut #dark fic

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munsons-mutiny · 1 year

Text

Headcanon that next season it’s Steve not Jonathan who catches Will staring at Mike with patented Wheeler Longing. He knows that look, hell he invented that look.

And is very first thought is God Damn I’m just collecting Gays at this point.

He makes an effort to spend more time with Will when he realizes. While they’re all volunteering and just doing their best in the weeks after losing Eddie, he always tries to make sure Will knows he sees him.

As they get closer he starts taking wise cracks at El and Mike whenever they’re around, stupid sassy comments that never fail to make Will smile or even laugh. Eventually he even starts roping Will into teasing Robin for being hopeless with girls. (Robin is of course in on it and has approved being outed in this scenario, Steve would never have revealed it otherwise)

The first time it had happened Will had frozen up completely looking around to see who was listening, he looked terrified. But Steve just kept his reaction natural and Robin just rolled her eyes talking about all of his strike outs last summer. Their usual banter filling the space until Will could breathe again, could join back in to give Robin shit.

His smiles are even brighter after that, even more open, and sometimes when the three of them are alone he comments on a cute boy he saw, or really rants about Mike. Steve and him bond over Wheeler rants, even though Steve really is over Nancy now.

When shit inevitably kicks off again, Steve keeps an even closer eye on Will. He’s one of the people that he’s overprotective of now, and it’s the first time one of those people have been the focus of the enemies. Have had a target painted on their back. It has him so stressed already, that he hits his breaking point the day they encounter Kaz.

Not Eddie. Cause he’s not Eddie, not anymore. He nearly took a bite out of Dustin, and Johnathon had to restrain Mike to stop him from running to him. Only stopped fighting when Kaz grinned at him blood covered fangs and dead eyes.

It was a bad day.

They somehow all make it back to the cabin unscathed, and Steve has to keep it together. Has to make himself strong while Dustin falls apart in his arms, and Mike is pacing and shouting at anyone who will listen. Tears streaming down his face. He keeps it together for hours, til Dustin falls asleep against him, and Will finally got Mike to sit down and pass out. Only when he’s sure he can escape unnoticed, does he stand and let himself outside to the back of the cabin.

The second he’s there he collapses into sobs. Falls to the ground and puts his face in his hands to muffle them. Shakes with the effort of it all.

It doesn’t take long for an arm to wrap around him as he’s tugged into and awkward side hug. When he looks up it’s to see Will comfortingly just there as much as he can be. They sit silently for what feels like hours before Steve finally speaks,

“I’m sorry”

“Why on earth are you apologizing?”

“I can usually keep it together better than this, they need me to be strong right now.”

“Nothing about this makes you weak. This is such a fucked up situation, this is worse than just losing him. And I know how important he was to the party. Im sorry I didn’t realize how important he was to you” Steve just shakes his head at him,

“He wasn’t not really, I only knew him after everything started going down. Only really spoke to him a handful of times. And honestly I didn’t even like him!” Steve’s voice picks up hear going higher and almost frantic, “He was annoying! And touchy! He gave me so much shit, and was always all over me! He flirted constantly, and was totally insufferable, and honestly I’m pretty sure Dustin liked him more than me! And! And….” His voice deflates on the last and, the fight and anxiety going out of him, “I couldn’t get him out of my fucking head man.” Will almost cant believe what he’s hearing.

“Steve are you?- Did you?” He almost cant ask the question, figured Steve would’ve told him by now if he was. What with their little group of queers that Steve tends to watch over. Heck Robin had even called him the unicorn collector! Like he was separate from them!

Steve just shakes his head frantically, “No! Or yes? More like maybe” He just sights putting his head back in his hands, “ I don’t even know anymore, there had always been fleeting attraction to guys but never anything- real, never anything like this! And then- well, he was gone before I ever got a chance to figure it out. Before we ever got a chance.” And he looks small, defeated like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and Will can’t stand it.

“Well then we save him, we get him back, and you figure it out”

#so this is rough #and unedited #but just #Steve and Will being close please #and Will and Robin getting queer solidarity please #steve harrington #will byers #robin buckley #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #angst #Mike wheeler #he’s there’s for a second #Byler if you squint #they’ll get there #queer solidarity

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no-m4gic · 1 year

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Hi! I'm the anom who asked for the autistic reader and I loved your writing! So may I request the same THH characters but with a reader who's try to be the sunshine in their lives (example: help Chihiro to be himself), but is secretly depressed and hide It from them cause reader doesn't want to seem fragile?

Sorry If Is complex XD thx!

i have limited free time so i know im probably never gonna complete (another) request(s) today. also i discovered i have no idea how to write for hifumi and yasuhiro, so i'm gonna blacklist them and replace them with mukuro. felt like this request seemed like a good prompt for nagito and also i feel like i could replace ishimaru's one with komaeda's as an apology.

sorry if you wanted the girls too, i'll get on them as soon as i finish my work- i didn't have enough time to write for them. i'll write for ishimaru, too. sorry for missing a lot of characters!

p.s thanks guys for your support !! i appreciate it sm <33

that's a long title 😨

the tags are such a PAIN

~ mod sitaya

THH CHARACTERS W/ AN S/O WHO IS THEIR SUNSHINE BUT IS SECRETLY DEPRESSED

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"damnit s/o, why didn't you tell me earlier? you know i wouldn't judge you."

money = happiness to him, so he wouldn't fully understand your pain. he'll still support you though, if you need anything he'll send one of his workers to get it for you.

i mean if you were gone, yeah, he'd definitely be upset, so whenever he couldn't understand, he'll just imagine how he'll be like if you died or something.

he'll hire a personal therapist for you, unless you want him to be your therapist... which trust me, he is not good at.

bro can't even comfort anyone without making them cry more.

since he can't comfort someone psychologically, he'll comfort them physically, though he'll only show displays of affection at home or when you guys are alone, n e v e r in public.

honestly at this point, he won't give a shit if you stain his rich people clothes with your tears, he can buy the same new clothes again.

he's not that desperate, but can you imagine byakuya singing his s/o a lullaby?

not really, but he'll tuck you into bed himself personally if you fall asleep while sobbing your eyes out.

if you don't, he'll ask if you wanna fly out of japan for awhile, on his rich people private jet.

it's the least he could do to repay you for helping him during his dark times.

