#or are they dead and their kids are simply ~thinking~ this is what their parents thought?
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rarsathemoodreader ¡ 2 days ago
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Can't stop thinking about a no-powers AU where Peter was born a sick kid, with the threat of death looming over his tiny body. No one expected him to live past his fourth birthday, or his fifteenth nevertheless. Yet somehow, he's still kicking. His parents are dead, so is Ben, all he has is May. And all May has is him. So she does everything in her power to get him more time, add a few days to his life—anything. She sings him up for medical trials and experimental treatments, she applies for grants, relief aid and support groups. Anything and everything she can think of, she already did. But you can't outrun death and as lucky as Peter has been, living past his fourth birthday, his luck is bound to run out. He's dying, there is no stopping that. So he starts acting out, not in an alarming way, simply trying to experience the world outside of his hospital room that might as well be his home because he hasn't left it in three years waiting for his body to take its last breath. No, he sneaks out of his bed and into galleries to observe surgeries, finds the way to the roof and just hangs out there, breaks into the residents lounge and messes with their stuff— small fun shenanigans. Just trying to live for once, to be a kid and experience what it's like to be a teenager. It's on one of his adventures across the hospital, raising havoc and annoying the interns, that he meets Tony. A dying billionaire whose lifestyle is catching up to him. All the drinking, drugs, and questionable substances he's taken over the years have ruined his liver. He needs a new one, and now. But they can't find a match for him, every time a potential donor shows up, the donation falls through. Tony relapses a few times as well, sneaking alcohol into his room somehow and having to wait all over again to be put back onto the list because you have to be sober for at least a year to be eligible for a donation. Peter barged into his room trying to hide from the nurses looking for him again and Tony, dying and bored out of his mind, helped him hide. They talk and a friendship is formed. They bond over slowly dying, their love for everything science, and nerd over sci-fi movies. It's one of the most meaningful and deep relationships Tony has ever had and it breathes purpose into him. He's trying to do better, live better, be better. And then one day, a donor comes through, a perfect match and Tony wants to tell Peter but doesn't have the chance to. He's taken into surgery almost immediately, it goes well, in fact goes beyond that— Tony comes out of the OR a new man (sore and in pain, but healthy). But Peter never shows up, he asks the nurse about him but they avoid meeting his eyes. Three days later, May shows up, with bloodshot eyes and a defeated hunch to her shoulder, and tells him that Peter passed four days ago. That a week after meeting Tony, he had tested to see if he was a match for him and when he knew that he was, he was adamant to donate his liver to the man. He threw a fit when the doctors told him that despite having a healthy liver, his body would not withstand the strain the operation would put him through. May tells him about how Peter made her promise that when he dies, she'll donate all his organs, and give Tony his liver. She tells him that she did, that the liver he got was Peter's and that now, Tony will always have a piece of the boy with him. She tells him that now he has a second chance in life, that he has the opportunity to do good, to be better and that he owes it to Peter to try. They mourn him together, grieve his loss together. Tony starts a foundation in Peter's honor, hosts galas and charity events in his name. He takes better care of his body, of his health. He became a better person for Peter, because Peter was everything.
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all-pacas ¡ 1 day ago
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"it's the screwups that make us interesting" house you look very australian today.
(Quote from Lucky Thirteen) Chase is so fucking perceptive and it's such a fascinating character trait tbh.
House is perceptive but biased and eager to use his ability to read people to push his agendas -- he loves to analyze and pick apart, to find the hypocrisies and dig in, to try and use his perceptiveness to prove his theories; he is constantly telling people his theories. But House is truly, fascinatingly, shown to be wrong just as often as he is right: Cameron does love him. Taub doesn't care about the paternity results for his daughters. The Hassidic Jewish woman really did genuinely convert and believe. He's great at noticing the discrepancies and potential for hypocrisy, but often fails to stick the landing, you know? Maybe Cuddy is struggling with adoption, but he misses the fact that she actually very much still wants to adopt. He gets that Chase has some kind of Catholic thing going on, but assumes religious trauma and not failed out of seminary. House is truly not that reliable a narrator!
But then you also have characters like Cameron, right? She is very similar to House in this aspect: she loves to pick at people and analyze them. She happily spends all of Lines in the Sand trying to psychoanalyze House; we see her trying her hand on it with Chase in Cursed and in Act Your Age; she is often someone marching around trying to figure people out, who confidentially proclaims she understands the deeper meaning. (One of my favorite little jokes in the series is her confidentially telling the new team how to handle House in The Itch, only for House to run all over her and Thirteen to roll her eyes -- it's a bit mean to Cameron, but it is dead on, lol.) But unlike House, she really isn't very good at this. Cameron is truly presented as wrong more than she is right: she jumps to conclusions but rarely gets a win. She thinks Chase is having an affair, not that he's guilty about murder. (To be fair, that wouldn't have been my first guess either.) She realizes House has feelings for her, accurately, but then interprets his every action as pining and romantically-based -- he wants to fire her because he's pining, right? -- because it's what she wants to believe. She gives her patients complete faith and gets screwed time and again.
(And then you have Foreman, who is... I love him... he kind of sucks at this. He consistently assumes Chase is playing 5D chess to fuck with him, when all signs point to Chase simply not caring -- "the betting pool about who gets fired is because he's jealous of me" helllooooo. He judges numerous patients on his first positive or negative impression and really struggles to change that impression. Rabies lady is homeless and sucks until halfway through the episode; the girl he kills in House Training he only changes his mind on after she's dying; but conversely, he remains convinced of the single-dad teenager in Whac-A-Mole's goodness until the end. Foreman is not a great reader of people!)
But then you have Chase. Who is persistently, and fascinatingly, great at this. He repeatedly nails Foreman dead to rights, in the scene you quote but at other times too: calls him out in S2's Failure to Communicate, checks in on him in Families, is amused by his insecurities in Acceptance. He's even better with Cameron; he has her basically pegged (some insecurities about his own relationship with her aside) and proves it time and again. He's fantastic at telling patients what they need to hear (Damned if You Do, the death cat episode); there are asides mentioning he can talk patients or his OR boss into doing anything he wants. He reads House dead to rights in The Jerk (to House's pleasure and pride -- "I forget why I hired you," he says happily). He spends most of After Hours basically vibrating because he knows Thirteen isn't okay and needs her to admit it already. He pegs the situation with the kid and parents in Cane and Able as toxic and intercedes; even his meme'd "keep 'er asleep" in One Day One Room is... honestly fairly reasoned advice (the rest of his speech continuing that there is no right answer, no magic solution, even if House is busily looking for one. He's right). Chase is phenomenally good at reading and understanding people. Frankly, he would have been a really amazing advisor/priest. He's pretty fucking good at giving advice when he wants to; he shows a real knack for understanding others....
And naturally, Chase only ever uses this power to make fun of Foreman and make his job easier. Love it for him.
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vaguely-concerned ¡ 9 months ago
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just had the thought 'in the end the most important thing varric taught rook was how to make a home for, with, and in other people' and then I had to go lie down on the floor and clutch at my head in unceasing agony for a few hours, as you may well imagine. hawke and the kirkwall crew........ in the end you kind of saved the world a bit in the most characteristically indirect and chaotic of ways. not by anything in particular that you did or achieved or accomplished (lmao imagine!), but just by -- having existed, and by the love that was always there, despite it all, in all its imperfections, even when no one was saved by it in the end. you're not here right now and you're not quite haunting the narrative but I hear your voices bickering and arguing and laughing from the other room. (and so, I think, does varric. all the time.)
'did you think you mattered, hawke? did you think anything you ever did mattered?' yeah actually, varric says with da2 and keeps saying through the series. you were here. and I loved you. and as it turns out that mattered more than almost anything in the world, no matter how long it lasted or how fucked up it was at the time or what else happens, because varric manages to pass that feeling, that intangible... home, that echo of you all as you were together, that love, hopefully the best parts of it, on to someone else for them to bring with them on their journey, with their family. and maybe the world will be kinder this time. you never know. merrill's line of 'Everything affects everything. We were born, a bunch of things happened, and now we're in a mess with our friends.' varric's greatest fear of becoming his parents. even through the wreck and the ruin of the world, ghosts upon ghosts upon ghosts of love -- malcolm hawke, who we never even see, but his life touched hawke's and hawke's touched varric's and varric's touched rook's and rook is passing it on to the family they're creating. the unbroken legacy of love shines through in ways that are stronger and stranger than any magic. help
#I woke up. I opened my eyes. this insight hit me over the head like the fist of god. what the fuck. what the FUCK#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#hawke#varric tethras#dragon age 2#dragon age meta#let me live please I've barely reached consciousness I can't deal with this#the kirkwall gang.#what if they were secretly the most important people who ever existed. just because they existed. and for the love that was there#yeah you know what? that's not the worst legacy in the world is it.#da:tv really is da2 2 in some key ways. to me. one of the most da2 lovers or all time#also extremely da2 and also varric core for varric to adopt a kid (as a full adult) completely alone with hawke possibly dead#and STILL somehow manage to make it a varrichawke lovechild on some level. not romantic not platonic but something even more insane#every day varric is unbearably intimate with hawke through the narrative in ways he simply Cannot be with anyone in real life#(in ways you perhaps Should not be in real life. also. lol)#he keeps moving on no matter what b/c that's what you do. but I think varric's real home isn't even kirkwall or a place at all#it's a time. and that time is da2. or at least the story of da2 that he tells himself.#also also what about them themes around parenthood huh. I think varric in the end at least did not become his parents. thank god#trauma gets passed down. but so do other things and you have choices about what you want to leave behind#for those who come after you.#*tears streaming down my face* guess I have to go make breakfast and pretend everything is normal then. sick and twisted
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whump-n-comfort ¡ 1 year ago
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i've noticed a common generic idea beneath my fave stories
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forever-eternal ¡ 2 years ago
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Idk if you're still taking art requests, but if you are, can you please draw that one scene with Gov and Louisiana from the fic where Gov was trying to be a better father? It's completely fine if not tho!!💜💜
Of course, lovely! 💙💙
*STATE DESIGNS LIABLE TO CHANGE!
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“Breathe with me, it’ll be okay.
The shadows know to leave when I’m here.”
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unproduciblesmackdown ¡ 1 year ago
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another billions analysis thing is like so yeah while it's like "hmm let's think about power" but then doesn't really do that, what's there to offset that is "but let's think about what these people with billions(tm) are doing because of their like personal feelings & lives & whatever" and the personal feelings are the thrilling journey of s1 men following the compass of their ego & the way their personal lives matter at all beyond this is about their Relationships. except the relationships are also actually about the power billions isn't really thinking about because the ones billions focuses on involve this Fealty where one person does whatever and the other is just stuck with it. sure they might air some unhappiness sometimes, but if it's not punished or ignored from the start anyway, it'll still end up so inconsequential that it's as though it never happened. and what's left to offset the way that can't mean anything if you again take it for granted that of course people are just locked into such relationships & best they can do is fix it from the inside or embrace it as is? is "do you think this character is a winner among losers & you want to see them pwn everyone & do whatever they want forever" & if you like all the media the creators do like
#or you can watch the show wrong but where billions was never planning to allow taylor to Disrupt these crucial dynamics#sure they can kind of break with axe but never with wendy!#who can also kind of break with axe & chuck but also not really at all! worst Cost for anyone: divorce. & even then it's not that bad#it's like whenever things just conclude with a reverent nod to like Nuclear Family subsection Fealty To Parent or To Cishet Spouse#like where invoking that serves as a resolution to all the shit going on throughout the actual plot / themes of the material#oh well thank god we have the nuclear family. wendy's on emergency call for her kids & sometimes she will pat their head as they silently#disappear out of frame but that's all we need to be so glad for her she has her nightmare family dinners forever#does taylor have Okay I Guess weekly friend dinners? who cares.#and i mean from there which relationships matter are also just determined by which ones the show cares about in particular#same as which it believes is obviously an Epic Man. or a girlboss. which is primarily wendy sorry! as the wife who will epic divorce you#winston billions#kind of putting a damper on thinking about how Feelings & Personal Motivations play into things#when once again it's precluded by the power dynamics of characters who get to do whatever they want no consequence ever#just going through motions like oh no wendy feels she was in the wrong in s4? no consequence by the end of it & that just Goes Away#how does anything have anything to do with wendy's motivations in s7#the real shining example of how really nothing holds up upon any earnest consideration is everything going on with axe & wendy#those relevant Motivations and it's like okay so wendy should want axe dead right? Wrong. it's peak beautiful romance time now#and anytime there's a more actually balanced relationship where nobody just does whatever they want no consequence?#billions is only interested if a s1 epic winner is involved & even then it'll only get so much material simply as fun little bonus flair#all that stuff about chuck's dad always being around to ruin his life? well he'll just keep doing that forever i guess#and this isn't some ''oh no'' moment like ah the parent always means well! and what's the child gonna do? escape this? lol
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imtired-likerllytired ¡ 13 days ago
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Things that have 100% happened in the dc universe
Damian very frustrated with both his parents climbing through dicks window: Grayson who is your most recent paramour
Jason who got hurt in haven so he snuck in and is eating Dicks ice cream: huh?
Damian: you’re not Grayson
Jason: and thank god for it, why do you wanna know who dicks “paramour” is
Damian: I don’t have to explain myself to you
Dick leaving the kitchen holding a second tub of ice cream: oh hey dami, what’s up
Damian: which one of your redheads is your lover this month?
Jason: *chocking on his ice cream*
Dick pinching the bridge of his nose: Damian we’ve talked about this, they’re not MY redheads, I also don’t exclusively date redheads.
Damian: …so which one is it?
Jason: he clocked you there
Dick: shut up Jason and eat your ice cream
Dick: why do you wanna know Dames
Damian: research
Dick: I’m seeing Kori right now
Damian: ah the alien, she is strong
Dick a little dreamily: yeah… yeah she is
Damian: she will make a fine mother
Jason: *putting his ice cream down* what
Dick: what?!?
Damian: do you think if you were to court her with the intent to marry she would adopt the family habit of picking up strays.
Dick: damian i am so so so confused right now please explain
Jason: please so I can go back to my ice cream without it being a choking hazard
Damian: I am making but a simple inquiry Richard
Dick: we both know you don’t talk like that anymore, spill
Damian: …mother is being… bothersome
Dick: fork found in kitchen, Talia found making mine and Bruce’s life hell.
Damian: let me rephrase, I am finding mother bothersome
Dick: oh?
Jason: OH?
Damian rambling a bit: yes and since you were a far superior Batman, and I am the son of the bat and of course there was the many discussions of adoption before we knew that father would return
Jason: THERE WAS DISCUSSIONS OF WHAT NOW DICKHEAD
Dick: not the time Jay
Jason: nuh uh definitely the time Dicolas, you were gonna adopt the pipsqueak??
Dick: yeah jay, Bruce was dead I was raising him? What would you rather I kept him as ward for a decade and messed him up??
Jason: your issues with Bruce are showing
Damian: when are they not-
Dick: Hey!
Jason: HA! Even the kid clocked you
Damian: AS I was saying, as I am finding mother bothersome and I always find father bothersome. I have simply decided I must find people who are a better for the position
Dick: of your parents?
Damian: yes exactly
Jason: I feel like I’m on lifetime rn
Dick: and you want me to? What? Call Kori and ask her if she wants to join me in adopting her on again off again boyfriend’s brother. Who mind you is the biological son of Batman whose contingency for her going rogue is literally to get her hooked on what is essentially space coke and ruin her life.
Jason: Bruce has SPACE COCAINE???
Damian: nonsense Richard
Dick: okay so then what-
Damian: i cut out the middle man and sent her a message approximately 5 minutes ago
Dick: kid we’ve talked about this.. boundaries
Jason: fuck this weird ass family dynamic, you’re telling me Bruce Wayne has god damn space coke
Dick: he’s Batman jase, he has literally everything
Jason:…. Do you think space coke works on Superman
Dick: I’m not answering that
Jason: BECAUSE YOU KNOW, DID BRUCE GIVE CLARK SPACE COKE
Dick: I will answer any and all questions, if you get me out of this conversation with Damian
Damian: there is no need, your partner has agreed to the adoption on the grounds that you two are to be wed.
Dick: what-
Damian: she says to be at the courthouse tomorrow at 1pm
Dick: huh-
Damian leaving out of the window he came through: see you tomorrow Richard
Dick: WAIT. What? Which court house? Which country??? I’m pretty sure Kori’s in Japan? Hey wait damian? Get BAck HERe what?
Jason slowly reaching for his ice cream again: so space cocaine?
Dick: I was an only child for 18 years? Couldn’t Bruce let me keep my damn streak
Jason: hey! I was also dead for 3 years before bruce adopted tim, technically you’ve been an only child for 21 years of your life
Dick: shut up
Jason: tell me about the space coke Richard
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itelya ¡ 1 month ago
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Can I request ex military husband Sukuna and Toji reacting to their son calling y/n the b word? 😂 I just know they’d be furious and practically leap over furniture to snatch the kid up not knowing it’s a prank
a/n: ty for the request it was fun to write😂 ⟢﹒ masterlist
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You're in the kitchen, chopping fruit, the sun filtering gently through the curtains. Your son is sitting at the counter, his elbows propped, his eyes fixed on you. Too quiet. Too focused. He has that look, that posture... the one that announces a monumental stupidity.
"Mom... you are a bitch," he says quietly.
The word falls like a thunderclap in your ears. You stop dead in your tracks, the blade still in your hand. Your gaze slowly rises, your eyebrow arches, icy. You don't know whether to scream, burst out laughing, or simply disown him right then and there. Your heart is between disappointment and anger.
In the living room, deathly silence. Toji, slumped on the sofa, opens his eyes slowly, and Sukuna, leasing on the armchair, raises his head so quickly that his neck cracks. Toji freezers, his eyes fixed on their son, the expression of someone about to go into battle. Sukuna stands up without a word, his jaw clenched.
They exchange a look like two soldiers who've just picked up an enemy signal.
"He didn't say that..." Toji breathes.
"He dared." Sukuna replies, already moving.
Your son immediately turns pale. He should never have done that, even for a laugh. "IT-IT'S A PRANK! A TIKTOK! I SWEAR! IT WAS A JOKE, JUST TO SEE YOUR REACTIONS!"
"A prank?!" the two men repeat at the same time, their voices deepening.
Toji leaps from the couch. Sukuna crosses the room at terrifying speed, and their son rushes out of his chair, fleeing toward the dining room as if his life depended on it. Hiding behind the dining table makes him forget one detail: no piece of furniture can protect him from two highly trained ex-soldiers.
"When did they raise you to think a word like that should be tested?!" Toji snarls, stepping forward.
"Do you want us to laugh too by sending you to a retraining camp in Kyrgyzstan for six months?" Sukuna adds with such menacing calm that it sends shivers down your spine.
"But you were laughing when I said 'shit' at 4 years old!" their son desperately tries, accused from behind the table.
"To think I was ready to give you my old service knife for your next birthday..." Toji snarls, his gaze dark. "But forget that. I'd rather give it to the dog."
Your son opens his mouth to defend himself, but Sukuna raises his hand sharply, cutting cleanly.
"You want to be smart? Fine. Apology letter to your mother. Three hundred push-ups, and while you're doing them, you keep repeating 'Sorry, Mom, I'm an impressionable idiot' over and over again."
Toji quietly snuck up behind him. He grabbed him in a flash, lifting your son with a firm arm. "You want to talk like an adult? You're going to live like a soldier."
"But I've seen other kids do it...!" your son complains, offering to climb out of Toji's enormous arms.
"A follower, too?" roars Sukuna, outraged. "I was a unit captain, not some pathetic TikTok sheep."
Toji chuckles softly, that sadistic little laugh you recognize all too well. "Let's start by shaving his head. It'll help him think."
Your son starts to cry for real, shaking like a leaf. He doesn't want to lose his beautiful hair. You approach, calm, gentle, your hand outstretched.
He turns to you, relieved. This is your only chance. His light. His mother. You gently place your hand on his head, stroking his hair like a promise... then you smile. "I'm the one who's going to shave it."
A cry escapes his throat, pure and sincere. "Mom, I'm sorry! I swear I'll never do it again! I love you! You're the best parents in the world! I'm too young to lose my hair!"
Toji and Sukuna cross their arms, stoic. They look at him, already deciding what to do with him.
"Too late, soldier. The uniform starts now."
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deadsetobsessions ¡ 1 year ago
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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.
ďżź
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
A bread roll thwacked him in the face.
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faramirsonofgondor ¡ 1 month ago
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Dick should be incredibly good at fighting under the influence of fear toxin. Like, so good that he’s the guy that’s always sent out after scarecrow because he’s pretty much the only one who can consistently battle its effects. He still quips and does performative little stunts, barely bats an eye.
