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elronds-meleth-nin · 11 months ago

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Ancient Script

This is for my dear friend @bigblissandlove1! Thank you so much for putting up with me screaming about this brainrot! I hope you enjoy this fic, my friend.

I'm not tagging anyone else in this, because the taglist I set up was for a whole other fic outside of RoP. If anyone wants to be tagged in future fics from The Hobbit, LotR, or RoP, please let me know! This is an AU fic in 2 regards: 1.) Soulmate AU 2.) it's set in the early Third Age - Adar is presumed dead by Sauron who has taken control of the Uruks, and he's biding his time in a small village while he concocts a plan.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff with a couple of mentions of violence, but nothing graphic.]

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Uruk/Human romance, kissing, soulmarks are your soulmate's name in their handwriting, he falls first, he kills a man to protect her but it's not graphic.

~*~

The shop selling arms and armor had been around in our village longer than I'd been alive, and certainly longer than the seven years I'd lived there. The shop owner, a rather private Ellon, wasn't exactly outgoing, at least, not to most people in the village.

But me...he would actively ask how I was when I passed each morning on my delivery route from the baker's shop. Perhaps it was because the scent of freshly baked bread was irresistible. Or maybe his lack of conversation with the others had made him lonely and desperate enough to try and interact with the one person who had never been rude to him.

The others seemed to find it acceptable to be less courteous just because he was different. I never did, though. My parents had taught me to be kind to all, even before we'd picked up and moved from the next village over for an opportunity for my father's business to grow.

So, every morning as I made deliveries up and down the main road, I eagerly looked forward to the moment when he'd open the door to his shop and allow me a brief conversation - that was more than most people got when they weren't discussing the particulars of a transaction with him.

This morning was only slightly different. Usually, I delivered to his end of the road first, but today I needed to make sure I ended there, instead. So, in reverse order, I made my way steadily toward his shop, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw his door open as usual when I was only a few steps away.

"There you are," he rasped as a small smile stretched his lips. "I had begun to wonder if you had forgotten me this morning."

"Oh, no! Never, sir," I said as I pulled his usual weekly order out of my basket, neatly wrapped in baker's cloth and tied with a little string. His fingertips brushed mine as he took it, and I let out a huff of nervous laughter. "Actually, I had a reason to save you for last, today. Assuming that your shop is already open, of course. If not, I can always come back later."

"For you, my door is always open, my lady," he said taking a step back and gesturing for me to come inside. I'd never actually been in his shop before.

"Thank you, sir," I murmured slipping in and trying to stay out of his way.

The scent of leather and metal, polish and grit permeated the air within the store, giving the whole place the feeling of an army at rest. Gleaming plate armor, razor-sharp swords, knives of nearly-infinite variety, and bows that looked lethal even at a glance were all neatly arranged on shelves and wall hooks.

I should've come here sooner.

"Now, what was so important that you felt you must rearrange your entire morning?" The Ellon asked as he laid the wrapped loaf of bread on the desk where he changed coin and made trades.

"Ah, 'tis twofold," I said as I opened my bag and pulled out my small, sheathed dagger. The shimmering blue stone laid into the hilt glinted as brightly in the morning light as it did the day my grandfather had given it to me. "The lower priority of the two would be my dagger. I lent it to one of my neighbors, and, well..."

Carefully unsheathing it, I showed him the now-split blade.

"If it is beyond repair, I certainly understand, but..." I shrugged, and he lifted the blade, inspecting its surface with his experienced eye.

"Not at all. This is easily fixed. I can have it for you by tomorrow morning," he murmured, laying it gently - almost reverently - on his desk and looking at me curiously. "And the second of your needs, my lady?"

Subconsciously, I ran my thumb over the cloth that covered my illegible soulmark. I knew whoever it was likely couldn't be entirely certain that I truly existed or, like me, could not read my name where it was inked upon their skin, but touching it even indirectly was still a comfort.

"I need to find a gift for my father. His birthday is in a fortnight, and I was wondering if, perhaps, I could examine your bows?"

He smiled at that.

"Certainly. Come with me." The Ellon led me to one of the large displays at the side, adjusting the sleeve of his tunic as he did so. When we reached the long line of curved and carved wood, I felt an answering touch through my soulmark - something so delicate that I could never be certain if I was just imagining things or if it was real. "If you already have a particular style in mind, then pay me no attention, but I must admit I am familiar with your father's current - let us say 'well-loved' - weapon. This, perhaps, might suit his needs and accommodate his firing style."

Lifting an intricately-carved bow from the rack, he strung it in one much-too-smooth movement that made my breath hitch. Clearly Elvish in design, that bow was finer than any that either my father or I owned.

"I know that you are an archer yourself, my lady. Come, feel the flex," he said moving around me and coaxing the carved grip into my hand. His chest pressed lightly against my back as I gave the string a pull mimicking aiming an arrow. His breath fanned lightly over my scalp, and when he spoke again, I fought not to blush. "You have excellent form. Anyone who opposed you would be doomed from the beginning."

His voice was low and gentle...intimate, in a way. I tried not to think about how luxuriant it would be to hear that soft, raspy voice murmur my name on a cold winter's night when we were curled up in front of a crackling fire.

A familiar shard of guilt wound through me. What would my soulmate, whoever they were, think of me fantasizing about someone else?

Slowly releasing the bowstring, I tried to tamp down my thoughts.

"This will be perfect." Thankfully, my voice betrayed none of my internal conflict, and I was gifted a small, pleased smile as he led me back to his desk. I'd never seen him smile at anyone else. Solemn yet polite, the Ellon before me seemed rather detached from everything in the village save his work, as if he was waiting for something...as if we were a mere respite from a path he must sooner or later traverse.

Fifty years was a long time to wait, but to him, I supposed, it must be a mere blink. Lives like those around him in the village must be barely worthy of his attention.

I'd be forgotten as quickly as wind whispered through the trees.

What must it be like to be significant enough to warrant even half that recognition in the eyes of one as long-lived as he? I heard my father and one of his business associates discussing the topic over mugs of ale one night in the tavern. Each believed he was several hundreds of years old. My father with all his knowledge of Elves had mused aloud after his friend left that he would not be surprised to find that our resident Ellon merchant had accrued over a thousand years of life.

"Scars like that," he'd said, "are the kind one gets in great wars. The last of which was a very long time ago, indeed."

I was inclined to agree, but where others saw a fearsome, intimidating being not to be approached unless necessity demanded it, I'd found a kindred spirit. He might not be outgoing and overly cheerful, but he was kind. His strength was beyond that of a mortal's, yet he could hold freshly-baked bread so gently that his fingers left no impression.

Even as he wrapped my father's new bow, including a few extra neatly-coiled bowstrings, I couldn't help but wonder how many people had judged him so harshly over the years? How many had feared him so severely that nobody even knew his name? It was true that I knew it not, but that came rather from a sense of embarrassment than fear. After all, what is a tactful way of asking a person's name after years of trying to be respectful without prying into his business? Admitting that nobody in the village knew it would only emphasize how different he was...how lonesome and separate he appeared compared to everyone else.

Oh, damn my fears! I was going to ask him, even if it took all my courage. He deserved to be called by his name as was respectful. For the moment, though, I drew my attention back to the present.

"What do I owe you, sir?" I asked as I reached in my satchel for my little drawstring bag of coins. I'd saved up for long weeks. A quality bow like the one he'd shown me could easily cost fifteen gold pieces. Taking on extra work and small tasks outside of the bakery, I'd managed to save seventeen gold pieces and a few silvers - enough for the bow and repairs for my dagger.

As he tied the wrapping with thick twine, he glanced up at me and, with an entirely straight face, muttered "three gold pieces."

I froze. That couldn't be correct!

"Forgive me, sir, I...I believe I misheard you–" I stammered, but he cut me off.

"No, indeed, my lady. You heard correctly." He looked as serene as the morning dew, green eyes giving away nothing.

"B-But, sir, if I paid such a low price, that would be tantamount to theft! I could not possibly abuse you so!"

He lifted an eyebrow at my assertion.

"Have you, or have you not been instructing the baker to take half of the price of my regular order of bread out of your wages for the last seven years, my lady?"

I blinked, and words failed me for a long beat.

"How did you...?" He gave me a knowing look even as my tongue trailed uselessly off into silence.

"Did you think I would not notice that the price I'd been paying for years was cut in half after a mere week of your employment?"

As a matter of fact, I'd hoped he would assume it was a mere coincidence.

"I have been, but–"

"Then, my lady, please allow me this small liberty," he said walking around his desk to stand before me. "You surely have paid for this bow several times over by now."

My cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze, but I persisted.

"I did not do so with the expectation of repayment–"

"Very well, then," he murmured, "two gold pieces."

My lips parted in surprise.

"Sir–" Silencing me with a raised hand, he smirked.

"The more you argue, the lower my price. I believe we are currently at one gold piece. Shall we descend into silvers?" Mischief danced in his eyes, but he was serious in his assertion.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked before I could think better of it.

"Because it pleases me," he said looking at me with a steady, constant expression. "Does one need a reason to be kind?"

I felt as though I'd been struck. I'd asked him the same question less than a month after beginning my job with the baker. He'd remembered! I'd thought it was a trivial sort of question at the time, but I suppose if he'd remembered it, I must've struck a chord within him.

"But I don't even know your name," I stammered in a last ditch effort to convince him I wasn't worth his losing so much money.

"Do you think I am unaware of that fact? I have not told it to anyone in decades. None here know it, yet you are the only one who cares that you do not know." He brushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear with the sort of delicacy that one would not expect a weapons merchant to possess. "You see me. That is why it pleases me to make this easier for you."

It took every ounce of self-control within me not to tilt my head and lean into his touch. His gaze dropped to my lips, and he licked his own - a barely-there flick of his tongue that I would've missed had I blinked but an instant earlier.

"If...you still wish to know my name when you retrieve your dagger in the morning, I shall tell it to you, my lady," he murmured even quieter than before.

"Surely you will allow me to pay the correct price for that, sir?" I asked, and a measure of mirth flickered across his expression as he lowered his hand.