MAKOTO NAEGI

"s/o. how could you hide this from me? did you think i was going to criticize you...?"

he wouldn't ask the million questions running through his head first, he'd hold you first.

you come before anything.

he'll hold you for as long as you'd like, letting you cry in his shoulder while he rubs your back and pats your head.

since you helped him show the others he isn't an 'omega male' and also chased everyone who bullied him away, he'll return the favor.

he'll tell the teacher that you weren't feeling well and needed some time to rest in your room.

also he'll bring you your homework so you don't have to get it yourself and do tons of paperwork at once after coming back.

you don't need a therapist, you have naegi tell them as your therapist.

he'll listen to you go on for the entire day, and if you need to break down, you can jump into his arms and break down, using his shirt as a handkerchief.

MONDO OOWADA

"damnit... who did this s/o?!"

honestly he might just break down too.

but then he'll tell himself he's gotta be a man, with balls in front of his s/o.

he'll put his coat around you and hug you, telling you that it's alright and you can let everything out.

you can take that in any way.

he feels really guilty whenever he has to leave you for training or a competition.

but he'll always come back with a gift and your favorite takeout.

if you ever wanna cuddle, go find him. he'll be more than happy to have a reason to hold you.

daily compliments whenever you two meet up.

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

"s/o, it's okay. you're not hopeless, you're filled with hope, you still have so much more potential,"

he'll offer to accompany you to do some activities to keep your mind distracted and also to cheer you up.

something maybe like styling your hair and making it look ridiculous by putting tons of bright, glittery accessories on your hair.

he'd ask if sharing his own insecurities would help, maybe just so you know he has other countless insecurities than just him fearing showing the others he's a guy.

if making your hair look worse than junko's didn't cheer you up, chihiro would make up some stupid games like hop like a bunny into mondo's room or sing one of sayaka's songs outside makoto's room while he's showering.

speaking of sayaka's songs, he'll blast all her upbeat pop songs in the room and you two can dance your heart out.

LEON KUWATA

"i figured. now come here i'm gonna cuddle your sadness away!"

leon would definitely try to remain positive

the only good side would be that he could skip his daily weekday baseball training, since y'know he likes hates baseball.

but no, really, he'd have NO idea on how to comfort someone properly.

he'd ask what he could do to make you feel better.

as well as bring you out to get ice cream.

while you guys are out you may or may not encounter celestia's cat wandering around aimlessly... and bring it back to leon's room.

obviously you guys return her, maybe style her a little, watch leon get scratched by her and so on.

overall at least you recovered quickly and now everyone can see you smile again <3

BONUS ;; NAGITO KOMAEDA

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh s/o. you didn't have to hide it from me, hopeless trash like me don't have the right to judge hopeful people like you,"

well now it was his turn to have his clothes stained with tears.

countless outfits of yours have been stained with his tears, because whenever you'd return late (which was always) he'd think you left him or something, and the closest thing he has to you are your clothes.

he's clingy.

and he'll become clingier.

everywhere you go he'll follow you like a lost puppy.

lost puppy literally. he won't just follow you, he'll beg for your attention.

anyway... back to you, once you even mention you were upset he'd pull you into a tight hug.

imagine how long that tight hug would be with depressed.

verrrrrry verrry long.

he'd wish he didn't have to let go of you.

and he wouldn't. you'd have to literally wait for him to fall asleep just to work your way out his arms.

he'll shower you in compliments and bless you with encouragements.

if you wanted he could ask gundham for a cat or dog or something, or he'd blackmail gundham just to "borrow" the four dark devas of destruction for like 10 minutes before giving them back even though nagito would lie and say they'd forever be gone.

you want, he buy. literally, you just have to say "i want this" and you'll have it.

no more despair only hope.

IM SORRY ITS MISSING SO MANY CHARACTERS ANON 😭

#byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #togami x reader #makoto naegi x reader #makoto x reader #ishimaru x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #chihiro x reader #leon kuwata x reader #kuwata x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader

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anachilles · 19 days

Text

drive the dark clouds far away ☁

If anyone on Earth deserved tenderness, it was Gale Cleven. Throughout the years they’d known each other, he had dropped little morsels of his history into John’s lap, one piece at a time. It was almost off-hand, how he’d do it. Like he somehow hadn’t expected John to capture every one, savour them, commit them to memory and file them away in a special box in the back of his mind. To take them out as he did every so often and piece them together again, wondering about what young Gale had been before he was John’s ‘Buck’, so he had an entire landscape laid before him of what made Gale Cleven who he was. Or: Winter falls in Stalag Luft III, Gale's sick, and John has feelings about it all. -> read here on AO3 <-

A Nazi prisoner of war camp was hardly a place one would ever want to be, at any time or for any reason.

If Bucky had the choice, however, he sure as hell wouldn’t particularly choose to be in a Nazi prisoner of war camp in the middle of what was turning out to be a brutal Germanic winter.

It came on so suddenly, too, or at least that’s what it felt like. One day, the entire camp had been bathed in incandescent autumn sunshine. The kind that illuminated every leaf on every tree, lit the sky up so bright you could barely look at it, and sparkled off the surface of the puddles left behind from the early morning rain. The next day, and the next, and the next after that, it was like someone had gone and thrown a blanket over the sun itself. Everything was grey. Everything was dark. Everything around them started to wilt, to shed, to die.

For every degree the temperature dropped, for every shiver that raced up their spines in the dead of night, and for every dull, drizzly day that inched them through November and closer to Christmas, morale had started to plummet. It crept up on them and burrowed in like a degenerative disease, infiltrating their ranks one by one and slowly, gradually, started to break them down. Tired minds began to conjure bittersweet memories of good food, good music and the encompassing warmth of their families thousands of miles away, such imaginings only making their reality even starker. Anywhere at all outside the perimeter of the compound was beginning to feel like a whole other plane of existence.

