#One day i'll write a fic for them. One day i will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polaritiesoop · 1 day

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Lemme just share here this one-shot? I guess? based on the what-if Scar was left in the SL server for way too long of a time? So yeah, its just Scar all on his own. Trapped in SL for some unforeseeable future. This is supposed to be prologue to a fic idea I have, but I don't know if I'll be able to write it in entirety really. BUT because this took me long to write, I want to share it regardless. Its nothing special. Just Angst. Hurt.... but is there comfort? Technically yes?

Title: Far From Home

Words: 5,000+

Scar is still trapped in the Secret Life Server. With nothing much to do but wait for a miracle to bring him home. But in the mean time, he fixes what he could fix, and tends to animals left on the server.

--------

And that was the last block placed.

Scar take steps back to survey his work. It looks right from what he could remember of the Heart Foundation. There wasn't much interior in it, right? It was just some big heart on the middle of an island filled with cherry wood leaves. Not like Scar was a frequent visitor inside either.

But! ...this was the last structure to rebuild. He has done best on the terrain surrounding the Heart Foundation. Truly can be called pink land at how cherry trees lined up the lake, its petals fluttering on the grass and on the rippling water.

Scar did his best. He never was the closest ally toward Tango, Big B, and Skizz in this server. He resented them. The first few people on his kill list. But they weren't the cruelest either.

This would be the prettiest place at night second after Lizzie's cute little cottage, which he thinks he can never give justice on rebuilding. Though Scar doesn't plan to stick around long for the night to come and see. He has all the time in the world after all.

Scar felt a peck on his cheeks he grew accustomed to along with little chirps and loud squawks near his ear. He looks at the parrot companions perched on his shoulders, a gray and a cyan parrot.

"Wouldn't this be a lovely home for you, Tango and Skizz?" Scar asked all jolly. A peck on his forehead caught his attention, crossing his eyes up to peak at the tilted head of a blue parrot. "And of course you too, Big B!" the blue parrot clambered on his palm. He chuckles at inquisitive looks it give toward the build. It mimics his words rather poorly.

Sinister as it is to call these parrots after the fallen members of the Heart Foundation. One of them...he personally killed. Sure. In his defense, he admits to it now, he did his best to bury what was left of Tango's body. Even burying him with his allies, though it took long to find BigB's and Skizz's body. He just couldn't think of better names when he visited the jungle yesterday, and he was busy making progress in rebuilding the Heart Foundation that he could only think of them, when he saw these three were the only parrots left, as far as he was aware, he plans to return later in hopes to find more.

It wouldn't be a bad idea to let the birds stay in here. They might adjust fine to the cherry wood trees! And Scar could always feed them seeds every day.

"What do you say, if you three stay here?" He asks again expecting a reply, somehow. He lays down some pumpkin seeds on the ground. The birds munch on them quickly. Big B, the parrot, stares at him oddly flapping its wings and squawking. As if trying to communicate, or so was his wishful thinking.

"You guys stay here. I'll come back tomorrow morning." They seem to understand the command, despite being only tamed yesterday. Man, he could be a zookeeper at how many animals he saved and bred! All bases had some animals left that he fed and provided with better areas to live. Scar could go crazy if all he did was rebuild, he had made it his personal mission in keeping the remaining animals in this server. Which came with some extensive farming too.

Scar does leave the Heart Foundation once he was finish surveying his work. The birds were not following him, so he felt comfortable at leaving them be.

Scar hops onto his camel. His petulant camel, he called Cheerio. Cheerio 2.0, he did lose his first camel but he found a camel egg at one of the chests at the abandoned bases of Gem and the Scotts.

"Cheerio, let's go!" Scar got what he would call an equivalent of an eye-roll before Cheerio lifts off the ground and she starts walking. Slowly.

Thus, a petulant camel.

"C'mon, you had plenty of grass to eat!" He pats at her neck, like a complaint she grunts. Horses and other steads would've been better but they weren't quite friendly when Scar tried to ride them. They still remembered their owners even though they seemed scattered about the server, most likely abadoned or forgotten. The best Scar did for them was to build stables, and lead their infuriating butts inside.

But Cheerio 2.0 feels familiar like an old friend that Scar cannot hate.

At the back of his mind, he wonders if any llamas were roaming the server.

Just passing by Trader Scar's, he decided it would be better to leave Cheerio inside opting to walk the rest to the Jungle nearby.

The sun was nearly setting. The sky was on its red and orange hues. Usually Scar would avoid spending the night in a forest area. But today? he was feeling brave!

"Maybe not the best biome..." he thought to himself. The Jungle was green as ever, a creeper's favorite place, definitely. This biome is small, still imposing with its large trees. Scar could hear bugs, yet no birds at all.

He was starting to think it was a bust, it was not worth it, climbing vines peeking on the shades of trees and on the branches, or any signs of nests which last time led him on finding Tango, Skizz, and Big B.

His last resort was to climb the largest tree, trying to spot a different color other than green on the forest floor. Or spot anything moving below, there are green parrots too. The sun sinks beyond the horizon, the cold air was tell tale signs of mobs spawning soon. He should just return tomorrow morning.

"I should get outta here." Scar was about to climb down a vine when he heard a creeper hiss directly behind him. The man yelps and fell off, a flash of pain on his ankle caused him to yell and stay laid on the ground. He manages to realize just in time that the creeper was shuffling towards him. With all the force he could muster, the creeper died at a slash of his diamond sword. It vanishes into gunpowder.

He tries to catch his breathe before checking if he did not just sprained his ankle. To his relief, he could move it with minimal pain, "Oh man, atleast the worst did not happen." Scar laughs, "but it'll be faster to get back to spawn."

There was another hiss.

Scar scrambles to swing his sword behind him. Only not to see any creeper. He quickly turns to look around, but he saw nothing.

Hiss.

There was it again! But there weren't any creepers to see!

"Void, I must be going crazy, huh?" Scar lifts up his shield near his body. He could hear skeletons and spiders too, "serves me right for winning this stupid game."

"Stupid game."

Scar jumped at hearing those words behind him accompanied by a wicked laugh. It was a witch. He twisted to look and parry at an upcoming potion throw, ignoring the sting of pain on his ankle, only for him to be meet with ... nothing.

No large purple hats, no purple robes, no weird long flabby nose.

His pulse quickens and his body is shaken by a cold shiver, "What, what is going on?"

He felt something wet on his nape. Scar wonders if it was going to rain despite the clear skies. His palm wipes at whatever that wet feeling is.

What he sees on his finger pads at the moon light is... white and yellow.

His question is answered to him when he hears a squawk. Fear and confusion was exchanged by excitement. Above him, on pearly light, was a red parrot. It was looking at him. It was squawking. What he got on his fingers was definitely bird poop but he could not be anymore happier at seeing another bird.

"Oh my gosh. Okay, okay... we need seeds." Without looking away, he digs through his pockets for seeds, happy that he still a got a few and thankful that he had not thrown it all out.

"Come here, birdie, birdie. I've got some delicious seeds for you." He offers up a palm full of seeds. The parrot did not move for a second, simply mimicking nearby sounds and flapping its wings. It was just staring.

"Geez, are you picky or something- ow!" Scar felt a prick on his arm. He sees an arrow imbedded on a tree trunk. A skeleton had sneaked behind him. Quick on his feet, he put up his shield and grips his sword. Scar made a quick work of the skeleton but another emerged out of the bushes. Now, he is paying close attention to the surroundings, there were many mobs moving towards him.

He could barely dodge all arrows firing at him, "Awful timing! awful timing!"

He fought every mob coming at him. Until there were none left. He was left breathless but at least the bird did not get hit by an arrow.

Speaking of the bird, he searches around for where it could've gone. It was squawking around while he was fighting.

He was surprised that the seeds he accidentally thrown on the ground were... not there. Consumed by the looks of it.

Scar gasps, "this means it's tamed!"

There were wings flappings overhead. "There you are, young man! I was worried you would fly off somewhere. I'll give you a name later, let's go home for now." Scar extends out his arm for the bird to land on.

Except, it didn't respond. It fled away to the tree tops.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" Scar groans at himself, that was not a tamed parrot at all. Of course those seeds were not enough.

Chasing the parrot to wherever it was going was probably not the best idea. At every angle he's getting assaulted by mobs. To climb the treetops instead was hard, spiders could still follow him. The darn parrot just cannot be caught, always airs away from Scar's reach. He does not even have seeds on hand that he needed to climb down again, to try quickly get some watermelons and shove his hand inside to pick some seeds. He had to do it all without keeping his eyes off that parrot.

Oh, and run right after it with arrows sticking up every where on his aching body.

Finally, for what seems like an hour, the parrot landed on the tallest tree. Scar wasn't gonna give up now.