"The correct price for you, my lady, would be absolutely nothing. In that regard, yes, I will be charging you the correct price," he stated in a tone that brooked no argument. "I look forward to seeing you come the morn. You may wish to take your father's gift home before he returns so that it might remain a secret."

Nodding silently, I laid three gold pieces on the desk and picked up the wrapped package. Thanking him, I made for the door, hoping that he would not notice the extra coins - surely he knew I couldn't allow him to undercharge me so severely? Before I'd made it more than two steps, however, one of his arms slid around my waist, stopping me in my tracks like a bar of steel.

"Not so fast, meleth," he breathed against the shell of my ear, and I heard the clinking of two coins as they dropped back into my bag. "A valiant attempt, I must admit. I shall see you on the morrow."

Throughout the long walk home, I could not rid myself of the sensation of his lips brushing against my ear nor his breath slightly stirring the hair upon my scalp. The ghostly memory of his arm catching my waist stayed with me until I fell asleep at nearly midnight.

Adar could remember the day her name appeared on his arm more clearly than almost any other - a feat for a being with many thousands of years under his belt. He'd been preparing to open his shop for the day when pain lanced across the inside of his forearm. His scars ached occasionally, but this pain was so sharp and different that he'd nearly dropped the newly-forged sword he was preparing to put on display.

Tugging his sleeve back, there it was: her name written in curling, shaky, yet careful font - the way her handwriting would look. He'd been so amazed that he had been given a soulmate after so long that he'd simply dropped onto a stool and stared at his arm for a time. Before her name appeared, he hadn't even been certain that his heavily scarred skin would allow him to see a name should one choose to appear, but now that he had his answer, he faced a new problem.

Should his soulmate have to face the burden of his existence when he was so twisted and broken? Morgoth's scars marred nearly every inch of his body, his face inspired fear in everyone he encountered, and he'd even failed his children. They'd fallen under Sauron's control again, and as they believed him dead, there was no chance they'd listen to him. They'd sooner believe he was a fraud than their father.

For several years, he'd covered the mark, barely daring to check if it was still there when he washed himself. Eventually though, as the years passed, he noticed that his soulmate would touch her own mark almost compulsively. Perhaps she was nervous and simply attempting to calm herself...

The first few times it happened, he ignored it, believing the gentle touch to be no more than a figment of his imagination, but after a while, he ached with the thought that she might believe that she was not wanted. He began following her caresses with a gentle one of his own. He hoped that it was enough that she would not give in to that fear.

Her existence was a miracle to him, even if she could not read his name. He knew she would be unable to, for the language to which he was accustomed had not been written in many thousands of years.

The day he first saw her, too, was vividly embedded in his mind.

A knock had sounded at the door to his shop. He'd ignored it the first time. The baker's delivery boy - unreliable as he was - typically knocked, leaving his wrapped bread upon the doorstep before scurrying away from his threshold as if it was diseased. Adar assumed that it was he who knocked that morning, so he went on as usual. After a few seconds, however, a second knock sounded, accompanied by a feminine voice.

"Delivery from the baker," came the call though the wooden door. Adar had been so surprised that he laid aside his work and opened the door without any further hesitation.

She was beautiful. The early morning sun illuminated her kind, smiling face in a manner befitting one of the Valar. Expecting her to flee upon her first glance at his face, the Uruk was stunned when her nervous smile widened a fraction.

"Good morning, sir," she chirped happily as she pulled his wrapped loaf of bread from her little basket. "I kept everything well-covered, so it should still be warm from the oven."

Accepting the bundle from her with a quiet, stunned rasp of 'thank you, my lady,' Adar couldn't help but watch as she gave a little curtsy and headed on toward the next shop. The cool, gentle breeze had teased her hair and skirt, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his softest blanket so that she would not feel the chill.

One as radiant and lovely as she did not deserve to live in anything less than the most luxurious sort of comfort. His heart had not stirred like that in...he could not remember the last time it had.

He'd heard someone call her name that afternoon - the same name that was etched indelibly on his forearm - and that had startled him more than anything ever had before. This warm ray of light was his soulmate? What had he done to deserve her? He, who was cracked and broken, scarred and burned...none could ever be worthy of her, most especially not him.

A servant of darkness, one marred and twisted by its shadows, should have nothing to do with such a being of light and joy.

Merely a week later, he'd placed his usual order with the baker, and he'd been asked for half of what he usually owed. At his own prodding confusion, the rotund little Man behind the counter had told him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that someone thought kindly of him. It was not difficult to guess who it was. With all of her smiles and kind words, her unfailingly cheerful greetings whenever she saw him, Adar knew at once that it was her.

She tried to keep it secret, never once bringing up the topic, but he tried to repay her kindness with conversation. He'd been rusty, at first - he still was - but he didn't know how else to show her his gratitude.

Then, one day, he was afforded an opportunity to do so. Traders came through periodically, both seeking and offering wares. Most were well-behaved, exhausted people who wanted no more than to earn a living, but occasionally, there was an outlier among them. A trouble-maker.

One such passed through barely a year hence, and Adar had not liked the way his gaze lingered upon his lady as she made her morning rounds. He watched her too intently and for too long a duration for one with innocent thoughts in mind. No, the Uruk had seen too many over the years with such a glint in their dark, soulless eyes.

When she reached Adar's shop that morning, he'd glared at her evil shadow before gently grasping her hand and suggesting in a low voice that she keep her dagger handy until that particular caravan had left. She'd given him a reassuring smile and pulled the edge of her shawl back just far enough to show him the hilt where it was already strapped at her waist.

He'd never been so proud in all his life, but that didn't stop him from keeping a close eye on her for the rest of the day. None had noticed that his shop was closed with freshly-scattered alfirin seeds before it that afternoon, nor had the filth watching her seen that he was being followed by death's ruined right hand. The trader had followed her halfway back to her home and had begun to catch up with her when a flash of black and silver tugged him silently behind a tree.

The only sound that heralded the scum's death was a snap. She'd turned to look for what had made the noise, believing it to be a branch, and when she found nothing, she made her way safely home.

Her Uruk protector had disposed of the body beside a field where wild horses grazed, laying an empty bottle of spirits beside him. The next morning when the corpse was found, it was obvious to all that he'd gotten drunk, tried to ride one of the beasts, and had been thrown to his death. Adar guarded her door each night until the caravan left. The alfirin seeds had sprouted within mere days, and if any in the village had known their true meaning, the white blooms would have screamed his deed to the world.

But none were the wiser, and his lady was safe. That was all that mattered to him.

Fixing her dagger now was nothing less than a privilege. He'd told her it was easily repaired. In truth, it needed to be reforged. He'd shut his shop for the day and rolled up his sleeves to begin the work.

In the morning, after sharpening the blade's edge, he unlocked his shop door and awaited her arrival. He'd told her that she'd have his name today if she was still interested, but...he was tempted to give her more than that...to show her his mark. His self-indulgent moments when he showed her the bow and when he'd returned her coins had carved themselves upon his heart, stirring within him the desire to hold her again and never let go.

He'd been alone for so long that he now felt like a drowning man each time her eyes met his. She was so close, yet just out of reach. Could she see how much she meant to him? Could she tell that he would save, burn, or change the world entirely at her behest?

The door creaked inward, drawing him out of his thoughts. She was back. He stood straighter as she approached.

"Good morning, my lady." The tentative smile she gave him showed him all that he needed to know. It was time that he told her everything. If she rejected him, well...he'd come to expect pain. It would not surprise him, though, it would be worse than anything he'd yet experienced.

"Good morning," I murmured in return. My heart raced in my chest, and I hoped that my voice didn't sound as nervous as I felt. Smoothing my dress a bit further, I approached his desk. "I hope I haven't put you to any trouble."

"Not at all," he answered with a small smile as he lifted my dagger from his desk. "Come, let me show you what I have done."

I did as he asked, moving closer and paying entirely too much attention to the way his large hands dwarfed my little blade. He pulled it carefully from the sheath, showing me his handiwork. He'd polished it, too. The scent floated through the air in a familiar curl.

"Oh, it looks as good as new!" I exclaimed as he handed it carefully to me. The leather grip on the hilt had been replaced and even the balance had improved! "I cannot thank you enough, sir, truly."

"It was my honor, my lady," he said as I passed the blade back. He slid it neatly into its sheath. "Do be cautious. I gave it a quick pass over the whetstone this morning. 'Tis sharper than before."

"Are you sure you won't accept at least some sort of payment?" I asked, and he gave me a mock-stern look. I raised my hands in surrender. "My apologies."

"Gladly accepted."

After a long pause, I finally asked what I'd wanted to.

"May I still ask your name, sir? If your mind has changed, or if you simply do not wish to reveal it, I swear I will not press you on the matter."

He was quiet for a long enough moment that I nearly began pouring forth apologies.

"You are the only one I have wished to tell," he admitted. "You may call me Adar."

Adar. I knew that word from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Thank you, Adar. I shan't tell a soul without your permission," I promised, and with an appreciative nod, he held out my sheathed dagger.

"Tell me," he rasped, not relinquishing his hold on my weapon quite yet, "why do you keep your forearm covered?"

I gave a nervous laugh, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

"I...My soulmark is there. I can't read it. Never have I encountered a language quite like it...whatever it might be."

He gave a small smile.

"I can read it." Adar's assertion snapped my gaze up to meet his once more.

"Sir?"

"If you would prefer that I not, that is entirely your prerogative, but I can almost guarantee you that I will be able to read it." When I hesitated, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Let me help you, my lady."

Quickly stowing my blade in my bag, I began to unwrap the fabric I kept tied over my arm. As I did so, the need to explain myself pulled a flood of words from me.

"I'm not ashamed of my soulmate, whoever they might be, but after a while, the looks I got when people glimpsed the writing...the pity, the confusion...the explanations became a bit tiresome. Besides, it is nobody's business save me and my soulmate," I murmured as the last bit of the cloth came free and fell away revealing the stark, black marks on my arm. Adar moved just a bit closer, a small smile stretching his lips as he caught my arm gently in his grasp. "Can...? Do you recognize it?"

For a moment, he was silent, only nodding his head in response, but that was enough to send my heart racing in my chest. That was more than anyone had told me about my mark in all my years.