No one knows why. For a while, the running theory is that he was simply exposed to much more fear toxin as a kid, so he built an immunity. He’s the only one who has been a vigilante nearly as long as Bruce, and was always the distraction, so he was almost exclusively the one hit in the face with toxin during his Robin era. However, this theory is slowly debunked as the rest of the family gets their fair share of exposure too and it doesn’t get any better.
Then they think it’s genetic or something. This is disproven too, though, after loads of experiments to see if a similar effect could be reproduced on the others.
Strength of will is tossed around as a theory, and it seems plausible, but if that were true then Bruce should also be near-immune. He’s actually one of the worst-affected.
Whenever anyone tries to ask, Dick deflects with a ridiculous answer. But in truth, he knows exactly why he handles it so well: It’s because he’s almost always experiencing life in a way that isn’t quite reality. He always has the phantom of dried blood under his fingernails, the ghost of his dead brother still shows up to his nightly patrols, and every time his feet leave the floor he’s struck wi the sensation of falling falling falling.
He’s not immune to fear toxin by any means. His visions are rather severe. But whereas the state of fear toxin is a drug-induced living nightmare for others, it’s just a particularly bad Tuesday for him. And he’s had a lot of those.
THIS THIS THIS OMG YES.
I honestly kind of head canon Dick as having schizo-affective disorder. He has hallucinations, delusions, depressive episodes, anxiety, impulsivity, self-esteem issues, mood swings, and the whole shebang. Dick is genuinely confused when people talk about him as the lights of their lives, as the golden boy, etc. because his reality is so fucked up. He has so much trauma that he doesn’t deal that hallucinations aren’t even a big deal to him. I also do think that being exposed to fear-toxin as young and as often as he was did have some sort of effect on his brain chemistry, especially since he became Robin so soon after his parents death. Like I feel like maybe he was already having grief-induced hallucinations and nightmares for a while, and then Scarecrow shows up and he’s having more frequent hallucinations. Essentially, I think Scarecrow gave Dick’s brain an extra push into hallucinating regularly.
I believe that Tim and Jason became Robin at around 12-13, and though they might’ve encountered fear toxin at one point before then, they wouldn’t been regularly encountering at 8 years old the way Dick did. Like I definitely feel like Dick was the youngest to start being Robin, and this definitely had influence on his body, brain chemistry, and mental health (not just related to Scarecrow and fear toxin, but in general as a crime-fighting 8 year old).
Anyways, Dick has been through a lot of shit, and hallucinates regularly, so I doubt he’d bat at an eye at anything Scarecrow throws at him. From everyone else’s POV, they just think that Scarecrow’s shit doesn’t work on Dick for some reason, despite all the testing they’ve done that shows that it shouldn’t be that way. I feel like this would either freak the fuck out of Scarecrow, or it would make him want to fixate on creating something that works on Dick. Maybe he teams up with some other villains to try and study Dick’s brain.
OOOOH Maybe he teams up with a sorcerer to find out what life looks like from Dick’s POV before and after being injected with fear toxin, only to find that there’s barely any change and he’s just like “damn dude that actually kinda sucks lol loser”. Maybe the sorcerer decides to fuck with the Batfam or the Titans by forcing them into Dick’s mind and making them see Dick’s reality. They’re all scared shitless because everyone feels so wrong. They feel phantom hands and sensations ghosting over them all the time. They feel the hot splash of blood on their face, but then there’s nothing there. They see and hear the voice of a younger Jason, a sometimes crueler Jason, despite the fact that the real Jason is right next to them. They see mutilated bodies and spectres all around them, reaching for them, staring at them, haunting them everywhere they go. They feel off-balance and nauseous all the time, and they don’t understand how Dick has the ability to do acrobatics when the world is constantly tilting.
And then, sometimes, when Dick is being harassed or threatened, they hear their own voices, or voices that are familiar to them. They hear Bruce shouting at Dick how it’s his fault Jason died. They hear their own teammates and friends jeer at Dick and call him a slut. They hear thousands of voices calling Dick a failure, a murderer, a freak. They hear the voice of a woman softly croak that she’s disappointed and disgusted with him, that she never wanted this life for her little Robin.
There’s soooo much about this hc that I want to explore, I might add onto this later.
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peasack ¡ 1 month ago
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I have a patent-teacher conference and guys its not okay I'm cooked.
Lowkey a bit of Valentina slander at the end but that's okay cause who likes her anyway.
Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader
✦ Parent-Teacher conference headcanons ✦
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∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗
✦ Alexei Shostakov ✦
Immediate big bear grin. “Of course! I would love to! Finally, official father duties! I am ready.”
He’s way too excited. You almost regret asking him because he immediately starts planning what to wear like it’s the Olympics.
He introduces himself as your “papa” and tells wildly exaggerated stories about your achievements that didn’t happen.
“Ah yes, Y/N once lifted a car. Very strong. Takes after me.”
The teacher is just blinking rapidly “I-what?”
He lowkey embarrasses you, but he’s also so proud.
Brags about you non-stop and leaves with his arm around you, even if you’re fake-mad at him the whole way home.
✦ Yelena Belova ✦
Acts super casual about it. “Yes, I can go. Why not? Someone must supervise the situation.” But she’s secretly honored you asked her.
She shows up in the coolest outfit and definitely intimidates your teacher a little.
If the teacher complains about you, she’s like: “No. You are wrong. Y/N is perfect.” (Dead serious.)
If they praise you, she’s smug for the rest of the week.
“You know, you could have asked anyone. But you picked me. Admit it Mouse. I am the best.”
✦ Bucky Barnes ✦
Very quiet, kinda awkward. “Me? Uh… yeah. Sure, kid. If you want me to.”
He sits stiffly, probably wears his nicest jacket. Doesn’t say much unless he needs to defend you.
If the teacher says you’re struggling, he’s all protective like, “What’s the school doing to help them? They’re not doing this alone.”
Absolutely takes your side.
If the teacher complains about you hanging out alone, Bucky’s just like, “Yeah? Maybe the other kids should be less annoying.”
Buys you snacks on the way home.
Barely talks about the meeting, just quietly says he’s proud of you.
✦ John Walker ✦
Blown away. “Wait, you want me to go? Like… with you? Of course! Yeah, I can do that. I’m good at that. Totally. Parental figure. Yeah.”
(He’s so flustered it’s adorable.)
Takes it VERY seriously. Nods way too much. The teacher lowkey loves him because he’s polite and enthusiastic.
If they criticize you, John gets defensive FAST.
“Have you considered that maybe your teaching style isn’t working for them? Just a thought.”
Treats you to dinner after like it’s a whole formal event.
“You did good, kid. Real good. Thanks for letting me be there.”
✦ Bob Reynolds ✦
Looks like you just asked him to hold the sun. He’s so touched. “Me? You really want me to go? Yeah. Yeah, I’d be honored.”
Soft-spoken the whole time. Very respectful but sharp when it comes to defending you.
He listens carefully, makes eye contact, thanks the teacher even if they’re being harsh.
If the teacher praises you, he beams.
Quiet little proud smiles. Might ruffle your hair without thinking.
Gets awkward when you thank him.
“Oh—uh, you don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you wanted me there.”
He'll be smiling after that all day.
✦ Ava Starr ✦
“Why me?” but not in a bad way—just genuinely surprised you’d choose her.
When you tell her you trust her, she agrees instantly. “I’ll be there. You got me.”
Has the most terrifying resting face. The teacher is so scared to say anything negative because Ava looks like she’ll end them.
If the teacher says you’re doing well, Ava’s eyes soften.
She just mutters, “Told you they were good.”
Doesn’t make a big deal out of it. On the way home she just quietly says, “Thanks for picking me.” But you can tell it meant a lot.
✦ Valentina Allegra de Fontaine ✦
"why would I wanna go to that"
Simply doesn't attend.
∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗
Hope you guys liked this one!! My requests are always open<33
Is it obvious that I hate Valentina
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cinnamorollcrybaby ¡ 10 months ago
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Werewolf // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge
Tags: Werewolf!Geto x Fem!Reader, Alpha!Geto x Omega!Reader, A/B/O mechanics, marking, scenting, nesting, fated mates, description of violence including murder, NSFW, MDNI
Synopsis: Suguru knew you were his before you even presented as an omega, but the pack elders did not take too kindly to him marking you at such a young age. He kills anyone who gets in his way to you.
An: If you don’t like a/b/o or omegaverse, skip this one :3. If you’re a freak like me, enjoy! Also, this was my first time making my own banner in Canva.. what are we thinking?? I am also so sorry that this one is so late.
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“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.”
Let’s rewind, shall we?
Living in a small pack has its perks. Everyone is protective over one another and will always offer to help no matter what. Pack relations are strongest when the pack is smaller, and the pack is more likely to survive.
There are, of course, some cons as well. Everyone knows your business, and everyone wants a say in how you live your life.
For the longest you can remember, Suguru has been by your side. You two would spend a lot of time down at the creek together as kids. You two practically learned everything together: how to hunt, fish, trap, and forage.
He was your insistent shadow, and the pack elders thought it was adorable when you two were younger. He would without fail abandon the other small children to always go hang out with you. The two of you were like little partners in crime together.
Though their adoration turned to concern when Suguru never quite left your side. In fact, it was getting worse as he grew older. By the time he turned 13, He was abandoning hunting trips early to come home to you. He’d sneak out of his tent to go to yours late at night. Your parents would have to kick him out every morning, chastising both of you.
Though, the straw that broke the camel’s back wasn’t simple sleepovers and abandoned hunting trips. It was when he presented as an alpha. Everyone knew he would with how physically gifted he was as a young teen. He was also too damn protective for his own good, going as far as to breaking another kid’s nose for simply grabbing your wrist.
You were only a few months younger than Suguru, but you hadn’t presented yet. When he presented first, your parents forbade him from sleeping over. They were just trying their best to protect you. You two were “too old” and “not old enough” at the same time to be sleeping together.
Suguru, given that he now had the talk from his parents, knew what your parents were suggesting, but he hated it. He didn’t understand how your parents could think so lowly of him overnight just from presenting.
He lasted three nights. Three whole nights of not snuggling against you, not smelling your hair while you two drifted off to sleep, not hearing your soft snores in the dead of night. It was three sleepless nights.
Suguru always had an inkling that you were his. It was a rather strange feeling of possession, like he shouldn’t have to listen to your parents’ rules because you weren’t theirs. You were his.
His frustration only heightened when the pack started to impose longer hunting trips on him. Shorter hunting trips were reserved for those who hadn’t presented and mated alphas. Since they were mated, they couldn’t be away from their mate for too long; thus, getting the smaller trips.
All these things led him to the conclusion: you’re his mate, and he needed to mark you to prove it.
After a particularly taxing hunting trip, Suguru’s eyes filtered through the camp. Everyone was as painfully jovial as usual: sitting around doing absolutely fuck all. His eyes landed on you, and he could feel the tension melting away from him almost instantaneously. You were in charge of looking after the small children, even though you yourself were still a child.
His feet stomped over toward you without a second thought, and his hand wrapped around your arm tightly, pulling you along behind him.
“Ah- Sugu. Where are we going? I’m working-!” You shout as he continues to drag you along silently. “Sugu- The kids…” You murmur as the two of you head further into the forest.
“They’ll be fine for a few minutes.” He responded calmly before he glanced behind him. The camp was far enough away now. No one would be able to see the two of you unless they were specifically looking for you.
“What are we doing, Sugu?” You asked with a small nervous smile. You had started to have to look up at him these days. It was as if he was growing taller overnight. No longer just a boy.
He also started to stink — well, it wasn’t like a smelly smell, but it was unfamiliar. Your parents had explained pheromones. You didn’t particularly like them since you hadn’t presented yet.
“I need you to sit still, and don’t scream.” He instructed before he dipped his head between your shoulder and jaw. He experimentally sniffed at your neck — completely scentless. The only smell coming from you was your strawberry shampoo that he had grown accustomed to.
“Why would I-“ His large hand covered your mouth before you could get out another word, and he opened his mouth before clamping down on your neck. His K9’s punctured your skin, allowing for blood to trickle down your skin.
A pained cry fled your mouth, but it was muffled by his hand. Suguru felt his heart begin to race. It was happening. You were finally officially his. No one could tell him otherwise — not even your silly parents.
He calmly reassured you that you were okay while you softly wept. Your hand covered the bloody mark on your neck. He was just marking you. You know, like it was no big deal.
After sweetly kissing your tears away, he proudly walked you back to camp once you had calmed down from crying, satisfied with himself. Your hands were laced together like true mates.
The first to immediately notice was Satoru, another alpha who was barely a year older than Suguru. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your marked neck.
“Suguru, what did you do?” He asks like a mother scolding her son. Usually, this was the other way around. Satoru would’ve never expected Suguru to do something as reckless as this.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Satoru. I just marked her.” He shrugs nonchalantly, still so proud of himself.
“You don’t understand. She hasn’t presented. This isn’t good. We need to-“
Your face was flushed a bright red, and Satoru could see your breath becoming more and more labored with each passing second. He frantically looked around, trying to think of what to do. Suguru probably didn’t even know that he just inadvertently forced your body to present. Having been marked, your body was now plummeting itself into a heat.
Suguru could feel you gently tugging on his hand, trying to get his attention. When he looked back at you, his eyes widened. He could tell what your body was going through, but he was just a boy. He didn’t know how to handle it.
“What are you three up to? Why aren’t the children being tended to-“ A clan elder asked after seeing the small children running around without you to watch them. His eyes landed on you, and he immediately tensed up at the scene. “What- How… Geto.”
*** *** ***
“He’s just a boy!” Suguru’s mom pleaded with tears in her eyes. Her hands clasped the young boy’s shoulders. “He has a whole life ahead of him! Don’t do this to him.”
“You’re right. He is just a boy, so it was your responsibility to teach him about these things.” A pack elder spoke.
“He’s an alpha. Even if they taught him those things, he would’ve acted on his own volition anyways.” Another spoke.
“Who even allowed him to be around her? He was suppose to be on a hunting trip, no?”
“We got back early. It was my responsibility, but we were carrying back a large buck. My mind was preoccupied. I accept full responsibility for his actions.”
“You can’t take on the full burden of responsibility. Geto is old enough to know right from wrong, and he chose the wrong path. He took that girl in the woods and marked her before she even presented as an omega.” The pack leader spoke.
Suguru stood completely motionless in front of his parents. He stayed looking down at the ground. While they argued over his future in the pack, his mind was stuck on you. They had ripped you away from him the second that the pack elder had realized that your body was in heat. He wondered if you were being taken care of okay. He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you already. He wondered if he’d get to see you again.
“He’s done so much for this pack at such a young age. Please.. Don’t do this to him. He has his whole life ahead of him.” His mother pleaded once again. “We’ll keep a closer eye on him. We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“What about my daughter’s life?” Your dad finally spoke up after being silent for far too long. “That bastard tainted her. She could’ve presented as anything: alpha, beta, or omega, but no, he forced biology upon her with a godforsaken mark. He should be shunned from the pack.”
“He can’t be allowed to be in the same space as her. He’s already proven that he can’t be trusted. The last thing we need is for a young omega to fall pregnant because an alpha doesn’t know restraint.”
“Don’t you two have family anywhere she can stay with… just until she’s a bit older? The mark might fade after they’ve been separated for a while.” Another pack elder spoke up to your parents.
“You’re seriously removing our daughter instead of the problem child? That’s fucking rich. So, what will happen when he marks another omega far too early, huh?” Your dad argued, clenching his jaw.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Suguru finally spoke up, looking your dad in the eye. A stare off between the two ensued.
“If this is how this pack operates, fine. I don’t want her in here if we protect alphas simply due to their gender instead of the innocent.” Your dad finally grit out before stomping away from the meeting.
It took three full grown alphas and Satoru to hold Suguru back while you were leaving. They wouldn’t even allow him to say goodbye to you, not even when you cried out his name. Not even when you begged, pleaded, asked why.
*** *** ***
Suguru was never quite the same after you and your family left. It had been years. He was just a boy when they took you. Now, he’s a twenty year old brooding alpha. He was aloof towards everyone, and he only confided in Satoru. His friend seemed to he the only one who understood that he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He didn’t know that his mark would cause a great deal of stress on your body, and had he known, he wouldn’t have done it.
The rest of the pack looked at him with reserved disdain. He was a stain upon their community. Your parents were well liked in the pack, and he was the reason they weren’t there anymore.
Words kept getting tossed around, and the pack members who weren’t there for the meeting were terribly misinformed. As the rumors spread, the story became more and more horrid. They painted him out to be a monster who held you down while you begged him not to and bit your neck forcibly.
Suguru never tried to correct the stories. He had nothing to prove to these people, the people that sent you away from him. They could all think of him as a monster, especially if it meant they stayed the hell away from him.
The only thing that kept Geto from expulsion from the pack was his innate ability to hunt. His beast from was truly that of an apex predator. He went on extravagant hunting trips often, and he kept the pack fed on wonderful meats.
He looked for you, his mate, on every hunting trip. He tried to remember the faint smell that started to emit from you when your body went into heat. He looked for every sign of you.
He knew the mate bond was still strong because he could feel everything through it. He hated when you felt sad. He knew you experienced some sort of nightmares without him there to care for you while you slept. Your happiness made him feel bittersweet. He wanted you to be happy, but the thought of you being happy without him made him sick.
Your heats were the worst. Suguru would sulk in his tent in a state of horny depression. He should be taking care of you, tending to your body and every desire you had. He should be helping you nest and kissing every spot on your body while cooing praises to you.
Instead, he’s laying in his own sweat and cum, too much of a sad sack of shit to make himself go get cleaned up. His tent stunk of potent pheromones. Your heats, even while being so far away, managed to throw him into a rut each time.
He could feel your dissatisfaction. You were pining for him to come help you. It was as if you were screaming down the mate bond for him to come save you. He missed you so damn bad that he started to hate the smell of strawberries. They smelled too much of you and reminded him of what he couldn’t have
He knew that the elders still kept in touch with your parents. They were high ranking leaders in the community after all. They knew where you were, and they still opted to keep you away from him.
You and him were suffering because of the fucking elders. They caused all of this. If they would’ve kept their fucking noses out of y’all’s business, none of this would be happening.
“Satoru… I’m going to kill them. I’m going to murder them all. I can’t do this anymore. She needs me.” Suguru was practically crying for help. He was sat in his tent, holding his head in shame. His arms and legs were practically trembling.
The homicidal thoughts started when you left. It was sneaky at first, but they only got worse over time. His friend was the only one who knew about them. He knew how badly Geto craved to end their lives.
“Let me talk to them. They might listen to me.” Satoru spoke calmly as he gazed as his heartbroken best friend. The tent was heavy with the scent of alpha rut and distress. He could tell Suguru was really going through it right now.
*** *** ***
Suguru’s beast form was nothing short of a monster. He was the strongest, right next to Satoru.
His black fur was matted with blood as he pawed at the remains of the pack leader. Satoru had tried to talk to them, but they instantly shut him down. Then, to make matters worse, they sent him away on a hunting trip that same day.
Without Satoru there to keep the thoughts at bay, Suguru literally couldn’t help himself. The beast shifted before he could even do anything about it, and he was instantly blood hungry.
Tears coated his face as he shifted back to his human form. Killing the elders didn’t even help soothe him. He just wanted his fucking mate for christ’s sake. He sat on the floor in a scatter of papers from where the two beasts had fought valiantly.
Nothing could replicate the feeling of emptiness that filled him in that moment. His best friend wasn't there. His mate had been gone for oh so long. The pack leaders were now all deceased. When tomorrow morning rolled around, he'd likely be ostracized from his pack for the murders.
He laid his head back against the wall with his hands covering his face. He just wanted to see Satoru one last time before he was expelled and shunned. He wanted to apologize and thank Gojo for sticking by him for all these years.
At some point, the sleep deprivation got to Geto, causing for him to fall asleep naked in the massacre that was the pack leader's tent. Nightmares of slaughter plagued his dreams. Your face haunted him. He wondered what could've been had he known better than to mark you at an early age.
It felt so real, that he swore he heard your voice, though it was different in his dream. Your voice wasn't as squeaky as it use to be. It was smooth with age and experience yet still soft spoken. Maybe he was forgetting the way you sounded? The thought terrified him. His memory was all he had left of you.
You were... laughing? No, it couldn't be you. The voice sounded more like Gojo's-
The tent unzipping. A gasp. "Shit. Don't-" Gojo's voice.
Geto fluttered his eyes open to see Gojo standing in the small doorway of the makeshift shelter. He had... a woman's eyes covered. Her bottom lip was trembling.