Through panting breaths he yelled pointing a finger at that stoic face, "You better stay there! I am coming to get you!" against his body's protests, he climbs the vines all the way to the top nearly letting go, surprised by the squawk that greets him. How funny.

Scar wheezes as he drags his body to prone on the precarious branch of the tree, "Man, I don't think this is worth it."

"Squawk!"

Scar glares at the parrot. It pecks at its feather in a way for Scar looks like a person picking on their nails. "Oh, you must be sooo proud of yourself, huh."

"Squawk!"

"Alright, alright. You've won the race."

"Squawk!"

"But bet you don't know what a runner does after a marathon."

"Squawk."

"You got it. By after any race, what's better than some hearty refreshments?" Scar presents the wet seeds in his hands, gripped with so much strength during the run his nails left marks on his palm. "This is newly harvested, just so you know from the most finest hands on this server. Well, the only ones really working. Have a taste?" He starts sweating when the parrot tilts its head longer than it probably should. When it did let out a sweet trill and hop near his palm to peck at a seed that Scar lets out a relieved sigh.

Never mind the sharp beak pecking his skin, it could not compare at the burn he feels on his muscles.

"No skipping leg day." He said defeatedly.

"Squawk!"

"Word."

Scar ends up watching the parrot devour the seeds to its hearts content. To lay on his front and having to keep his arm extended is not a comfortable position for the rest of the hour. Scar feels more tired than ever when he could see the sun shining on the hills.

"Would be nice to get a nap."

This time the parrot simply whistles. He wonders if it's already done eating, it kept pecking while he watched the stars and the moon fade away.

Scar felt a sharp pinch. He retracted his hand in shock. "Ouch! What was that for?!" The parrot does not look guilty being hit by an accustory look. It oddly looks satisfied. He would be angry if it wasn't cute to see a seed stuck on its top beak.

"Void, tell me atleast you are tamed." Scar pleads, groaning as he sits up to try and extend his forearm again. The parrot lifts up, circling as if it is acting like it's running away again, but Scar felt happiness welling up when it landed on his forearm.

"Okay this is good. Geez, you took so much seed to tame!" Scar complains right at the parrot's face. It retaliates in the form of a full warm poop. Great.

"...And you're so not friendly. What is wrong with you?" He tuts.

The parrot squawks and he scoffs pointing a finger on its head, "Your companions were perfectly friendly! And not greedy! Skizz and Tango were loud, sure, but they were loveable. Big B loved hiding, acting all sinister, but he loves my hair. But you little man?" Scar huffs, "You are such-... such a ..." Scar trails off. A certain word hangs at the tip of his tongue. And there was that. The sinking feeling in his stomach that clenches him on his ribs to his heart.

His croaks, " ... what a pesky bird."

What is wrong with him? Really, over a word?

The parrot blinks, gnawing his finger without much a reply.

His breath constricts at the wave of it hitting him. A sense of painful nostalgia, flashing to him in a memory of a Jungle far larger and warmer than this - this little excuse of a biome. In a server where he once belongs to now out of his reach... taken out of his reach.

Scar blinks at the tears welling up. He uses his dirty sleeves to brush it off furiously, "Not this again, danggit. Geez!"

The parrot seems to stop gnawing to stare at him in blank confusion.

He lets out a wet laugh. "I miss him."

Scar missed them a lot. It's been how many fucking days has it been since he won? since he realized that he is forever stuck here with a task already fulfilled?

The parrots could not understand that. Nor can Cheerio, nor the steads, Lizzie's bees, nor Etho's sheep. No one's coming back for those animals other than Scar.

Good for them, because who the hell is coming back for Scar?

"He did not even come back for me, stupid... Grian." Scar wipes at his tears, and forces a breath pass to his lungs. "This is pathetic."

When is anyone going to come back for him? he questions this everyday. He has nightmares of Pearl, of Etho, of Tango, of anyone, choking and killing and crying at them his question more like a plea. He screams at the Secret Keeper of his question.

But curse the gods and all, no one will hear him.

"Squawk."

Except a parrot obviously. Scar couldn't help chuckling at the parrot's antics, it landed on his head doing whatever on his hair. He wipes his tears away, finding this whole thing ridiculous. This bird is ridiculous. It pooped again, on his hair.

"Yeah, I'm calling you Grian." Scar smiles, the name carries a heavy weight on his heart.

"Squawk!"

"Not the best person to be named after I tell you."

-----

Trying to get Cheerio to hurry up her pace while keeping an eye on Grian so as not fly off anywhere, overcame Scar's whole being with absolute exhaustion when they finally reached the Heart Foundation. It would be best to leave the new parrot here too, where he can live and be taken care of too. Scar knows how parrots are not solitary animals.

"Off you go now, shoo! I had enough of you squawking at my ear and pooping on my cape!" Scar scolds urging other parrots to get accustomed with their newest addition. He can already tell they are familiar with each other. Plus, Scar is not too keen on having this kind of parrot companion admittedly amusing but a very obnoxious bird. Something, something namesake.

"I am leaving you guys now." Scar offers up more seeds for the birds before leaving the island.

He couldn't help but stare at the flock, they were flying around well and playing by the looks of it. There shouldn't be any concern then in leaving them.

Scar realized halfway to spawn that he does not have any more goals in mind. He was relieved to find Grian, and he was sure there were no more other birds in that Jungle.

In like some sort of trance, Scar steers Cheerio on the way to the base of Etho and Cleo. The sheep and cows need tending to for sure. Before he knew it, he was making rounds around the server to check on the animals leaving the mounders for last.

Scar replaced the water and gave more hay to one of Bdub's horse. That he might as well call Bdubs! His mane does remind him of that man's hair when it was blond. Scar chuckles at it, heart achingly, because he misses that little man too. They were at petty odds fighting over who is Cleo's favorite child, but his angry shouts and jolly attitude... Scar misses him.

"Oh, the sun's setting." Scar murmurs to himself. He got caught in the chores again, geez.

So, what to do next? Scar wonders. He decided to walk Cheerio instead of riding on. He was in his thoughts when the sky darkens around him.

Subconsciously, Scar came to the Secret Keeper.

It was a mess. He had left so many papers on the ground, some teared up and some empty, scattered with leather covers. There is a serious overgrowth all over this area. Foliage and wildflowers, moss and cracks on the concrete.

When was the last time he visited this area? 10 days? 20 days? Scar knew he managed to steer clear for a while. He has lost count of days, as making a diary felt like an unnecessary chore.

He feels his fingers itch. Right in front of him was the button, never quite worn up at all unlike the fail and the reroll buttons.

He lets Cheerio stay out, as he walks near it. A part of him is anticipating, which is funny how he still got this glimmer of hope that something would change one day if he just presses that button again. But he knew he would be only disappointed.

"I'm here." Scar announces. He hovers over the button. He stares at the statue through tired eyes. Of course, it does not respond.

Scar slams the succeed button and the incorporeal voices were near comfort to his ears despite the gibberish whispers. He hears that music saying he succeeded, but he once again hears the whispers and another book has popped and landed on his hands.

Win Secret Life.

Scar sighs, "Same thing." and the new book joins the others on the ground. Scar sat down, his back against the button. He closes his eyes and breathes out. He wraps his arms around his legs, never opening his eyes as he feels for the moonlight and the night breeze.

-------

There was a rumble.

It had awoken Scar up. Though his back aches and his vision was blurry from sleep, he managed to see a bright object dropping down from the sky and its blast illuminating an area of the server before disappearing with a boom followed by a shockwave that made Scar stumble to his front.

He groans at the impact and the scrape the cobbled ground gave him. Other than that and a faint ringing in his ears, he was okay. Thank the void he was okay.

Scar could only stay sat on the ground. He could see that there is smoke on the distance but not too far. When he realized where it went, he felt the urge to run for it, even though he knew it was just his destroyed base.

Cheerio was being loud, the poor animal is probably in distress. As gentle as he could, he stood up to comfort the camel.

"Shhh, Cheerio... everything's fine. We're okay." He said soothing her to calm down. It seems to help, though she seems agitated still. Scar doesn't know what to do other than continue patting her.

....What in the world happen?

It was good that whatever the thing that flew and crash landed on his base was not a bigger blast. The shockwave made him believe it's radius of explosion would expand all across the server. The Mounder's base looks perfectly intact from what Scar could see from the secret keeper atleast. Was it a meteor?

Scar pushes the camel to sit, "Sit down, Cheerio. That rumbled must've got you off balanced. I'll go investigate." and surprisingly, she listened to him. For the most part she looks to be calming down, so Scar felt good enough to leave her to make his way to his base.

It was mostly curiosity than concern of what happened to his base. It wasn't intact at all when he left it, only its walls and parts of the court house were destroyed because of tnt traps.