At this point in the season, even the hours of daylight they were afforded were seemingly war-rationed. Dark moods, irritability and the icy tendrils of hopelessness had started to permeate the stalag as the sunsets came altogether too quick, and the daytimes were overwhelmingly bleak.

That night, Bucky shifted awkwardly in his bunk, trying to get comfortable in spite of the threadbare cushioning underneath him. It would have been pitch dark save for the slightest crack someone had left in the black-out curtains, letting moonlight spill in and make vague silhouettes out of the sleeping men around him. Several of them were snoring to various degrees of severity (God help them when Demarco properly got going), bed frames periodically creaking, someone even seemed to be humming slightly in their sleep.

The incessant background noise wasn’t the problem, though; the opposite, actually. From basic training, through flight school, then all the way to the war, Bucky had spent far too long now in shared quarters through every point in his military career to be able to sleep surrounded by absolute silence. In fact, if he closed his eyes and concentrated real hard he could probably have imagined himself being back in the barracks at Thorpe Abbotts right then, far, far away from this Kraut hell hole. Okay, the food wasn’t much better there, he’ll admit, but at least there was a stocked bar, actual showers, and no Nazi goons on a hairpin trigger when it came to pointing rifles at them for doing the sum total of jack shit too hard for their liking.

Bucky’s foot bounced in place as he stared a hole into the wooden slats of the bunk above him. Tension pulsed behind his eyes. When he exhaled, his breath materialised as a humid cloud, before dissipating again into the dark. Rain hammered against the window that was definitely draughty. His fingers were so cold they were starting to go white at the tips.

A sharp gasp suddenly pierced through the din, and in the same beat Bucky instinctively snapped towards it, the whirlpool in his brain suddenly stilling, sharpening down to a single point; like someone had ripped the plughole out of a bathtub. In the middle bunk directly across the way, in the shadows of the darkened cabin, the outline of Buck’s body jerked forward with a strangled little click… a pause… and then another. It was an oddly vulnerable sound, the action was chased by a heavy sniffle, and Bucky let out another long, visible breath.

With the insidious chill of deep winter now catching at their heels, illness was quickly becoming another looming problem with their fucked up sleep-away camp experience in the Glorious Third Reich. The often sub-zero temperatures, paired with a widespread lack of proper food, sleep, and provisions, as well as with them living on top of each other in such poorly built cabins (Bucky’d seen more insulation built into the damn backyard chicken coops he’d been roped into helping his neighbours build back home as a kid), meant that it was rife. Take a walk from one side of the camp to the other, and every third guy was coughing and spluttering with something.

It wasn’t even stuff that would necessarily be anything to worry about in any other time or place. Anywhere else in the modern age they lived in, it would be the usual winter crud that went around every year. Stuff that’d have them downing cough syrup, maybe a bit of hot whiskey, and being fussed over a bit by wives, girlfriends, or moms. Here, though? Despite how the men may joke about it to try and outrun the worry, lurking in a darkened corner of the room was an unavoidable reality that if the cold managed to sneak down into your chest and take root, lay you up with a fever you just can’t shake, in these conditions… well. Who knew what could happen?

There were some guys with a decent amount of medical training who acted as makeshift ‘doctors’ in a makeshift ‘hospital’ on site. Although, naturally as airmen, that leant more towards snapping back in dislocated shoulders, setting broken bones, and patching up bullet and/or shrapnel wounds well enough to get the victim to solid ground alive. There was little, if any, actual medicine to go around.

Before, it had been an abstract, underlying kind of concern, one he’d glance at every now and again before turning away, putting it out of his head again. Let himself be distracted by something else, not that there was much else to distract yourself with in here.

But then it was Buck.

Now, John’s body thrummed with a twitchy, nervous beat underneath his skin, some sort of momentum growing within him as his heart rate picked up and an internal debate played out in his head; one he’d been having with himself for several nights now. After only a handful of seconds from when he’d turned around in the first place though, there was another noise, something delicate and unplaceable. Whether it was the sound of teeth chattering or a stone rattling against the wall of the cabin, or whatever else it could be, it had John dropping down on his feet and gathering up his blanket, wincing as the chill of the room enveloped him all at once.

Crossing to Gale’s bedside, John wordlessly and unceremoniously chucked the blanket over the other man’s body, before leaning a hand against the wooden frame of the upper bunk above Gale’s own. He was curled up tight in on himself, arms stiff as they crossed over his chest, as if he was trying to gather any heat to be had around himself and keep it there by force.

John watched, and waited, as Gale sluggishly unfurled himself a little and turned around to face him, expression sleepy. His face caught the moonlight, something jarring in John’s chest at how pale he looked.

“Bucky?” he asked softly, his already rumbling voice now gravelly and shot to pieces. “Did I wake you?”

Unable to help himself, John heaved out a disbelieving huff of laughter, his voice dropping into a murmur “What, with your bizarre, near-perfectly silent sneezing? Yeah, you did, actually.” Gale rolled his eyes.

“Please, just try to be a bit more considerate to the other guests at this fine establishment.” Success curled fleeting warmth within John when he got a hint of a smile out of the other man. It was the first he’d seen from him in nearly two days, and the twitch of his mouth alleviated an increment of pressure in John’s chest he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding. “God bless you, by the way.”

It would’ve sounded like a taunt if it wasn’t so fond.

“What do you want then, Bucky?”

In pursuit of cutting to the damn chase, because this was all fun and games but now John really was freezing his balls off, he replied “It’s too cold now for any of us to be sleeping by ourselves.”

At that, Gale’s rheumy gaze sharpened, his eyes scanning the room. John briefly followed them as they took in nearly every other man in the cabin having broken off into a pair to bunk down with for the winter.

“It’s okay, Buck,” John supplied, loosening the valve and letting sincerity bleed into his tone even as he lowered it. This is probably the most ‘okay’ we’ve ever been or ever will be to do this where people can see it.