"Suguru, what did you do?" Satoru asked like he did all those years back, and suddenly, Suguru felt like a small child who had no impulse control. He quickly scrambled up to his feet, using a random sheet of paper to cover his manhood.
"You were gone, and I just... I just really fucking..." His words trailed as his eyes looked over towards the woman. His heart started to pound in his chest. She looked... so much like you. It was as if he was being confronted with the ghost of his past once again.
"I went to go get her, Suguru." Satoru calmly explained with a hint of bite in his tone. "You really think I'd listen to what those old geezers said about not going to look for her? I grilled every last one of them until they slipped up and gave me enough information to find her."
Geto's eyes were as wide as saucers, and his pupils were dilated as he stared at the woman who was quietly trembling next to Satoru. His hand covered most of her face. "Is that...?"
"In the flesh." Satoru said as his hand slowly dropped from your eyes. Chills shot through Geto's body as he saw his mate's face again.
"Sugu..." Your little nickname for him. His breath went labored as he took in the sight of you for just one moment. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears before he dropped the sheet of paper and lunged for you.
His large muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a tight embrace against him. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered in your ear like a mantra. His hands roamed across your back as if he was double checking that this was real.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He whispered again in a pained voice. This was not how he wanted you to see him. He was at his lowest. “I’ve missed you so much. It feels like I’ve been underwater this entire time.”
You gently nuzzled your face into his chest, and you took a deep breath, savoring his scent. A content hum fled your lips. He smelled like home. “I’ve missed you too, Sugu.”
Suguru had grown so much since you last saw him. His body was now muscular and toned. His hair was even longer. It was tied up in a half knot while the rest of it messily splayed down his back. He wasn’t just a boy anymore — a man now.
“I hate to be the one to ruin this reunion, but there’s dead pack elders that we have to deal with.” Satoru spoke up as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Suguru reluctantly pulled back from you, not ready to let go of his missing mate. “I have no intention of staying here.” He said, eyes glancing over to the corpse on the ground. “This pack is a shit show.”
“So, what do we do?” Satoru asked, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. It was never a question in his mind. Satoru was going to go wherever Geto went.
“We start our own pack.” Geto casually threw out the idea with a small shrug. “It’s not impossible. If those incompetent creatures could do it, so can we.”
*** *** ***
You were happy and content to follow Geto and Gojo wherever the two went. It had been so long since you’ve seen the two males. You had almost forgotten how much mischief they could get up to.
Every day was filled with hiking, trying to find a new place to settle down. Every night was spent around a small fire, listening to the stories of the two while you were sent away.
When you and Geto would finally lay together next to the fire, he’d lazily play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He’d tell you how beautiful you were and how there was never a day that went by when he didn’t think of you.
“Have I mentioned how terrible it was without you?” He murmured in your ear while his large hand was gently caressing your hip. He would carefully slip it underneath your shirt. The pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin.
“Only a million times.” You giggled in response, looking up at him to meet his gaze.
“Make it a million and one then. It was terrible.” He quietly laughed, not wanting to wake up Satoru who was snuggled on the ground on the other side of the fire.
“I missed you too.” You replied. Your hand carefully reached up and cupped his cheek. Your head was resting on his bicep while your legs were intertwined. “I tried calling out to you often through the mate bond.”
“I felt it each time.” He admitted as his hand slowly snaked higher up your torso. “I felt each time you went into heat and needed me.”
The fire calmly crackling masked the small whimper that fled from your lips. “I’m sorry. I know that probably drove you crazy.”
“You have no idea.” He muttered as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the mark on your neck. It hadn’t faded in the slightest. Your body knew you were his before you presented as well. “I dreamt of going out to find you.”
“Yeah? What would you do had you found me while I was in heat?”
“Mmm..” He hummed in a low tone as he gazed at you with a small smirk on his face. “I would sneak into whatever tent you were in like I use to when we were kids.” He spoke softly as his hand continued to trail up your side slowly.
“I’d find you lying there, already such a mess for me.” He went on, painting the picture vividly for you. Your eyes slipped shut as you imagined it for yourself. “Then, I’d pin you down to your nest, stopping you from taking care of yourself.” He went on, and he rolled on top of you, pinning your arms down with his free hand.
The sickly sweet scent of your arousal building lingered in the air, making Suguru’s heart pound in his chest. You smelled even more yummy than he imagined you to.
“What next?” You ask softly in a breathless voice.
“I’d kiss your lips until they were bruised.” He mumbled, and he leaned down to you before pressing his lips harshly against yours. He groaned softly as soon as he could feel you kissing back. He poured all of his love and hunger into his affections. He needed you like he needed air. You were his sole salvation - his reason for living
He carefully pushed your shirt up over your chest, and he skillfully reached behind you, unclasping your bra within a few seconds. You worked with him, pulling it away from your body before you wrapped your legs around his waist.
His hand came up and carefully cupped your breast. Hs kneaded on the soft pillowy flesh with another groan. He gently bit your swollen lip, asking for entry before proceeding to deepen the kiss. He swallowed up your small moans and gasps.
"Then," he softly pant out after parting from the kiss, "I'd mark up your neck again and again. I never want you to forget who you belong to." His head dipped into your neck, and his lips latched on to the soft skin.
He sucked, nibbled, and bit his way up and down your neck, making good on his promise to mark you up. Your hips raised up to meet his, needily searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs.
"My poor omega.." He mumbled softly against your skin before allowing his hand to trail down and to grope you at your core.
"Fuck- Sugu.." Your voice was a soft whine, forgetting all about Gojo who was asleep not even 10 feet away.
"Shhh, princess. Don't wake him." Suguru shushed you softly with a impish grin. His hands now worked to take your pants and panties off. "Want me to keep going?"
"Please..." Your face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire before you two. A soft blush spread across your cheeks.
"Mmm, then you have to be quiet." Suguru teased before he allowed himself the pleasure of gazing at your glistening cunt. "Oh, so pretty." He mused before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your folds.
Suguru's mind was running haywire as he generously lapped at your wet heat. He had imagined this happening so many times while he fucked his own fist. It's all finally worked out. He's finally gotten to taste you, to hear you moan his name.
Your fingers entangled in his hair, holding onto him for support while he devoured you thoroughly.
"Mmn.. Sugu~ S'close... please." You quietly whimpered out, warning him of your impending release while he slurped at your cunt, drinking down your slick as if you were a fountain of youth.
"Can you hold it, baby?" His voice was muffled as he didn't dare part from you.
"N-no, I-" You softly whine, starting to rock your hips back and forth across his tongue. You were desperate for release, nearly riding his face to get there.
Suguru tugged back away from you. "That just won't do, darling." He mumbles as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his pants and boxers down just enough. "I need your first time finishing with me to be on my cock. Think you can do that for me?"
You're quick to nod in agreement with his wish, desperately needing the approval of your alpha. You had already caught a glimpse of his size when you and Satoru first arrived. Even when soft, Suguru still isn't small. Now that he's fully hard, it's almost intimidating.
"Mmm~ such a good girl." He quietly praised as he carefully guided his cock between your slick covered folds. He held your gaze as he rubbed his tip up and down, creating a wet "schlick" noise with each movement. His poor neglected cock leaked sticky pre-cum along your core, making everything so messy.
"Bite on my hand." He instructed as he placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't want you makin' too much noise." With a small huff, you bite down onto his hand.
Humping you a few more times, Geto finally decided to push himself into you. Your body immediately went rigid as you tried to cope with the new pressure between your legs. It felt as if he was trying to split you in two, completely impaling you with his thick cock.
"Ohh~ fuuu... That's it.." Geto's voice was deeper and extremely breathy. His eyes were half-lidded as he continued to watch your facial reactions. The small tears crowding the corners of your eyes made him throb. "You're so fucking tight."
"it's not gonna fit-" You quietly whined behind the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, your fingernails were embedded into his back, decorating him with scratch marks.
"It's gonna fit, baby." He quietly reassured you as he pulled back a bit and sunk back in. Your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to push in more. "Gotta let me stretch you."
"Ngh~ ah.." Your voice cracked as your leaned your head back against the ground. Suguru's hips rolled, just barely fucking into your tight cunt. He'd add another inch with each thrust, allowing you time to gradually get use to him.
The air was filled with shushed panting and breathy whines. The sound of your sopping cunt squeezing around him was like a holy song to him. You were the only slice of heaven Geto would ever see.
He had been so caring; you hadn't even realized he was all the way in until you felt a thump towards your stomach. "Ohmygod-" The gasp fell from your mouth before you could even think to stop it. "Fuuuck... feel you right here.." You meekly murmured as you pointed towards your tummy.
"Yeah baby? Feel me all the way in there?" He humors your intoxicated speech as he's lovingly thrusting into you. "You feel so fucking good." He praised as he peppered your face in sweet kisses.
Your spongy walls cling to his dick with each soft thwack of his balls clapping against the flesh of your ass. You're completely soaked around him, allowing him to glide in and out with ease.
His fat tip was damp with sweltering pre-cum gathering at his slit. With each thrust, his tip was kissing at your womb, making you feel all dumb in the head. He occupied his mouth with kissing and sucking more love bites into your shoulders. "So good, baby... ah~ so fuckin' good." He continued to mumble praises in a pussy drunk tone.
Both of your bodies were glistening in a mix of sweat and slick. The fire raged beside you two keeping you very warm while he pumped in and out. "Can't get enough. Need more.. ngh~ M-missed you so much." He growled lowly in your ear as his tender thrusts grew sloppier - fueled by an intense need.
"Suguu~ fuck me." That little needy whine was all he needed to start forcefully pounding into you. Noise level be damned; he needed his omega on a biblical level that Satoru would never be able to understand.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
Your poor cunt was practically sobbing for him - making a complete mess between your thighs as his cock rudely drilled into you. Your back arched up off of the ground, and you could feel your eyes rolling back. It felt like you were ascending to a higher being.
Suguru caught your lips in a sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected your mouths like strings of fate as you muffled each others moans. "Need to knot you - f-fuck, please, let me knot you."
Your legs wrap completely around Suguru's waist. "Knot me, Sugu.. hngh~ I'm s'close.."
Suguru's legs began to shake as he could feel his balls growing heavy. Instincts completely drove him to keep fucking himself into your drooling cunt. His eyes stayed on you as he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge.
"Sh-shit!" You hissed as your gummy walls suddenly tightened around him. The squelching noises slowed as he felt his knot starting to swell. His hands gripped onto your hips as he had to force his way deep inside your wet heat. The knot locking you two in place before he completely spilled inside you.
"Fuuucking hell..." Suguru breathed out as he stayed planted on top of you. His breath was labored as his hand brushed a few stray hairs from your face. "No one will ever take you away from me again. You're mine."
Bonus Scene!
Upon waking up the next morning on Suguru's bare chest, you sighed contently. Your body ached in the best way. Though, you knew it would only make this trek even harder.
You slowly sat up with a quiet groan. Your face was slightly sticky from sweat and drool. He had really wore you out last night.
"Morning, sleepy head." Suguru mumbled as his eyes rested upon your tired face.
"Mmm.. morning." You quietly hummed as your hands instinctively smoothed out your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable.
"Good morning, Satoru." The white-haired alpha spoke to himself in a grumpy, sarcastic tone as he stared at the two of you.
"It's too early for your attitude, Satoru." Suguru quietly laughed as he looked at his friend.
"You can deal with my attitude given what I had to deal with last night." He huffed as his lips curled into a slight pout.
"You didn't-"
"Oh, I did." He confirmed. "Oooohhh, please knot me, Sugu. Oh so big and strong!" He mocked your voice in a high pitched tone.
"Oh god, please stop." You whine as you covered your ears. A nervous laugh involuntarily bubbled up from your throat.
"Mmm, fuck. Gonna knot this tight cun-"
"That's enough, Satoru." Suguru playfully warned as he shook his head with a calm smile. It didn't bother him one bit that he heard the two of you last night because he knew that Satoru was going to hear you two again tonight as well.
Read the rest of my monstertober here !
2K notes ¡ View notes
maeedrg ¡ 2 months ago
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Waiter, a cup of kisses !
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ᯓ★
Synopsis : In which Satoru kisses you for the first time, his best friend, and you both can’t seem to stop now.
Words count : 3k.
Warnings : Pure fluff, crack, both of them like to bully each other, reader is mentioned fem once, mention of boobs.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : Omg I’m back from the dead guys ! College is time consuming. It’s a small fanfic because I intend on writing soon a quite big one. But we’ll talk about it later because I will need your opinion on something.
。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。
When Satoru kissed you for the first time, it was in the most “randomly out of nowhere” way possible. Like he would say.
Being physically close to him, sometimes crossing a blurry line, wasn’t something actually bizarre in your relationship with him. Accustomed to having Satoru, or you, dancing on this blurry tango of an unlabeled relationship, you at first didn’t think much of it. He was teasing, wanting to taunt you. Exactly like you did yesterday, and how he did the day before, and you the day even before. Yeah, a kiss meant nothing. After all, why do people care so much about lips touching each other ? You didn’t with him.
Yet, when he did, you still had a confused face. At first you were busy with baking the cookies he begged you to prepare this morning. He even licked your cheek when you accidently put chocolate on your skin. Gross ? He didn’t know this word. But then, the second right after, he chastly kissed your lips. As if it was the natural order of things. First licking your cheek, then kissing you. 
"Hmm ?" you hummed surprised. Looking at him with a confused expression only made the white haired man shrug. He went back to form the cookie dough in his large hands like nothing happened.
"What ?" he asked.
"What was that ?" you insisted, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t mad or anything. Just intrigued.
"What was what ?" he answered, acting dumb. Well, he didn’t need to act to be dumb. But you kept that to yourself. You exhale through your nose and nudge him. He almost makes the cookie fall. Thankfully, he caught it in time.
"Satoru…" you say through your teeth to show him that you weren’t playing around and wanted him to answer. A real answer.
"A kiss ?" he simply explained. As if you actually were the dumb one here, not him. Bloody hell. He could be annoying when he started to act like this.
"No shit Sherlock," you groan. Satoru glances at your irritated facial expression, which results in only making him chuckle. His dimples embellish his cheeks and you end up rolling your eyes playfully.
"Well, I wasn’t expecting you to understand, was I Watson ?" he comes back with this arrogant voice of his. You snort, but wisely decide to not follow this little game of his and concentrate on finishing this baking session. It’s already been one hour that you both were at it, only because of your bickering.
 Whatever. It was just a kiss.
A kiss that felt good, actually. Maybe you wanted it to happen again. Why not ? After all, you would simply get back at him.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Barely some hours later, your little sleepover with your best friend came to an end. It was time to sleep, even though whenever you said that, you both would start to talk and giggle in the darkness of the night like kids scared to get caught by their parents for not sleeping in time. After some endless laughing and chatting, you finally fell asleep at the poor expense of Satoru that ached to talk more to you. He knew he had to rest. Tomorrow will be a big day at work. Missions, teaching, missions, meetings with the higher ups, missions, paperwork, and then his possible death due to exhaustion. Not like they would let him die easily. Instead, he decides to gaze at your sleeping form. 
In the middle of the night, Satoru liked to stare at you because of how peaceful the world was at this time. Not in a creepy way or another bizarre staring type. No. He liked to gaze at your pretty face and soft breathing. Because in those short moments of solitude in the chaos of his mind, he wasn’t pretending. He wasn’t pretending to be The Strongest, nor he wasn’t having a semi fake persona that was too loud, too obnoxious, too cheerful and too annoying.
No. He was just Satoru. A simple man that loved his best friend maybe too much. Or his heart might had a lot of free space, and he decided to occupy it mainly by your presence. 
He liked those moments too because your face was at its calmest. He could freely admire your beauty with the softest gaze he ever had, not afraid to show how much he loved you, how much he craved for you. It simply was only him and himself in this situation. 
Softly, the back of his fingers caress your puffy cheek from the pillow. His lips form somewhat in between a pained smile and a cracked smirk of amusement at your funny face. It was something you never knew. Never knew how softhearted he was for you. How gentle he could brush his skin against yours. How devoted his stare was on you, as if you were the mere reflection of the universe. How weak he was for you. But, a weakness was something he couldn’t afford to show. Not this one, not even to you, maybe even less to himself.
He kisses your hand.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
In the morning, Satoru was already whining and being grumpy about the busy day that was awaiting for him. While you come back from the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you pat his back.
"You can do it. No worries. And in between you and me, we both know you will absolutely skip your meeting and your paperwork this evening. Am I right ?"
" ‘Been there, done that," he admits with this stupid grin of his and his insufferable dimples. You chuckle as you go on your tip toes and peck his lips. The kiss was as simple as that. Something fleeting, volatile. A soft press of your lips against his. Just like how he did it yesterday in the afternoon. But Satoru didn’t expect you to take him back on that, resulting in his dumbfounded face while staring at you.
"Be serious for once," you reply and go back to search for your outfit of the day. You ignore him, trying to not crack a laugh. And why not tease him a bit more ? Satoru always changes his clothes in front of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You quickly got used to it. On the other hand, you never were as comfortable as him to be nude and change like that in front of his eyes. 
Well, all things come to an end. Today is part of one of them.
You take off the pants of your pajamas and switch to the ones you will wear today. Now, your shirt is on the floor, revealing your nude chest. Satoru thought his eyes were playing with him and he accidentally let out an awkward stutter of surprise. You nonchalantly finish putting on clean clothes as you see a glimpse of his red face.
"Hum, nice boobs, lol, ahah," he suddenly says in what is supposed to sound like a laugh while he pats your back in a manly way. You turn around to look at him with your eyebrows raised.
"What the fuck was that ?"
"I don’t know, I panicked !" he exclaims dramatically. Wow, you almost never saw him act like that. It was hard to break down the confident persona of this man. Did you manage to embarrass The Gojo Satoru himself ? You smirk.
"You always change in front of me, can’t I now ?" you ask a rhetorical question.
"Of course you can. I didn’t expect you to do it, like, this morning ?" he defends himself as he rolls his eyes. He grabs his bag that was on the floor of your bedroom.
"You got flashed. Just like when you flashed me your ass last time while you changed in front of me. You know what is worse ? We literally were talking about bakery buns at the same moment  !" you recall as you laugh. He follows you in your laughter and the two of you end up walking towards the entrance of your apartment.
"We both flashed our buns then. But I know you like my ass, yeah ?" he teases while waving his eyebrows charmingly as he puts on his shoes and jacket. It was a bit chilly this morning, but the weather will quickly go up and the sun will warm the city.
"I won’t bodyshame you…" you whisper in an attempt to taunt him.
"What is that supposed to mean ?!" he scoffs as he pauses in the middle of wrapping his black blindfold around his bright blue eyes.
"Nothing," you mutter looking away. For obvious reasons, you were joking. His ass was hot. But you prefer to be mean. He deserved some ego breaking. It was too big after all.
"Forget what I said about you having nice boobs, hmpf !" Satoru huffs as he turns his back to you while opening the door of your place. It was still early, and he always started his day earlier than yours. Meaning that when he came to sleep at your apartment (almost everyday, as if this man was homeless) he was the first one to leave.
"Are you pouting right now ?" you ask while getting closer, your smile getting bigger thanks to the immense amusement you had when mocking your best friend. His face distorts and his lips try to stay in a thin line of anger. 
"Goodbye, y/n," he answers as he steps outside grumpily. 
"Ahahah, you really are pouting !"
Before stepping away, he reluctantly turns around and ends up kissing the top of your head. He never missed doing that specific gesture. It was his sign of affection. But, this time, his lips fall chastity right on yours before he slams the door to somewhat show he still was sulking at you. What a baby. 
In the silence of your place after he left, your fingers softly caress the tip of your lips. Savoring once again in your imagination the feeling of his kiss. You started to really like this new habit of his. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
11 PM. was the hour when your best friend came back to your (kinda his) place. Seemingly, the atmosphere shifted right the moment he stepped inside. His mood was clearly at the lowest. As you were originally sitting on your couch, occupied with reading a book, the moment you stand up to greet him, Satoru is on you. His long arms wrap around your body, the bickering and him being mad at you long forgotten. Soon, his whole figure is leaning against yours like a cocoon. The tip of his nose shifts against your neck, his hair tickling your skin as his face is snuggled in the crook of your shoulder. His blindfold was already on the ground.
"Had a bad day ?" you ask softly.
"I need to recharge. Let me stay like this," he mumbles in an exhausted sigh. He smelled like fresh air, a mix of his cologne and rain. You remember it rained one hour ago. Was he out on a mission ? Thinking about it, you hug him as well and in a comforting embrace you bring him to the couch. He directly sank all his body weight on top of yours. Not like you cared, you were long used to him doing that. As long as you would not show any sign of dying because of a lack of oxygen, he would continue to do this for quite forever.
"Feeling better ?" you end questioning after some minutes of silence. 