So when Scar was near enough to see what really hit it.... things were mostly fine. Like the impact was from another tnt not some space object. There was a small crater at the front of what used to be Trader's Scar....yet oddly, no space object to see. But the sunflowers and berry bushes near it were scorched around the assumed point of impact. Scar was beyond confused. He wonders if this is another hallucination or a weird dream.

His eyes searches around. Nothing is amiss. He contemplates if he should just go back to Cheerio until there was an echoing sound, of something high pitched that made him jump.

He looks at his back at the ruins of Trader's Scar. There was it again, it sounded like a child crying and the thought of a baby suddenly spawning in this server made Scar shiver. He asked to get out of here, for god's sake!

Scar was going to run away but it sounds more and more insistent and faded. It rings a bell, somehow, that Scar felt a sense of deja vu. That echoing cry of something could only come from the mine shaft and mob farm he made long exposed to weather. Probably dangerous to go down its ladders.

Scar observes. The ladders are intact and not erroding as he thought. There's no more light, all torches burned off since he stopped coming here. A cold air passes through him from the hole. Is it actual air or fear seeping in his skin? Because this feels like the start of a horror movie!

"Do I really have to?" Scar whines. He hadn't expected a response yet he got one akin to an ominous drone that made him want to sprint to the secret keeper for protection.

"Okay! When did my mineshaft become such a place of nightmares?" He laughs nervously, hair rising as his words echo down and that sound suddenly stopped.

Does he really want to go down there? There has to be so many mobs Scar will struggle to defeat. He breathes in deeply thinking about how worth it is to face whatever creature that is. On the bright side its something new! Scar is curious and bored, worst case scenario? Nothing! He will always respawn back at the secret keeper and he can curse at it for bringing a haunted creature at him, and not some getaway helicopter back to home!

Scar's hands has made the decision before his brain starts to function. The ladder felt rickety to his sweaty grip.

"Why am I doing this to myself?"

Only eerie silence met him this time. A normal person would think thats cue to leave.

Unfortunately for everyone, Scar is far from normal.

His feet finally hit cobble. He was surprise that there is still a torch lighting the tunnels dim. No immediate attack from some mob, no hideous clown face coming to gnaw him.

"I did come all the way down here." Scar sighs, "There's no going back."

He takes another torch to light from his inventory. He is surprised of his own bravery of looking and exploring tunnels. So far he cannot hear that crying sound from everywhere.

Nothing really remarkable caught his attention. Everything looks normal, too normal and somehow strange for Scar. This was his mineshaft, sure everything looks the same, but there is no attachment to this place, it was simply a reminder of that urgency Scar felt because of the unfortunate tasks that brought him to this situation.

He hears a shuffle. That couldn't have come from him as he was stood on a little room carved out to accomodate chests of random items. He was starting to hear his pulse because of the silence, now he hears it gallop because of that odd noise.

"A-alright! What comes there?!" Scar decides to bravely ask. He wants to get this over with. He equips his sword, ready to face whatever is at the dark, "Just know that I can and will kill you once I find you."

He hears that cry, now much closer but still echoing around the walls he could never quite pinpoint the source. His eyes frantically looks around, for any thing thats moving.

Scar picks to march on another tunnel. Staying silent to observe that cry, where he could hear it closest. He follows it, the turns he takes are almost dizzying that makes him feel lost forever or that he was in some labyrinth that BigB made. But he could hear it clearer and he knew he was close, he wasn't gonna turn around. He reaches another room. This ones bigger and was obviously a section of a cave he found. The crying stopped. Scar held his breath anticipating to hear it at any of the tunnels.

At the corner of his eyes, he spots movement. He was swift to turn to his feet onto the long winding tunnel. He dropped the torch away to equip his shield and approaches the shadow he can see at the end of it. It turns at him, and he hears a hiss. He knew it was too late to hit it, so he braces for impact with his shield but it never came. None of the familiar blast. Instead, the creeper seems to back away. Unmoving. Scar tilts his head in confusion. Why was the creeper not blowing up, and when he did adjust his eyes to the dark, its back was turned on him.

Then, he felt something brush at his thigh. He screams in panic, lets go of his shield, lands on his butt rather painfully, and realizes that the creeper was suddenly shuffling closer towards him. It flashes before Scar's hand could hold up the shield. He could only close his eyes, knowing it hurts more to get his eyeballs blasted.

'Well, I'm coming home, Secret Keeper.'

Something landed on his head. He heard more hissing but this one... this one hiss wasn't the kind of distinct hiss of a creeper.

Scar froze unable to really move at whatever it was on his head. But it was lightweight. Oddly familiar. His scalp is hurting and getting pricked by something, and the creeper was... running away?

"What just happened?" He asks. Expecting an answer. Something landed on his stomach. His hands comes around it. The silhouette of what was....

"Meow."

...a cat?

Scar knows that Impulse has a villager along with Scott and Gem that they used to trade with. He found the villager, but it was only singular that couldn't form a village on his own that Scar set free to be killed by mobs. There were no village on the server, nor any beyond the border. So, how was there a cat existing in this server? And here in a mineshaft of all areas?

Scar holds the cat. The torch he left on the ground long extinguished.

"Who are you?" He asks. He got a paw on his mouth.

However, he was stupid to turn his back on the creeper still on the tunnel with them that it blew up behind him sending him to fall forward on his front. The cat definitely jumped out his hold.

Scar groans, "Yep, hurts. Everything hurts." He turns on his back. Just laying there unable to move much. He doesn't really care if it stings to... he just wants to lay down and take everything in.

That cat clambered on him. He would've told it to get off because its claws were scraping at new wounds when he felt a lick on his chin. What a sweet cat! He couldn't help but pet it even if the cat starts to nip at his nose.

"I don't know how you got here, but you're coming with me." Scar chuckles, hated how his ribs were definitely cracked. He remembers that he had a lantern on his inventory.

"Alright, mysterious cave cat. Let's see what you look like, and I'll name whatever first name I could think of." Scar grunts with what little strength he had on his hand, he gets the lantern to materialize. The cat mewls.

Scar turns to look at wherever he could put it and light it with a flint and steel.

His eyes shut at the pain of even moving, willing out the sudden lightheadedness he felt swaying his vision. He holds onto the cat, "Let's see... I'm naming you..." and lifts it up to see it clearly.

His breath caught in his throat. Heat pools behind his eyes at the familiarity of those eyes. Green eyes blinking down at him owlishly. The cat was of white fur and grey patterns so familiar to Scar that he knew right away that this cat wasn't just any cat at all.

"...Jellie?" His voice wavesr, unsure if he has truly gone out of his mind.

The cat mewls and bumps her head onto him. Fluffy and warm, a gesture so familiar that Scar tears up.

"Jellie... god, is it really you?" She purred, pawing on him and rubbing her head on his chin. Scar sobs.

It was Jellie. Jellie came for him. His sweet girl was here for him.

He holds her up laughing, and sobbing at how ridiculous this dream was but he wishes... how he fucking wishes to the secret keeper that he won't wake up ever.

"I've been...so alone, Jellie. You don't know how much I've missed you." Scar sobs out.

Jellie was here! Jellie is in his arms now, and god, crying hurts his chest but he couldn't stop. He never thought a piece of home would come for him at all in this endless game. Jellie was warm, and safe, and purring.

Scar was a mess on the cave floor, in utter agony from his injuries but the happiness and relief he feels at the moment has made the pain worth it.

Scar wasn't still in hermitcraft. This isn't Scarland. This isn't his tree house. His friends were not here. Scar was far from home. That constant hum of life was still in his bones.

But Scar has never felt any safer and happier than having Jellie in his embrace. He chokes out words he cannot understand himself.

But he murmurs it anyway at the top of Jellie's head, "I'm home."

#goodtimeswithscar #secret life #secret life fanfiction #goodtimeswithscar fanfic #third life smp #trafficblr

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nishimuraazr1zzkiii · 8 hours

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You big baby ༘⋆p.js

🍝

༘⋆Genre: fluff

.ᐟWarnings: nothing too extreme.

❅WC: 0.6k

ᝰNotes: got inspired since someone I know cries everytime they get a fever and their suitor took care of them(made me feel single istg)

๋Thinking about how jay would take care of you when you have a fever especially if you cry when you have a fever.

On the first day of you fever, waking up to an afternoon sun shining directly in your already watery eyes and a cold towel on your forehead. Feeling around the bed, you don't feel jay next to you, already guessing that he must have left for work already.

Not having enough energy and you feel sluggish than usual, you stayed in bed for a few hours trying to fall back asleep since your fever was getting worse by the hour. Eventually your fever got worse to the point that tears started to well up in your eyes threatening to fall.