"I have not seen this language written in an Age," he breathed, and after a long moment, his eyes met mine. "I am certain that if you knew the answer, you would regret inquiring about your soulmate's identity."

I couldn't hide my confusion.

"What do you mean? No matter who they are, if the marks are any indication, I can handle it. I have never known them to be wrong," I said, and he looked back down at my arm. "Please. You are the only hope I have of ever being able to read it."

His grip on my arm loosened somewhat, as if he was expecting me to tear myself from his grasp.

"I...have not used this name in thousands of years," he whispered tracing the first half of the dark runes, "but it was still mine. I prefer Adar, now, but...your mark seems to have taken that into account."

My lips parted in surprise, but I was frozen as he traced his fingertips lightly, carefully over the rest of the marks near my wrist.

"Just after that slight separation is the name you would now recognize as mine," he murmured, then he lifted my wrist and placed a kiss onto my mark, reverent and affectionate. The ancient writing tingled and sparked over and beneath my skin, sending a wave of pleasure through me.

He released my arm and tugged back his own sleeve, showing me my scrawled name on his scarred forearm. Carefully, afraid that he'd disappear, that this would turn out to have just been a dream, I touched him just as he'd done.

"For whole Ages, my arm was blank. There were others whose marks were slow to appear, but those whom I knew waited mere centuries. I was convinced that I was not destined for that fate," Adar admitted as I touched the first letter of my name. "I wondered...if I would even be able to read a name should it appear on my skin, or if it would appear as twisted as my scars."

As a tear slipped down my cheek, I kissed his arm as he'd done to mine. The slight gasp that escaped him was like ambrosia for my soul.

"I'm so sorry. You waited for so long, and all you got for your trouble was a mortal with terrible penmanship..." I trailed off with a sniffle, but he tilted my chin up with his free hand and shook his head.

"It is beautiful, because it is yours. It tethered me to you. This mark meant that I was no longer alone." His soft, rasping voice was filled with emotion. "Do not apologize for giving me hope when I'd dared not cling to it for such a long time. I should be begging your forgiveness, my lady. You do not deserve one as unworthy as I."

I shook my head in protest.

"Only I decide what I deserve. If anything, it is I who does not deserve you," I murmured. "You who have lived so many lives...having seen and experienced things I could scarcely imagine..."

I reached up slowly so that he could stop me if he wished, but he made no move to do so. My fingertips brushed his cheeks as lightly as was physically possible.

"I could want no other but you. I have felt guilt for so long. I could not read my mark, but I felt when my soulmate touched his. And yet, I knew that I had lost my heart to you the day we met." My confession felt like the sweetest relief. "If that name had belonged to any other, I would have been distraught."

Adar leaned into my touch, closing his eyes and drawing a slow breath. Twin tears escaped, dripping down his face in an asynchronous race.

"Now that I have you, I cannot give you back, meleth," he warned as he stepped closer and rested his forehead against mine.

"Then, keep me," I whispered, and his lips finally, finally met mine.

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Adar x Reader

341 notes · View notes

emeraldscript · 3 months ago

Text

alien max au part 6 incoming. max and daniel at the beach. what could go wrong?

(to catch up go here: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5)

"did you still want to go to the beach, maxy?" daniel says to max, looking over at him, buckling himself into the passenger seat.

max looks over at daniel, delighted at first until his face falls slightly.

"only if you want, daniel. it's okay if you want to go home. it was stressful for you here," max says.

"nah, let's go. it'll take my mind off things," daniel responds.

at that, max smiles one of his big, crinkly-eyed smiles at daniel. it's slowly becoming on of daniel's favourite things.

the journey to the beach isn't too far and max busies himself with inspecting their purchases, carefully unpacking the items and taking a closer look at what he bought.

"you reckon you'll be able to fix your phone with these?" daniel asks.

"it's not a phone daniel but hopefully, yes. i'm not 100% certain that the metal compounds are the exact same but they should work well enough for what i need it to do," max explains.

daniel pulls into the carpark by the beach and quickly reverses into one of the parking spaces.

"c'mon, let's go," he says to max, grabbing a big beach towel from the backseat.

they walk down the narrow path from the carpark through the dunes and the smell of sea air makes daniel slightly nostalgic. for his childhood spent dreaming about another life, a more exciting one. one he's had to leave behind now. he can practically feel his curls getting crispy from all the sand, salt water and sun. can hear his mother scold him for not re-applying his sunscreen enough.

"wow," he hears max say beside him, marvelling at the view.

the wonder doesn't last long. max takes off into a sprint straight into the waves, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. not even daniel's hat. he wades through the shallow water and once it's deep enough, throws himself into the waves. daniel hears a small happy hoot escape max before his head sinks down between the waves.

daniel smiles to himself and sets their towel down in a nice empty spot away from other visitors.

he sits down, enjoys the gentle breeze on his face, cooling his slightly overheating skin.

the beach is fairly empty, save a few families entertaining their kids. there's a young couple to daniel's right that are chasing each other with a string of sea grass. the guy eventually gives up and chases the girl empty-handed. she gives in at some point, chest heaving, letting herself be scooped up and carried bridal style into the waves. daniel smiles to himself.

he barely hears anyone approaching before max is stepping between his spread knees, soaking wet and dripping ocean water all over him. daniel looks up and sees max's smile brighten - just in time - before max starts shaking his entire body, splashing daniel. he reminds him of a puppy.

daniel starts shrieking, trying to worm away from under max but the other won't let him.

"max, no, max!" daniel yells, giggles wrecking his body.

before daniel knows what's happening, max's arms worm their way around his waist and hold tight. daniel half-heartedly tries to get max off him to no avail. somehow knocks max's hat off in the kerfuffle. he feels max's broad chest against his back. feels the water slowly seep from max's dripping wet shirt into daniel's.

he hears max's low giggles in his ear, feels them verberate against his neck. daniel feels max's grip tighten, fingers firmly digging into daniel's love handles

then, max pushes himself up from his deep squat, lifting them both upwards. daniel is howling max's name between heaving laughter.

"it's okay, daniel. you're safe with me," max says, trying to sound half serious and failing.

daniel laughs at that but can't find it in himself to disagree. he knows he is. finally upright, max only sways slightly, not helped by daniel's incessant kicking of legs.

"woah, hey, if you keep kicking i'll drop you into the water," max warns, slowly making his way towards the waves.

"you're going to do that either way, max," daniel says, still half-heartedly trying to escape max's clutches.

max only laughs at that, slowly stepping into the waves.

daniel's shrieking gets louder and louder and he feels max's chest expanding and shaking more rapidly against his back, too. max wades through the waves until he's thigh deep in the surf and daniel is engaging every core muscle he has to keep his feet dry and dangling just above the surface.

max is trying to gain some momentum to drop daniel in the ocean but daniel is having none of it, digging his fingers into max's arms, refusing to let go and dragging him down with him.

after a few more seconds, they both tumble into the waves, entangled.

the world stops spinning for a moment, complete silence enveloping daniel until he drifts towards the surface again. max's arms never leave his middle, holding on through it all.

when daniel comes up for air, he feels different. new. he can't explain it. not right then.

his eyes find max's. pupils shrunk to little slits in the blinding sun and endless blue sky reflecting on the water's surface. they look so fucking blue. and they're looking right back at daniel.

daniel feels something stir in his gut. that all too familiar feeling. the thrill of the chase, thrumming through his veins. feels his pulse kick up a notch.

without daniel's permission his eyes flick to max's lips again. plump and slick, sunlight reflecting off them. daniel reckons they would taste like sea salt right about now. it takes all his self-control to not confirm his hypothesis.

"daniel?" max asks, voice questioning, shattering the moment. breaking the spell and snapping daniel back to reality.

max is daniel's guest. stranded. at his mercy, in a way, with no way to navigate this world without daniel's help. daniel can't fuck this up cause he's horny. or lonely. or both.

max needs a friendly stranger, a helping hand. not some creep trying to get in his pants while he's fixing his only means of transport and ways of communication with his home planet.

"you happy now, maxy? my curls will be all messed up," daniel complains.

"very happy. your water is very refreshing. salty though," max says, illustrating his point by licking some water off his pointer finger.

right. fuck. so much for daniel's iron resolve.

daniel notices the webbing between max's fingers again. it looks more pronounced than he remembers. he takes one of max's hands and inspects it.

"why is it?" daniel starts, turning max's hand over in his hand.

"it gets like this when wet, to make swimming easier. some evolutionary thing that hasn't gone away just yet. it's pretty useful," max explains.

"can i?" daniel asks.

"hm," max responds.

so daniel runs his finger over the thin, almost translucent skin. it feels soft, just looks a bit freaky. but also kind of cool.

"damn, i basically have a merman living in my house," daniel says, letting go of max's hand.

"what's that?" max asks, ever curious.

"some mystical creature. half man, half fish. H2O just add water vibes. oh no cleo," daniel rambles, exaggerating his accent. he lets himself fall backwards into the waves.

"i'm not a fish," max says affronted.

"no, you're worse. you're an alien," daniel says, slowly letting himself float in the water, giggling to himself.

"hey! that's not very nice. what do you mean, worse?" max says, swimming after daniel.

daniel only laughs.