"Not quite," he whispers. He raises his head, blue eyes staring right back at yours. You feel his breath falling against your chin. You don’t say anything when his mouth lands on yours. Tonight, the kiss lasts longer. Maybe because Satoru is tired, and the feeling of your lips brings him enough comfort for him to want to make it longer than a peck. You didn’t mind. It was warm, soft, like the sun caressing your skin on a summer afternoon. 
"Now, it’s better," he says as he puts his head back on your torso. You smile. Even if that dynamic was new, it was the most natural thing that ever happened in between the two of you. Maybe because your lips always belonged together. You pet his hair as you think about kisses. His kisses.
"Come on, go take a shower. You stink," you lie as you smile playfully at him. He groans while rolling his eyes at your teasing. Satoru reluctantly rises from you, and stretches his sore limbs in a yawn.
"Bitch, I literally smell better than you," he answers as he waves his hands in front of him to show his body as if he was the incarnation of a bottle of perfume. You can’t help but snicker, holding your nose.
"Ewwww, get away from me ! For the love of God, use some soap !" you exclaim as you push him with your free hand. He immediately wraps his arm around you and grabs your cheeks painfully.
"How can you be such a liar and so mean to me at the same time, when you know I had a bad day ?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, strengthening his hold on your poor cheeks.
"Having a bad day didn’t stop you from being stinky. Did you shit yourself ?" you counter attack, resulting in Satoru laughing loudly and heartedly at your words.
"Remind me to call you if someone tries to bully me, because you are the worst," he sighs while shaking his head in amusement, rubbing the top of your head before walking towards your shower. You can’t help but smile.
"That’s it, go away, you stinky man," you joke. Quickly, you slap his ass to reinforce your need to annoy him. It was like a drug, and Satoru couldn’t say anything about it since he could be way worse than you when it was about being annoying.
He turns around in a swift move to face you after feeling the sting on his butt cheek.
"Oh, you’re not getting away after doing this, y/n," he chuckles in a threatening way. Sensing danger, you intend to run away. Barely two steps towards your safe place, aka your bedroom, he chases after you and catches your body in no time. You yell of surprise and squirm like a lion in a cage, knowing your incoming punishment.
"I’m sorry, go away !" you try to make him step back but that was near impossible. His hold on you was too strong. It was useless.
"What’s wrong y/n, scared that I will hit too hard ?" he teases as he whispers in your ear. You shiver head to toe at the feeling of the vibration of his voice against the skin of your neck. He chuckles, while you stare at him.
"I didn’t hit hard. So if you do, we will have a problem Gojo," you answer intimidatingly as you call him by his family name on purpose.
"Wanna finish that on the ring, l/n ? I mean, the ring is your bed, so…" he wanders. His dimples show. You take the opportunity to dash away, but he directly grabs you against the wall and slaps your ass. The sound vibrates in the air as you yelp.
"You morron, that hurts !" you exclaim as you nudge his side angrily and face him when he frees your limbs. The first thing you see is his victory smile. Your heart beats harder instantly. 
"No it didn’t, I barely put any force in it. You’re just weak," he justifies himself, shrugging.
"Yes you did !" you protest pointing at him. He was having fun. You had less fun.
"Dare I say you’re not into spanking, y/n ?" he asks innocently.
"Oh fuck off," you retort as you turn around, walking towards your bedroom. At least you weren’t running like earlier.
"Gladly ! Wanna join me ?" he counters back.
"Go to shower."
"Wanna join me ?" he repeats.
You slam the door of your bedroom.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
"Let’s play roblox," Satoru exclaims for the seventh time in a row. The moment he came back from his shower and jumped on your bed, it was over for you. How could this man still have energy after having such a long and exhausting day ? That was a mystery. You groan as you turn your back to him.
"No, I’m tired. Tomorrow," you briefly answer in a sigh. You shift in a comfortable position. At the same time he leans over you, two arms caging you on the mattress. You sink on the sheets.
"You hate me," he replies.
"No."
"You hate me," he insists, face getting closer to yours.
"Yes I do," you end up saying, rolling your eyes.
"You hate m- wait what ?"
"Yes I hate you. Now, if you may… Good night !" you finish your sentence by turning your face towards the wall and closing your eyes. You hear a snort, and then lips fall on your cheek. Soon, teeth join in. Nibbling your skin was apparently Satoru’s favorite thing to do.
"You don’t really hate me," he whispers, more like to reassure himself. His breath falls on your neck and his mouth lands on your ear. More kisses.
"I don’t, but I will if you don’t let me sleep," you whisper back, keeping your eyes closed. 
"I wanted to marry you on roblox. It would be fun," he whines. Now his cheek rests against yours while he snuggles, pouting against your tired body.
"Can we do that on roblox ?" you question, sceptical. He moves his body to swallow yours in the most natural way there is.
"I think so."
"Then let’s get married now, not on roblox," you sigh, hoping that will make him stop bothering you for the rest of the night. He tilts his head, stopping to kiss and nibble your jawline like a dog. He seems thoughtful, and smiles, but then again quickly gets lost in the track of his thoughts.
"Alright. But we don’t have a priest, and I’m not wearing my special smoking. Oh, and the ring-"
"Oh my god Satoru, you don’t need all this !" you exclaim, just wanting to sleep.
"Of course I do !"
"Gojo Satoru, do you want to be my husband ? Yes, good. Now, l/n y/n do I want to be your wife ? Yes. Now you may kiss the bride ! Yoohoo !" you say quickly to just put an end to it.
Satoru blinks once, realizing what you just said, before grabbing your face and kissing you as quickly as possible. It wasn’t like earlier. It wasn’t as soft, as fleeting. This kiss was full of force, of hunger, despair and craving. It lasts so much longer as well. The moment you part to breathe, the second that follows, he is back on you. Mouth melting against yours. Urgent, needy, full of love and desire. Satoru was dying to kiss you more, and more, and even more.
You giggle at his eagerness, not losing time to even question why he kissed you like you two were long lost lovers. Maybe you were.
"Satoru, you don’t let me sleep !" you chuckle, but it’s quickly swallowed by his lips.
"I want more kisses," he implores, like a child desperately asking for the most precious thing in the world. Begging to have a greedy taste of the succulent flavor of your skin.
Maybe best friends aren’t supposed to kiss like lovers. Satoru would answer that you two weren’t best friends. You were worse. It didn’t matter to have a label for the sake of identifying your relationship with him. As long as he could freely love you, and you as well, it’s all that mattered. All he wanted was to be by your side and to forever lose himself in your lips.
Before kissing you again, he says : 
– Waiter, a cup of kisses please ! 
398 notes ¡ View notes
lucidfairies ¡ 4 months ago
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— m'lady [sevika]
part one
synopsis: your sister was in need of something, anything to reel her in, and a handsome new knight was just the one for the job.
pairing: sister's!knight!sevika x queen!reader
warnings: forbidden/off limits, mentions of parental death, light angst, essentially an introduction to the rest of the series, lots of sexual tension, eventual smut (see: parts 4, 6, probably more)
wc: 3k
a/n: check out the @sevsgiirl cameo ;) so much love to them, she's helping me so much with this so go follow them and love on all their work!!!!
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2 YEARS PRIOR
Your father's death came and went with haste.
He was a noble man, the King. After your mother's death, he took control of Piltover and led with proficiency. There was never a moment where he wasn't thinking of the people, rather than himself. Your mother was born of royal blood, and married your father against her parents will. And together, they lead beautifully.
You said that all in the obituary, before he was lowered into the ground to rest next to the Queen. It was one week prior that he was joking about your queenhood, and the following week he was dead, only bringing that joke into reality.
Everything moved too fast for you. Your father died, you hosted his funeral at the castle, and five days later you were being crowned. The coronation was a dull thing; the colors weren't as bright in your eyes, and the dress was simply another designed to make you look ready to assume the duty of Queen. You weren't.
You couldn't find joy in the occasion. While most girls dreamt of their sweet sixteen, you spent nights dreaming about your coronation. You've had the colors picked out since you were 12 - a gorgeous mix of yellows and pinks, and even some light blue. Spring colors. However, as a young girl, nobody told you what had to come before the coronation for it to happen.
As your eyes drilled holes into the floor and your knees splintered from the old wood of the church steps, the royal priest placed your crown atop your head, finishing the ceremony with the exchange of the sword of state. You rose, he blessed you, and it was over. You could retreat back to your quarters and simply not attend the party, stating to the townspeople that you had fallen ill, but they should enjoy the party in your absence.
And now, you were Queen.
What came after that might've even been worse. Upon taking over the entire kingdom and all duties, you also took over the responsibility of Sarah - your younger sister. At 13, she was a brilliant thing, but also a hell of a lot for you to handle. To you, she was a rebellious child who channelled her guilt into sneaking out of the castle and piercing her ears.
You wouldn't pretend like it wasn't a burden, all of it. Sometimes you spent hours thinking about what it would be like to go back to when you didn't have to fret over foreign relations and the Piltover school system, when both of your parents were alive. There were nine years before your sister existed, nine years that you clung onto like a crutch.
You remembered the day your parents found out about Sarah's existence clearly. Your mother told you in your bedroom, and you were excited. You had no idea what would happen five months later, when your mother had an emergency birth at 22 weeks. She died that day, and so did your excitement.
It took you years to stop resenting your sister. Like most kids did, you blamed her for the death of your mother, but you never told her. After years of therapy, you worked through your resentment, but her constant presence and reliance on you led to the feelings creeping back up your spine, and you knew then that you had to do anything in your power to stop them.
PRESENT
“Elora,” you yelled from your writing room, as you continued to glance over a law that is on track to pass. She arrived in front of you in a moment's time, hands behind her back with a small smile. “I need you to find a knight for my sister. Organize interviews for the coming day and make sure to run background checks.”
“Yes ma'am.” She nodded and turned on her heel, quickly leaving to begin researching and organizing. You required the knight quickly; in a few short weeks, Piltover would be hosting its annual creation ball, that you had to plan all of. You needed Sarah safe and off your plate, so that you could focus on passing legislation and planning the biggest event of your royal career.
After countless attempts at reigning Sarah in, you had finally given up. You had put her in therapy and in public school, given her a royal advisor, and even offered to pay her to act right, and nothing managed to get through to her. You hoped that, now that she was 15, she would've moved past this part of her life, but she has yet to.
This was the one thing that she was absolutely against. She insisted that she didn't need a person, especially a man, following her around all the time. She hated the idea of someone posted outside her door. But her wants were too late for your needs - she would be dead by 16 if she kept up the way she was acting.
You would need three of them - each taking eight hours shifts to cover all 24 hours of the day. You had three, and you hardly noticed them. Sarah's guards would be no different, and you wouldn't take her no as an answer.
The first interview was nothing less than abhorrent bland. It was a man, of course, who barely met the qualifications and basically had to talk Elora into letting him interview. He failed knight training because of drugs, and had to retake it at much too old. He wasn’t in shape, and he refused to refer to you as Queen, rather than princess. You asked him to leave quickly after.
Terribly, the rest of the interviews followed the first one steadily. You had two potential candidates lined up, neither of which you were particularly fond of, but it didn’t matter. They met the requirements, and that was what was important. But, with the rate that the interviews were going, you truly didn’t believe that you would ever find a third, and that was an issue. No knight would settle for twelve hour days, it was against kingdom policy anyway.
Your final interview of the day was late, and found you swiftly. You were tired, and damn close to simply asking Elora to do the interview for you. You feared that if this woman wasn’t exactly what you wanted, you would absolutely flip your shit at her. In between each meeting, plans crept up your neck and you scribbled as much as you could down before the contestant arrived, and you were desperate to hide in your chambers and sort through all of your notes. But you were far from that.
The woman that stood before you as Elora opened the door was nothing like you had expected. It wasn’t like you got pictures when you looked over the recruits’ files, simply just a handout from the knight academy that was hardly legible. She was extremely tall, towering over Elora and eating up the space in the room, and her muscle wasn’t that of anyone that you had seen before - man or woman. Elora looked over at you with rosy cheeks and a hinting smile before she shut the door and left you to your business.
It was almost sensual the way the woman bowed to your presence, but kept her dark gaze on your eyes. Even bent at the waist, she took up a grand amount of space, in the best way possible. It was as if you couldn’t look away, even if she was burning you. Your eyes begged for hers, prayed on hers. There wasn’t anything in the world other than you and the pair of eyes gazing back at you.
Her eyes were something of magic - a dark mix of steel greys that got darker as she scanned your face. They almost made you shiver, the way she was looking at you. Her eyes fit perfectly in respect to her face; the high cheekbones, sharp nose, broad lips, scar drawn across her cheek. It gave her the most perfect blend of masculine and feminine, put together in one. She was beautifully a sight for sore eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Queen,” she spoke low and smooth, taking your hand as she stood up. She left a kiss to your knuckle, something that none of the other recruits had even dreamt of doing. She had a sense of unrequited confidence to her that oozed, and it was drawing you in far more than you wished it was.
“The pleasure is mine,” you spoke before you could think, clearly your throat with haste to subdue the tension that she had created. “Please, sit,” you insisted, taking your seat as she took hers. You couldn’t help but watch as she sunk down in her chair and shifted her legs, letting them fall open wide. You swallowed, quickly averting your gaze to the paper in your hand with her work on it. “I must say, I did not have time in between applicants to look over your resume, but it is incredibly impressive,”
“That is the goal, after all.” She snickered, and you pursed your lips to restrict yourself from grinning. She had numerous highly selective and incredibly prestigious positions listed for her, and she passed at the top of her class at the academy, however, she graduated several years before any of the other applicants had.
“So, Sevika, I must ask what led you to leaving your post with the Kiramman’s? It appears as if you held the post for several years, and it's a highly competitive program, after all.” She sighed, shifting awkwardly and scratching the back of her neck.
“There was an incident that led me to become temporarily unable to provide them with the service that they needed. I chose to step down under the idea that I was not serving them to the extent that they needed.” You nodded slowly.
“May I ask what this ‘incident’ was?” You pressed. It could’ve been anything, with the vagueness of her speech. Slowly, with caution, she pulled back the partial cape that was covering the left half of her body. You had wondered why she was still wearing it when she appeared in your office, it was unusual and you were sure Elora had offered to take it.
Under it was a gorgeously mechanical prosthetic arm, one that looked as if it took years to build. “I can promise you, ma’am, that my injury doesn’t negate my ability to care for the princess. In fact, I believe that it makes me a stronger candidate-”
“Sevika, you aren’t ruled out of the competition simply because of a disability,” you insisted, softly. “It was the Kiramman bombing, I assume?” She nodded briskly. “I see. Well, moving past that, aside from the oath of Piltover, what does loyalty to the royal family mean to you?” You sat the paper down and clasped your hands on the oak table.
“Loyalty means everything to me, my Queen. There is nothing in the world that could make me turn my back on the post I’m assigned to. Nothing.” She insisted. You noticed the gap in her teeth as you spoke, and you almost forgot to listen to the words she was uttering.
“And if another realm were to offer you money or land in exchange for betrayal, what do you see yourself doing, honestly? I’ll kindly remind you that all of these answers are private and not shared.” She didn’t have to think before answering this one.
“Like I said, ma’am, I value loyalty above all else. Once I’m committed to a position, there is nothing that could draw me from it, especially something like money or land. My commitment to you means more than anything.” You couldn’t help the warmth that flooded your cheeks, even though you knew deep down that she was just trying to butter you up into hiring her.
“If you did not morally agree with an order given to you by the princess or myself, how would you respond?” She thought for a moment before answering this question. You couldn’t think of anything morally or ethically wrong that you would ever order her to do, but the questions were left by your father from when he hired knights, and you trusted his judgement over your own.
“In either situation, I would bring that up with you. If I don’t agree with somethin’, I won’t just blindly follow orders. And if it's something that I can’t do, I will resign from my duties.” You nodded, scribbling a few things down on the paper.
“If you would like a straight answer, I’m going to hire you undoubtedly. However, I need to warn you before you accept this position that my sister is quite a… handful. She can be difficult to deal with and she doesn’t often listen to directions. It may be difficult keeping her in check and protecting her to the best of your ability.” She laughed, and you couldn’t imagine why.
“If you think she’s bad, you clearly haven’t met a young Caitlyn Kiramman. Man, was that woman a lot to handle. You couldn’t help but join her laughs at that one. You had known the Kirammans for quite some time, and it was a well known fact that Caitlyn was quite the trickster in her developing years, much like Sarah. But Caitlyn’s was rooted in grief, like Sarah’s.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but Sarah hasn’t healed from the death of our parents, and it can be difficult for her to regain control sometimes. So, that being said, if you don’t think this is the position for you, it’s completely understood.”
“No, I think this is definitely the position for me. I’ve trained in both physical handling and mental handling. I’m sure that I can meet all of your sister’s needs within my station. I won’t let you down, m’lady.” The name rolled off her tongue unlike any other, even though thousands of other people had called you the exact same thing. “It can’t possibly be that difficult with a boss as pretty as you.” You couldn’t escape the blush that the woman gave you.
“You’ll start promptly tomorrow with two other soldiers. I’ll train you for a portion of the day and my general will spend the rest of the day with you. It was lovely meeting you Sevika, and thank you for your service to our kingdom. I’ll see you tomorrow, Elora will show you out.” She rose with you, bowing once again.
“Thank you for the opportunity, my Queen.” She shot you a smile as she made her way to the door, where Elora was already waiting. Once Elora had walked her out, you let out a breath that you had been holding. The woman was more than attractive. She made you forget about the gala and how taxing your day had been - if you hadn’t taken notes, you would have zero recollection of anything she said. She was entrancing, enchanting, and you knew that this was going to cause a problem.
Elora found her way back into your writing room steadily after she presumably walked Sevika to the door. “Miss,” she chirped with excitement. “Now, that has never been my particular taste, but I must say that that woman was very attractive.” Elora was never the outspoken type, so when she plopped down in the seat across from you and fanned herself, you were more than a little surprised.
“I must agree,” you said, quietly. It hardly mattered whether you found her attractive or not. In fact, it mattered not. She was to protect your sister, and that was that. “She worked for Kiramman House, I would’ve hired her on the spot if I knew that. She’ll start tomorrow with Loris and Steb, could you make sure the Generals are aware that this is happening?” Elora stood, wiping her hands on the apron covering her dress.
“Yes ma’am, right away.” She left you with a suggestive smile as she made her way out of the writing room and away, and you stopped to think about it for a moment. Think about everything. This was the first person you had found undeniably appealing since long before your father’s death, and it made you wonder. Why her? Why someone who was the definition of off limits? You couldn’t bear the thought of distracting someone as qualified as Sevika from her work, not that you would ever explore that option in the first place.
You had come to a point in your life where you believed that the castle and the kingdom and all the needs of others were more of substance than your own. As a queen, you couldn’t see yourself settling down or bringing someone into your life who sought to slow you down. You had no room in your brain or heart to focus on another human being to the extent that they needed, and that was okay with you, at least for now.
But gods, did the woman have pretty eyes.
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omgfangirlland ¡ 6 months ago
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The Shadows That Nurture 16
Hi! Ch 17 is done and will refocus back on Batsis 🙃idk when ch 18 will be done because I feel like I'll rewrite a lot of it over and over again until I either like it or get tired of it :))) so, ENJOY!
Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 16 >>next
Jason was the first to walk into your room. Not like he hasn’t memorized every little detail. He enjoyed sneaking in to look at your drawings, seeing what he had missed while he was dead, the trinkets you had. Unlike the others who were afraid to touch stuff, to even look around, he walked around like he owned the place. And then his foot fully broke through the already brittle floorboard you broke.
The crime lord pulled his foot out, cussing and swatting away at Bruce’s worried words and helping hand. “Huh.” Jason furrowed his brows, crouching and pulling out two shoe boxes and a few dusty drawings. “Never saw these.” He said while sitting down with one box, the drawings were quickly snatched by Damian and the other box was opened by Duke, everyone taking a journal from it.
Jason’s box was full of sketchbooks and newspaper clippings of her achievements. These sketchbooks seemed to be focused on the family and their bat counterparts. He snorts at a drawing of a Robin where you wrote “Booty shorts are a terrible choice for fighting crime” immediately showing it to Dick. “That’s your robin.” The acrobat mutters, pouting. “What?!” Jason pulls the sketchbook back to squint at it. “Nuh-uh! And even if it was, it’s still your fault! I was trying to imitate and impress you.”
Dick in any other situation would have teased him for the slip, but he couldn’t. He remembers how angry he was at being essentially fired and replaced, not for being unable to continue, but because Bruce felt guilt at how close Dick was to death. And then Jason came, and then he died. Dick remembers how mean he was to both Jason and you, just because he was afraid. Afraid of getting attached, afraid of letting someone in just for them to end up like his parents, and afraid of being replaced and brushed off.