Just as you tried to sit up, you hear the front door open and quickly close, you figured it'd be jay since you weren't expecting any visitors but it was to early for him to be home.

The door to your creaks open, jay peaked from the door checking if you're awake or not. Seeing that you were sat in bed with tears in your eyes.

"Y/n! My love, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jay rushed next to you and put down the plastic bag he was holding and cupped your cheeks while tears fell from your eyes as you sob quietly in jays arms. "I-i...don't k-know *hic* but m-my fever is ge-getting worse... " your voice trailed off by the end of your sentence, hearing this, jay immediately grabbed the plastic bag and took out a packet of pills, popping one out and grabbing the glass of water on your bedside table.

He gave you the pill and the glass of water, but you pushed it back to jay knowing you wouldn't be able to swallow the pill smoothly. "Ok y/n, I'll cook some soup for you and once I finish the soup, you can use it as a substitute for the water so you won't taste the pill" he got up from the bed and kissed your forehead, "get some rest while you wait, I'll leave the water and pills here if your thirsty" jay tucked you in bed and put a back the wet towel that was on your forehead and went out of the room.

You wake up a few hours later, you still felt like you were burning in a fire since your fever hasn't still cooled down, you hear the door open, showing jay holding a tray with a bowl of soup, a glass of water and the pills you still needed to take to make your fever go down.

"Is your fever still high Princess?" He put down the tray on the bedside table and checked your temperature and took the towel from your forehead away, "you should eat up and take the pill so the fever won't be so high tomorrow, do you need anything love?" You shook your head, indicating that you didn't need anything.

"alright then love, if you need me, I'll be down stairs cleaning all the dishes" but before jay had gotten a chance to stand up, you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards you on the bed "what is it love? Is there something wrong? " jay checked your temperature again "no... Can you.. Stay here with me for a while?" Your voice so quiet and soft that jay almost couldn't here you, he didn't say anything but he laid down next to you cuddling you to sleep, his face on your neck, your legs tangled together, his arm wrapped around your waist while the other one is under your head, jay softly caressing your hair, humming a soft tune lulling you both to sleep.

That's how the rest of your sick week has been. Waking up to jay cooking you breakfast and dinner, drinking your medicine, sleeping while waiting for jay to come back from practice, and cuddling to sleep.

Permanent taglist: @thelost-in-time

Wanna be reminded every time I post a oneshot, texts, and fics? Send an ask through my inbox to be added in my permanent taglist or if you want to become an anon or moots!

Want kpop related posts? Go to my side-blog @wanderers-archive ! I write for enhypen, straykidz and txt on my side blog!

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ceilidho · 23 hours

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Twenty questions for fic writers

thanks @kneelingshadowsalome !!!! @ohbo-ohno @charliemwrites if u guys wanna do this go ahead. or anyone else that feels like it

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

47 LMAO

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

a staggering 583,382

3. What fandoms do you write for?

call of duty basically exclusively now, but i used to also write for star wars, shadow & bone, spiderverse, rings of power, and the last of us (may write more for tlou in the future)

4. Top five by kudos.

dead ringer, take me home country road, red dawn, ghost prompts, and landscape with honey.

5. Do you respond to comments?

god i used to all the time ages ago, but now i don't. i truly just get so overwhelmed and it exhausts me. i will respond to the odd comment now and again though, and i read them all obsessively.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

"the terrible nature of ghosts" for sure

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i guess "landscape with honey" ended on a sweet note. or "birdsongs". i like writing fics that have endings that feel neither happy nor sad; i'd like to think that most of my fics end on a note that make you feel mildly uneasy but overall good.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have blocked an UNTOLD amount of people, so not anymore. but every now and then i'll get the stray "you're evil and the shit you write is fucked up" comment. people tend not to do that when you moderate comments though.

9. Do you write smut?

well now, that's my bread and butter

10. Craziest crossover.

i'm with salome on this one - i'm a purist. not interested in crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ages ago when i was younger sure. not since then thankfully.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

maybe?? i know some people have asked and i've given them permission but then they've never come back to tell me whether they did it or not.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes!!! i wrote "dead ringer" with a friend and it's my most popular fic lmao. i love love love co-writing with people, but i rarely do it because your style kind of has to match the other person's in order for it to work.

14. All time favorite ship?

god reylo was really it for me for the longest time. i'm not sure any non x reader thing will ever top that. i do LOVE abby/ellie from the last of us, but there's hardly anything for them.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

any reylo incomplete fic, im so sorry. it's just not gonna happen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

detailed descriptions. introspection and character analysis.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

DIALOGUE. i don't know how the fuck people talk sometimes. also longer plots. and i'm not amazing with visualizing how houses and places look for some reason so i really need to get better at that (i'll be honest, i still don't FULLY know what the town in "country roads" looks like so i try to describe it very vaguely).

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i really only enjoy it when it's used effectively - when the audience is supposed to be aligned with the main character in not understanding what's being said.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

teen wolf!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

"saltwater" my beloved. or "auribus teneo lupum" from my reylo days.

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spicyspiders · 3 days

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This blog doesn't get that many notes anymore which isn't surprising because I haven't been posting how I used to. But this morning, I woke up and saw that someone had liked a bunch of my fics. Like I do with most blogs that interact with my fics, I checked them out because they liked about 15 of them. They didn't reblog any of my fics, but they had reblogged a few from another male reader writer, which bothered me. It's nothing against that writer but it had me questioning why they reblogged their fics and not mine.

This way of thinking has gotten to the point that I'm thinking about deleting this blog altogether. Sometimes, I don't even want people to have access to the fics that I've written. It makes me feel like I'm whining and bitching because it's gotten to the point that I've begged people to interact with my fics and with me. Two specific male reader writers come to mind when I think about this because every time I've gone on their blog, they always have a lot of asks that they've answered where they're talking with their followers. I have a few of my own, which I'm grateful for, but it always makes me question why them and not me too? Most of the asks that I've gotten are requests for me to write something.

I don't think I'll delete this blog, I think that's too strong of a commitment, but I just wanted to put my thoughts out there cohesively. This post isn't me coming for anyone, or at those writers. In fact, I've spoken to one of them before and they're very cool. I've just felt this way for a long time, so I think it's good to actually type all of this out and get it out of my head. Instead, I might just end up deleting this post and pretending like it was never posted, but I'm not sure. I still have that want to write, I don't think that'll ever go away.

I don't think I should call this post whining or bitching, because it's my feelings, but if you've read this entire post of me whining and bitching, thank you. Also, please interact with the authors/artists that you like. Simply sending them an ask or a reply saying that you enjoy what they've posted can make their day.

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rems-writing · 20 hours

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An encounter with a Moon Knight

Trope: Apollo!Hongjoong × MoonKnight!reader

Context: Apollo is the god of music and the sun. He has a twin sister named Artemis, who is the goddess of the hunt and the moon.

Side note: ok originally I was gonna put the reader as a demigod. However, due to the fact that I didn't finish the PJO series on Disney Plus, I had to improvise

Once I catch up on the PJO series, maybe I'll write this trope again. But we'll see! Anyways

Includes: Yunho as Thor, Yeosang as Ptah, San as Hercules, Wooyoung as Loki, and Jongho as Sekhmet. There will be a tiny mention of Seonghwa as Anubis, but other than that, the ancient Egyptian god of the dead is completely gone. In addition, Mingi will not be in this as well. If you want to know where Seonghwa and Mingi have gone, you may read this so you can find them.

@newworldnet

@blossomnet

Thank you to @bunnliix for helping me decide the order of the fics I should write and post

In Greece's city square, people all around are doing the most normal things. From buying food/groceries at market stands to walking and chatting amongst themselves about whatever is going on in their lives, it seems like life is easy going, especially for the young god of music and the sun.

The Olympians know him as Apollo, but the mortals know him as Hongjoong.

Hongjoong was at a small cafe drinking coffee and munching on a sandwich slowly as he writes notes on empty staff paper, occasionally dipping his quill into an inkpot if he ran out of ink. He hums softly to himself whilst notating the melody at the same time. It was just another average day for him and he couldn't have been happier.

Until he heard a commotion from outside.

Snapping his head up, he looked out the window to see people gathering around or running towards the crowd to gather around. Looking at his surroundings, he waited until the coast was clear before snapping his fingers. The materials on the table disappeared, except for his coffee and sandwich. He packed up it and stood up from his table before bidding goodbye to the cafe's owner and exiting the small coffee shop so he could join the crowd.

He approached the crowd and squeezed through carefully to see what was going on. He asked one of the people for context on what was happening and that person simply pointed out something that was laying on the ground. Hongjoong turned his head slowly and his face paled.

That wasn't something.

It was someone.

As he got closer, his godly senses were on high alert. It didn't help that the crowd closed in on him now while he crouched down to see who this person was. A silent gasp escaped his lips as he saw the face of the person that was laying on the ground unconscious.