Memories rise unbidden then; awkward, inexperienced fumbles and a hurried kiss in the barely-lit supply closet off an aircraft hangar in Texas while all the other cadets were asleep. Hidden away in Bucky’s short-lived Air Exec office while he still had it, a rare moment of stolen solitude behind a blessedly locked door with frosted windows. The one time they’d dared risk venturing into the woods at Thorpe Abbotts in the dead of night. They were more experienced by then, but somehow only more repressed and desperate for having now known the other’s touch, but having had to go without it for so long.

“Those RAF pricks were right about one thing for certain.”

“What’s that?”

“You were getting too handsy” Gale had said, voice edged in grit, grabbing John’s wrists and yanking them away behind his back.

In the next breath however, John shrugged, adding “And, well, you have my blanket now. So you either scoot over, or I go back to my bunk and freeze to death. Your choice.”

Gale levelled him with a withering look that only made John want to smile in return, but after a brief contemplative moment, a pregnant pause and a steely gaze edged in wary scrutiny, the caginess seemed to melt out of him, like he physically couldn’t hold onto it any longer. He acquiesced with no more fuss about it, shifting closer towards the wall and pulling up the blankets to invite John in. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, these bunks barely made to fit one fully grown man, never mind two, but suppose that was kind of the point of this, wasn’t it?

John hopped up onto the bunk, the wood groaning slightly under their combined weight, and took the liberty of adjusting Gale a little further onto his side so that he could bracket right in tightly to his back. The length of Gale’s body seemed to slot perfectly against the curve of his own. Back to chest, thigh to thigh, shin to calf. As if by muscle memory, underneath the blankets John’s hand traced a reverent trail down the length of his side, the feeling warm and honey-sweet with familiarity. As was the way he felt Gale relax into his touch, his head turning a tantalising fraction of an inch back towards his face. John’s next exhale came more comfortably than any had in weeks, despite how his heartbeat kicked a little bit harder against his ribcage. Tracing upwards from where his hand had wandered to Gale’s thigh, because he’s nothing if not a goddamn hedonist, John indulged himself with another handful of stolen seconds to touch, to rub and knead affectionately at the curve of Gale’s waist.

This place was hell. A labyrinth of endless days filled with grey, bleak, monotonous nothingness on top of a vague, torturous hope that one day will be the right one; that that day they’ll escape. Or be liberated. They’d been keeping up to date with the state of the war on their homemade contraband radio, listened to and dutifully recited by Gale every night as they forced down boiled garden scraps swimming in dishwater broth. They couldn’t be long now from the invasion of Europe, they tried to reassure each other. It proved enough to get the men out of bed every day and keep them going through the drudgery.

John, though; if he had this. If he had Buck solid and tangible and living and breathing before his eyes and underneath his fingertips, he’d find his way out. The embers that sparked to life in his chest with the feeling of just being near him would light his way out.

A shallow cough sounded from somewhere across the room, and John’s hand froze, even under the shroud of the blankets. Despite arguing the logic of this himself only minutes ago, of why it was ‘okay’, the sudden reminder of the ambient presence of the other men in the room amplified then. John couldn’t help but be aware of it, a shred of unease fluttering to life in his chest.

Swallowing it down, and simply unable to truly pull himself away anyway, he retired his wandering touch and looped his arm around Gale’s middle. His broad hand splayed wide across his chest as he brought the other man impossibly closer. John could feel just how cold he was, even through the fabric of his clothes. That was worrying enough in and of itself, but shock jolted through him like lightning as Gale’s hand brushed his own.

“Jesus, Buck! You’re like ice,” John ground out, reaching to grab it before Gale could move it away again. He knew he likely wasn’t much better, all-too-aware of the pervasive and unshakable chill infecting his own fingers. Whatever last vestiges of warmth he may have had remaining within himself though, hidden away in some forgotten or unreachable nook or cranny, he’d give to Gale in a heartbeat if he could. Even if he couldn’t, he’d try regardless.

Gale’s fingers flexed around his own, joining them, before bringing them up to his mouth and huffing a breath of hot air over John’s hand. The breath caught a little in his throat though, triggering a bubbling of thick, stilted coughs. “You are too.”

John laughed, but there was no humour in it. “Yeah, no shit. We all are…” he said, his tone softening then, even as he prodded the back of Gale’s knee with his own “...but you’re sick. So I’d argue it’s definitely more important to make you not so.”

He felt Gale’s body squirm a little uncomfortably in place against him, shaking his head a little, tilting it down. “It’s just a cold, John.”

“Yeah, for now. But you don’t…” The whispered words fall between them with a heavy clang, echoes of meaning slipping through where maybe they hadn’t been intended. John’s eyes were trained on the back of Gale’s head in the dark, his forehead resting on the other man’s golden crown. Even then, John felt more than saw him stiffen, then pull away as much as he physically could from John’s vice-like hold. He pitched forward with two more clumsily pinched back sneezes, grumbling in annoyance as he then groped underneath the pillow, eyes teary and nose dripping, for the now-worn handkerchief he’d been holding there.

Yeah, it wasn’t exactly convenient, particularly at a time such as this, that they all tended to only have the one on them that they’d had when they went down.

Oh, it was so uncharacteristically inelegant it was actually endearing. A peek behind the curtain at Gale Cleven, the mere mortal. Happy to let himself be sidetracked from his worry for a moment, John dipped into one of the inner pockets of his long coat and pulled out his own handkerchief, gallantly offering it over.

Gale’s head swivelled back, his gaze questioning, and John shrugged. “It’s clean, I promise,” he said, though his eyebrows drew together in sudden contemplation. “Well… mostly. I might’ve washed up with it earlier today…” He made a show of trailing off, pulling the collar of his sweater up over his face and taking an experimental sniff down into it. “Ah, no, definitely not, actually. You’re all good.”