But that’s what he did to you. He and Jason learned to get along, but to you, he was still distant, he brushed you off despite how he was afraid of that happening to him. He remembers always glancing over his shoulder at you after finding an excuse to not interact with you and how it always hurt seeing how sad and defeated you looked, how one day you just stopped even acknowledging him unless he talked to you.
The journals didn’t help his guilt. “I always wanted a big brother. Richard doesn’t seem to like me, but he has started getting along with Jason. I think it’s because I’m a girl and Jason is into gymnastics like him. Maybe he'll spare me some glances if I show interest in that too.” Ignoring how many times you misspelled gymnastics, his fingers traced the words a few rows below simply stating that he refused and yelled at you for getting in the way.
Stephanie and Duke were raking the little books for a mention of them besides “Bruce took in another kid.” They both felt guilty for not trying to get to know you, but while Duke was fixated on him being older and knowing he should have tried, Stephanie thought it was weird how you didn’t come to either. You were still a kid, still young, still curious- so why didn’t you go out of your way to greet them to get to know them, even Damian asked them questions. “Stephanie and Duke do seem nice, friendly. But so did the others. It’ll be another rejection.” Oh- you had given up trying to fit in their lives by then.
Cassandra felt a lot of emotions, sadness mainly. She didn’t mean to come off as rude and mean, like she didn’t care because she did. She cared. She still does- it’s just the anxiety you displayed, the sadness that slipped through- she didn’t know how to deal with it, it was overwhelming to her, so she ran, hid, and watched you from the shadows. Cassandra loved watching you paint and take care of the garden, it was her favorite activity. She handed the diary she finished to Bruce. She has many regrets, but this one she’ll fight to fix.
Barbara and Tim didn’t want to read what you had to say about them, they knew. So, they stuck to Alfred to see the many trophies you had. They brushed you off, brushed off anything you tried to do to impress them, Tim going the extra mile by belittling you. Barbara wasn’t present much, she wasn’t Bruce’s kid. But Tim, like the other, was. He saw how heartbroken you were when they’d have family nights and nobody bothered inviting you, how after Cassandra came and they welcomed her with open arms you just stopped bothering, ignoring everyone, doing your own thing. He didn’t say anything, didn’t fight for you, he saw everyone ignore and brush you off, so he did the same, finding you annoying for no other reason than you simply existed. You existed and were the only person he could be mean with without anyone saying anything. The only person he could express his anger on. Tim cringed at the memories. You were just a child.
Alfred knew he mostly gave you attention out of pity rather than a pure need to take care of a kid who needed reassurance and love. His loyalty and care stood with Bruce, first and foremost- and yet it hurt to see himself through your eyes. Cold, only doing his job, just another shadow, were some of the words you used. He couldn’t read more, it reminded him too much of the words he used to refer to his own father once upon a time, so he carried on with cleaning. His hands shook as he wiped medals, trophies, shelves, dusty paintings, anything he could.
“Why are the science and sports medals hidden behind the others? They’re still first place.”  Tim couldn’t help but mutter out loud. “She didn’t do those because she liked or wanted to. She won those to impress us, specifically, you two.” Jason muttered as his eyes skimmed through the diary in his hand, skipping things about him. He changed, he isn’t running after Dick anymore, there’s no need for him to read what he knows he messed up. You already told him, anyway.
Damian is honestly happy you left before he came to the manor. Seeing the drawing for more than just lines, the subtle way you drew hints that the family were barely strangers to you, always in their shadows, their back always turned to you, their faces always devoid of features, just blank voids- he knew what you were trying to depict, he saw the anger and sadness and despair in every stroke. To him, these were as good as words written in your diaries. He is happy because he didn’t want to see how you would have drawn him, what kind of feeling you’d attribute to him because he knew he wouldn’t have been kind. Damian would have seen you as a threat, an obstacle to his place as the rightful heir. He would have been mean, throwing insults, he would have tried to kill you. He also knows better now, they have lost their chance, he was sure of it, but not him.
Bruce had been clutching the same journal for a while, his eyes unable to leave the little throwaway comment in a long paragraph. “Officer Gordon lied to me. He lied when he said Bruce Wayne is my father, he lied when he said Bruce would love me.” He’s been afraid to see more, but what else could he do? He wasn’t stupid. Emotionally constipated, sure, but he knew his indifference and coldness hurt you, especially at a time when he knew all you needed was warmth and hugs, but he was so scared of the whispers in the back of his head. He was sure keeping his distance would have kept you safer than him being close to you.
His eyes continued reading, and reading, and reading, until he couldn’t anymore, the tears making everything too blurry for him to make out. The younger you blamed herself, deemed herself inadequate for his love and attention, but as you grew you realized that you’re not to blame, you were the child, and he was the adult. “He’s supposed to be my dad but he doesn’t even act like my legal guardian. If it wasn’t for him being a public figure, I would have forgotten how he looks.” And “He publicly recognized everyone else. Everyone but me. Is he so ashamed of me that he just wants me to rot locked away in this hell he calls home?” just kept flashing in his mind as he buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He was relieved that he didn’t remember how you sounded... He just cries harder at the traitorous thought.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“-and you know, getting used to the dorms and all of that.” Mark shrugs. Before you could tell Debbie about your day, you covered your mouth, sneezing into your elbow. “Bless you.” Debbie and Mark said after your third sneeze in a row. “Thank you. That was weird.” You hummed while sending Jason a text to stop talking about you. Lately, superstitions have grabbed a hold of you. “Um, anyway- I spent my day like usual, helping around, uh, spent quite a long time at the altar meditating- John taught me how to summon stuff.”
Your smile matched Debbie’s once she complimented you for doing so much in one day, chest puffing at her attention. Your eyes went back to your phone only when the conversation changed, being met with two photos, one of Bruce curled on your bed, clutching one of your plushies to his chest while reading and crying, the second was of Dick in a similar state, but on the ground clutching at your drawing and paintings. “Couldn’t catch the others.” Jay texted after. You cringed and swiped your thumb to text back. “Fuck that’s pathetic. Weirdos. Tell Bruce to stop touching my plushies.”
Your brows furrowed, your other hand immediately zooming in on the picture of the man. “That mother- mmm.” You stopped before you could cuss, texting the crime lord again. “And stop reading my shit! They’re supposed to be private!!!” Jason didn’t respond back.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Damian’s eyes tracked over every single letter his mother wrote, memorizing every word, every phrase, skipping over her displeasure with how his father had treated you, over her questions on how the man had been treating him.
From how effortlessly his mother deemed that his sister had moved cars, buildings, and people, to how Talia had called her a lovely young woman but starved for praise and love, mentions of her lip trembling at the genuine compliment Talia had given to how willing his sister was to help with even mundane stuff such as carrying bags for the elderly- he took it all in.  
He memorized everything and then let the letters about the few days Talia had observed you go through the flame of the little candle he had lit, the fire slowly eating the paper as he set it in a tray. His eyes moved to the papers branded with Gotham High’s emblem. Damian doesn’t need the letters, not when he’ll crawl his way into your life soon enough.
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stevie-petey ¡ 8 months ago
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episode eight: papa
“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.” “Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives. “Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”
Summary: steve is on the brink of a constant nervous breakdown, eddie questions your taste in music, you and max go halfsies on your lives, angry hicks are scary, and the end of the world is near so of course now is the time for every emotional conversation ever. duh !
Rating: general, some swearing, violence
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, talk of death, lowkey suicidal thoughts but barely ??
Words: 15.9k
Before you swing in: hey gang !!! this chapter is a goddamn monster. it took forever to write for a million reasons, but the payoff is worth it in my biased opinion. we get a LOT of conversations in this chapter, all that have been brewing for seasons !!!!! the narrative is narrativing !!! we only have one more chapter, so sit back, relax, n enjoy :)
–
When Steve was a little kid, he would have nightmares about losing his parents. 
They started when he was seven. In the first dream, his mother had been in the car. She was driving away from him, beckoning him to follow, but Steve’s scrawny legs couldn’t keep up; he hadn’t reached her in time. 
He remembers waking up screaming for her. The terror of abandonment was heavy within his chest. It stifled his breathing. He remembers thinking that he was going to die. 
May Harrington rushed into her son’s room upon hearing his screams. She clutched him to her chest, smoothed down his wild hair. Steve had been too upset to explain the dream to her, then. His body simply melted into her embrace, relieved that she had still been there with him. That she hadn’t really left him. 
The dreams continued after that night. 
One time he had dreamt that his father locked him in the closet and told him that no one would ever see him again. Another night, Steve dreamt that his mother no longer loved him. That his love for her hadn’t been enough to convince her to stay. 
The dreams came sporadically. Sometimes Steve would go weeks without one. Other times, he would have one every night for a month. 
His father detested the dreams. He loathed what they did to his son. Not because of the fear that plagued Steve’s now pale skin, but because of how weak they made him. Richard Harrington would grip Steve’s arm tightly and command him to stop crying. The grip would leave bruises alongside his tear stained face. 
When Steve was nine, now too old to be having such vivid nightmares, his mother rocked him back and forth in her arms after a particularly difficult nightmare. Steve’s hiccupping breath echoed his tightening grip on the woman. 
“Oh, my beautiful boy. You’ll never lose me.” May stroked his back, her soothing voice floated around Steve. 
Steve clutched his mother even tighter. “But what if I do?”
May coaxed his head from her neck. She looked at him with such tenderness, such love. Her fingers grazed Steve’s face gently as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. She hummed, her voice lovely as always. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“What secret, momma?” 
Steve will never forget the way his mother smiled at him. “When you love someone, you can never really lose them.”
And the secret settled a deep ache of uncertainty within her son. He loved hard and fast from then on. If Steve loved everyone he ever met, then he couldn’t lose them.
But then Steve was seventeen and he lost Nancy Wheeler.
Now Steve is nineteen and he’s about to lose you. 
One minute Nancy had been climbing up the rope. Your arms brushed Steve’s and your warmth reassured him that everything was going to be okay. You’d made it out. You were going to escape from the Upside Down and hold one another as soon as this was all over.
Until Nancy’s grip on the rope loosened and she fell. Steve barely had time to catch her before her dead weight landed upon him. Managing to stand her up, Steve finally realized what was happening. Her skin was pale and her body stiff.
She had gone into a vision. 
That’s when Steve turned to you. 
His entire world collapsed after that. You were frozen as well, as stiff as Nancy. The veins in your neck were pulled taunt. Steve thinks he screamed. 
And now he’s alone. You and Nancy have been taken from him. He can’t break you from whatever spell Vecna has the two of you under. 
“Y/N!” 
Steve doesn’t recognize his own voice. He can’t feel his body. He can’t feel yours beneath his hands as he desperately shakes you. Everything is numb from the fear that paralyzes him. 
The whites of your eyes blind him. Steve doesn’t know when they rolled back. 
“Steve, what’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. Every nerve in your brother’s body is on edge. Something isn’t right. You’re too still. 
“He’s-he’s got them!” Steve can’t bring himself to let go of you. He just wants to see the color in your eyes again. He wants you to wake up and laugh at him and call him stupid names and remind him that he’s yours. 
Above Steve he can hear screaming. Everyone starts shouting at one another, running around in a panic. No one knows what to do.
“Stay with me, angel.” Steve cradles your head. “Please.”
He can’t lose you. Steve wouldn’t survive a world without you in it. All the warmth and love within the world would leave the second you took your last breath. 
A body lands beside yours, tearing you out of Steve’s grasp. Seeing red, he turns, fists clenched and ready to throw a punch, but he only finds Dustin. The kid’s eyes are shell shocked, a manic look in them as he shakes his sister. 
“Do you have her walkman?” 
Steve almost can’t hear him over the pounding of his heart. “W-what?”
“Y/N’s walkman!” Dustin exclaims, rifting through your pockets. His hands are shaking and he can’t form any other thought besides finding the goddamn walkman. He knows you have it. He made sure that you wouldn’t go anywhere without it. “Steve, where is it?”
“I-I don’t know!” He can’t breathe. He’s too paralyzed by the idea of losing you forever. Then he remembers Nancy and it’s all too much. He can’t lose her either. She’s a part of him in a way that Steve will never be able to explain. “What about Nancy? What the hell do we do?”
“We need to find the fucking walkman.” When Dustin’s fingers feel plastic in your pocket, hope jumps in his throat. Letting out a breath, he pulls it out and quickly gets to work on unwrapping all the plastic that encases it. Only the wrapping is too thick, Dustin wants to scream. “Help me get this shit off!”
Steve yanks the device out of the boy’s grasp and claws at the mess of plastic and knots. Dustin had made sure to secure it when he left you at Lover’s Lake. While it kept the walkman bone dry, you’re now paying the price. It’s almost impossible to tear off. 
“Fuck!” Steve tries to bite through it, but it’s no use. 
“Give me it.” Dustin snatches the walkman back, now holding your knives. He starts cutting through the plastic quickly, but he notices Nancy start to convulse next to you. Panicking, Dustin shouts at Steve, “Help her!”
“But what about Y/N–”
“Now isn’t the goddamn time to argue!” Dustin screeches. He’s almost finished cutting through all the plastic. “I have Y/N. Focus on Nancy!”
It’s what you would want. Steve and Dustin both know this. And as much as it physically pains Steve to let go of you, he knows that you’d never forgive him if he allowed Nancy to die. 
Stumbling over his feet, he grabs her shoulders. Her body is as cold as yours. Her own whites of her eyes taunt Steve. Shaking Nancy, he screams up to the others, “Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!”
“I got it!” Dustin holds up the now freed walkman, cheering. He can save you. He will save you. All he has to do now is put the headphones over your ears and play the music you love and his sister will be okay.
But then your body starts to convulse. The sight is gruesome. Your fingers bend sideways, your neck snaps back, and your chest collapses into itself. Terrified, Dustin screams your name over and over again. 
Hearing the boy’s pained cries, Steve tears himself away from Nancy. When he sees your body shaking violently, bile and fury rise to his throat. “No.”
He’ll be damned if you die tonight. Steve grabs the walkman from Dustin and opens it. Inside, there’s only one tape. 
For bug.
“Henderson, look at me.” There’s a list of songs messily scrawled on it. Steve shoves the cassette in Dustin’s face, forcing him to read the tracks on it. “Which one is her favorite?” 
Dustin struggles to catch his breath. He forces his vision to sharpen, the words float around in his head. They’re all songs he doesn’t know. None of them would work, none of them except–
“The Beatles!” Dustin is already queuing the song, fingers shaking. They’re your favorite band. When you were younger, your father would softly play their songs on his guitar every Sunday morning. Dustin was never able to remember the lyrics, but you always did.
Steve shoves the headphones on you. Dustin presses play.
That’s when your body lifts. 
– 
Music. 
There is music. A familiar guitar progression. Someone used to strum their fingers to produce the same chords. Their rough timbre would accompany the strings and the sweet smell of pine and grass would lull you. 
There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed. 
Green. Over a hill there is a house. Floorboards creak beneath your feet and there is a yellow couch pressed against the window, overlooking the flowers in the garden. Somewhere there is laughter. You’re a little girl chasing your younger brother around the tree, giggling.
Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and remain.
A moving van. The boxes you spent hours packing are shoved into the vehicle roughly. A long drive. A small town, smaller than the one you ran away from. There is a new house with a yellow door to match the couch your mother got to keep. Across the street a boy with black hair is riding his bike. Your brother follows him. 
Night falls and you’re standing on someone’s porch. There’s a boy your age and his hair falls into his eyes. Words are exchanged. He tells you his name is Jonathan. Your hand touches his and suddenly the world doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. The front door opens. A girl tells you your brother is inside with hers. She’s shy, small and beautiful, but her eyes are cunning. 
All these places had their moments. With lovers and friends, I still can recall.
A smaller house owned by a woman who radiates warmth and love for you. Her sons and their adoration. Bug and bee and childhood nicknames. Sleepless nights filled with hushed laughter. Whispered I love you’s. The smell of fresh baked cookies and the sound of four boys who all view you as their sister. 
There’s a boy with pretty brown eyes and pink lips. Hands wrap around your waist as he saves you. Over and over again he saves you. He begs you for a nickname. His smile fills your lungs and you’re falling. Angel. He calls you angel. 
A girl with fiery red hair and a girl who prefers your touch over words. They giggle together. You dress them in your old clothes. Ice cream melts against your tongues and the summer heat kisses your cheeks. There’s another girl. She’s older. You're in a bathroom stall together and she laughs at all your jokes and calls you pretty girl.
Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I’ve loved them all.
An old man wearing a police hat. He reminds you of your father. Gruff and bitter but he lets you tease him. A cabin in the woods and the waffles he always made for you. A home he has made for you and his daughter. 
There are cold, blue eyes. The boy is your age but the anger within him resembles your father’s. He’s violent. Alone. He’s all alone. Blood drips from his body and you hear a girl scream his name. Billy. 
Your mother cradles your face as you cry. She tells you she’s sorry. Your brother tells you he misses who you used to be. The kindness that you burned to spite your father. 
Soft lips kiss your stained hands. The mouth whispers reassurances. He tells you he loves you. Late night drives. Kissing underneath the stars. Constants and honey and forgiveness. 
A charm bracelet. Building a fort in the rain. Biking to houses with a band of kids in tow. Singing songs in a field. Bickering and loyalty and friendship that leaves you in awe. 
Though I know I’ll never lose affection for people and things that went before.
Memories float through you, into you, around you. 
And you remember. 
I know I’ll often stop and think about them.
You remember everything. 
“Y/N!” 
Steve’s voice pulls you back to where you belong. He’s pleading. Dustin’s screams cut through the noise in your head. Everything is muffled. You can’t move. Why can’t you move? They’re screaming for you and you can’t get to them. 
In my life, I love you more.
But you love them. With everything within you, you love them. There is a blinding light of molten warmth of love in your rib cage. They put it there. It melts your bones. They need you. All this love within you is theirs, so why can’t you move?
“Y/N, angel, stay with me.”
You want it more than anything. You want to stay. You want to live. You can’t leave them behind. Any of them. Steve and Dustin and Jonathan and Robin and Nancy and Max and–
Pain erupts in your ankle as your body lands harshly on the ground. It shocks your system, causing your eyes to fly open. 
Steve is cradling you in his arms. He holds onto you desperately and he’s crying. Sharp inhales expand your lungs as sobs choke your breath. Your skin slides against Steve’s and he’s warm and rough and littered with scars and you aren’t sure if any of this is real.
But Steve is holding you. If this is some sick, twisted vision, then at least you’ll die in his arms. Your death will have been worth something if Steve’s face is the last thing you see. Yet when you look into his eyes, the fear and desperation within them is real. The tears are real. The agony and love is real. 
He’s real.
“Y/N! Angel, oh my God.” Steve’s hands grip your face. He’s ashen and music still plays. His pleas are muffled by it, you can barely make out what he’s saying. He risks looking away from you for a second. “Dustin! She-she’s awake!”
Within seconds your brother falls to his knees and presses his face to your stomach. He’s crying. The hot tears burn your bloodied skin but your weak hands still find him anyways. You hold Dustin tightly, selfishly. When you try to bury your face in Steve’s shoulder, something solid knocks against your head.
“Keep your headphones on.” Steve blocks your hand from taking them off. He isn’t letting you take them off ever again.
Headphones. The music playing, the memories that guided you home. Steve had saved you with your walkman. The realization causes you to jerk in his arms. You’re alive. This is real. Vecna almost killed you. You escaped.
Then where is Nancy?
“Nancy–” You try to get up, but Steve and Dustin hold you down. Panic swells in your chest. Nancy was with you. Vecna brought the two of you into his world, yet only one of you made it out. “Where is she? Is she–?”
Steve’s eyes betray him, revealing to you where Nancy is. She stands across from you, catatonic, and suddenly all the fear is back again. Tearing out of Dustin’s and Steve’s grasps, you run towards her. 
“Nancy!” You shake her viciously. She has to wake up. It can’t just be you who gets to live. You won’t let him win. Not like this. Above you, you see Max and Lucas running around. Eddie’s trailer is a wreck. They’re searching for something. “What are they looking for?”
Dustin tugs Nancy’s arm. “Music for her. It’s our only option.”
“Music.” you mumble, the song from your childhood still playing through your headphones. Nancy needs music. It’s the only way to get through to someone under Vecna’s curse. It’s what saved you. 
A song from your childhood brought you back to the ones you love. With Nancy’s life on the line, the song has to bring her back to you, too.
Ripping your headphones off, you shove them onto Nancy’s head. Steve and Dustin scream at you to put them back on. Your body had been floating not even a minute ago, but you don’t care. Ignoring their protests, your fingers fumble trying to find any possible song on the mixtape that can save her. 