It was one of Khonshu's Moon Knights.

More specifically, it was the Moon Knight that Seonghwa Anubis explicitly told his godly brethren to not go near at all costs.

Y/N.

As the Spector twin laid unconscious, Hongjoong breathed in deeply before standing up to address the crowd.

"GUYS, IF YOU COULD PLEASE TAKE A STEP BACK AND ALLOW A BIT OF BREATHING ROOM FOR OUR GUEST! I'LL TAKE CARE OF THEM!"

His voice rang out throughout the city square and the people, albeit still concerned or curious, obeyed his command and stepped back as much as possible so he could pick up the unconscious twin and carry them to safety.

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

You didn't know how you ended up in Greece, yet you did either way.

One minute, you were with Marc in some random town to try and complete this fuckass mission Khonshu sent you guys on. The next minute, the both of you were thrown out of said town and went flying across the globe. You had no idea where your brother was and you were panicking. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you instantly knew that there was a godly presence behind you. Frozen in your place, you slowly looked up to see a kind man looking down at you with concern.

And he was pretty.

Soft lips, pretty nose, high cheekbones, brown eyes that were comforting, and an even prettier smile. His body was clad in an off-white t-shirt with some logo on it and a pair of black gym shorts.

What caught your attention the most was the tattoo peeking out of his sleeve. You tilted your head to the side to try and read it.

"No1LikeMe"

Even though your voice was hoarse, Hongjoong's smile grew bigger as you read the words on his tattoo out loud. You seemed calmer now, which was exactly what he wanted. He sat down next to you on the bed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are you ok?"

His voice was soft and a bit high pitched yet it carried a light feeling as he spoke. You nodded and stretched a bit before sighing and looking at him.

"Thanks for rescuing me. Um... weird question, but which god are you? I sensed a powerful aura when you approached me."

"Ahh. That's fine. My human name is Kim Hongjoong, but in this city's mythology, I'm known as Apollo."

You nodded in acknowledgement to his answer. You studied up on a bit of Greek mythology when you were younger so to have the god of music sitting right next to you was a bit overwhelming but in a good way.

"How long was I out?"

"For about three days."

THREE DAYS?!

WELL SHIT

You laughed awkwardly and were prepared to apologize when you felt his hand grab yours gently. You noticed that he had his pinky finger painted in an olive-green nail polish. You thought that was unique.

"Don't apologize, Y/N. I assumed you were on a mission and somehow, it went sideways and you ended up crash landing here."

Seeing the apprehension on your face due to him knowing your name without you telling him, Hongjoong quickly clarified.

"Before you ask, Anubis told us about you. How he let you go since he would feel even worse if he took you to the Field of Reeds at such a young age after dying underneath the statue of Khonshu."

Upon hearing the old bird's name, you cringed.

"Speaking of that fuckass pigeon, we were on a mission for him. The enemy was strong and we got defeated easily. Hence, how I landed here."

Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement as you clarified your unannounced presence.

"Ahh. I see. If I may ask, are you in a rush to get back on that mission? If not, I can ask my sister to fend off Khonshu whilst you recover and find a way to contact Marc."

Upon hearing Artemis's name, you nodded eagerly. She was your favorite moon deity and Olympian goddess so you took Hongjoong's offer up quickly.

"Will I have to do anything for her in return?"

"Other than maybe hunt some things for her, not really. Just recover. I'll help you find a way to get in touch with Marc."

"Thank you, Apollo."

"Just call me Hongjoong. Hearing my official name makes our friendship too formal."

You blushed out of awkwardness and Hongjoong patted your head before snapping his fingers. A record player appeared and his music was playing in the background. The soft melody made you relax and forget about everything as you laid down and fell back asleep.

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

That encounter happened three months ago. Ever since then, Hongjoong has been keeping up with updates about you through Artemis. As he sat in the same spot in the cafe and composed more music, his mind was completely in the zone.

Until Artemis sprinted into the cafe in her own human disguise and haphazardly sat across from him.

Startled by her sudden appearance, Hongjoong flinched and looked up. Usually, Artemis was calm and neutral so seeing her all frazzled and bewildered was unsettling.

"What's wrong, dear sister?"

"I've been given a message from Taweret. She said that you need to meet up with your friends for a meeting. With the urgency in her voice, I fear it's something bad."

Hongjoong nodded firmly and packed up everything before snapping his fingers and transporting himself from the cafe to the usual meet up place.

A secret room within The Colosseum.

He was soon met with the faces of his beloved friends.

Jeong Yunho, aka Thor Odinson

Kang Yeosang, aka Ptah

Choi San, aka Hercules

Jung Wooyoung, aka Loki Laufeyson

And Choi Jongho, aka Sekhmet

He saw a curly haired woman sitting in Seonghwa's Anubis's place and he instantly recognized who she was.

Layla El-Faouly, the wife of Marc Spector.

She served as Taweret's temporary avatar before so Hongjoong assumed that the hippo goddess asked permission to take over Layla once again since she can't leave the Duat.

"Hello, Layla. It's nice to meet you." Hongjoong politely said and Layla shyly waved. San raked over her awkward form and he was about to say something when Wooyoung whacked him over the head.

"San! She's married! And she's only here for a short time. So stop it!" Wooyoung hissed.

Ever since the Norse god of mischief started dating that Avenger in his timeline, Hongjoong noticed an air of maturity surrounding him. He was still playful and silly, but this time, he actually took things seriously.

Hongjoong noticed Layla stand straight momentarily before going back to normal. However, instead of the French accent she spoke with, a British accent came out of her mouth.

Taweret was here.

As the hippo goddess wrung her hands nervously, she looked to the rest of the gods, who were watching her intently.

"Um... so. I have an announcement for you all."

She breathed in and out shakily before continuing to speak.

"A lot of you are wondering why Anubis isn't here. Well... there is a reason. But at the end of the day, I am just the messenger."

She held out her hand and a scarab appeared. As it flew in her hand, its bioluminescent wings shone brightly to make a screen appear.

In the screen was Seonghwa, aka Anubis

"Hi, everyone. If you're seeing this message, then that means... I'm truly gone."

Everyone gasped, including Hongjoong. Only Yeosang and Jongho were the only ones that weren't as shocked with this revelation.

They knew.

"I'm not really dead per say, but... I've decided to join the mortal world. My memories as the ancient Egyptian god of the dead have been left behind in the Duat. I am a new man in a new body with a clear mind and an open clean heart. You may be wondering to yourselves now. Why would I do this?"

Hongjoong had a feeling but he decided to let his friend say it.

"As all of you were aware, Y/N was in the Duat momentarily when that follower of Ammit shot my beloved twice and left them to die."

Everyone cringed at Ammit's name, including Yunho. And he was usually the brightest god in their friend group.

"I took care of them and made sure they went back with Taweret to the land of the living so they could stop Ammit's wrath. However, in the process... my heart was broken once more."

A quiet sniffle from the god made Hongjoong's heart lurch in pain.

"I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to keep them to myself. However, if I did, then Ammit would've taken over the world. And I couldn't have that. I expressed my frustration with Taweret. She told me that I could be reunited with Y/N... for a small price."

A lone tear ran down the god's face.

"Did I pay it? Yes. Was it worth it...?"

The god smiled sadly yet it was bright and full of love.

"Yes. It was. By the time this message ends, I will most likely be in a new body with a new name. Do not search for me. Rather... remember me and make sure my old name lives on. Goodbye, my dear friends. May we reunite again someday."

The message soon ends and Taweret made the scarab disappear before comforting a crying Yunho. Wooyoung was comforting San while Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with Yeosang and Jongho.

The three of them knew that this day would come. And yet...

They can't help the small grins on their faces. After all...

Their friend deserved to be happy.

#newworldnet #blossomnet #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #greek mythology #greek gods #moon knight

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ladykailitha · 1 day

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WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

“File” Names

Valentine's Sequel

Boy w/a Bat Book 2

Metal Band Steve

Snippet

You'll notice that Werewolf is no longer on the list because we are getting the final 4-5 chapters and you REALLY don't want me to spoil that for you. The twists are going to be sooo good. And as soon as the sequel is done, I'll be back to working on those three exclusively. Well... until my plot bunny bites me again, anyway.

Valentine's Sequel

Eddie sat the back of the class as he always did, trying to come up with ideas of what to do for prom. Because of course Steve said yes.

Steve’s eyes lit up and he swung Eddie around chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” until the pair of them fell to the floor giggling like children.

They kissed and laughed until they couldn’t breathe.

Steve already had a suit, he really hadn’t grown that much since the funeral and just needed a nice cummerbund to make it school dance worthy. So he didn’t go with the Hellfire boys to get their tuxes.