#f1 fanfic #maxiel #maxiel fic #maxiel fanfic #maxiel rpf #f1 rpf #f1 writing #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #daniel ricciardo #f1 #maxiel au #alien max au

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partywithoutsmiling · 1 year ago

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Idea that has been knocking around for few months now; lets call it 'Rock Beast AU' Basis being that Branch - and his Bros- are carrying some Rock Troll herritage in their blood, and thus the Ultimate Powerchord affects Branch rather differently- more violently- than in the movie The shot itself launches him into Poppy's prison which comes crashing down with both of them, knocking her out and causing injuries (and also causing her to miss the aftermath of the Powerchord) She comes to within a prison cell, confused and aching, with no-one but a 'Beast' for a company in the cell adjacent to hers (Unknown to her, Barb, seeing the effect the strings had on Branch- and the effort it took for her subjects to subdue him after, not without injuries- puts her plan on Zombifying everyone on hold, at least untill she figures out how to either reverse or control the 'Beast')

(Unknown to Barb, the longer the 'Beast' spends in Poppy's company- who, albeit afraid of 'it', is still too softhearted to not try and make friends- the more of Branch returns to the forefront of his mind. It does help that Poppy, put in essentially solitary confinement with no other troll to talk to, talks to the 'Beast')

(It isnt untill Barb deigns to come by to try and experiment with the Guitar on Branch again, that she learns that it's no mere critter keeping her company- and Barb, hardly willing to admit her plan being faulty, is quite eager to lay all the blame on Poppy's shoulders- after all, Branch took the hit for her)

(Poppy, now enlightened with the identity of her cell companion, doesnt take long to fall into guilt- after all, the last time she and Branch talked, they argued, and she dismissed each and every of his warning)

(It weights down on her, and causes her colours to become muted- not having the faintest idea that Branch will hardly take the defeat and is already aware enough of himself to start carefully planning their escape, in which his sudden strenght and ability to fly comes very handy)

The idea for the AU- with some different lore and effects surrounding the strings- is that during their escape, where Branch figures they might as well use their alliance with the Bergens to their advantage, they crash land when the weather turns bad. Shenanigans ensue, where they have to try and avoid rock trolls searching for them- untill by pure chance of luck, they manage to encounter John Dory

(Also Poppy doesnt have her crown, as Barb gloatingly took it, saying she will hardly need it anymore)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls #trolls fandom #Rock Beast AU #troll art

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thenoellebird · 29 days ago

Note

I have an idea for a history, I called it Laments and fallows the premise of "What if AUs are results of griefs?".

In a dimension that Stan didn't managed to recover his momeries after Weirdmageddon, Ford spent the rest of his life looking for a solution for that problem. Until he manage to find a very powerful spell, capable of granting wishes on a cosmic scale. Once completed, the spell has invoked The Serpent, God of life, and The Axolotl, God of Death. After immediately appearing in the immediate area the spell was made, they are placed under complete control of Ford, since the spell was also a binding spell. Ford command them to reveal their true forms and then to merge together to form into a new entity: Coatlicue, the Goddess of Life and Death. He wished he was the one who sacrificed his own mind to defeat Bill. Coatlicue granted his wish. However in order do that, the universe should be destroyed, and then entirely rebuilt. So, a white void envelopes the universe, destroying it in one fell swoop, and then it is re-created, by poofing up a whole new one, in accordance with the wish.

It created Reverse Falls. In the end, Reverse Ford sacrificed his own mind to stop Steve and redeem himself. However, Reverse Stan didn't accept that his brother was gone forever, much like Original Ford. And, much like the Original Ford, he found the spell and made a Wish. He wished to him to have a healthy relationship with his brother and for them to never let anything come between them.

It created Relativity Falls. In the end, Relativity Dipper sacrificed his own mind to stop Scalene, since he never made a deal that allowed her to possess his body, he never needed the metal plate in his head. And again, one Wish is made, this time by Relativity Mabel. She wished she was able to protect her brother from the supernatural.

It created Gravity Rises. Rises Ford sacrificed himself to stop Bill, but this time, it was Rises Dipper who could not accept that his Great Uncle was gone. After years of search, he find the spell and made a Wish. He wished a world where he and the people he loved were always strong enough to defeat any threat to their dimension.

It created Zero Gravity. Now, Zero Bill, that is a human, is searching for the Wish to get revenge on the cruel world were he and his brother Steve were born and recreate a fun world, a better world for him and his brother. Stan, now a god-like entity as the Guardian of Day, holds Journal 1, that, along side the other two Journals, that are hidden, hold parts of the spell are written.

dang this is detailed and intricate. Cool au history idea! Did you write any of these as AUs in fics or did you just string it all together? either way, pretty epic, and if you havent yet used the concept, maybe try it out.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #lots of aus #cool ask anon #didn't know this exited and its cool #thanks for informing me #sorry if my responses are flat I'm a lil dissociated right now #i apologize

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lvmimis · 1 year ago

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cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded.

There should be far more trepidation, you think, as you approach the site on the mountain where it all began, but instead of being flanked by your two close friends looking as confused and terrified as you were that fateful day, Tanjiro is holding your hand in a loose but steadfast grip as you march your way up.

It isn’t the first time you’ve come back to visit the sham jizo statue since you made your way into this world - the first time trying to see if it would do the reverse of its curse and send you back home the way you came - but it’s the first time in a couple of years that you’ve made the trip and a lot of things have changed.

You’re older, stronger, wiser; you’ve fallen in love. In fact, you’re engaged now, and are no longer unwaveringly preoccupied with finding your way back to your world, but rather focused on making this, making him home for you. Perhaps it’s this very shift in perspective that makes the pilgrimage much more meaningful to you as you walk hand in hand.

If Tanjiro can sense your peace, he’s not saying anything about it, content instead to look around and admire the view.

“I can see why it was a popular touring spot,” he muses. Your search for the statue pauses for a moment and your eyes divert to him - he’s smiling as usual as he takes in the landscape with both eyes and all of his heart, and your own heart flutters a bit just looking at him. It hasn’t really ever been still since the first day you fell in love, truly, and it’s embarrassing sometimes to think about it too long - that even something as simple as watching him appreciate nature can move your heart to this extent.

No one else is out here now, despite the fact that more than a hundred years in the future, you’d have been flanked by dozens of chattering foreign guests, fighting against jet lag and wishing you’d spent more time in Japanese classes. Now instead it’s quiet and serene with nothing to distract you except Tanjiro’s quiet movements.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” you muse. He nods a yes, and a hand cups your face carefully for just a moment, as though appraising your own beauty; you find yourself leaning into his hand, and just as quickly, his hold is gone and he laughs.

“You’re so precious,” he teases once he lets go. You pout, again flustered as his hand resumes holding yours and you keep moving. Soon approaching the clearing, you find that the fake statue again has not reappeared. Tanjiro pouts then points his nose to the sky.

“No trace of anything foul or cursed here. I guess it’s gone for good,” he adds.

You sigh. “That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it?”

“I’m guessing it’s not for you then,” he says. His eyes are on you, careful. You fall into a sitting position quickly, and he follows suit, watching you as you stare at the bare ground.

“It’s just a reminder that I really can never go back, even if I’m not sure I really want to,” you remind him. You’ve had this conversation before and he rubs your shoulder.

“Even if you wanted to, I’d support you,” he offers. You look at him for a moment, then press your head on his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere without you so it’s moot point.”

Red string wraps around your ring finger in place of a ring, safely tucked in the corner of your top drawer in your bedroom back at the Mansion. He wears a similar symbolic string, soon to be replaced by matching rings forged with a tungsten, as a gift from Kotetsu that took you both by surprise. Durable, as will your bond be for as long as the two of you live.

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #daydreams: kny #mimi's notes #tanjimimi

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purplepixel · 9 months ago

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*skips in, full of whimsy*

@drsmer and I have been bouncing ideas around for a Spider's Web With Strings Attached reverse AU where Mikey and Raph get trapped in the Nexus instead

I haven't had this much fun since I killed Donnie XD

*skips away cackling*

NO BECAUSE THE WAY IVE HAD THIS SKETCH LYING AROUND ON MY IPAD EVER SINCE YOU DROPPED WHAT BIG MAMA WOULDVE CALLED THEM IF SHE GOT SUNSET DUO INSTEAD

I SILENTLY WENT THROUGH A WHAT IF MONTHS AGO

Theorizing what would change. What would be similar. Would the villains stay the same? Would there be an equivalent to viper? Who would break first and who would die and why would it be mikey

Potential conflict between the sunset duo in this scenario? Mainly with raph trying to always protect Mikey. And Mikey getting upset that raph is constantly taking hits for him. We got big and little bro dynamic instead of the twins and that would be interesting to see. Rise did address this with raph learning to trust his family BUT I can see this explored further ESPECIALLY with mikey

Unfortunately, you'd have to REAAAAALLLYYYYY find a way to convince me that Donnie and Leo would struggle to find and get them out. No offense to sunset duo, but I think the disaster twins would have a much easier time rescuing them once they knew where they were simply bc of their powers and abilities. Portals are so op. And then Donnie has his tech. Perfect for finding and retrieving. Would the whole maze plan even be needed? Hmm

Oh man and just the disaster twins trying to find them. I never see that??? We never get a raph and Mikey go missing and the two trying to find them are the disaster twins??? Equally as interesting. OHOHOHO these two falling apart and taking it out on each other would be SO MESSY.

EVIL LAUGH

#cleaned up and colored my sketch just for this ask #i think raph was gladiator/greek/roman inspired #and mikey was aztec/mayan #but its been awhile and i have a terrible memory #ANYWAYS AAAAA #I FORGOT ABOUT THIS #youve got me thinking again #swsa #reverse swsa au #pixel replies #<3 curly #lmao im not gonna ignore that last line #you had way too much fun doing that

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syrup-scribbles · 8 months ago

Note

"In your reverse age AU, does the first movie still take place if Branch is in charge? Would the Chief still find them because Viva throws the party anyway, or would Branch prevent them from being discovered?"

So I had to do a lot of re-writing of the canon plot and timeline to make one that would make sense given that the bros never had a falling out. The first movie's plot does happen but I also combined it with the "zombification/mind control" of the strings in the second movie. But starting from the beginning, Viva doesn't actually throw the big party because she grew up knowing what happened to her sister and also grew up with Branch being a role model and she kept some of her anxiety that we see her have in the third movie. So while she is a happy kid/teen, she is more cautious than Poppy was. Branch isn't so much "in charge" as he is a well-liked friend to the ones in charge (Kismet). ALSO John Dory meets Gristle after his dad dies, they meet at the tunnels on accident because John Dory secretly goes there to "talk to Spruce" aka the assumed grave of his brother, and Gristle ran away because he is a kid who's dad just died and suddenly is being given so much responsibility. The two become friends and while Gristle can't make the law yet about not eating trolls because he isn't of age to become king yet, he promises to make it a law when he does. As for the whole first and second movie combo plot, I actually sped up the timeline a bit, so Chef becoming a problem happens around 5 years earlier. She recruits Chaz after finding out what the strings can do, and comes up with the plan to get ALL trolls under her control so there will be enough to last many more trollstices and cement her as leader of the Bergens or whatever she was planning. Still ironing out some details, so stay tuned!