Thoroughly used to his antics, Gale didn’t even blink, though his chapped lips did pull up into a fleetingly small, slow, reluctant sort of smile, before eventually taking it from him. He let the fabric linger in his fingers for a mysterious extra beat, his thumb swiping once over it, before putting it to use. When he did speak, his voice was completely mangled with congestion. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Probably would have taken it anyway.”

John winced, the levity leaking back out of his countenance like a faulty fuel line. “You sound awful, Buck,” he mumbled seriously, “C’mon, lie back down.”

Though he dismissed the concern with a telling look, Gale complied and they fell into an easy sort of silence. Their breaths, underlined by the tangible rise and fall of John’s chest against the other man’s back, fell into the slow, steady rhythm held by the rest of the room. Even after a handful of minutes he could tell Gale wasn’t sleeping, though. Neither was he, evidently, feeling like a live wire despite how exhausted and perpetually bone-weary his body had become. He was tired, probably needed to sleep, but at the same time didn’t want to miss a second of their contact now that they had established it. He didn’t want to close his eyes, open them again, and it be morning time again so damn soon, that chasm of emptiness in the space between them returning all too quickly.

If only to give himself something to do, have somewhere to put that gnawing awareness, John gave into temptation. Ducking his head, he pressed his lips to the nape of Gale’s neck. Just once, at first. Experimental; his eyes flitting up briefly to catch Gale’s reaction. With the sight of his lips dropping further open around a sudden inhale he tried to conceal, John took the silent approval and continued in his work. One kiss here, another one there, he marked a languid trail down the column of Gale’s neck and back up again, an answering shiver racing up the length of his spine when John’s mouth teased that one little spot under the hinge of his jaw. It was addictive; and what was Bucky Egan if not an addict?

Having thoroughly surveyed all that he could reach, John’s hand slipped down and palmed at Gale’s hip, urging him to turn back over and face him. When he did, his cheeks were flushed. His eyes still heavy, but now with pupils blown and trained right on him. They pinned John in place, made the cabin, and the camp, and all of Germany, all of Europe itself disappear around him. As if pulled by magnets and with the weight of the last couple of months bearing down on him, John moved to kiss him properly. His eyes snapped open when his mouth met the soft pressure of cold, unyielding fingertips, mere centimetres from the IP.

There was something brittle now in Gale’s gaze when John looked again, that feeling scooped back up and the lid put back on the jar. It still shone through though, muted but simmering away under the surface. Behind the shield of darkness and John’s broad body, Gale’s hand twisted, cupping John’s jaw as his thumb delicately swiped across the seam of his lips. “You’re gonna end up getting sick with me lying here breathing in your face all night.”

John let out a huff of annoyance, exaggerated maybe just a little bit in the hopes of making Gale smile again. “No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

Despite his amusement at the childish back and forth, John relented, changing course. “Okay, well, if it’s doomed to happen anyway I’d rather it was from you than any of the rest of these clowns, so…” He peeled Gale’s hand from his jaw, his phantom touch lingering in a way he hoped remained corporeal right through until the morning at the very least. In the same fluid movement he turned it around and mouthed his knuckles, then with a heart so full it could’ve burst right out of him, leaned in, slowly, carefully, kissed him anyway.

Oh, he could feign all the long-suffering exasperation he wanted to, but John knew the truth of the matter in how the tense lines of the other man’s body loosened under his hold then, how he nudged himself closer in the new position to close out any hint of a gap and the biting chill that could and would find its way through.

God knew he needed it, too. John wasn’t sure if it was just him that noticed the trail of signs left in Gale’s wake wherever he went throughout the day, subtle or not, that gave away just how crappy he was feeling. Sitting in the same room as the rest of them but far enough away at any given point. The way he’d pinch the bridge of his nose, presumably against the pressure there and the ache behind his eyes. How his chest sometimes seized with the need to cough that had been swallowed back. How he’d been keeping it all held back behind a tight jaw and clenched teeth, a brave face on for the sake of their men and the general morale. Whether he’d choose it or not, Gale knew he was a symbol, much like John, much like any other group’s commanding officers. He had a responsibility.

Now, though, in whatever new strange semi-privacy they’d stumbled upon and could seemingly kid themselves for a few hours they were alone within, it started to crumble.

In the extended silence, with sleep still out of reach, John couldn’t help but reflect on all of that. Right down to the very position he’d found him in when he gathered the nerve to approach his bunk, Gale was so damn protective of himself. Fiercely so, at times, that stoic, guarded veneer serving as a concrete wall between himself and the sometimes inexplicable chaos of the world. When they first met, oh so many moons ago now, John had been tempted to simply assume he lived with a stick up his ass and leave it at that.

Maybe it was because he was pretty in a way that his teenage self didn’t quite have the vernacular to understand yet, maybe it was the quiet echo of his mom’s voice in the back of his head scolding him about not judging a book by its cover, maybe it was divine intuition. But whatever it was, Bucky would thank whatever may have been out there in the sky looking down on them that, for whatever reason, he’d chosen instead to throw all of his chips in on Gale Cleven and insist on knowing him anyway. To push and prod and tease and question and irritate and somehow charm his way into the other boy’s life, into the most genuine, heartfelt friendship he’d ever had, and then further into, well, this. One that allowed him to pull on the thread of the image of himself that Gale presented to the world, bit by bit, without reprisal.

Throughout the years they’d known each other, Gale had dropped little morsels of his history into John’s lap, one piece at a time. It was almost off-hand, how he’d do it. Like he somehow hadn’t expected John to capture every one, savour them, commit them to memory and file them away in a special box in the back of his mind. To take them out as he did every so often and piece them together again, wondering about what young Gale had been before he was John’s ‘Buck’ and how he wished he could’ve been there for him, so he had an entire landscape laid before him of what made Gale Cleven who he was.

If he was stubborn and headstrong and fiercely protective of himself, fine. He had every right to be; had made himself that way out of necessity. Thinking about the circumstances of how and why made John’s heart ache something stupid just to think about, so he made a point to try not to.