Jeff had gone for a blue suit jacket with black pants and bow tie with a white button up. Gareth went for a double breasted black jacket and bow tie with matching pants. Brian had picked up a white jacket and bolo tie with black pants.

Eddie though?

Eddie had gone for a thin black neck tie and tight dress pants and then was going to wear his leather jacket over the top.

****

It's that great and wonderful time of the week again! WIP Wednesday!

The game runs from 8am-11pm EST.

Send in as many asks as you want as often as you want.

@mira-jadeamethyst @zerokrox-blog @forgottenkanji @w1ll0wtr33 @thesecondfate

@acingthecounts @beelze-the-bubkiss @just-a-tiny-void @kultiras

Somehow I set this for the wrong day, so sorry it's late!

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #wip wednesday

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months

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Smell Check [Easy: Failure]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 1 (part 2 - part 3)

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #disco elysium #MDZS Disco Elysium AU #So sad I didn't manage to get this comic out on the 15th (pd-mdzs's 8 month anniversary and DE's 4th year anniversary) but I'm here *now*#I have a very extensive and detailed MDZS Disco Elysium AU that I am Not Normal About.#I've seen a few other people point out the potential in a crossover (true) but they make the mistake in having it be set in 51!#A true crossover would take place closer to The Antecentennial Revolution!#Disco Elysium did not go that hard on its cool lore for people to only make surface level crossovers!!!#One day I'll write the fic or post my notes. I don't know who would read it but it tickles *my* brain and that's enough.#No spoilers for DE (here or in comments (please)) but please consider....Magpie Wei Wuxian B*) On his way to be an innocent.#I do think there is a good chance a chunk of the MDZS readership would enjoy DE but...it's also not a game I easily recommend #It's more of an experience you have to marinate over. It's dark in ways that are off putting to some people.#It makes you feel like a very bad person all the time. It gets extremely personal if you allow yourself to be honest in your answers #and it's also the game that saved my life. My life was truly forever changed after playing disco elysium.#If I recommend it to people it's a badge of the trust I have in you to appreciate something dear to me B'*)#If you decide to play: PLEASE go in as blind as possible. You will regret spoiling yourself.#edit: this is based on real disco elysium dialogue. HDB has many canon kinks but this is not one of them

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sparrow-in-the-field · 1 year

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I just like to think about how once they're officially dating, Keeley sets up a group chat with the three of them, and like 96% of it is just her and Jamie texting with the other 4% being Roy's 1-2 word replies or thumbs up emojis (basically just agreeing to date night plans or assuring them he's still alive).

And then one time out of the blue Roy sends a selfie. Jamie and Keeley collectively lose their shit.

#roy x jamie x keeley #roy jamie keeley #ted lasso #ted lasso ot3 #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #jamie and keeley love their grumpy old man boyfriend #one day I'll have enough time to write the already thousand fic ideas i have for them #but for now this will have to do

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lennsart · 5 months

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Most of the wips I write these days can be summarized by "Legend gets hurt in fucked-up ways, and then he gets hugs" :)

(I'm fine shhh)

But I had this sitting in my drafts, and it's like the comfort part to a hurt/comfort, except I didn't like the hurt part, so posting this probably doesn't make sense, but.. I just wanted the boys to hug

Context + snippet under the cut !

Basically, Legend has been abducted for ransom (I think it was inspired by a whumptober prompt) and he didn't have a stellar time there. The rest of the chain rescues him, but they're worried he'll wake up confused at night, so they decide to watch over him. And they're supposed to take turn, but they all kinda end up sleeping next to him :)

Have this little Four POV that I quite like and feels like it can be posted without context :

Four expected to see two people in the room. One awake, that he would be about to replace, and the other asleep, that he would watch.

He hadn't expected three sleeping dudes.

He had to pause and go back to the hallway to laugh, muffling his chuckles in his sleeve. Of course Sky would have wanted to hug Legend and would have fallen asleep. Of course Hyrule would have let them, and promptly fallen asleep as well.

When he came back in and carefully closed behind him, he noticed with fondness that Legend, at least, looked perfectly content. He was sleeping on his back, Sky hugging his right arm, and he held Hyrule's hand with his left.

The traveler was mostly on the ground, head and arms on the mattress. Four winced ; that couldn't be comfortable.

Alright, he gave up (as if he hadn't as soon as he noticed them). He'd watch them three sleep, if only to gush about how cute they were tomorrow.

(He hoped Wind would bring his pictobox for his turn of watch in the morning.)

He got on Hyrule's side, and gently nudged him. This one hummed sleepily.

" - Shh, don't wake them up. " Four whispered. " Hop in.

- What...? " the traveler asked in confusion.

Four bit back a laugh at how asleep he sounded.

" - Get in the bed. " he ordered.

Hyrule may not really understand what was happening, but he didn't need to be told twice. He climbed in, wincing when he moved his legs, and abandoned Legend's hand to hug his waist, resting his head on his stomach.

The veteran softly hummed, but didn't fully wake up.

Four sat on one of the scarce empty spots of the bed, giggling to himself. He was happy that this watch had taken such a sweet turn ; he had expected to get lost in his own mind, trying to understand how they could have let one member of their group go through that.

...

Instead, he had three sleepyheads cuddling, and he would trade for nothing in the world.

The last free spot on the mattress, above Hyrule and next to Lege, was probably too small for someone to sleep there.

...Well. He was small too, and mostly slept curled up anyway.

But, no ! He had decided he'd stay awake. No matter how comfortable those three looked, no matter how much he'd like to hug the vet, too, he would fulfill his mission.

Legend's hand opened and closed in his sleep, and he extended it further. Four blinked, and reached with his left hand.

In a second, he was trapped, Legend satisfied with the hand he found and holding tight onto it.

...

Alright, that wouldn't be comfortable to stay sitting in this condition. Plus Legend looked like he wanted the smith to stay, and his goal had always been to watch for him, right ?

He curled up in the little free spot, his hand still in Legend’s, and definitely did not fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

#The colors were not coloring but the black and white is A Look #I also gave them pajamas. I'm not sure if they'd have those but. Hey. Komfy #linked universe #lu legend #lu four #lu sky #lu hyrule #my art #If you tag as ships I'll spray you with water. Please let the boys be cuddly platonically they need it #writing snippet #One day I'll post my writing without getting anxious. In the meantime. Art and snippet #Hopefully the mermaid curse fic will fix me (I'll try to start posting it this february :0)

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mothswitheyes · 3 months

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I think Riz can actually use magic and the magical gear is all bells and whistles. In a party of so many casters, literally ALL of them have magic now, I think he feels a lot more disconnected from the 'magic' then the rest of them, where it feels very connected to things like faith and art and being the oracle.

Magic is just something he does, he uses, like he uses his sword and his gun and his hands, it's a tool, it's a method to getting a job done, but thinking "I can spellcast" while everyone has this Big Reason for being able to do it is difficult, illogical, so it's easier to conceptualize it as ACTUALLY a tool, a bracer and a necktie and glasses and beaded bracelets, and not just verbal, somatic, material.

When he casts compelled duel on Kalina, he explicitly uses Nothing to do it, he says he calls upon his connection to Kalina since his birth but that still inherently is magic, he casts a magic spell with nothing but pure will, and it works! There is never a question about it working! Both because the items are inherently flavoring, they don't, on paper, actually exist, and because Riz has magic.

I don't think this is something that'd ever really come up or be canonized, as it just seems to be an off-topic thing for Riz's arc right now, but I think the idea adds to Riz's personality, and it the natural, funny conclusion to "I HAVE to wear it, it's just so practical."

#my textposts #riz gukgak #meta #fhjy #I think riz and gorgug would have a lot more connection talking about spellcasting then the other bad kids #but neither would rlly think to have the conversation #I also don't really think he'd KNOW he can spellcast without his items #he weaned himself off using them and never realized he just learnt the spell #idk maybe i'll write a fic about it one day

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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welcome to eden

this is a love letter. inspired by this song

As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.

“Rob?”

“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should.

“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”

He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—

“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”

“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”

She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”

Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”

“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”

“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up.

She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better.

Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door.

She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet.

“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him.

Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time.

Just rip the bandaid off, Nance.

“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”

“I can do that.”

The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window.

They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows.

She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—

“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”

“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out.

“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”

“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”

She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“

“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”

She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”

“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“

“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”

That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”

She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that.

“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”

He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”

“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”

“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet.

“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”

“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”

She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”

“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him.

They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer.

“What do you mean?”

“What happens with us now?”

“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”

Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they.

“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”

It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that.

She just missed him.

“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”

She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.”

“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”

They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them.

Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”

“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched.

“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time.

She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

She shakes his hand.

Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows.

Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later.

Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better.

She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way.

Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance.

Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out.

With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her.

He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”

Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”

She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place.

“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding.

Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him.

Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands.

“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”

“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”

“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”

“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”

His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“

“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”

“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”

“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”

“I will!”

“Fine!”

They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it.

She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes.

“Nancy, please.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers.

“It’s not…”

“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”

She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more.

“It’s not good enough.”

“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”

“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“

“Do you want fries?”

“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.

“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie.

“I usually just give up.”

“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again.

After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test.

Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing.

“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”

“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears.

It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P.

She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this.

She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true.

“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”

She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”

“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”

“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”

It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth.

“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”

It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore.

“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”

“Steve is your best friend.”

“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”

“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward.

“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”

She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before.

After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair.

Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor.

She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable.

She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”

The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.

In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.

This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?

She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes.

Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.”

She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”

“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes.

“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”

“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”

“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”

“I know all that.”

“Do you?”

He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged.

“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye.

So do her next five shots.

Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before.

She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”

He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings.

“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”

“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”

She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”

“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”

“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier.

“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”

It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch.

The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there.

She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then.

She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy.

“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”

Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”

“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”

Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.

She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it.

What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?

She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?

Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out.

She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her.

Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense.

They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days.

When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”

It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes.

Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.

He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time.

“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”

“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”

“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”

So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out.

But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there.

“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying.

“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”

She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed.

“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.

She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…

Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth.

(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)

It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place.

She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died.

She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders.

She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.

“Barb was my first kiss.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”

She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back.

“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“

“Nancy…”

“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”

“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“

“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“

“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“

“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”

Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past.

“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“

“Fuck that.”

“Robin…”

“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”

“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.

“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”

“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”

Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-

“What was he doing?”

“What?”

“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”

It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.

“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”

“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”

“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”

“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore.

“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”

She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless.

There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself.

“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”

Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before.

“I want this,” she insists.

“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”

“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”

Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.

“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”

“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”

“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”

“There are male ladybugs.”

“Wait, seriously?”

She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”

“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax.

“I’d vote for you.”

She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”

“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side.

“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this.

“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them.

“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”

She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty.

She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming.

#welcome to eden au #stranger things fanfic #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #this is the biggest thing i've posted so far #i ran out of the little fics i'm gonna have to start figuring out how to format the big ones #there's background steve/eddie/jonathan bc this was originally a companion piece to a seperate fic about them #that was 22k before i lost interest #i'll post that one eventually #can you tell nancy is my favorite character. i love u miss survivors guilt <3 #sometimes i think about how nancy has no friends for p much three seasons after barb died and i get very upset #jonathan could count but he also wanted to date her so i'm not counting it #I JUST WANT HER TO HAVE FRIENDS #i also love nancy/eddie friendship they're both judgy bitches #so is steve frankly. nightmare trio #i'm gonna write that ot3 one day (don't hold me to that)

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 4 months

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Dangerously close to plotting a real Skyrim/Lord of the Rings crossover for after Keeping Count because my secret desire for Leara/Glorfindel has reared its head again

Shhh Don't question it.

#look look now i must explain #the explanation is that leara simply works well with literally every male character I like at least for the most part #anyway #it'd be funny #i wish i could write a leara/astarion fic but i do NOT understand d&d at all alas #I understand lotr/silm on a crazy level so i guess sunshine hero elf it is #this is fine actually #actually what i really need to do is edit and finish my funny Skyrim/hobbit crack fic but that's a ten year old project #no really #I do NOT KNOW i am just having thoughts and i'm sharing them on my blog because it's mine and I can #also i was in the glorfindel/ofc tag on ao3 like five minutes ago and it looks empty and sad #so Leara can fix it #one day there will be more leara ships than there are for hermione granger jk maybe #i should make a list #I am talking out of my hair it is unlikely that i'll ever do anything the fact that keeping count even exists is a bloody miracle #mod post #oc: leara roseblade

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cuubism · 1 year

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It’s 3pm on a rainy Wednesday, and Hob is sleepily grading student papers, when Death of the Endless appears in his flat, lies quietly down on the couch, and rests her head in his lap.

Hob stares down at her for a long moment, hands aloft in indecision, because this is not... something they do. By now he can say he calls Death a friend, and they get drinks together sometimes and chat, but this...

“Everything alright, love?” he asks, finally resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t mean to disturb your peace,” Death says quietly. The TV Hob’s left on as background noise—some silly cooking show—nearly drowns out her voice entirely.

“Nothing peaceful about trying to find nice ways to tell my students they can’t write for shit,” Hob says, pushing his papers away. He can’t see Death’s face well like this, but he doesn’t like the uneven sound of her voice, not when she’s usually so level. “Disturb away.”

After a long moment in which they both just listen to the TV program host blather on about crumpets, Death says, “I am not affected by deaths.”

“…Alright,” Hob says, though he’s not convinced.

“I am…” Death continues, but trails off on a breath like a whistle of cold wind. “May I... stay here awhile?”

“‘Course.” Hob carefully pets at her head, strokes her hair. Worry is building, but he doesn’t think Death needs him to pull her words out of her the way he sometimes has to with Dream. She will speak when she’s ready. “Do you want to hear some truly fascinating attempts at historical analysis? Or is peace and quiet what you’re looking for?”

“You can speak if you wish,” Death says, still in that quiet tone.

So Hob tells her about some of his students, the ones who truly seem to have some promise in the field, and the others who he’s pretty sure are just mangling their papers together from sentences out of one of those AI things, if the originality is anything to go by. It’s disappointing but does make for humorous reading. Though really, Hob’s not sure whether to laugh or despair when he has to read lines like War has negative effects on people in an actual university academic paper. Wow, you don’t say.

He does manage to get a few chuckles out of his friend, but none with her usual humor and enthusiasm, and eventually he trails off, and they listen quietly to the background noise of the TV.

“Is there anything I can do?” Hob asks quietly.

“Can you control the future, Hob?” Death asks, a rhetorical question without any of her usual lightheartedness.

“Can’t even control the present,” Hob says. He just keeps his hands on her, one on her shoulder, one on the top of her head. Grounding, he hopes. And he thinks on what she’d said.

Hob knows that Destiny is the only Endless that operates in the future, but he has wondered, now that he understands them a bit better, if Death may not have a foot in that direction as well. She must know, some way, how to be where she must when she must.

Death has never seemed overly burdened by the past, even though history is a tower of bones a hundred miles high. Hob had asked, once — do all those terrible things ever bother you? you were there for them all —and all she had said was, “It has already happened,” with neither pleasure nor pain, just acceptance.

The future is another matter entirely.

“Is something going to happen?” he asks.

“I will not burden you with knowledge that is not yours to carry,” Death says.

So, that’s a yes.

“Maybe I could do something about it,” Hob suggests, though he suspects where that query will lead.

“You could not.”

“What about you, then?”

“That is not my place,” she says, though she sounds less certain about it than she usually is when discussing her function.

“You sure?” Hob asks.

“Were I to change fates for some, what excuse would I have for not doing so for all? Unfair things happen hourly, and always will. If I upend the balance, there is no telling how things would tip out of control down the road.”

It must be hard, Hob thinks, to be so powerful and yet so powerless.

“You did spare me,” he points out.

Death huffs, almost a laugh. “In truth, I shouldn’t have done that. Although I suspect Destiny had it written in his book for other purposes entirely.”

Huh. Well, that’s probably something Hob shouldn’t think on too hard for the sake of his own sanity.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about it,” Hob says, and Death chuckles.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks, when they’ve been sitting for another few minutes in silence.

“I… do not have many friends,” Death says. Common family trait, then, Hob thinks. Not that it’s really so surprising. Death is very personable, but most of her interactions with people are, well… fleeting. And it can’t be easy to make normal friends, when you’re as expansive a being as one of the Endless.

“Stay for a while then,” Hob says. He pulls a blanket over her and tucks it around her shoulders. “Until you have to go.”

“Thank you, Hob,” says Death, still sounding incredibly weighed down by her function, but given a slight reprieve, perhaps.

Hob rubs her shoulder and thinks about these endless creatures he’s chosen to love. Do they have anyone else to worry about them? He doesn’t think so. It’s just Hob, and he doesn’t think that’s anywhere close to enough, but he’ll just have to do his best.

“Any time, love,” he tells her, and means it.

#hob death friendship my beloved #couple days later hob's got /two/ endless sitting depressed on his couch cuz lbr whatever unspecified mass casualty event happens is going #to fuck up death and dream both #rip #hob gadling #death of the endless #deathling #i mean it's not intended as shippy but that's my tag for the two of them right now #my writing #FINALLY one ongoing wip finished. thank you nano. it's a short one but still #sandman fic #just post the most random ficlet and then go back to work XD #me: i won't post anything during nano i'll just focus on writing. also me:

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diyakkul · 5 months

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How You Get The Girl🎧 ༘♡ A Lo'reya spin-off from HYGTB

to his disdain, Ao'nung finds out his beloved, beautiful, and innocent little sister Tsireya has been dating his disgusting, arrogant, teammate but rival Lo'ak. But how did it happen? | A behind-the-scenes thread.