#reverse age au #trolls reverse age au #trolls branch #trolls viva #trolls gristle #trolls john dory #ask #dreamworks trolls #trolls

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evilgoosegoose · 1 month ago

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lots of au stuff :3

Rare time when it’s all one au, they’re chronologically out of order,

but essentially with this au, Jack is a both a puppeteer, and a puppet, Kidnapped by Rezzoch months before the Apocalypse, right in front of Quint, Jack is tortured and broken, and eventually given the power to puppeteer anybody he wants to so long as they’re still alive, and he can put a doll representative on his strings, though with this, his memories are pushed down and replaced, they’re still in him, but to relive them is painful

meanwhile Quint desperately tries to explain what happened to the police, but they don’t believe him, and chalk it up to an unhappy foster kid running away and leave it, Quint blames himself, and does his best to find something to bring him back, but after a while he gives up, until portals open in the sky, and monsters fall from them.

Quint gathers the gang -Jack, and events continue as normal, with slight differences, since Jack isn’t there, the blarg problem happens a bit later, the shrieking starts earlier, etc

With the Tree of entry however, Jack returns the moment it’s slightly functional, he’s come to contact Thrull about his body’s extended warranty, and takes hold of the whole operation, puppeteering Thrull to do all that stuff, but when he “dies”, he’s forced to reveal himself, guilting Quint (shown in the images) to not attack and let him stay, despite being nearly cartoonishly villainous.

he keeps trying to summon Rezzoch, but because of the gang’s antics he keeps being thwarted and slowed, (from here this is all just rough outline, none of it is set in stone, subject to change) over time he grows fond of them, and tries to ask Rezzoch to maybe choose a different place to target and leave this world alone, Rezzoch does not take this well and pulls an uno reverse and takes him as her puppet, disregarding his needs, since she only needs him functioning to summon her, the gang catches on and try to free him, and from here I have nothing, here’s some cinnamon muffins I made

#the last kids on earth #tlkoe jack #tlkoe #tlkoe au #jack sullivan #tlkoe june #june del toro #tlkoe dirk #dirk savage #tlkoe quint #quint baker #body horro tw

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camcat1320 · 3 months ago

Note

How do you envision Jet becoming the "Winter Soldier" in your AU?

After the events of Lake Laogi, the Dai Li capture Jet, Longshot, and Smellerbee. They heal Jet using their top secret well of spirit water**. The Dai Li then puts the trio into a secret mind control program without them knowing. The project is under the guise of a mental health institution operated by the university. Cactus juice and buzzard wasp honey will be used in these experiments as well. This whole plot would be inspired by Project MK Ultra from the dark side of US history.

In chapter 8, a mysterious masked figure infiltrates Omashu and assassinates King Bumi. Katara and Aang are by Bumi's side while Zuko and Toph chase after the culprit. They fight and tussle which results in the culprit's mask falling off. Zuko is stunned to see Jet.

😧"Jet?"

😠"Who's Jet?"

(debating whether or not Toph should be there for the reveal or if I need to incapacitate her somehow so it's only Zuko & Jet in that moment.)

Jet would then escape capture. Katara was unable to heal Bumi due to the poison used in the dagger. When Zuko and Toph return empty handed, Aang grills them, fuming and asks if they found out who it was.

Zuko: No, they were wearing a mask and they escaped. [lying]

Aang: [angry] Toph, is he telling the truth?

[pause for dramatic tension]

Toph: Yeah, he's telling the truth. [lying]

This would be a moral question for the audience. If someone is under mind control, are they to blame for their actions? Is it ever okay to lie or withhold information?

I also want to make a chapter where Jet and Azula must interact. Jet then gets activated by a string of words and he betrays Azula, resulting in her being imprisoned in Ba Sing Se.

Several chapters later in Ba Sing Se, the truth will be revealed that Zuko knew that it was Jet who assassinated Bumi and didn't tell Aang. Aang would attack Jet and Zuko would get in the middle. Zuko and Jet walk away as criminals and fugitives.

Katara would do some waterbending healing on Jet's mind to try and undo the brainwashing. Jet is reunited with his father, Jeong Jeong, and must grapple with that strained relationship. Jet and Jin will have a complicated romance. Jet is getting a lot of therapy to say the least. His arc is going to start in chapter 8 and go thru chapter 18.

There's a lot going on here that is hard to put in a single post. Aang would be spiraling downward in his fall arc hence why he is acting OOC in these scenarios. I need to show his gradual descent down the slippery slope. Aang will also have a false understanding of the world because he is young and naive. This makes him align himself with the antagonists of Book 4 though he believes he's on the side of good.

On top of it, Emperor Kuei is holding Fire Nationals prisoner and subjecting them to the same experiments Jet went through, creating a secret army of Firebenders to be used as puppets. But Aang, not knowing of this nefarious scheme, would align himself with Emperor Kuei. This is similar to how Bolin follows Kuvira in TLOK.

Can you believe this all started as a Zutara fanfic?

**The magic involved with spirit water is that it reverses time, returning the injured person back to a state before the injury occurred. Spirits are 4th dimensional beings hence the time manipulation involved with spirit water. But this also erases any memories between the mortal injury and the spirit water healing. So in the case of Aang, he was returned to a state before he was killed by Azula but not prior to the injury itself, leaving the scar on him. If Zuko wants his facial scar healed, he would lose all memories between the agni kai and the spirit water healing. Zuko would choose to keep his scar, not wanting to forget anything; the lessons he's learned, his friends, and definitely not Katara.

#book 4 air the missing element #atla fanfic

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palaxy27 · 6 months ago

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Falling for you (curios facts)

For those interested in learning more about the song, I’d like to share the background behind it, as well as some changes and clarifications.

This song was written months ago, before the idea of the musical came about, but no changes were made because, in my opinion, it fits well with the AU. However, notes were added regarding how it would sound, what happens in that context, and the emotions conveyed. This doesn’t mean it won’t be modified, though any changes would likely involve shortening it (estimating the song's length to be around 4–5 minutes).

As I mentioned in a post about which instruments could represent the characters, the guitar appears here as Sashi's instrument. Instead of just the acoustic guitar (representing softer, more emotional tones), the electric guitar is also present—not only to reflect her anger and frustration but also her feelings of love. The song alternates between the two instruments to symbolize these emotions.

Jhoanne also makes an appearance here (YAY 🥰). She is accompanied by synthesized voices. Her personality, based on information from the wiki (whether canon or not), is shy, friendly, sweet, and calm. However, she seems more comfortable around people like Sashi. Thus, the oboe would be an excellent instrument to represent Jhoanne due to its soft and melodic sound, which captures her calmness and sweetness. The oboe can also create playful and cheerful tones, reflecting a more fun and mischievous side that I imagine she might have.

Additionally, while the oboe and guitar can sound good together, this harmony only works if handled properly. The oboe is a wind instrument, and the guitar is a string instrument—two very different types, much like the characters themselves (Jhoanne being initially shy and reserved with people, and Sashi being... well, Sashi). If not played correctly together, they could clash. This dynamic reflects their friendship: Jhoanne knows almost everything about Sashi and vice versa, except for certain secrets. The repertoire, harmonization, and volume of these instruments play a significant role in reflecting their relationship.

Why isn’t the oboe in this song?(Even if no one asked 😅). While characters may have representative instruments, this doesn’t mean their instrument has to play every time they’re present. Other elements, such as leitmotifs (phrases, melodies, or even recurring words), can take their place.

This also applies in reverse—an instrument might play even if the character isn’t physically present. A great example here is the piano, which represents Penn. Though he isn’t physically in the scene, the piano is ever-present as the foundational instrument for the song’s soundtrack. This reflects how Sashi can’t get him out of her head and how she constantly thinks about him.

Phyllis is another example of this. Even though she doesn’t physically appear, her symbolic element does. When Sashi is reminded of her duties, or when Jhoanne tries to convince Sashi to relax, Phyllis’ choir appears. For those unaware, Phyllis is represented by a characteristic choir made up of voices representing the lives depending on their mission. This highlights Phyllis’ constant emphasis on the importance of their work, even if it conflicts with the team’s desires.

While it’s unclear how Phyllis and Sashi met, many fans agree Phyllis might have trained Sashi from a young age to be an assistant and take her job seriously. Some fan theories even suggest Phyllis might have warned or forbidden Sashi from being with Penn, possibly because teenage love is seen as a distraction.

This is evident when Jhoanne tries to get Sashi to relax. A verse of the choir overshadows her voice, reminding her not to neglect her duties:

Complete chorus:

"As heroes, you must rise to save the day,

Hold your ground, let nothing stand in your way.

No room for distractions, no time to break,

The fate of the multiverse is at stake."

The choir initially follows Jhoanne’s cheerful and calming rhythm, slowly becoming louder and more serious, eventually eclipsing her to remind her of her duties.

As a last fact sashi in one part refers to penn as princess and cotton candy boy, princess because of penn's transformation into the fairy quantum dimension, which is a princess (duh 😑) and cotton candy boy is because of the joke of the way her hair is shaped, aside from a headcanon that just as (at least in the English version) penn refers to sashi as hot potato, sashi should also referince penn as a food, being cotton candy (being their couple nicknames uwu).

Scale of musical notes:

●Intro:

C Major or A Minor

●First Verse:

G Major or E Minor

●Initial Chorus (More intense piano, slow progression):

D Major or B Minor

●Electric Section (Guitar):

E Major or C# Minor

●Calm After the Climax:

F Major or D Minor

●Part with Jhoanne's Intervention:

A Major

●Acoustic Interlude (Jhoanne's Advice):

C Major or A Minor

●Final Reprise:

G Major

That would be it 🥰

#penn zero part time hero #pzpth #penn zero #penn zero: part-time hero #sashi kobayashi #art #song lyrics #song #phillyps #i really need to put a name for the phillyps's chorus #The choir of destiny? The space gorilla chorus? The universal choir?#musical theatre #musical idea #small fandoms

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maliciousandcrude · 5 months ago

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I remembered my god forsaken MM Reverse Au so Uhhh have the All Stars thing!!!