“Please,” fresh tears fall onto the walkman. You can’t lose Nancy. Your relationship may be strained and complicated and tainted by a history neither one of you created yourselves, but she’s your dearest admiration. The world would be dim without her spark. You’ve lost so many people in your life. Pressing your forehead to Nancy’s, you breathe out, “Not you. I can’t lose you, too.”
A strangled gasp escapes Nancy’s mouth. The sound startles you, barely giving you or Steve enough warning to catch her as she falls. 
“You’re okay,” you brush her hair out of her face. Nancy’s chest rises and falls quickly. She’s hyperventilating, in a deep state of panic, and you hold her face delicately. She’s like a frightened deer, you’re afraid you’ll speak too loud and scare her away. “You’re okay, it’s okay.”
Steve is careful not to move her in his arms. “Breathe, Nancy. We’re right here.”
The words are meant to be calming. Your hands on Nancy’s face are meant to make her feel safe, loved. But she stares up at you and Steve with tears in her eyes and despair etched into her skin. 
Nancy begins to cry even harder and you don’t know what to do. “I need you to breathe–”
“The-the music.” She tries to sit up, but Steve won’t let her. Arms weak, she struggles against him. She looks at you frantically, trying to tear the headphones off of her. “You-you need them. He almost-he almost got you. The things he showed me, they were–”
Nancy sobs again, barely able to look at you out of guilt.
She remembers what she saw in your vision. 
The knowledge of this is ice cold against your skin, but there’s something else in Nancy’s reaction that unnerves you. This isn’t just about her now knowing your insecurities regarding her. This is something deeper. Bigger than any estranged relationship.
Vecna made her see something else.
Swallowing deeply, you level your eyes to hers. “Tell me everything, Nancy.”
And she does.
– 
Max’s trailer is all you have left. The cops swarmed Nancy’s house the second Patrick’s body was found. Your home is barricaded off from the public. They’re looking for Dustin, for you, and you don’t want to imagine how distraught your mother must be right now.
For lack of better words, it’s fucking depressing sitting in Max’s trailer surrounded by everyone. Exhaustion ghosts their faces. 
Lucas can’t seem to look away from you, the exhaustion of fear dulling his skin. Max taps her fingers anxiously. She hasn’t left your side since you’ve returned. Eddie nods at you, solemn. Erica, who arrived after the cops interrogated her, gives you a pitying look. 
Robin and Dustin hover you as if afraid you’ll disappear. Steve sits on the couch and presses his legs against your back as you sit on the floor; he needs to feel the heat of your body at all times. A reminder to him that you’re still alive. 
Nancy stands across from everyone. She insisted on doing this herself, that you didn’t need to be standing with her. While she’s always been stubborn and brave, you know she only does this because of the guilt. 
“He showed me things that haven’t happened yet,” Nancy rasps. Her eyes remain on the floor. She can’t look at anyone while she describes all the wreckage she saw. Downtown Hawkins on fire. Dead soldiers littering the streets.  
“And this giant creature, with a gaping mouth. It wasn’t-it wasn’t alone.” Nancy bites the inside of her cheek. She can’t afford to be afraid now. “There were so many monsters. An army. And they… they were coming into Hawkins. Into our neighborhoods. Our homes.”
Your nails dig into your palms. The sting quells the fear that rises within you. The more Nancy describes, more fury replaces your nausea. Hawkins is your home. There are so many good people within this town. Your family. The Wheelers. The Byers and the Sinclairs and the Mayfields and everyone else. 
So many innocent lives. All reduced to rubble and death by a rotting corpse from the Upside Down. 
Yet you still can’t get a hold of El. The only person who truly has any idea of how to stop Vecna is gone. She’s across the country with a landline that apparently doesn’t fucking work. It’s bullshit. It’s all complete and utter bullshit. 
“He showed me my mom. And Holly. Mike… And they were all–” When Nancy breaks, your fury melts into sympathy. You’re walking over to her in seconds, and Nancy throws herself into your arms as she cries. 
“He won’t hurt them.” You promise her, though it’s an empty promise that you both recognize. Neither one of you has any idea of how to stop Vecna. But Nancy clings to the comfort and allows herself to be weak. 
Lost in your worry for the girl, you miss Dustin speaking to you. He clears his throat awkwardly, raises his voice. You turn your attention to him, nodding to indicate you’re listening. 
“Did you see the same thing as Nancy?” Dustin asks you, shifting uncomfortably. The reminder of your body rising into the air only hours ago burns. “Did you… did you share the same vision?”
You and Nancy stiffen at the same time. She pulls away from you as if you’ve burned her. The shame of what she saw in your vision… Too much was revealed to her in an unfair way.
No one can ever know what you saw. It’s too painful, too embarrassing, but you know that the information could be important. Clearing your throat, you answer with what you can. “No, he didn’t show me Hawkins, just my…”
Your voice trails off. Everyone looks at you expectantly, waiting for more. Nancy described her visions in such detail, yet all you can give them are a few words. 
“Just my insecurities.” You clear your throat again. “He was trying to scare me. Similar to what he showed Max. I only got out of it because Steve saved me with the music.” He smiles at you, though it’s pained. Trying to ease the heaviness in the room, you shrug halfheartedly. “The Beatles. Saving lives since 1986.”
It works, albeit with minimal reactions. 
“The Beatles, huh?” Eddie gives you a weak smile. “That’s really what you consider music?”
“I almost died. Cut me some slack.”
Eddie opens his mouth to say more, but Steve shoves a hand in his face and shuts him up. He’s anxious. He hates how much the nine of you still don’t know. He doesn’t want to believe that Nancy’s vision had been real. “Maybe that’s all Vecna is doing. Trying to scare us. It’s not real.”
“Not yet.” Nancy lets out a defeated laugh. She isn’t convinced. Neither are you. That’s when she reveals the gates. How there were four of them spread across Hawkins. “This wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”
The hair on your arms stands up. He’s targeting your home. The fury is back; you hate Vecna. You hate him with everything within you.
Yet, in sickening irony, from the little you know about Vecna, you do know that nothing he does is accidental. He wouldn’t show Nancy four gates without it meaning something. A deep, awful churning sensation constricts in your esophagus. “Is he… trying to combine our worlds?”
“Four chimes.” Max finally speaks up. “Vecna’s clock.”
Everyone turns. Max only looks at you. “It always chimes four times. You heard them, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” your mouth is dry. The chimes were the first thing you heard. It was how you knew Vecna had gotten you. “I heard them.”
“I heard them, too.” Nancy whispers. 
The room almost seems to hold its breath as everyone comes to the realization at the same time; you’re too afraid to breathe life into the words. Vecna has been telling you his plan this entire time. 
“Four kills.” Lucas slowly looks around the room. “Four gates… End of the world.”
His voice trails off and Dustin’s stomach drops. He studies everyone’s faces. No one seems to realize yet what he has. Dustin looks at you and for the first time in his life resents his intelligence; he wishes he could be naive. 
“If that’s true…” Dustin can’t say it. He can’t bring himself to say it.
“Then he’s only one kill away.” You finish for your brother, instinctively looking at Max. While everyone reacts to what you’ve said, cursing and filling with dread, you and Max stare at one another. You’re both thinking the same thing. 
Vecna is one kill away, and you’re both marked. 
Max’s jaw clenches. She can practically read your mind, knowing that you hope the death will be yours. That you’ll do anything to be the final kill if it means saving her life. All you’ve done this entire week is ensure Max’s safety. You’ve put her life above yours again and again. 
When Vecna almost killed her in the cemetery, Max heard you beg him to take you instead. It infuriated her.
There were you, ready to give up your life for hers without even considering how your death would affect everyone else. Max’s death would go unnoticed. She knows this and she’s accepted it.
But your death would fundamentally alter the earth’s makeup. You are the warmth that her and everyone else needs to survive. If you died because of Max, she knows everyone would blame her. It would be one more death that she caused. Your ghost would join Billy’s. 
Max shakes her head at you. A small, subtle and curt shake. One meant for only you to see. You breathe in sharply. Her stony gaze sears into your skin. The message is clear: Max won’t let you die, either. 
“Try Byers again.” Steve’s urgent voice prevents you from trying to argue with Max. He doesn’t see the interaction. He’s too lost in his own mind, mentally sifting through every possible solution he can come up with. Someone has to know something. “Try calling him again, Y/N.”
Steve is anxious and the crease between his brow deepens when he looks at you. He can’t let you die and you don’t have the heart to remind him that you’ve tried calling the Byers home repeatedly this week, just to be met with a busy signal. 
Instead you sigh and walk over to the phone. Dialing the long memorized number, the line rings. And rings. And rings again. Until the beep of the busy tone alerts you that the line is full. “Damn it!”
You slam your fist against the wall, frustrated tears threatening to spill over. Dustin bites his lip at your reaction. “Guessing he didn’t respond.”
“Maybe she typed it in wrong…?” The death glare you send Steve quickly has him backtracking. “I-I mean it’s possible!”
“The Byers are like Y/N’s second family, dingus.” Robin flicks your boyfriend’s head for you, which you appreciate her for.
You try dialing the number again, but the same thing happens. It rings a few times before the busy signal drones on. Frustrated and worried, you slam the phone down. “No answer. Again. It’s been like this all fucking week.”
“Didn’t you say Joyce has that new telemarketer job? She’s always on the phone. Mike never stops whining about it.” Dustin tries to reason.
Max looks at him, skeptical. “A busy signal for three days?” 
“I’ve never gone this long without hearing from them. They always answer…” fear pricks your skin. “Someone always calls me back. El, Will, Jonathan… something’s wrong.”
“She’s right. It can’t just be coincidence.” Nancy’s uncertainty mirrors your own. The two of you are the closest to the Byers. Their silence is unnerving. 
“What are the odds that something is happening in Lenora?” 
Nancy frowns at you. “Pretty high. And whatever is happening there, it has to be connected to all of this.”
“But how?” 
Everything that has ever happened in Hawkins has remained in Hawkins. While you don’t understand how or why, the Upside Down is tied to this shitty town. It doesn’t make any sense for it to spill over into California, hundreds of miles away.
“I don’t know.” Nancy looks out Max’s window, her face hardening. “But at least Vecna can’t hurt them.”
You laugh bitterly. “I never thought I’d be so happy that they’re in California.”
Every day you miss the Byers like an open wound. You miss Jonathan and his slanted smile. Will and his tenderness. El and her sweet laugh. Joyce and her warm embrace. Their absence is palpable in your life, but for once you’re relieved that they’re gone.
They’re as far away from danger as they can possibly be. Vecna, as far as you know, can’t reach them from Hawkins. Though you may not know why they’ve gone radio silent, at the very least you know they’re alive. 
“I’m not just talking about how far away they are.” Nancy turns to you. Color has returned to her face. Her eyes are bright again and she’s alive with an idea. “Vecna can’t hurt them if he’s dead.”
Nancy Wheeler has always been protective of the ones she loves. You both are; it’s what has tied the two of you together. The only difference is that Nancy sees red where you see cautionary yellow. 
“We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”
You almost pass out from how quickly you stand. “Are you insane?”
Steve grabs your waist, steadying you, while Eddie rocks back and forth on the couch mumbling to himself. Robin lets out a scared squeak and you can practically see every possible way you can die in the Upside Down before your very eyes. 
“We’re going to die,” you laugh hysterically, finally reaching your breaking point. “Nancy, we are going to die if we go back there.”
“Not if we’re prepared! This time we’ll get weapons and-and protection. We’ll go through the gate, find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”
“Oh, because it’ll be that easy, right? Look,” you break from Steve and grab Nancy’s arm, forcing her to look at you. “I’ve always gone along with your plans. But this? This is too far.”
Steve joins you, looking equally as overwhelmed and alarmed. “Y/N’s right. And, might I add, the only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us!”
Nancy falters for a moment. She knows Steve is right. Everyone knows that it wasn’t your music that brought her back. Vecna only allowed her to survive because he could. 
“He let you live because somehow it’s all a part of his plan.” You urge, frustrated that Nancy can’t see what you see. “What if this is what he wants? He knows us, he’s been watching us. He knows you, Nancy. You could be falling right into his trap.”
“And it’s a fucking good trap!” Robin jumps to her feet, already starting to pace as she mumbles to herself. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry? One? I’m sorry, what are we calling him now?”
Everyone gives her a different response, and you chime in with your own suggestion: “Bitch.”
“I like bitch, but it isn’t really PG, is it?” Robin cracks a smile before remembering where she is. She rambles on about how all you’ve managed to learn about Vecna is that he’s a sick, twisted version of El with deadly powers. “He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”
“Then why fight fair?” Dustin finally speaks up. He’s thought of something, too. “You’re right. He’s like Eleven, but that gives us an upper hand.”
Frustratingly, your brother has a point. Ducking your head, you voice what he’s thinking. “Which means we know her strengths and weaknesses.”
“Exactly.”
“Weaknesses?” Erica looks at you and Dustin as if you’re insane. 
Dustin explains how El’s powers work. When he mentions the trance she always seems to fall under when she remote-travels, Lucas snaps his fingers. “That would explain what Vecna was doing in that attic.”
“And when he attacks his next victim–”
“His body will be defenseless…” you breathe out, hope igniting in your chest despite your attempts to snuff it out. 
Steve scoffs at you. “Defenseless? What about the army of bats?” He motions towards his bruised neck before pointing down at your thigh. “I mean, I love you, but I think you’re missing most of your thigh.”
“Only a quarter is gone.”
“Y/N.”
“Okay, maybe a little more.”
Dustin waves his hands at you and Steve. “Alright, we get it. The bats were a bitch, but all we need to do is find a way to distract them.”
“And, uh.” Eddie begins to rise from the couch. “How do we do that, exactly?”
“No idea.”
Eddie sits back down. You smile at him, tight lipped. He should’ve expected an answer like that, honestly. 
Dustin doubles down on his plan. “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”
But there are components to his plan that the group still needs to figure out. “We’d need someone to lure him, get him into the trance in the first place.”
Robin nods eagerly at you. “My thoughts exactly, and we don’t even know who he’s going to attack next–”
“Yeah, we do.” 
Your heart stops. 
Everyone turns to Max. She only meets your gaze. Her jaw is set, the same hardened look in her eyes from when she shook her head at you returns.
Knowing where this is going, you stand in front of Max and block her from the others. “No.” 
“I can still feel him–”
“No.” You can’t believe Max is even entertaining the idea of you letting her be the bait. As if you’d ever put her in that kind of danger. Like you wouldn’t die a million times if it meant she got to live once. “You know I won’t let you.”
Max glares back at you. “I’m still marked.”
“So am I.” A bitter laugh. “We’re both cursed. You and me. We’re one in the same, but I’m not letting you be the bait.”
“What, so I’m just expected to let you sacrifice yourself?” Max laughs incredulously. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. Max Mayfield, the one who killed Hawkins’ sweetheart, responsible for yet another death!”
You try to reach out to her, but Max stumbles back. “No one is dying, alright? And you wouldn’t be responsible for my death. I’m choosing to do this. You’re-you’re just a kid, Max. It’s my job to protect you–”
“I never asked you to protect me!” Max screams, startling you into silence. The volume of her voice seems to surprise her as well because she takes a step back, breathing heavily. “I never… I never asked for any of this.”
Silence swallows the room. Max looks at you, her eyes pleading. Her words swim in your head. What did she mean by being responsible for another death? That she would be blamed for yours? 
“You didn’t ask me to protect you,” your voice shakes slightly. Holding her gaze, you allow your tears to fall. “But I never asked to lose you, either.”
Max breathes in sharply. Your words cut through her guard, breaking down the last of her walls. She’s silent again. 
“Neither one of you are going.” Steve is next to you now, hand falling against your back. He looks between you and Max, voice gentle, but firm.
“What if we… leveled the playing field?” Dustin hesitantly suggests. Lucas and Steve frown at him, shocked he’s even considering any of this seeing how protective he is of you. Dustin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “Look, they’ve both had visions. They’re both next. And whether we like it or not, Vecna has only doubled his chances of winning.”
Eddie stares at him in disbelief. “What, so we just have them both be the bait? Toss ‘em both to Vecna and see which one he bites?” 
“I’d word it better, but…” Dustin bites his lip, staring at you. “Yeah.”
Behind you, Steve tries to shove past the others to get to you. Only Lucas stops him, shaking his head at the older teen. Now isn’t the time, Lucas knows that Steve will say something he'll regret. 
Steve wants to scream. He doesn’t at all like what he’s hearing, but when he looks at you and notices the interest in your eyes, he feels his heart drop. You’re really considering this. You’re really willing to put yourself in danger to save Hawkins.
Because it’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done. You’re too good for this world. Steve can’t let you get hurt, not like this. 
Tentatively you look at Max. “If one of us is in the Upside Down…”
“And the other in the attic in Hawkins.” Max continues for you, relieved you seem to understand. “He’s guaranteed to find one of us. And whoever he chooses, we just… we just need to keep him busy long enough so that the others can get into the attic.”
A game of luck disguised as a compromise. Even though luck has never been on your side, Max won’t back down from this, and neither will you. 
However this story ends, you hope that it’s your body that is buried. Max, thinking the same thing, smiles pitifully at you. Reaching a stalemate, all you can do now is smile back at her.
“Do me a favor,” you turn to the rest of the group. “When you stab him, blow him up with whatever explosives Dustin inevitably comes up with, however you end up killing this piece of shit… Try not to miss.”
“For both of us.” Max says. 
Steve’s hand presses harshly against your back. He’s biting his tongue. You can feel all the unsaid resentment and protests that die in his throat. Exhaustion darkens his eyes and you want, more than anything, to promise him that everything will be okay.
But you can’t. 
Not this time. 
– 
Eddie slams down a massive flier onto the table. With big, bold letters and an abundance of American flags in the background, the flier is your worst nightmare.
“‘The War Zone?’” You look at Eddie uncertainly. “Not a very welcoming store name.”
“That’s because it’s not a very welcoming store, princess.” He winks at you. “But I’ve been there before, and it’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh…”
“War?”
“I was gonna say killing things, but war works, too.”
Robin pokes your side, gently moving you aside so that she can look over Eddie’s shoulder. “Think fake Rambo has enough guns there?”
“Well there’s a grenade sale going on, so.” You shrug at her. “I’m willing to bet they’ve got enough guns. And an aversion to laws.”
Robin still looks unsure, but Eddie quickly explains that the War Zone is far enough away from Hawkins that no one will recognize any of you there. With a wanted murderer and multiple accomplices in your group, anonymity is your only option. 
“But if we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone.” Erica points out, which you snort at.
“She’s not wrong.”
Nancy sighs. “Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons. I think it’s worth the risk.”
Lucas agrees, but Dustin reminds everyone that you currently have no way to get there. Steve’s car is gone and all you have are bikes and prayers. 
Eddie smiles wickedly at your brother. “Who said anything about bikes?”
“What, you got some car we don’t know about?” Steve asks him.
“It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but… it’ll do.”
You step in between Steve and Eddie. “What do you mean it’s not exactly yours?”
He ignores your question and looks at Max. “Hey, Red, you got a ski mask, or a bandanna, something like that?”
“Why the fuck do you need a ski mask–” You hit at Eddie’s chest, worry growing more and more by the second. 
Eddie catches your hand that swings down at him, a devious smile. “Have you ever stolen a RV, Y/N?”
“No. No fucking way.” You’ve never hated an idea more. “That’s someone’s home. And-and it’s a crime. A huge one at that, like insanely huge and very, very illegal–”
Dustin pats your back, laughing to himself. “C’mon. Lighten up a bit. Do it for science, for the world!”
“What does science have to do with any of this? We’re talking about literally robbing someone’s entire livelihood to go kill some wrinkly old guy and there’s no way in hell that I am ever agreeing to stealing a RV–”
You end up stealing a fucking RV. 
Eddie is wearing a ridiculous ski mask that Max once wore for Halloween as he guides you through the trailer park. Weaving in and out of mobile homes, Eddie finds his target and throws himself through the window. 
Steve jumps in next, leaning out the side so that he can then help you climb through. The window is just tall enough to be painful to squeeze into, and you let out several choice words as Steve pulls you up. 
“You alright?” He asks you once you’re in.
“I hate everything about this.”
“Henderson, you got anything sharp?” Eddie whispers from the driver’s seat. He’s holding a bunch of wires that all look the same to you.
Digging into your pocket, you toss him your knives. “If anyone asks, you stole them from me.”
Eddie smirks at you, flicking the knives open and cutting random wires. He works quickly, with practiced ease, and Steve notices, too. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”
Eddie’s fingers tie wires together and he laughs sarcastically. He explains that his father was the one who taught him, bitter and relentless. “I swore to myself I’d never wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh. I’m really livin’ up to the Munson name.”