♡ how they met.

Tsireya had always loved jogging early in the morning— it had been difficult not to pick up at least one of Ao'nung's obsessed jock routines growing up. In her first days as a freshman, she quickly mapped out a 30-minute route to follow every morning: from her dorm, she'd go down the serene streets, past the hockey arena, and head toward the cute coffee place her roommate had recommended before going back.

On her official third consecutive morning, however, she realized she wasn't alone. A tall, fairly tanned boy, braids always tied in a low ponytail and eyes so warm and sharp they could cut anyone with a glance, routinely stepped out from the athletes' residence hall just as she ran past the building. He'd adjust the headphones over his head before sprinting past her. Tsireya never had enough time to study his traits thoroughly before he'd start jogging, so she quickly made do with the idea that he'd simply be some attractive dude from the athletes' residence hall she'd see once every day.

One day, however, as she jogged back, she found her morning-attractive guy in the middle of the walkway, standing under a tree, his chin tilted up to the sky as he psst at tree branches. Curious, she stopped right behind him, and following his gaze, she found a cat huddled between the leaves.

"It'll never come down on its own," Tsireya muttered, catching off guard the boy. She had to fight internal demons not to apologize to him in a rush, suddenly flustered because A, his pretty eyes met hers, B, he was hot— like reallyreallyreally hot.

"Care to help me, then?" Even his voice was hot, not hoarse and low like Ao'nung's but sweet-hot.

A nod and they jumped straight to work. The boy locked his fingers together, squatting, and Tsireya carefully placed her foot on them. She held onto his sweat-damped shoulders, and after a mumbled countdown, he pushed her up and she successfully lured the cat into her arms. Once back on the ground, Tsireya dared to nuzzle her nose against its seemingly clean head before letting it go, and when she looked up, the boy was staring at her with a glint in his eyes.

"I know you," he suddenly said, a handsome grin parting his lips. "Tsireya Niìr, am I right?"

"Yes.." She felt her breath hitching. "How do you..?"

"I know your brother," he promptly answered, hands falling on his hips. "I'm on the hockey team. And you know my brother, actually."

Tsireya pursed her lips as her big, green blue eyes danced over his dawn-kissed face. His traits were kinda familiar, she definitely had seen that cute nose somewhere—

"Are you Neteyam's brother?!" She gasped, half content half surprised.

Neteyam Sully was her radio station co-host and the current main topic between her and an infatuated Ao'nung.

"It's me," he beamed. "Lo'ak, nice to meet you." He stretched a hand, politely, and she grabbed it, enjoying its warmth.

"Do you.." oh God, what was she gonna say? "Do you wanna grab breakfast together?"

Her heart throbbed, cheeks reddening in a second, then it ran as Lo'ak's smile widened even more.

"Sure."

In the following days, she couldn't help but bring up their encounter with both brothers.

"I met your brother, you know?" She shyly initiated as soon as Neteyam let another song play, both propping their headphones on the table.

"Yeah?" Neteyam flashed one of his pretty smirks, and Tsireya perfectly understood why Ao'nung was so crazy about him.

She hummed, "He's.. cute."

"Want me to give him your number?"

"What?" She gasped loudly, nervously fidgeting with the wire of the headset. "Would you really..?"

(..) "He's.. cute," she found herself parroting as she told the same thing to Ao'nung and Rotxo.

"Don't you even think about getting close to him, Tsireya," Ao'nung warned, pointing a finger at her while munching his lunch. "He's trouble."

"He seemed nice," she mumbled.

"He is," Rotxo nodded, not tearing his gaze away from his phone.

"He's not," Ao'nung's eyes pierced hers. "Stay away. He's not good for you."

♡ Trouble Lover: how it started.

Half through the second semester, Tsireya found herself madly attracted by Lo'ak, who slowly began to appear everywhere she was and not hide her reciprocated feelings. She knew he liked her, and he knew she liked him, too. Neteyam knew, Rotxo also did, luckily Ao'nung was too focused on trying to sleep with Neteyam to even realize what was going on between his sister and his 'enemy'. So what was keeping them back from being with each other? She didn't know. And she was slowly losing her patience.

"You're so dumb," Tsireya hiccuped to his shoulder.

They had sneaked out from a party to grab a late-night snack (that became an oily hamburger) in the middle of the night, and they were now sitting on the edge of a sidewalk. Tsireya snuggled into Lo'ak's embrace even though the air was too warm to be hugging. But Lo'ak wasn't complaining, and Tsireya was too drunk to realize.

"Bought you the tastiest chicken burger and you call me dumb?" Lo'ak gasped before dipping two potato fries into his sweet curry sauce. "Rude!"

"Yes!" She whined before giving a big bite to her snack. "Cusyouwobkidme."

"What?" He chuckled, going for a bite, too. She let him.

"You.." Tsireya lazily dragged her eyes on him. "Won't. Kiss me."

Silence fell as Lo'ak eyed her under his hooded eyelids. A flame trembled inside those golden eyes, hot and wild. His stare fell on her lips before he could bring it up, back to her doe eyes, just staring right at her like he would always do, freeing thousands of butterflies in her stomach. Before she could know, she was tearing up.

"Am I not pretty enough?"

Lo'ak's eyes widened as if she had just said the dirtiest blasphemy, "Don't you even dare say that!"

She sobbed, taking another bite, sauce staining her lips as she munched. He quickly brought a hand to her cheeks and wiped the sauce away with his thumb, eyes locked.

"First of all, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen," he confessed to the night, stroking her cheek. "And you don't need me to tell it to you. You're clever enough to know that, don't you? That you're the prettiest Metkayina princess."

She nodded and he laughed.

"Has Neteyam ever told you how I call you when I talk to him about you?" His eyes sparkled under the streetlight.

Tsireya shook her head, cheeks full of food.

"Mi hermosa," Lo'ak breathed against her ear.

Tsireya could faintly remember her Spanish class in high school and she shyly chuckled at the name, unable to control her blushing.

"Tan hermosa," he kissed her temple, softly nuzzling. "Wanted you to be mine as soon as I saw you cuddling that little kitty, so beautiful."

"I was sweaty," she grumbled.

"I didn't care," Lo'ak whispered. "And I really want to kiss you, always wanted to, I like you so much but I'm afraid I'll ruin everything and ruin our friendship."

"But I don't want to be your friend," Tsireya pouted. "I want you to be my boyfriend. Boy-friend. Boooyyfrieeeend. Novio!"

"Whoa," he breathed, something about his voice trembling with amusement. "We have a long way before I can be your novio, you know?"

"Let's start with a kiss, then," and she leaned closer, the burger almost slipping from her fingers.

But Lo'ak laughed and jerked his head away, "I'll kiss you when you're sober, after asking you, as we're on a pretty date."

"Ow," Tsireya sighed, leaning her head against his chest again. "I like you."

A waterfall of kisses fell on top of her curls before she could slightly bend her neck and Lo'ak's soft lips smooched her cheek until she burst into giggles, telling him to stop.

♡ the aftermath.

Lo'ak always sends flying kisses to Tsireya whenever he scores;

Tsireya is the first ever girl Lo'ak introduced to his parents— Neteyam did half the job for his younger brother since Jake and Neytiri always sit behind him and Tsireya at the arena;

They once argued because Lo'ak thought it was unfair she could wear all his sweatshirts but he had nothing of her, so he 'stole' her hairband;

Tsireya shares her relationship details with Ao'nung even though he pretends he doesn't want to hear them since her boyfriend is Lo'ak;

Tsireya was the one telling Lo'ak Ao'nung has a crush on Neteyam— he almost had a mental breakdown;

They always hang out in Lo'ak's room after games and have cute movie nights or 'skincare sessions'— Lo'ak has more products than Tsireya;

During summer break, they both lied to their families and spent a whole week together in California;

They have one of those apps for couples on their phone in which they send each other silly doodles between classes and errands when they are apart;

Lo'ak's phone screensaver is a picture of baby Tsireya dressed in a Stitch onesie;

They still go on their early morning jogs together and have breakfast in the same coffee place.

#one day I'll write a full loreya fanfic I love them so much #avatar fanfiction #human au #avatar the way of water #avatar #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #tsireya #lo'ak x tsireya #loreya #hockey au #mentioned aonunete #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #personal headcanon #my fic #alternate universe #fluff #neteyam and lo'ak are latinos #diyakkul

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