If anyone on Earth deserved tenderness, it was Gale Cleven. For having taken the shitty hand life had dealt him and still come out the other side so kind and compassionate, to have taken all the hurt and the loneliness, bottled it up, and somehow turned it into white-knuckled determination to do better with himself. For having made his life something, even if his ambition was originally rooted in defiance against what had been laid out for him. For having the hordes of men in the squadron he presides over look upon him with deferential reverence, for giving them hope by making himself look invincible. Truly uncatchable, even despite having been caught.

If it ever got to be too much, though, especially in here, where home seemed so far away, and the idea of safety such an abstract, unreachable concept, Bucky would shoulder it. Without a second thought, every time. Gale Cleven deserved tenderness, and by hell was John Egan going to do everything he could to give it to him.

John had his moments when he let the darkness in; indulged in thoughts of disillusionment, found himself questioning any number of aspects of what they were doing, how they were doing it, and for what. One thought always ended up shing through the murky din though, a guiding light that pretty much always managed to pull John back in its direction. Back on path.

So long as he and Gale Cleven were on the same side, he knew he was in the right spot.

“Bucky?” His voice reached out, barely there and so soft John could’ve denied even hearing it at all. “You still awake?”

John’s eyes fluttered open, readjusting to the dark again as he blinked away the cobwebs from the sort of half-sleep he’d drifted off into. He hummed in affirmation. “What d’ya want then, Buck?” he echoed from earlier, chucking the other man’s own words back at him with a teasing, heavy-lidded smirk.

The question hung still and charged in the air between them as Gale hesitated, teetering on the brink of losing the nerve to ask whatever it was he wanted. Surely he should know by now, with John being the blatant and irredeemable sucker that he is, could ask quite literally anything of him and he’d find a way to grant him it?

Gale looked like his mind was half somewhere else, eyes unable to fully meet John’s own, and still seemingly debating whether to continue or not right up until the moment the words left his lips. “Y’know what, um… what this needs right now?”

John’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

When it came, it came small and vulnerable. “...vocals,” he said, before catching himself, the word ghosting across John’s chin. “Very, very quiet vocals.” Gale’s hand wound around John’s back, before slipping up the back of his shirt to flatten against John’s freckled back.

John couldn’t help the smile unwinding across his face, eyes sparkling in the dark with sudden mirth. “From me?” he questioned, infused with faux-disbelief. He made a show of pressing the back of his hand up under his dirty blond bangs to Gale’s forehead, half-teasing about checking for fever, but breathing a very real sigh of relief when he found little evidence of one yet.

“I mean, I did always say you would all eventually come around and see me for the true musical talent that I am. I’m just glad it’s finally being acknowledged, so I won’t hold the delay against you.”

Gale rolled his eyes, though it drew a smile out of him at the same time, even so.

He may have had no hope of being privy to all that went on inside Gale’s head, despite knowing all the important coordinates and the routes to get there. But he could see the sickbed request for what it was, the reminder of where they’d come from. A tether to an old life that felt sickeningly distant now, lost in the soupy abyss of the camp. A yearning for something familiar; anything. He sees just a hint of Gale’s impatience, his growing frustration at their situation and the longing for home, and it fractionally lightens the loads bearing down on John’s own chest. That for all his calm, careful control on the surface, it was confirmation that he felt it too.

Catching them both by surprise, and with grumbled curse, Gale twisted away with another desperate sneeze, newly acquired handkerchief hastily raised. Newly, and sort of relievingly, unrestrained, the harsh sound echoing off the walls of the small cabin.

Uncharacteristically flustered and with an apology quick on his tongue, Gale immediately moved his entire body so they were chest to back again, and he was facing the wall. “Right, that’s it. I’m turning back around.”

“You do whatever you need to get comfortable, and I’ll ahem, warm up,” he replied through a smile, the dismissal of the apology silent but palpable.

Gale fell asleep that night to the soft, dulcet tones of Blue Skies butchered in his ear. Despite the cold, despite the illness, it was the easiest sleep since he’d arrived.

The next morning, Douglass and Hambone were the first to reluctantly extricate themselves out of bed, it being their turn to do the first water run of the day and collect the cabin’s assigned jugs. Once they were outside, confident in being completely out of earshot, the gossip flowed freely.

“Jesus, you’d think Cleven and Egan gab enough to each other during the day, now they’re going to be at it at night too?!”

#masters of the air #clegan #buck x bucky #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #HOOOOO BOY #first fic for this fandom/pairing #we're really in it now boys x #my writing

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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 3 months

Note

Drabble request (feel free to say no :) )

(Comic) due to the after events of the book, Ambrosius is in the hospital and feels horrible, physically and mentally, and the treatments they are giving him are making him sick and very anxious, so he asks ballister to visit him in hospital, and plays the whole “hopeless romantic” so that he stays and Ambrosius feels better, but ballister can see right through it, and doesn’t want to admit it, but he visits him anyways.

Yippieee!!! Loved this request as I'm working on a longer Ambrosius Hospital Fic rn \(^^)/

I currently still have one req still in the works because I'm struggling to get it started, but it is on it's way! Anyway I hope you enjoy this drabble :,)

Ambrosius groaned softly. He had no idea how long he'd been here. The doctors said it had been four days, but he didn't really believe that. The painkillers and heavy antibiotics– and maybe also the brain injury– made time melt together. All he ever really looked forward to were visits from Ballister. Ballister had visited him often when he was still hospitalized, but he was discharged at some point.

Not like he had any reason to visit Ambrosius. Fuck. Everything was such dogshit. The Institution, the thing he dedicated his whole life to, was gone. The King to whom he swore allegiance was dead. Not that any of that mattered, he'd already been demoted to a grunt rank in the Institution because he fucked up at doing the only thing he was supposed to be good at.

Nobody respected him. Nobody liked him. Certainly nobody loved him. And on top of that, he felt nothing but pain and nausea and confusion all the time. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to vomit, but he did it often. The antibiotics were tearing his guts apart. The beta blockers made him even more weak and exhausted than he was already. The painkillers disoriented him and didn't even seem to do much, and also worked together with the anticonvulsants to make him sick as a dog. He couldn't help but wish that Ballister had just left him in that facility to be disintegrated instantly.