It starts with Ultra M falling down from the sky and landing in what seems to be a backstage. As he wanders, LMX begins monologuing.

"Not bad. Not bad at all!"

"I gotta say, you and ya furry slave are better at this than I thought."

"I bet ya missing that precious godhood of yours no?"

"Well. Sorry to tell ya this."

"But nothing ever lasts forever."

"Remember when I said I might let you out of that cartridge hell if you just beat my ass in 3 songs?"

"Well. That promise was broken. Long ago."

"And I'm not letting that go."

"But yet I wonder."

"WHY do y'all keep on fighting?"

"Are ya just that desperate to return to your godhood?"

"Well. Hate to break to it ya pals."

"But there's no light at the end of this tunnel."

"Especially."

"For."

"MURDERERS."

"WHAT'S BEEN DONE IS DONE."

"YOUR CURIOSITY HAS BEEN NOTHING MORE THAN YOUR DOWNFALL."

"A DOWNFALL THAT SHALL BE FORGOTTEN FOR CENTURIES."

"YOU KNEW WHAT THAT FLASHDRIVE WAS. AND YET YOU STILL WENT ALONG WITH IT."

"YOU'RE IN MY DOMAIN NOW. BOTH OF YOU."

"SO YOU BETTER BE READY TO POUR ALL OF YOUR BLOOD. SWEAT. AND SOUL. INTO THIS FINAL SONG."

"AND THIS TIME."

"NO. MORE. RUNNING."

"SO WHAT ARE YA WAITING FOR?"

"TIME FOR OUR PERFORMANCE PLUMBER BOY."

"SING LIKE YOU'RE ON THE BRINK OF DEATH."

As M reaches a noticeable light in the middle, Omega gets dropped down.

"DON'T WORRY. YOU WON'T BE DOING THIS ALONE. FOR NOW."

The platform underneath them then raises, bringing them to the main stage. And the song starts in the mall from week 5. Just destroyed. And LMX is now powered up. (I don't have a name for his Ultra Espue form lol.) Right before Act 1 ends, LMX snatches up Omega and sends Ultra M to fight Kanojo (Fucked up Girlfriend) one jump scare later, Kanojo flies away and has her creations. Hōshu (Fucked up Pico), Meresuto (Fucked up Mommy Mearest) and Shin'ainaru (Fucked up Daddy Dearest) after that. Act 3 happens. M suddenly finds himself in a hazy stage. As the mist clears, someone lowers down from strings. It's... Omega. And he's dead. This isn't good. M is understandably upset by this. He tries not to show it but there's that faint hint of him physically dying on the inside from the fact he just learnt his own creation died. All the while LMX is watching them. After the first section, he starts singing (Not writing lyrics cuz I genuinely have zero ideas for lyrics rn). After that section ends. LMX monologues again.

"DON'T YOU GET IT NOW? I'VE TAKEN EVERYTHING YOU HAD. AND NOW YOU'RE NOTHING. THERE'S NO HOPE FOR YOU. SO WHU ARE YOU STILL TRYING?" And so the final act begins. Ultra M is standing on a floating stage while LMX now a giant looks down on him. He starts mimicking all the various characters throughout the mod. And soon after, M starts singing by himself, a light shining down on him. As he sings, he grips his microphone tightly in anger, before pulling out a Racoon leaf powerup and using it on himself. (Also, I kinda like to think that after this point, instead of copying LMX's moves he just makes up his own out of rage. Basically breaking the FNF formula of copying your opponents moves.) One solo with the two later, a spike comes out of the ground and pierces through Ultra M's head. Killing him. And the song.

#mario madness #ultra m #Omega #Au #Holy fucking hell this was a PAIN to write #Secret Exit reversed might more painful to write though...#I got so many ideas for SE reverse #You do NOT wanna know #Actually maybe you might

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tickledpink31 · 9 months ago

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Have you ever thought of a Phantom of the Opera Au? I recently just watched it

Ah, Phantom of the Opera. I remember my first experience with being the 2005 movie and falling in love, then I fell in love even harder watching the 25th anniversary (Ramin Karimloo is still my number 1), finally a friend and I watched the show live with Chris Mann (he's hilarious btw he made a parody of Music of the Night).

Could you just imagine a Phantom reverse harem-type story. Christine's already busy with Erik and Raoul, why not add more into the mix with Minako? I can think of a few roles for the boys.

Minako is, of course, Christine Daae, the ingenue and rising prima donna. She's got a bit more gumption and assertiveness because, well, she's Minako. She's going to kick someone in the gut at some point with her heels. (Still adore Christine, though. She didn't deserve all that manipulation and torment.)

Malleus feels like he fits the role of Erik/Phantom the most—a lonely, tortured soul who has a talent for music (Malleus canonically plays string instruments. Also, his VA, Kato Kazuki, was in Phantom Black, Japan's own version of Phantom of the Opera)

Hear me out, I think it would be great if Leona was a grumpier version of Raoul. He himself isn't the one sponsoring the Opera house, it's his family and he's forced to attend the performances. I'd say he's closer to Hadley Fraser's Raoul, who is slightly more of an ass (sorry, Hadley. I love your performance, I swear). He only became invested when he was reunited with Minako, his childhood friend.

Riddle could also be a good Raoul too, but I don't see him getting involved in the arts much less fund an opera house. His involvement would probably go as far Trey and Cater taking him to a night at the opera then being enchanted by the new prima donna.

Kalim and Azul are Andre and Firmin respectively, the new managers of the opera house. It fits them so well, Azul being Firmin as the greedier businessman of the two while Kalim being Andre who genuinely loves the arts and is actually invested in how the theatre behind the scenes work.

Vil is either Madame Giry or Carlotta. I can see him being this hardass dance teacher, but him being the prima donna fits him so well too. He was miffed about how strange disasters kept happening as he performed (caused by Malleus) and felt insulted that he was replaced by Minako not even two minutes after he walked out of the performance. He did start seeing Minako in a new light when she offered to be co-leads of the opera house and discovered that they compliment one another based on their own strengths and weaknesses.

Idia is a much shyer Joseph Buquet, a stagehand, and has had many close encounters with the Phantom because of his position being behind the scenes often (don't worry, Malleus won't kill him). Unlike, Joseph though, he doesn't really talk about his Phantom sightings out of fear of being a victim to his punjab lasso... except to Ortho and later on, Minako.

Ace and Deuce are both Meg Giry as background dancers and good friends to Minako. Actually, all the first years could be Meg Giry too as either dancers or stagehands.

If I were to add the rest of Diasomnia to the mix, they would be a mix of Madame Giry and Nadir Khan. They know Malleus the best, but they are enablers at worst. They know how dangerous Malleus can be and tipped off Leona or Riddle on how to successfully beat him and rescue Minako once everything goes to shit.

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sporksaber · 21 days ago

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(I am not interested in debating the ethics of age swap aus) I have never seen teen wolf but i have read a lot of fanfiction, including a few steter fics. I think, when in an au where there isn't a problamatic power dynamuc, their personalities are really fun. As a result, i have created 2 aus over the years that i'm not going to write because i haven't seen the show and won't because it'll probably make the fics less fun.

Collegues with benefits to lovers:

Background info- peter is 10 years older than derek who is 2 years older than stiles (talia is like, 15 years older than peter). Stiles is settled into his carreer but relativly unknown when they meet, so lets go with 25 and 37 to start. Peter is left hand of the hale pack, meaning he does the more underhanded murders for talia who is hale alpha (no hale fire), and he also does favors for various packs and independent supernatural people. He is a problem solver.

Stiles is kind of like a supernatural PI, but that also ends up with a lot of murder, stalking and reverse kidnapping. He is also a problem solver. He's a spark with a lot of hard won knowledge and a refusal (or inability) to quit, he gets things done.

They aren't from the same town, but both are from california.

Him and peter meet while trying to track and remove some monster that's terrorizing a rural area. Their help was requested by different groups but they end up working together. After a hard battle while they're hopped up on adrenaline, they find a motel to stay the night at. There's only one room, and while there is 2 beds they fall into the same one for some no strings attached celebration sex.

Of couse, since not a lot of people can take care of the problems they take care of, they run into eachother several more times. At which point the promise of no strings attached sex itself becomes a string.

Eventually they become more friends with benefits than collegues. And maybe peter hears a rumor of someone who could be stiles and takes a few detours. And maybe stiles hears mention of the hale's left hand and sticks around town for longer than he should.

About 2 or 3 years pass of them seeing eacother semi-regularly, sometimes once a month, sometimes with a few months between. Stiles calls peter, desperate, and peter leaves right away.

The investigative nature of the problems stiles solve are finally brought up. Peter kills monsters, he takes problems out. Stiles tracks monsters and takes them apart, and his monsters are often worse than a creature who eats the hearts of children to survive.

Stiles busts a young supernatural trafficking ring. It wasn't a large opperation, but it was brutal, and the sights and sounds wouldn't leave him. It was a difficult ordeal, and after he organized for all the children to go to their packs or people who could help, and all the bodies are carted off, he breaks. He's in a secluded cabin in the mountains that had served as his base of opperations and he can't bring himself to go outside. He doesn't feel safe and he can't calm down. He knows he needs to call someone. His friends know what he does but evwn though they are supernaturals themselves, they're not aware of this side of things. They wouldn't know what to do. And his dad would come for him, would on some level understand the trauma of what he'd seen, but if stiles wasn't safe then neither was his dad. He couldn't come here.

So he calls peter. He's ready to shatter when he feels someone enter his wards, but when he recongnizes peter he drags him inside and shoves him down. Peter is confused and on edge, but he pulls himself together in the face of what he smells as stiles barries his face into his neck.

It's two days before peter get's the story of what's going on. Another day before he gently tells stiles they can't stay there to mucg longer. Stiles still doesn't feel right outside, so he asks peter to take him home.

Peter meets the sheriff. It's only slightly awkward as the sheriff can see that his son truly feels safe with the man and peter feels a strange compulsion to win the sheriff's aproval. The sheriff still cleans his gun threateningly in front if him though.

Peter stays an extra few days with the stilinskis before he has to return to his pack. Both him and stiles know that peter meeting stiles' only family and being invited into their home has thoroughly put them beyond friends, but neither talk about it.