“Aren’t fathers lovely?” You force a laugh, but you can still feel the heavy weight of your father’s hands around you. The vision, how real he had seemed. Eddie gives you an odd, slightly concerned look, before Robin suddenly appears. 
“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving this thing.”
You bite your lip. “Honestly, I also don’t like the idea.”
“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker. Harrington’s got her.” Eddie leans in close to Steve, almost flirting with him. “Don’t ya, big boy?” 
Steve’s off-put expression, the pure joy in Eddie’s eyes and Robin’s utter confusion, it all makes you laugh hysterically. This entire situation is so fucking bizarre. Here you are, hotwiring a RV with Eddie goddamn Munson while he flirts with your boyfriend. 
The engine sparks to life, cutting your laughter short, and within seconds the married couple who owns the RV is pounding on the windows. Cover blown, Steve curses and shoves Eddie out of the way so that he can throw you against the passenger seat. 
“Get ready!” Steve shouts after making sure you’re secured before jumping into the driver’s seat.
Heart pounding, you quickly shout over your shoulder to the kids. “Everyone, hang on!”
Dustin scrambles onto the back window and holds on for dear life. “Drive, Steve!”
Throwing his foot on the gas, the RV pulls out of the trailer park with impressive speed. For being more home than mobile, you have to tightly clutch the sides of your seat in fear of flying forward. 
“Shit, they look pissed.” Dustin watches the couple run after the RV, but it’s a lost cause.
“I mean, it’s not every day you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop.” Robin says, body jolting due to the rough terrain. 
Steve screams, telling everyone to hold on, before he barrels through a pile of garbage. The RV takes a rough turn, tilting slightly, before finally finding the road. The tires squeal, but Steve manages to steady the vehicle and grace you with smoother driving. 
“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.”
“Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives.
“Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”
– 
For the first few miles, all you could focus on was the squeezing knot of guilt in your chest as the adrenaline crashed. Every car you passed set you on edge. Every passing second you were terrified you’d encounter cops and get pulled over, sent to jail.
However, after about fifteen miles, you finally settle into the drive. Despite all you’ve been through, it’s still a beautiful time of year. The spring trees are green and soft music plays on the radio. Everyone is quiet, looking out the windows or talking amongst themselves.
Steve looks at ease driving the RV, the dewy sun framing his beautiful face. This is the calmest you’ve seen him all week. Feet propped up on the dashboard, you poke his arm. “You look real comfortable driving this thing.”
He smiles softly, shrugging. “It’s not half bad, considering this is a house.”
You giggle, smiling along with him. A comfortable silence follows and the music floats around you. The guitar strings are sweet, melancholy, and they make you miss your father. “My dad used to play this song on his guitar.”
“He did?” Steve seems surprised you’ve brought your father up, and you don’t blame him. It isn’t often that you talk about him.
“Yeah,” you’re not sure why you’re telling Steve this. Not now, at least. Driving a stolen RV to a war store for supplies. “He’d play it around bonfires. Everyone loved it. It was… it was nice.”
“Did he… play any other songs?” Steve doesn’t want to push you. He’s honestly just grateful you’ve shared even this small snippet of your life with him, but Steve will always want to know more about you. 
You pause for a moment. You’re not used to talking about this with anyone else. Only Dustin and Jonathan. “The Beatles. He really loved the Beatles.”
“Sounds like your dad had good taste in music, then.” 
“Yeah,” smiling to yourself, you allow this one good memory of your father to linger. “He really did.”
After a beat of silence, Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t want this softness to end. “Thank you for telling me, angel.”
You shrug, cheeks burning. You’re uncomfortable with the sincerity. You know Steve is being genuine, but the foreignness of revealing yourself is still unsettling.
Not wanting to lose this vulnerability yet, Steve risks looking at you. “Dustin told me about him, you know. Your dad, I mean. He told me what he did. And I-I’m really sorry, Y/N. I am. Your family didn’t deserve that.”
You’re quiet. 
“I understand, now.” Steve doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Not again, not like he always seems to do. “I-I had this dream, you know, that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking, like, a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five or six kids.”
Even though you laugh a bit, his confession stings. You know exactly why Steve has always envisioned a big family for himself. His home was never really a home. His family was never really a family. 
You’ve only ever met Richard Harrington once, and you will always remember how cold his eyes were. 
“And what would you do with these six kids of yours?” You entertain Steve’s dream because you love him. Because you know that no one else will.
Steve blushes slightly, although relieved that you’re at least responding to him again. “I figured every summer, all of us Harringtons would pack into something like this and just see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon… maybe even the Shenandoah valley in Virginia.” 
It’s your turn to blush. Steve wants to take his kids to where you grew up. “That sounds really nice, honey.”
Steve looks at you hopefully, adoration in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you know your eyes reveal your fondness for him, too. “Although six kids might be too much. I think three is all I’d agree to.”
Steve catches your slip before you do. He watches, bashful and giddy, as you realize what you’ve said. How you unconsciously told him your kids would be his kids. While you blush furiously at the implications, Steve’s heart flutters. 
So you do see a future with him. A family. 
Seeing Steve’s bashful smile, all your embarrassment fades away. He loves you, pure and unabashedly. All he wants is his future to have you, and you finally understand that you have a safe place to land. Steve will always be there to catch you. 
“You’ll be a good dad, honey.” He isn’t like your father. Steve doesn’t know how to abandon someone. It isn’t in his blood.
Steve ducks his head, smiling even wider. He thanks you softly, eyes flicking between you and the road. The strings that were twisted between you straighten. The knots come undone. Smiling at him again, you feel someone’s eyes on you.
When you turn around, you find Nancy quickly looking away. She pretends that she hadn’t been watching you and Steve, though she does a terrible job at it. Sighing, you kiss Steve’s forehead.
“I’ll be back.”
He tries to ask you where you’re going, but you’re out of your seat before he can finish his question. 
You sit next to Nancy, shoulder bumping against hers as you do so. She doesn’t look up at you, too busy pretending to be engrossed in Eddie’s War Zone flier. Her eyebrows are knit together and you know she’s anxious about it all.
Gently nudging her, you prompt Nancy to look at you. When she reluctantly does, you ask the question that’s been burning your tongue all morning. “How much of my vision did you see?”
“I-I’m so sorry.” Nancy breaks immediately. Unable to look at you, she turns her head and closes her eyes. “He… he showed me Steve. He made me listen to your cries as he and I–” Her voice cracks, nausea builds. “I heard what he told you.”
Your face burn in embarrassment. While you appreciate her honesty, you hate that Nancy saw you in your most vulnerable state. You hate that she had to see that your deepest, innermost insecurity is her. 
“It was real, wasn’t it?” Nancy hesitantly asks. Her lips are chapped and her voice is rough from disuse and uncertainty. “You really do think that Steve will never forget me.”
She knows she shouldn’t be asking you any of this. She knows that too much was shown to her, more than you’ve ever shown to anyone. Nancy doesn’t know what she would do if she were you. To have your deepest fears shown to someone without consent. Without any warning. 
You roll Nancy’s question around in your head. You aren’t surprised that she’s asked it; she’s never shied away from the questions that keep everyone else up at night. Absentmindedly your eyes roam Steve’s body. His shoulders are relaxed as he drives. He knows you’ll return to him when you’re done. 
It is a certainty for him, one only love can provide.
“I know he loves me.” You say slowly, carefully. Looking up at Steve again, your eyes soften slightly. “But I think sometimes I get scared of the hold you have over him.”
Nancy starts to laugh, loud and without any humor. Your eyes widen at her, hurt blooming within your chest. “What’s so funny, Wheeler?”
“Nothing!” She grabs your hand, laughter dying quickly. “God, I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just-it’s ironic, isn’t it? I mean, I have the same fear with you and Jonathan. The hold you seem to have over him.”
Your thumb strokes the back of her hand. In a way, you suppose it all really is ironic. 
Risking it all, your head drops down to Nancy’s shoulder. She allows you to rest it there as you both stare out the window in front of you. “We were their first loves.” Watching the trees pass by, it’s all so very bittersweet. “Do you ever think about that?”
You were Jonathan’s first love. Nancy was Steve’s. 
Nancy hums softly, recognizing the irony as well. The two of you have always felt lesser than the other, yet the boys you love are so blindly devoted to you. Nancy remembers last summer and her cruel words of insecurity. 
“I’m sorry we wasted so much time.” Nancy whispers, and you don’t need to ask her what she means. You know she’s referring to the July phone call. 
“Lost time can always be made up.”
Nancy squeezes your hand. The two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, mending the fragments that were shattered a while ago. The mending isn’t perfect. Some pieces have been lost forever, but the image it creates is the same; it’s still love.
“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but I’ve never seen Steve so in love.” 
You pick your head up and smile at her, appreciative of the sentiment. “Jonathan is the same, you know. He loves you so much, Nancy. Even if he struggles to show it.”
Nancy doesn’t believe you. You can see it in the way her eyes suddenly darken. The wrinkle in her forehead. She doesn’t believe that Jonathan loves her anymore, and the thought makes you ache. 
“I know he’s been distant lately. He’s been distant with me, too.” The admission is difficult only because you don’t want Nancy to think you’re being cruel. She deserves to know everything. “He’s lonely in California. He misses you more than I think he’s even able to process.”
Slowly, Nancy nods at you to continue; you haven’t scared her away yet. “Jonathan will never admit when he’s hurting, it’s infuriating and admirable all at the same time. But he… he gets lost, sometimes. Jonathan loves you so much that he’s afraid he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand that sometimes love is selfish.” 
Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?
But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.
Jonathan hadn’t been confessing his feelings for you. It’s only now that you realize this. He’d just been scared, weak. Weak from hiding his fears, his uncertainty for his future and the weight of his family on his shoulders. 
All his life Jonathan has only ever known instability. He was never able to adjust to Nancy’s foundations. It was only when he was finally starting to trust the stability that their fighting began, and Jonathan hid. It was instinctive.
“Jonathan, he called me the other night.” You say, causing Nancy to stiffen slightly. You squeeze her hand again, silently urging her to listen before she says anything else. “It was before the world was ending, obviously, and he… he asked me if I ever thought we made a mistake. Me and him.”
“A mistake?” Nancy shakes her head. 
“Steve and I had a fight earlier that day, and you and Jonathan were having problems, so he just… he was afraid that if we made a mistake choosing you and Steve, then it would mean we made things harder for you, too.” 
The wrinkle in Nancy’s forehead lessens, but only by a fragment. She’s listening, she’s trying to follow along, but she’s been so hurt for so long that it’s difficult for her to distinguish fact from fiction. 
“Loving you has always been easy for him to do, so he got scared when the ease fell away.” Your eyes never leave Nancy’s. “Jonathan didn’t understand that love can be just as hard as it is soft. You can’t have one without the other.”
Nancy is quiet for several long moments. She sits with your words, allows herself to think through them. To trust where they came from and know that they’re meant to help, not hurt. Eventually, Nancy exhales after months of holding her breath. 
“‘Love can be just as hard as it is soft’.” Nancy laughs, short but genuine. “I like that.”
A laugh echoes from your own chest. “Thanks, Wheeler. Came up with it myself.”
“It’s me who should be thanking you.” She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “Thank you. For everything.”
You squeeze her hand one last time. Recognizing her thanks as a polite dismissal, wanting to be alone right now, you kiss the back of her hand before rejoining Steve up front. 
Steve catches your hand before you can sit in the passenger seat. He kisses it, the same as you did with Nancy’s. “What did you two talk about?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you catch Nancy’s eye in the rearview mirror. She winks, secretive and teasing, and you wink back at her. Sitting down, you prop your feet back up on the dashboard. 
“We were just catching up.”
– 
By the time Steve pulls into War Zone’s parking lot, it’s packed with cars. There are way more people than expected, concerned families running around with guns they don’t know how to use.
“I guess a grenade sale draws in a big crowd.” You whistle low, eyes following a dad and daughter bickering over a baseball bat. 
Steve parks the RV and turns around in his seat. “Alright, dipshits. What’s the plan?” Robin rolls her eyes. “Don’t call us dipshits, dipshit.” 
“Obviously Eddie stays in the RV. He’s Indiana’s most wanted at this point.” Eddie tips an imaginary hat at you. “Dustin and Lucas, you guys should stay, too.”
Your brother makes a disgruntled sound. “What do you mean I’m staying?”
“You’re both in Hellfire and a lot of people with guns want the club gone. I’m not letting either of you step foot in there.”
Lucas sags in his seat, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right. Dustin, however, continues to argue. “Did you forget that I almost watched you die ten hours ago? I’m not leaving you.”
Annoyance softening, you tug at Dustin’s hat playfully. “Don’t worry about me. We grew up with hicks, I know how to fend them off.”
“Plus we’ll be glued to her side, little Henderson.” Robin points at Steve, who nods quickly. “We got her.”
It takes some more arguing and a bribe from Eddie before Dustin eventually calms down. You leave him with Lucas, trusting they’ll be fine on their own. Steve holds his hand out and helps you walk down the RV’s steps and into the store.
Inside, a swarm of people are running around. The entire point of driving all the way to the War Zone was to avoid Hawkins, and yet here everyone is: stocking up on pistols and mace.
“Let’s… be fast.” Nancy eyes everyone wearily, and none of you hesitate to agree.
Splitting up, you, Steve, and Robin head towards the gasoline section. You’d suggested it during the drive here. Fire has always been the most reliable weapon against the Upside Down. 
Eyes scanning the gasoline aisle, you make a mental list of what else you may need. “Okay, I think we should get at least six of these–”
Steve must see something in another aisle, because he whips around and screams behind his shoulder, “Be right back!” 
Robin frowns. “He has the attention span of a dog.”
“Don’t say that,” you toss another can of gasoline into your cart. “It’s offensive to dogs.”
Giggling, Robin helps you. Loading the cart to the brim, you almost miss Steve’s sudden return. “What do you think, angel?”
Looking up, you almost drop the can you’re holding. In the midst of weapons and ammo within the store, Steve has somehow managed to find a nice, brown army jacket. The material is thick, covered in patches, and the brown looks criminally good on your boyfriend. While you’ll miss his arms being on constant display, you almost don’t want him to ever take the jacket off again.
Seeing your speechless reaction, Steve smirks at you. “I take it you approve?”
“Mhm,” your mouth is dry. 
“Good, because I also found this.” Steve reveals another brown army jacket behind him, only this one is smaller. More your size. Not even waiting for your approval, Steve drapes the material over your shoulders. “And now we match.”
“You’re disgusting,” you grumble, though you both know your heart isn’t in it. The apples of your cheeks burn a cherry red. Taking Robin’s flannel off, you return it to her. “A part of me thinks Steve wants me to wear the army jacket because he doesn’t like seeing me in your clothes.”
Steve shrugs. “Half true.”
“Has anyone ever told you how gross you two are?” Robin gags. “I mean, really, it’s sickening how annoying you…”
Her voice trails off. Mid insult. Something she has never done before in the two years you’ve known her. Confused, you look up and notice her lovestruck expression as she stares at something. Following her line of sight, you almost laugh when you find the familiar red curls standing across from you.
“What are you gonna do? Stand and gawk?” Steve teases Robin, amused by the series of events.
You elbow his side. “Be nice. All you did was gawk at me for months.”
“Both of you, shut up.” Robin commands, voice breathy. Her eyes never leave Vickie and she takes a step forward, finally having the courage to approach her, before some guy comes up behind Vickie and scares her.
Vickie yelps, turning around to tell the boy off, but instead he takes her into his arms. The guy is tall, lanky but sure. He stares down at Vickie like she’s some prize and your stomach twists into knots. 
When their lips connect, you can almost feel Robin’s heartbreak. Her face drops and the light in her eyes is extinguished. Vickie turns, face paling when she sees Robin, and the entire ordeal is too much for her to handle. 
Robin’s shoulder knocks roughly against yours as she flees. You call after her, wanting desperately to follow. You know how cruel unrequited love can be. “Robin, wait!”
But Steve stops you, gently pulling you back. “Give her some space.”
As much as you want to argue, snatch your arm back and run after your heartbroken friend, you know that Steve is right. Robin has always preferred seclusion to public displays. She’s never wanted anyone’s pity. When she’s ready, she’ll find you and Steve and you’ll give her all the sun’s rays to melt the ice of rejection.
Steve helps you look for whatever else you’ll need. You roam the aisles, both silent and worried for your friend. At one point you end up in the knives section. When you turn your head to ask Steve his opinion on a silver hilt you find, the question dies in your throat.
Nancy is across the store, holding a rifle while Jason Carver stalks closer and closer to her.
“He’s like a goddamn plague,” you sneer to yourself. Quickly catching Steve’s attention, you motion over to the two teens. “We got a problem.”
Steve curses, also exasperated seeing Jason, but when he tries to walk towards them you stop him. Shaking your head, you block his path. “I love you, but if you go over there right now you’ll make everything worse.”
“That’s not true!”
“Steve.”
He falters. “Okay, well. What do you want me to do?”
“Go find Erica and the others and tell them we’re leaving. Clearly we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” Smoothing down your new leather jacket, you fix your hair and adjust your shoes. “As for me, I’m really hoping Jason still has that crush on me from last summer.”
Steve gawks at you, but you shove him towards the exit and beckon him to do as you say. Jason has only gotten closer to Nancy during your conversation. He leers over her, gripping the rifle with possession. 
Trying to keep your steps slow, casual, you analyze their body movements as you approach. Jason smirks at Nancy, as if he knows all her secrets. “Well, you look nervous.”
Nancy swallows. “Like I said. Scary times.”
Jason doesn’t like her answer. “Now, your brother. Is he here with you, by chance?”
Hearing him mention Mike, your heartbeat races as you practically sprint towards Nancy. Your appearance is abrupt, you’re breathless from exhilaration, and when your body slams against Jason’s, you feign sympathy. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
Body turned towards Nancy, you nod at her once, reassuring, before forcing a smile on your face and spinning back around to Jason. “Long time no see, Carver.”
“Y/N.” He doesn’t return your smile. 
Tension thick, you pretend not to notice it. “Sorry for interrupting, but I found the bat Nancy was looking for earlier and was dying to show her.” Tilting your head at her, you indicate towards the exit with your eyes. “Wanna check it out?”
She nods, understanding the hidden meaning behind your words. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Not so fast.” Jason still hasn’t let go of Nancy’s barrel. He tugs it back, forcing you and her to freeze. “I asked Wheeler here a question. Have you seen Mike?”
“No.” Nancy doesn’t flinch away. “He isn’t here.”
Jason then looks at you. There is no warmth in his gaze. “And your brother, he’s in that Hellfire club too, isn’t he? Have you seen him around?”
“I’m not my brother’s keeper.” You keep your voice cold, neutral. Jason is trying to get a reaction from you. He wants you to be scared of him. But you’ve dealt with worse men than him. Wrapping your hand around his arm, you dig your nails into his flesh. “You understand, right?”
Jason’s mouth twitches. His composure is quickly slipping and Nancy uses the slip against him, Tightening her grip on the gun, she pulls it against her chest. “Let go.”
His hand remains. They maintain eye contact, neither looking away. Your nails dig even deeper, the skin beneath them breaks. Hot blood seeps into your nailbeds and Jason finally lets go. 
He rubs the crescent indents in his skin, chuckling darkly at you. “Quite a grip you got there.”
“I tend not to let things go.” A sickly sweet smile crawls onto your face. 
Jason smiles back at you, holding your gaze for another few seconds, before finally walking away. He doesn’t say anything else. The moment he’s gone, you lace your fingers through Nancy’s and run through the store to find Steve and the others.
“That was close.” You duck behind a cart, nearly running into one of Jason’s goonies.
“Too close.” Nancy finds Robin, pointing towards her as she looks for an opening to run. “Think you’ll be able to run?”
“Not really much of a choice, is there?”
And you run. Weaving through what feels like the entirety of Hawkins, you and Nancy manage to break through the store’s exit with Steve, Robin, Max, and Erica in tow. Bursting through the RV’s door, it’s a mess of bodies flailing into seats and screams.
“We need to leave. Now!” You shout at Dustin and the others, having no other time to explain further. “Everyone find a seat and stay low.”
Dustin screeches at Steve to drive while everyone scrambles to do as you’ve said. Hands shaking as you buckle your seatbelt, Steve only has enough time to shout “get ready!” before he’s starting the engine.
The War Zone sign fades into the distance. 
– 
The further you drive, the thicker the air in the RV becomes. Unease creeps over the seats, onto your skin. Nancy sits with all the bags around her as she and Robin sort through them. Dustin watches them, knee bouncing up and down.
Nancy talks first. Slowly, piece by piece, her and Dustin come up with a plan. 
“We’ll need to split into groups.”
“But how many? And where would everyone go?”