Why did Ballister save him if he wasn't even gonna be here? Was it just to punish him? What was going to happen to him after all this? With no job, unable to walk, unable to see out of one eye, no home, he'd end up back on the streets. He was terrified and woke up crying constantly. He wanted his Ballister here. He wanted Ballister to hold his hand and kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be okay. As if he had any claim to Ballister at all.

Eventually he couldn't take it anymore, and he weakly dialed the number in his phone.

–

Ballister had been a wreck ever since he was discharged. He felt guilty about Nimona and Ambrosius and the town and everything. He wanted to be there for Ambrosius, who at this point was all he had left, but in addition to the pain and mixed feelings he suffered whenever he was around, he feared his presence didn't even help. Whenever he sat with Ambrosius, the man looked so guilty and miserable he couldn't meet his eyes. Making Ambrosius feel like shit about himself certainly wouldn't aid in his recovery. Plus, being in hospitals was more than a little triggering for him. He didn't like to see the pain from the worst day of his life reflecting off Ambrosius's face.

But standing around this empty warehouse, without Nimona's snark or laughter, barely felt like anything either.

He jumped when his phone rang with Ambrosius's number. “Hello?”

“Hiii…” the voice on the other end was weak. “I've missed you, darling.”

Ballister cleared his throat. “Ambrosius, you should be resting.”

“How can I possibly rest without you here? I'm sick and in dreadful shape, and the object of my affection isn't even here to distract me with his handsome face.”

Blushing, Ballister looked down. More guilt, fun. Obviously he was high as a kite while also being at rock bottom. It was obvious what he was doing. He was playing it like he was being cute and flirty, but he was groveling. He was prone on the floor groveling for Ballister’s attention. For him to be there, to hold his hand.

“My darling, if only I could hear your voice and see your face, I certainly would feel better. If you're not busy, that is.”

Ballister snorted. He never could resist Ambrosius's begging.

He arrived at the hospital an hour later, and he swore a blue light flickered behind Ambrosius's eye when he saw him. “You came!” He smiled as broadly as he could without ripping the stitches in his cheek.

“Of course, I couldn't leave my… my beloved gentleman caller all by himself, could I?” He smiled and took his hand. Ambrosius squeezed it.

“I'm happy you're here.” His voice was exhausted. His face said so many things his mouth couldn't.

Ballister stroked his hair. “I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to be afraid.”

“If I go to sleep, will you stay? Will you hold my hand until I wake up?”

A lump caught in Ballister's throat. “Of course I will.”

#nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #nimona graphic novel #ballister blackheart #ballister x ambrosius #nimona fanfic #blackloin #fic request

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

Text

Arcana HCs: How the M6 cry and how MC comforts them

Asra

He's been through some shit

Adapts so. Quickly. to difficult things, and runs away from what he can't. (His little haven when he was homeless as a kid? Immaculate. When the apprentice didn't remember him? Lots of trips.)

Only cries when he can't do either of the above and there's no option but properly feeling the emotions (he hates that)

Surprisingly messy crier, red faced, fluids everywhere, bloodshot eyes, twisted face

Hates being vulnerable in front of anyone/at all, but if it's reached this point they don't care anymore, he's being suffocated by all the things he's worked around/avoided

Would try to cheer himself up/snap himself out of it/get distracted except the only way out is working through it until everything's been acknowledged and they know that

How the MC comforts them:

Physical touch. Asra's already a cuddly person, if you put your arms around him and give him something to hold on to (hand/clothing/you, depending on your comfort level) he'll hang on like it's a lifeline

Loud sobbing/hiccuping as soon as they realize it's safe for them to hurt and they're not alone

MC is their anchor to reality/grounding

Maybe asking questions so he can have words for what they're feeling, but maybe they just need to know he's not alone through whatever they're reliving

Once it's all worked out they don't want to dwell on it and are tired out, he just wants to move on to the next thing

"How about some tea, MC? You stay there, I'll make it for us."

Uses the break to collect themself a little

Tells you tall tales until you've both got the giggles

Naptime

Will walk around like a weight's been lifted off his shoulders for the next 24 hours

Julian

Champion of crying

This man cries like he breathes, Malak was an asshole/his favorite shirt tore/Pasha did something that reminded him of her as a toddler, the tears are out and proud

Surprisingly tidy crier, he has a special handkerchief and knows how to use it

Knows how much dramatic potential tears have and takes full advantage of that

Unashamed of emotions and unafraid of his feelings, MC is starting to wonder if they are even needed

Until it's about something serious

Maybe he lost a patient or saw someone who looks exactly like his dead grandmother, maybe he can't shake the dread of the plague coming back, maybe someone was teasing him and touched on a really deep insecurity and he's internalized it for weeks until it wove itself into all his trauma but he doesn't know how to say that with words so he sits with a growing amount of pain that he isn't sure exists and doesn't know how to unravel

When this happens he isolates

He'll wait until midday and everyone's out to climb into the hole under Mazelinka's cottage and choke on his sobs

Curled up as small as he can get with his hands pressing into his eyes

How the MC comforts him:

Getting right up into his space to pull him out of his head

Maybe some lighthearted grumbling about him picking the worst places to have a crisis in, but climbing into the hole anyway

Talking it out. Somehow MC is always able to unravel his thoughts, help him sort through the reasons behind his feelings, bring a new perspective to something that seemed hopeless

The longer you two talk the smaller the problems become until they're back to the size they were before they entered his brain

Julian's feelings are both intense and quick to change

By the time you've worked out 2 of the 3 problems, he's got ideas for a new play based off of the first problem and he wants you to star in it with him

Too excited about his new passion to sort through the 3rd thing, but don't worry, that can sit and fester until next time

Nadia

She doesn't cry. Seriously. She doesn't. She must show No Weakness.