Months pass, and it's not the same but how they act hasn't changed. They run into eachother sometimes, seek eachother out when they can.

When derek and cora go missing the pavk descends into a frenzy. Days pass and they grow desperate. Talia is lashing out and the feedback echoes through their bonds. Then peter gets a text, "package in transit: undamaged, expect delays due to traffic." He called stiles as soon as it was clear his niece and nepgew were no longer in town.

Talia does not approve. Not because she doesn't trust her brother, but because she was blindsided by this and her younger children still aren't home. And she gets more unhappy as she connects some dots. Peter spending longer away when he's "consulting," and the sudden unexplained two week absence that she somehow let him get away with not explaining. Tensions grow.

Meanwhile, comedy side plot cora, derek, and stiles road trip. (It was originally just derek, but i feel like adding cora gives the plotline extra oomph.) Derek is grumpy and cora is trying to make him worse while also making stiles as uncomfortable as possible, two goals which work together well. (Doing the math really shifted things but kind of made it better. Cora and stiles are 29ish and derek is 31 and should have his shit together. But no, he's on a forced post-kidnapping road trip.) Derek eventually gets less grumpy but moderatly more violent, and cora pingpongs between invasive questions about stiles and peter, antagonizing derek and stiles, and disappearing inconveniently at rest stops (Cora is a (semi)expierienced solo traveler, she should be able to stretch her legs without her older brother or her unkle's boyfriend breathing down her neck.)

When they finally make it to hale pack land talia ices stiles out and he leaves with nothing more than a quick word to peter that he'll be staying with his dad for awhile. Cora's pissed that he left without saying goodbye and derek's trying to figure out how to get out of dodge when his mom won't let him out of sight because something is Wrong.

Now that tensions have been let out peter and talia are able to properly feel sore over peter's withheld-truth lies and talia's rejection of someone peter chose as his. The explosion is swift.

Peter's nieces and nephew catch him packing a duffel. Cora, who caught on a little late to the tension, is terrified that her unkle is Leaving, but peter assures her he just needs a bit of temporary space, as does talia. Derek almost says that he gets plenty of space, but he was there for the fight and knows that that's partially the cause. Laura, who has been doing a lot in the background as heir, scent marks their unkle and tells him to come back soon. Reminds him that introductions should traditionally be made durring a full moon. A squabble breaks out and peter has to slip away from a pile of flainling limbs.

So peter shows up to stiles house with his tail between his legs while talia definitly doesn't sulk about her baby brother who was always by her side pulling away from the pack, nor about the fact that she's sulking.

Peter and stiles eventually talk about the fact that stiles is hurt that peter's pack knew nothing ahout him. Peter tries his best to explain, they knew of him as his collegue, but what they have is something he wanted as his alone. He had thought about stiles meeting his pack, but he hadn't been ready.

Eventually peter goes back to the pack. Him and talia have a heart to heart thst isn't really about stiles at all (she had felt like peter was pulling away from the pack and she just let him) and healing is had all around. Then peter tells her he "wants to make an introduction to the pack," and when talia asks who he wants to introduce he says, "mine."

And then theres an epilogue or something, idk. The meat of the idea was collegues who sleep together to lovers and unkle in law and same age nephew road trip. The rest was a vehicle to explain the timeline of that.

Next up is a college roomate au that gets angsty.

#fanfiction #teen wolf #steter

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steddie-as-they-come · 2 years ago

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blame it all on human nature - chapter 1

ao3 link

this is the living hawkins au!! my friend said i should crosspost onto tumblr bc i worked for two solid months on this fic and she's been noticing how sad i get when i don't have comments :( tumblr's always a lot nicer to me when it comes to comments so hopefully you enjoy!!

A jolt of fear goes through their heart as Eddie’s eyes go blank.

“No,” they whisper, coming out like more of a breeze. “No!”

They hardly even notice as the group stands and leaves, too focused on Eddie.

Magic floods through him, and he gasps to life, then just as quickly releases it.

“Wake up, please!” they beg, watching hopefully as he coughs up blood, then gritting their nonexistent teeth as he goes limp again. “You are not going out like this, Edward Munson!”

And they slam more magic into his body, hitting him with everything they’ve got and then some.

Around the edges of the town, trees begin to turn brown and die. They siphon that power, that life force, feeding it all into Eddie.

He begins to seize.

They just keep going, feeding as much magic as they possibly can into his body. His skin glows, veins igniting with a deep bloody crimson light, illuminating the Upside Down in flashes like lightning.

They’ve never felt as relieved as they do when Eddie’s eyes open, pure white.

His heart’s irregular, but beating, and they slow it down, keeping a steady flow drip, drip, dripping into him like an IV.

They will not let him die down here, in a place they have no control over.

His eyes dim from their white glow, returning to normal, then regaining clarity. He blinks hazily at the reddish sky.

They wait, more magic at the ready, just in case Eddie needs it.

Thankfully though, he stays awake this time, his mouth moving as he mutters inaudibly to himself.

They metaphorically sit back, breathing heavily. It had taken a whole day to get him to stay stable.

Hopefully Eddie stays that way.

Hawkins doesn’t think they could bear it if they truly lost him.

☆Friday, March 28nd, 1986☆

Whoever came up with the notion that the Upside Down is the reverse of Hawkins was wrong.

Not completely wrong, but not correct either.

The Upside Down is less of a mirror dimension, and more under Hawkins’ skin. The blood and bones to the Rightside Up’s hair and follicles.

Gross metaphor, but Eddie’s always been too good at describing things.

As he lays there, bleeding out, mouth metallic and ears ringing, he regrets a lot of things. He regrets jumping in front of the bats, but not enough to wish it was Dustin instead. He regrets diving down after Steve, but if he hadn’t, Steve would be dead. Probably. Actually, he wouldn’t put it past Wheeler and Buckley to save him without any Eddie help.

Most of all, he regrets not getting to say goodbye to Wayne.

He gags on the blood coating his throat.

The skin on his fingertips is raw from playing his guitar, and Eddie, despite knowing it’s a bad idea, stretches to reach the neck of his guitar lying a few feet away, gritting his teeth through the pain.

He relaxes when he gets the guitar in his hand. He always feels more confident with his guitar in his hand.

Confidence does fuck-all for him right about now, but it’s nice to have regardless.

The ground beneath him is rising and falling. Slowly inflating like a pair of lungs, then deflating just as slow. It would have been unnoticeable if Eddie had anything else to pay attention to.

“Hello?” he chokes out. His inner DM is berating him. Oh yeah, good going, Munson. Yell out to the possibly-alive creepy murder dimension. This is how Jeff got killed like four campaigns ago.

I’m basically dead anyway, he thinks to himself. Dustin would call this science.

He struggles to sit up, breathing hard through the white-hot pain rippling through his abdomen, white-knuckling it around the frets of his guitar. The steel strings biting into his flesh help ground him, and after a couple minutes, he can see again, now dizzily sitting up.

“HELLO??” he yells, louder. “ARE YOU OUT THERE?”

He pauses, decides, Fuck it, and calls, “I CAN HEAR YOU BREATHING.”

That one gets a reaction, but not the flurry of demobats he was expecting.

Eddie almost drops his guitar.

“Wayne?”

Because that is Wayne, sitting in front of him, his edges blurred and fuzzy like TV static. He smiles indulgently at Eddie.

But when he speaks, that isn’t Wayne’s voice.

Or, isn’t only Wayne’s voice.

“Hello, Eddie.” Not-Wayne says, hundreds of voices layered over top of each other. It’s giving Eddie a headache, listening to all of them.

“Your- your voice-“

“My name is Hawkins.” He lays a hand on Eddie’s knee, and a prickle of warmth runs from his touch through Eddie’s body. Surprisingly, Eddie’s injuries don’t hurt as much anymore.

He still doesn’t understand jack shit about what’s happening, though. “Wayne?”

“Hawkins.” Way- Hawkins doesn’t look upset, just patiently waiting for Eddie to understand. “Like the town.”

Eddie stares at Hawkins, and his world recontextualizes.

Like when you’re staring at an optical illusion of a black and white image, and all you can see is the vase, and suddenly you can see the pair of faces instead even though nothing changed? It sorta feels like that.

Hawkins is…Hawkins. The town. Alive and breathing, relatively, sitting in front of him in the form of Eddie’s uncle.

You know those days when you’re like “This might as well happen?”

Yeah. Eddie’s having one of those days.

Eddie decides to start small, grasping for little things about Hawkins to ask about. If he jumps into the whole living-town thing, his brain will explode.

“Your voice-” he starts, trying not to offend the probable-deity.

“I speak with the voice of everyone in Hawkins,” says the voice of everyone in Hawkins. If Eddie focuses enough, he thinks he can hear his own voice in there, and that isn't migraine-inducing at all. “I took the appearance of your uncle to make you comfortable, but I can change if you'd like.”

Eddie blinks and Gareth is sitting there, the same expression on his face that had been on Wayne's, and Eddie inhales with a shuddering breath.

”What...are you?” hehe asks, and then berates himself. So much for being respectful.

“I am the embodiment of Hawkins. The town takes care of its people, Eddie, and I am the town.”

As much as he can (his abdomen still kinda hurts from being, oh, I don't know, ripped to shreds ), he does a little seated bow, trying to show respect to the town he's lived in for basically his whole life.

Hawkins laughs, and Eddie hears Dustin's snorty giggle come to the forefront of the cacophony of voices. He smiles in spite of himself.

”Oh, I don’t care about that, Eddie. I've decided I really like you. Can't have you dying here.“ Those are weird words to hear out of Gareth's mouth, but Eddie waves it off. Might as well happen.

“Wait, decided? Did you not like me before?” he says before he can stop himself.

To his-their credit, Hawkins looks ashamed. ”No, not at first. I don't normally have any sort of feeling for people. I had two types of people in my mind at first. People from Hawkins, and people not from Hawkins. Obviously, the people from Hawkins ranked higher than the people outside of it.“

”That sounds a bit biased,“ Eddie jokes, testing his luck.

Hawkins laughs again, and this time it's Jeff's low chuckle at the front. ”I'm aware.“ They trace a line through the bloody dirt around the two of them, and say, ”I didn't know I could like anyone more than my standard feelings to my citizens. Until Will.”