Nancy pauses for a moment. “One group in the Upside Down and one group at the Creel house. That should be enough, right?”
You raise your hand as if you’re in school. “If I may, I’d like to remind the class about the bats. We aren’t getting anywhere if they’re eating us alive.”
“She’s got a point.” Dustin says. 
Nancy sighs, but she doesn’t have an answer. 
“What if we had another group in dimension hell?” Eddie suggests. “Ya know, distract the little fuckers while the main group goes and be heroes.” 
“I don’t know,” you shift in your seat. You’re already risking a lot having a few of you go back into the Upside Down. The thought of risking even more lives makes your skin crawl. “Ideally, the less of us in the Upside Down, the better.”
Steve nods. “I’m with Y/N on this one. We don’t all need to go down there. It’s creepy and freakishly cold.”
“It’s our only option. Whoever goes there to kill Vecna will need all the help they can get.” Max says. “If the bats get to them first, then it’s pointless.”
Lucas nods, agreeing with Max, and Dustin has to nod as well. She’s right. There needs to be a third group if there’s any hope of pulling this off. 
Nancy, seeing the growing agreement between everyone, nods. “Alright. Then it’s settled. There’ll be three groups. Me, Y/N, Steve, and Robin will go to the Upside Down and track down Vecna.”
She waits a moment, giving time for anyone to protest. When no one does, she continues. “Y/N will have her walkman, but she won’t use it unless absolutely necessary. If Vecna chooses her, Steve will watch her while Robin and I go into the attic.”
“I’ll be the best goddamn bodyguard there ever was.” Steve jokes, trying to laugh away the discomfort of knowing your life will be on the line of luck. Knowing what he’s doing, you kiss his hand softly.
“If you fuck up and get my sister killed, I know how to procure acid.” Dustin forces Steve to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. The older teen gulps.
Touched, you preen at Dustin. “That’s the nicest threat anyone has ever said for me.”
It gets him to laugh, which you’re thankful for. Nancy cracks a smile as well, but it dims when she remembers where she is. Where you all are. 
“Max, Erica, and Lucas will be at the Creel house. They’ll have her walkman as well. If Vecna chooses her, Lucas needs to be ready.”
The teen slowly nods at Nancy. He hunches his shoulders, places the weight of Max’s life upon him. You’re not entirely comfortable with leaving the kids alone at the house, but it’s the safest location. You’d rather they be in Hawkins than the Upside Down.
You’ll give Max your knives. You’ll show her how to use them and you’ll pray that she never has to. They’ll be fine.
At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. The mantra that is keeping you sane. 
“Eddie, would you be alright with distracting the bats?” Nancy turns to him, the question posed more as a silent challenge. It was his suggestion; now he has to be willing to lay his life down for it. 
Eddie pales at the question. “I-I mean I guess? Like, would I be-I don’t know, screaming at them? Or-or running around like an idiot, or–”
“I’ll go with him.” Dustin interrupts, saving Eddie from a nervous breakdown. 
Your head spins around the second you hear his voice, cold with fear. “No–”
But Dustin expected this reaction. He meets your fear with a leveled response. “Y/N, this is the only way.”
“I won’t let you go into the Upside Down!” Screaming, voice raw, panic sets in. This is all wrong. Everything is wrong. You could die tonight, Max and Lucas and Erica will be defenseless in a house that you can’t reach, and now your brother wants to go to the place that almost killed you?
It’s too much.
“And I won’t leave Eddie behind!” Dustin screams back at you. “He needs me, and if it means the bats won’t try to kill you again, then I’m doing it.”
“But–”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Y/N. We kinda need them.” Robin tries to placate you, but you’re seeing red and you can’t breathe.
Eddie manages to catch your eye. He lowers his voice, the most sincere he’s ever been. “I promise I’ll protect Dustin with my life. Alright? I won’t let the shithead die.”
Only it’s the wrong thing to say. Your ears are ringing and your chest feels like it’s about to explode. Anger and fear and despair all claw at your throat, begging to be released. 
“Do you really think I can’t protect my own brother?” You hiss at Eddie, teeth clenched and face burning. The words tumble from your mouth before you can even really stop them. You’re blinded by anger, by the overwhelming feeling that you’ll lose. 
You can’t protect everyone on your own. Not this time, not like you’ve always done. Your entire life you’ve given everything within you to protect the ones you love. Pieces of yourself have been broken, bruised, exhausted from it; but it’s all you know. 
You’ve never been good at asking for help. Never trusted anyone enough to love and care for your family with the ferocity that you do. 
But now, faced with something much bigger than yourself, your greatest fear has come true. You have to let go. You have to trust that someone else will be there for your loved ones when you can’t. There’s nothing else you can do.
And it’s fucking terrifying. 
Eddie clears his throat in response to your sudden outburst. The RV falls silent. Eyes stare at you and you turn away in shame, facing the windshield with tears in your eyes. Steve can’t keep his eyes on the road knowing you’re upset.
Eventually there’s a field and Nancy tells Steve to park. With nowhere else to go, the open field will be your basecamp. There are weapons to be made, final moments to be shared. 
No one wastes any time getting out. The RV empties quickly until it’s only you, Dustin, and Steve who remain. Your brother clears his throat awkwardly, standing before you with his arms tucked behind him. 
“Code blue?”
Strings twinge in your chest, but laughter floods anyways. “Yeah,” you wipe your eyes, already crying. “I think we’re due for one.”
You get up from the passenger seat, giving Steve a quick but reassuring glance. He understands without having to be told that you need to be alone with your brother. Giving you some privacy, he turns away while you and Dustin head towards the back. 
Sitting down, Dustin immediately falls against you. You butt heads, playfully and childishly, and you want to cherish these small moments with your brother forever. 
“Please don’t be like dad.” Dustin whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. 
Your throat closes. “Dustin…”
“You can’t leave me. Not like he did. You can’t-you can’t do that to me and mom.” There are tears in his eyes. 
The mention of your mother makes you cry as well. You miss her, you haven’t seen her in days and all you want is to have her hold you one last time. To hear her call you her sweet girl again. To etch her love for you into your skin. 
“I won’t leave you,” your fingers grip Dustin’s arms. Your body shakes, so does his. “I-I won’t. I love you, okay? More than anything in this world. I’m your sister, and I know I haven’t been a very good one recently and I know that I can’t promise that everything will be okay, but–”
“All I want from you is for you to come home.” Dustin rasps. His eyes shine and he sniffs, shaking his head fondly, albeit annoyed. “God, that’s all you have to do. Don’t be like him, don’t leave the house empty. That’s all I want from you, Y/N.”
Brushing his hair back, the promise you make doesn’t burn how you expect it to. “I’ll come home.”
“Good.” Dustin throws himself into you, arms gripping you tightly. His hair tickles your nose and his hat almost pokes your eye out, but you hold onto him anyways. 
“Yo, Henderson!” Eddie’s voice calls from outside. There’s a bang on the RV door, followed by a quiet curse for presumably injuring a hand. “Come help me with these trash lids. The nails are bitches!”
“Trash lids?” You ask Dustin.
He shrugs. “Weapon against the bats. Could be worse.”
You snort, pushing the kid away. “Go help Munson. With his luck, he’ll lose an eye wielding a hammer.” 
Dustin also laughs and allows your body to leave. He stands up, lingers in the doorway, before smiling one last time at you. Your promise to him melts into his skin. He’s chosen to believe you; you have to choose to believe yourself as well.
When he’s gone, the silence in the RV almost drowns you. There’s a dull roar in your head. Conversations echo. Nancy’s confessions and Dustin’s terror. Max’s sacrifice. How long it’s been since you’ve been alone.
Your head drops to your hands. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to salvage what little of your sanity is left. 
A body lands next to you. The smell of bergamot and spice is like a salve to your open wounds. Hands grab your body, pull you flush against a chest. Without having to look, you know Steve is the one holding you.
He lays you down onto the couch and you curl into him instinctively. You use his body to shield you away from the world, feeling like a little kid again. Your bones ache. Steve rubs your flesh as if to dispel the pain that is always there. 
“I know you want to be alone right now,” his chest vibrates against your cheek as he speaks. “But can I just say that I hate this plan?”
His honesty is refreshing, candid and desperately needed. It causes the corners of your mouth to tug upwards, ever so slightly. The ache lessens, the echoes aren’t as deafening. 
Pressing your nose against the base of Steve’s neck, you allow yourself to be weak in this moment. To be soft, vulnerable, trusting that he’ll catch you. “I don’t want to die.”
Steve kisses your forehead, lips warming the cold skin underneath. “I know.” His finger strokes your cheek. He memorizes the lines and dots that litter your face. Old scars, new ones that will never really go away. “It’s a good thing I won’t let you.”
You smile again. No one can promise anything anymore. Yesterday you almost died, today you will use your life as bait, and tomorrow you might never see. Nothing is promised. Not anymore. 
Yet you believe Steve. 
“What did you see in your vision?”
The question is whispered and velvety. You haven’t talked about last night, but Steve knows whatever you saw is weighing on you. He can see the way you carry it on your shoulders, tired and aching. He noticed the tension between you and Nancy, the unyielding fear of letting your brother go. 
Your eyes meet. The brown honey in Steve’s eyes reminds you that he’s real. Here, in his arms, you’re safe. You could confess all your sins to him and Steve would kiss the impurity with holy lips and call you angel. 
Taking a deep breath, you tell him everything. 
“He took me to a field. I recognized that it was Virginia the moment my feet touched the grass. I could see my childhood home up the hill and there was someone calling my name.” Your father’s voice echoes in your ears. You can’t remember the last time he called. “It was my dad.”
Steve pulls you closer.
“I ran to him, even though I knew it wasn’t real, but–” you were a child when he left. The wound will never fade. “I had to see him. I just… I wanted to remember what it was like to be held by him.”
Warm. You remember the warmth.
“Then suddenly I was falling. I screamed, but-but no one could hear me. I was in the woods. The same woods Will disappeared in and I was so scared he had him. That it was all my fault again. I was the one who lost him again. I started to run. I-I had to find him… But he wasn’t there.”
How many times had Will called for you the night he disappeared?
“He’s safe in California, Y/N.” Steve reminds you, tucking hair out of your face. He wants to smooth the worry lines in your face, mold your skin into something calmer, happier. “It wasn’t real.”
“I know none of it was real, but the things Vecna showed me…” Unable to bear saying anything else, you give yourself a moment to breathe. Nothing had been real. But it had felt real. 
Steve frowns, sensing that there’s something else. “What else did he show you, angel?”
“You,” you breathe out, too weak to find any other way to say it. “He showed me you.”
Surprise mars his pretty face. “Me?”
“Nancy, too.” Wiping a tear, you fix Steve’s hair, needing something to distract yourself with. You don’t want to tell him any of this. Shame coats your body but the love in his eyes subdues it. “Vecna preys on your fears, your insecurities, and for me… He showed me you and Nancy together. Having sex.”
Steve doesn’t say anything. 
“He told me that you’d never forget her. Not as easily as my father forgot me, at least.” You laugh bitterly. “He has a sick sense of humor. I’ll give him that.” 
Still Steve remains silent. 
But for once, his silence doesn’t scare you. There’s a trust behind it. An understanding that he wants you to continue, to tell him everything. And you do. 
“I’m scared my guilt will suffocate me.” The confession falls from your lips as easily as a prayer does. “I’m scared of starting a life with someone that I can’t control. I’m scared that I’ll always be abandoned. That I’ll always be second to Nancy. Every boy I have loved has loved her. Who wouldn’t be terrified of that?”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.” Steve cups your face. He doesn’t know what he feels right now. Anger, for both you and him. Agony that he can’t absolve you from the guilt, from the thought of him leaving you. “I love you. Only you.”
“I know you do,” you bring your hand to his face as well. He leans against your palm, gaze tragic and loyal. There is no doubt that he loves you. That has never been what you’ve doubted. 
It’s always been the how. 
How he came to love you. After Nancy. After she left him. After you picked up the pieces she left behind. The love that you know is yours is genuine, but you’ve always been terrified that the foundations of it are false. 
With Steve staring down at you as if you’ve hung the sun and moon for him, you ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind ever since he crashed into your life. 
“Would you have loved me even without Nancy? If we hadn’t fallen together because of her, would you still have fallen in love with me?”
The answer comes easily to Steve. “Always.”
And it’s everything you need from him. One word, but it’s enough. 
Your fist grips his shirt. A tug, no time to prepare, and your lips crash together. There is nothing soft. The kiss is bruising and it is rough and hard and urgent. Everything left unsaid between you and Steve rises to your lips and melts into your tongues. For every broken promise, there is a bite of skin, a lick of flesh. For every hurt you brought upon the other, there is a soft moan of an apology.
Heat pours from your teeth and into Steve’s lungs. Your breaths become one, your heartbeats overlap and he is everywhere. He is an explosion of light festering on your skin. 
“I see more than just a future with you,” Steve whispers against your lips, hushed and aching. It takes everything within him to pull away for even a second. He kisses you again. Over and over until he’s memorized every crevice of your lips, the cracks on them. “I see my entire life with you.”
Steve breathes you in, hands cradling your face as if to steady the dizziness within him. He looks into your eyes, follows the flushed pink of your lips and your staccato breathing. He takes you in and hopes he never has to forget the way you look when you are in love. 
“I would wait forever,” lips skim the length of your face. Feather light kisses trace your nose, flutter against your eyelids. Inhaling sharply, Steve rests his forehead against yours. He stays there. He will never leave. “I would wait forever if it meant I could start forever with you.”
This is love. This is what can never be taken from me.
“Hey! Lip smackers!” Robin bangs through the RV door, scaring the shit out of you and Steve and causing you to spring apart. She smirks at your reaction, though she tries to cover it with a scoff. She crosses her arms. “Are you assholes gonna help us, or are you too busy swapping spit?”
Steve’s face turns fire red. “Do you always have to be so vulgar?”
“It’s why people find me so charming. Right, Y/N?”
“As long as the nickname ‘lip smackers’ doesn’t stick, I’ll agree with whatever.” You say, getting off the couch. 
Robin laughs. “I actually kinda like it. Has a nice ring to it, ya know?”
“No,” you and Steve say at the same time. Your “no” is more bored while Steve’s is more panicked. 
Rolling your eyes at his affronted reaction, you pat his cheek lovingly and press a quick kiss to it. “Nicknames aside, I should go. There’s one more person I need to talk to.”
Steve tilts his head at you, silently asking who, but you don’t respond. Instead, you turn to Robin. “Whatever you make him help you with, just promise me you won’t scar his pretty face. I have to look at it for the rest of my life.”
Robin grins, secretly relieved the two of you finally seem to be okay again. “No promises, pretty girl. He’s gonna help me make molotov cocktails and we all know his hair is a fire hazard.”
“Ha ha,” Steve laughs boredly. “Very funny.”
You giggle alongside Robin, leaving them to grab their needed supplies. The sunlight outside kisses your skin and in the distance you find Eddie chasing Dustin around. They wield their makeshift shields around, laughing like children.
The image of them before you leaves you breathless for a moment. Even when everything seems grim and hopeless, Eddie has still found a way to make your brother laugh.
They don’t see you approaching them. You have to sidestep Dustin, who nearly runs into you. “Woah!” You grab his shoulders, steadying him. Something pokes your thigh, and when you look down you realize it’s his nail filled trash lid. “God, you’re bound to poke someone’s eye out.”
“What are you doing here?” Dustin asks you, looking around for Steve.
“I came to ask if I could steal Eddie away from you for a second.” You respond, shrugging as if you’ve ever offered to interact with Eddie outside of Dustin. “I need to talk to him.”
Both boys widen their eyes. Eddie pales, while Dustin narrows his eyes at you. “The last time I let you talk to one of my friends, you ended up making him your boyfriend.”
Eddie blanches while you flick your brother’s forehead. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want Eddie to be my boyfriend.”
Without another word, you grab Eddie by his jacket and yank him away. Dustin shouts at you that he’ll rat you out to Steve, but you don’t care. Eddie is a mumbling mess, unsure what you want with him and slightly terrified he’s done something wrong. 
When you’re far enough away from everyone else, you finally release him. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you look at Eddie. “I owe you an apology.���
“Oh.” He blinks. This definitely hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Can I ask what for?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know I kinda lost my mind earlier. You can say it.” You roll your eyes. “I won’t kill you.” 
“Says the girl who held a knife to my throat.”
“Water under the bridge.” Your fingers fidget. You know this is the right thing to do, but it still makes you uncomfortable. “Look, it was wrong of me to snap at you. I, uh. Get pretty defensive when it comes to accepting help.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, although his eyes flash with slight amusement. 
You clear your throat. “I guess I also struggle to accept when I’m no longer needed.”
“Bullshit.” Eddie laughs in your face. “The universe will always need Hawkin’s sweetheart. Don’t sound so pessimistic, sunshine.”
“You never shut up, do you?” You cut him off, glaring. Here you are, trying to be vulnerable with him, and he’s laughing at you. “Jesus. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I shockingly have found myself tolerating you.”
“Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”
“I try,” you glance quickly at Eddie, smirking, and he smirks back. “For a long time, I didn’t understand what Dustin saw in you. You were a total jackass with a giant ego, but I guess these last few days have proven you’re only a tolerable jackass with a moderately oversized ego.”
A surprised laugh leaves Eddie’s lips. “Wow, you really aren’t holding back.”
“Figured we’re overdue for some honesty.” You hate being vulnerable, but Eddie deserves this. Swallowing down your nerves, you finally confess the real reason you’re here. “I’ve never had to place Dustin’s safety in someone else’s hands. I’ve always found a way to be there for him, even through years of constant hell and monsters. I’ve always… I’ve always been the one to protect him.”
Eddie’s laughter is gone.
“But tonight I can’t. Tonight, all I can do is make you promise me that you’ll keep my baby brother safe. I-” Your voice breaks, there are tears that you don’t want to fall. “I need you to promise me, Eddie.”
He sucks in a breath. The boyish humor he so often portrays is stoic. He’s serious, perhaps for the very first time since you’ve met him. 
The two of you stare at one another, both unwavering, before Eddie slowly, almost mischievously, extends his pinky to you. “I promise.”
Linking your pinky around his, your cheeks burn from the suppressed smile. 
– 
The sun is setting when everyone climbs back into the RV. No one speaks. There isn’t anything else to talk about, driving to the Creel house. 
The silence weighs heavily upon the car, setting alongside the sun. You sit in the passenger seat, holding your knives to your chest with your headphones dangling over your neck. There is still blood staining the bandage on your shoulder. The bites on your thigh aches. 
You’ve done all that you can. You keep repeating this to yourself, over and over again like a prayer.
You’ve prepared, you’ve planned, you’ve sacrificed. There isn’t anything else you can do. All that’s left is the end. 
Steve sits next to you, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. His forehead is creased and his shoulders are tense. The closer you get to the house, the more he draws into himself. 
When you finally get to the house, Erica, Lucas, and Max almost leave without saying anything else. While there are no more well wishes to give, no more luck to spare, you can’t bear the thought of leaving them without hearing their voices.
“Be careful,” you follow after them, exiting the RV as well. The three of them turn to you, bittersweet smiles on their faces. They knew you’d do this. 
“We will.” Lucas reassures you, refraining himself from reaching out. He knows that if he hugs you now, he may never let you go. Instead, he ducks his head at you. “We’ll see you later, alright?”
Blinking back tears, you nod back at him. The siblings walk away, leaving you alone with Max. A part of you wonders if they planned this. Stepping towards her, you try one last time to exchange her life for yours. 
“Can I at least ask you not to antagonize Vecna? If you try to persuade him to take you instead, I’m haunting your grave.” It’s a vile thing to say, a joke that you know you’ll come to regret, but it’s the only way you know to get Max to laugh one last time. 
Max does laugh, but she also doesn’t promise you anything. Instead, she exchanges her life for yours. “If he chooses you, remember to picture your good memories. Hide in them. Run to the light.” 
You nod, you’ve spoken briefly about her plan before. It makes sense, in a way. Instead of getting trapped in the bad memories Vecna shows you, you need to hide in the good. Except what Max says next hadn’t been discussed. 
“It’s what Billy tried to do with you. You were his light.” 
It catches you off guard, freezing your lungs. 
“His final words… they took me a while to understand. But I think I know now, and I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of it.” Max’s gaze softens. “You told Billy to find you, and that’s what he tried to do.”
But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?
Talking to you… sweetheart.
Like pieces of a puzzle, everything falls into place.
Unable to stop yourself, you throw your arms around Max. She tenses, and you almost release her with an apology, before she melts; she hugs you back. It’s been a long time since she’s done that.
“Billy was trying to find the light,” she whispers into your ear. “That’s how we’re going to survive.”
And you believe her.
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