More likely to express sadness through a secondary emotion like frustration or annoyance

Does not cry until someone will logic her into it (refer to her conversation with the high priestess, when she had to stop thinking about the next step and actually ask herself what she desired and why)

MC is one of the only people who knows her well enough to logic her into it, therefore MC is one of the only people worthy of witnessing her crying

Frustrated crier to relieved crier, first she's angry that she's even crying in the first place, then she's relieved that she finally gets to let it out and reach the realizations that she needs to

Frustratingly composed, no snot to be seen, only tears silently rolling from the corners of her eyes

Maybe a few quiet sobs

Crying for her is a moment of acknowledgement and breakthrough, it's almost sacred

How the MC comforts her:

Little to no touching, she wants to know you're there, but she doesn't want to be coddled and she's working very hard to do something so uncomfortable/unnatural

Seeing you helps, as long as MC is in her line of sight she can do this

Since this likely started in a conversation, she'll want to tell MC what she is thinking and feeling because you started it

You'll pay attention, reacting so she knows you're listening and understanding and ready to follow through with whatever she's figured out

Somehow she is refreshed and energized afterwards

No time to waste, let's take the first steps of the plan she's made based off of what she's figured out

MC is going to be publicly acknowledged and showered in gifts for the next month

Muriel

Surprisingly comfortable with crying, though it only becomes a semi regular occurrence after MC becomes a regular part of his life

This wonderful hulk is the king of dissociation, learning how to live inside your body again is tough but he's way more frightened of his memories than he is of his feelings

He has two types of crying, he's either grieving the family and community he lost or he's stuck in the coliseum again

The first kind is kind of bittersweet, he'll happen upon some forget-me-nots in the forest or he'll be tracing the pattern on his cloak and he'll feel the whispers of his family there and he'll have this wave of homesickness for something he can't even remember properly

He'll cry like a summer rain, with a small smile on his face, completely silent while he continues with whatever task he was working on

The second kind is way way worse

There's no sweetness to this, he snapped a branch too hard or his hair fell in his eyes or he stepped on a sand patch of ground, and he's whisked right back

Each time he remembers a different face

He's reminded that he's stuck in a body that crushed people and he feels sick

The kind of sobs that leave you retching

All he wants to do is escape

How the MC comforts him:

If it's the first kind, hand holding. Maybe reminiscing about meeting Khamgalai and the patterns in the tapestries he's collected

Helping with whatever task he's doing, and talking about plans for the rest of the week once the wave passes

Second kind? All hands on deck

He doesn't want to be touched. At all

Get him somewhere that feels safe and wrap him up in some of his furs

Get the whole place smelling of mrryh

Slowly help him work his way back to the present

So many words of affirmation, dude needs to be told it's not his fault and he's done far more good than harm

He needs to eat and sleep after this

Will tend to your every need for the next week. Breakfast in bed. Footrubs. A growing collection of protective charms and carved animals. Will only stop when you start insisting on repaying every favor.

Portia

Angry crier

Half the time it's Ilya's fault

You totally use that to blackmail him

Portia always has at least four different trains of though running at all times, full speed

She is so determined to see good in the world that it takes a mountain of nasty things to bring her down

Unfortunately she's so busy that that happens often enough to sometimes break her spirit

Which is heartbreaking, her spirit is goddess-tier

This only happens when she's dealing with enough to cause every negative emotion: frustration, anxiety, anger, regret, hopelessness, inadequacy, etc

Eventually she reaches her limit and drops everything and runs away somewhere more secluded (most likely her garden) to let it all out

Rage gardening

Ripping every weed out of the ground until her fingers bleed while she grinds her wails through her teeth

Accidentally smacks a concerned Pepi in the face with a flying tangle of vines and breaks down bawling

How MC comforts her:

Starts by grabbing her hands and holding her close so she can sob into your clothes

Bring her into the cottage once she's ready and clean and bandage her fingers

Encourage her rant while you perform every act of service available (do her breakfast dishes, pull out a change of clothes for her, detangle her hair, sweep the floor, lure Pepi into her lap with a treat so they can make up)

She spends all day being one of the most competent people in the room in service to everyone around her, let her put her feet up and describe her feelings in every curse word she knows in multiple languages

Have a bath drawn for her when she's done

Contact whoever you need to (Nadia) while she's in the bath to make sure she has the rest of the day/the next day off

Take her on an adventure that reminds her just how incredible she is, and hopefully shows off some good in this world

Maybe you go down to the rowdy raven and get her to dance on the tables with you

Maybe you go into the woods for some magic lessons

Maybe on your way to do either of those things you bump into something entirely unprecedented and let her take the lead

You are going to receive cuddle attacks every time she lays eyes on you for the next few days

Lucio

Lucio generally only cries when the weight of everything he's done finally catches up with him and he can't blame someone else or brush it off

Probably good for him, tbh

But he's so used to living in the moment he doesn't know how to look forward

Regret can quickly turn into despair when he feels trapped in everything he's done

He knows his bravado doesn't mean anything here

He knows he deserves far worse than what he got, and right now he can't get control of it by ignoring it

He doesn't know how to handle this

Panicked sobs, like a small child that looked up and couldn't see his mom anywhere

Constant stream of tears, his whole body is shaking and he looks and feels so weak and helpless

Curled up as small as he can get, fist in his mouth, tucked into a corner where no one can see him break down and mock him/exploit his weakness

So very scared

How MC comforts him:

The tricky part is cheering him up without brushing off what he's experiencing

The best way is to make him feel loved without letting him get up on a pedestal

Hold him close and maybe sing to him gently to get his mind out of the haze

Get him to talk about what made him upset as soon as he's coherent

Work on finding appropriate ways to address the issue and move forward

Don't let him brush it off

Get it down in writing or take the first step, so he'll commit to it even after he's back to his normal self

Once you've made it that far, you can boost his ego a bit.

Tell him about the good qualities you admire in him (he's generous, he's a quick learner, he's a good fighter whatever his mother says, etc)

He will strut like a peacock for the next week to make up for his moment of lameness

He will also follow through on what you two worked out and bit by bit become the better person he was meant to be

Deep down, in his mind, all the credit for that goes to you

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