Eddie tilts his head, cringing at the way his matted hair brushes his neck. He pulls off his bandana and ties it back up, hoping to pull the strands off his neck, but he still needs to shower, badly. There is definitely blood in there. “Will?”

“Byers. He went missing in 1983, do you remember that?”

Eddie did. He noticed the way Jonathan Byers had been hunched over that week, and the way people were afraid of Will when he had returned, calling him 'Zombie Boy'. Personally, Eddie thought it was a metal nickname, but the kid probably didn't think so.

“Yeah, I do.” Eddie says, picking at his jacket cuff. “He's your favorite?”

“He was my first favorite.” Hawkins says. “His friends soon joined, though. Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair-”

Eddie feels his lips part. “Wait, you're telling me that three of my party members are basically clerics - favored by a god - and I didn't know??”

“Not just three.” Hawkins says, smugly smiling. “Erica Sinclair was a delight - I always thought she was so funny!“

Eddie pats his pockets, wishing for a lighter and a cigarette. ”Seriously? And none of them told me?“

”Oh, they don't know.“ Hawkins says flippantly, and Eddie jerks his head up to stare at them.

”They don't know?“

“No. Even the rest of my favorites - Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley Eleven, Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers, Max Mayfield - none of them have ever seen me. Just you.”

“I'm one of your favorites?” Eddie asks.

“Well, of course! Funny, brave, and so passionate - what’s not to like?”

Words fail Eddie for what has to be the first time maybe ever, and he leans back on his hands, staring lazily up at the reddish sky.

“What do I do now?” he asks softly. “I didn’t think I’d make it when I went to be the hero.”

Hawkins stands, brushing themself off, and offers a hand to pull Eddie to his feet. “First, we’re gonna get you out of here.” They make an exaggerated show of looking around in disgust. “Nasty in here.”

Eddie picks up his guitar, cringing at the blood caked on it. “Yeah, about that- isn’t this place part of you?”

Hawkins shrugs, striding down the street. “It’s more like my blood and guts are down here. Can’t control anything, sorta like how you can’t control your blood flowing through your veins. I could heal you, though, since you’re from the Rightside Up.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Eddie slings his guitar over his shoulder and follows Hawkins. “Where are we going?”

“There are some open portals here and there. I’m taking you to the closest one. I’ll be able to protect you much better if you’re with everyone else and on the side of Hawkins I can actually control.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Eddie says hastily, speeding up to walk besides Hawkins, careful to step over the vines and plants that are all linked to Vecna. Even if Nancy and Steve killed the fucker, Eddie doesn’t wanna risk it.

Hawkins and Eddie walk down the street together, Eddie jumping potholes and stepping carefully over vines.

“So, uh, Hawkins...“ Eddie starts, not quite knowing where he's going with this. “Do you-”

He's interrupted by a chorus of screeches from high above.

Demobats.

Hawkins looks unfazed for a few seconds, then their eyes widen as they realize. “Shit, you're mortal, sorry. We gotta be more careful. The only thing I can do down here is heal you.”

“It was appreciated the first time around,” Eddie says, “but I’d hate for you to have to do it over and over again.”

Hawkins laughs at him. “Yeah, I don’t really want to do that either. Luckily, there’s a portal this way.” They don’t appear to be walking any faster, but Eddie suddenly has to jog to keep up.

Eddie wonders if he’ll ever be able to look at his trailer without seeing Chrissy’s bones breaking in his mind. He looks up at the hole still suspended in midair, this time without any helpful sheets or mattresses (or Dustins) to help him through it.

He is not letting that stop him from getting out of this hell dimension, though. Eddie takes hold of some of the wreckage of the trailer, trying to drag it over and prop it under the rift.

“Hey, Hawkins.” he grunts, pulling the crumbling kitchen counter towards the gate. “Mind givin’ me a hand?”

Suddenly, Hawkins is leaning over his shoulder. “What are you doing ?”

“Getting stuff to stand on, because I want out of here, what’s it look like?” He runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Don’t yell at the deity, dumbass, they could change their mind about wanting you alive.

Luckily for him, Hawkins just snickers. “You don’t need that. Come here.”

He and Hawkins huddle below the rift, and Hawkins wraps an arm around him and extends the other to the Rightside Up.

Eddie’s about to ask what they’re trying to do, but he doesn’t make it through the first word.

The branch of a tree, a living, green tree, leaves on it and everything, spirals into the Upside Down, curling around Hawkins’ arm. Then it retracts, pulling them both into the Rightside Up.

Eddie stands up, brushing himself off. “That’s a pretty handy trick you’ve got th-“

For the second time in as many minutes, his words crawl back down his throat to die.

Hawkins is on fire.

Hawkins the deity stands next to him, looking out over the town.

“We-we killed Vecna, I thought.” Eddie says, eyes tracing the fiery X crossing the town. “He wasn’t supposed to open more gates.”

“Max died.” Hawkins says solemnly, and Eddie spins to face them so fast his hair whips him in the face.

“Red? Little Red?”

“Not permanently. But Vecna possessed her, and before they could save her, her heart stopped, opening the last gate. She was revived, but she’s in a coma.” They sigh sadly. “I’ve done what I can, but the town being like this hurts me.”

Eddie picks his way out of the trailer wreckage. “That sucks. But we’ll figure this out, okay, Hawkins?”

There’s no answer.

Eddie turns to look.

Hawkins is gone.

That’s the trouble with gods, Eddie thinks to himself as he steps through the wasteland that is the trailer park. Just because they’re omnipotent means they just do whatever they want. He manages to get past the debris, thanking everything he can think of that he was wearing sturdy shoes.

Eddie marvels at the carnage as he finally reaches the street.

It’s…not that bad, actually.

Sure, the Hawkins Volunteer Fire Department is probably working overtime, and some very unhappy families lost their homes in the wreckage, but it isn’t as apocalyptic as Eddie imagined. There’s no bodies, nor an abundance of screaming.

Honestly, people are mostly ignoring it? Maybe ignoring isn’t the right word, but there’s a woman on a bike, and a line of cars all carefully swerving around a fiery crack in the road, and a man peeling papers off of telephone poles.

Eddie peers closer at the latter.

“Uncle Wayne!” he shouts, sprinting directly towards him.

Wayne doesn’t get any time to react before Eddie slams into him full throttle. They were touchy before, but it’s never been like this, more like pats on the shoulder here and there. But Eddie thinks he gets a free pass for this one, after hitching a ride with God out of hell.

Wayne coughs. “Hey, the hell’re you-“

He stares.

Tears well in his eyes. “Eddie?”

Eddie hugs him. Wayne wraps his arms around him and hugs back.

“They told me you were dead.” Wayne mumbles into his hair. “That little friend of yours, Dustin. Said you were a hero.”

Eddie nods against Wayne’s shoulder. “Should’ve seen it, Wayne. Played the most metal concert of all time.” He knows they probably look strange, sitting in the middle of a scattered sidewalk, torn pieces of Eddie’s own MISSING posters scattered around them.

Eddie has never once cared what anyone else thought, besides Wayne.

He feels like a four-year-old again, sitting against Wayne’s side as he cries and asks when his mother will come back. Wayne hadn’t said much, but he’d run his fingers through Eddie’s knotted hair until Eddie cried himself to sleep.

Wayne’s running his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

“Your shirt.” he whispers, and Eddie looks down. A rust-red stain has spread across the whole of his Hellfire shirt.

“It’s alright.” he says, reassuringly. “I’m not even hurt much.” It’s not a lie at all. Whatever Hawkins did to him, he feels better than the day he was born.

Wayne’s fingers tremble, and he glances over Eddie again, drinking in the sight of him.

“C’mon, kid, my back can’t take this.” he whispers, still gripping Eddie’s arm when they stand up. Like he thinks Eddie will vanish if he lets go.

They wobble unsteadily to their feet, and Wayne reaches in his pocket. “Dustin gave me this,” he says quietly. He pours Eddie’s guitar pick necklace into his cupped hand. “Figured you’d want it back.”

He’s trying to play it off, pretending like he wouldn’t have wanted to keep the necklace, but Eddie can see right through him.

If Eddie had really died, Wayne would have carried this thing around for the rest of his life.

“Thanks.” He clips it back around his neck, feeling instantly more comfortable as the familiar weight of it falls against his chest.

There’s a nicer looking pickup truck parked by the curb. Nicer than Eddie’s old van, anyway. To Eddie’s surprise, Wayne unlocks it.

He ushers Eddie into the car. “Government put me up at this hotel just outside town.” he says, sliding into the driver’s seat of the unfamiliar car. “Since the trailer’s torn apart ‘n all.” He pats the dashboard. “Truck was from the government too. Guess they really want me to keep quiet.”

Eddie buckles himself in. He normally wouldn’t bother, but he’s had enough near-death experiences this week.

The ride is silent, but Wayne keeps glancing over at Eddie as they drive.

A movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention as they near the edge of town.

A young girl stands there, arms crossed disapprovingly.

“Pull over!” Eddie says quickly. Wayne jams the brakes and looks at him wide-eyed. Eddie unbuckles and sprints over. “Lady Applejack! Why are you all the way out-“

He stops short.

Erica Sinclair’s outline is fuzzy, like a badly tuned TV.

“Hawkins?”

“Where are you going?” they say, and Eddie barely controls his flinch at the many-layered voices of the deity.

“My uncle is staying at a hotel out…of town.” He realizes why Hawkins is here. “Hey, I’ll come back. Tomorrow, alright?”

They glare, just like Erica would, and Eddie smiles. “Seeya, Hawkins.”

He jogs back over to Wayne, who’s looking at him, concerned.

“Sorry.” Eddie apologizes. “Saw one of my Hellfire kids.”

Wayne nods, but he’s still looking at Eddie. He starts the car again, and the two of them pull across the town border.

Eddie can feel it, when they leave the town. He gets a little bit colder, and his previously healed bat wounds begin to ache. He props his foot up on the dash, hoping the pressure will casually relieve the pain.

It doesn’t, not really, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care very much. He’s alive. Wayne’s alive. He doesn’t need much else.

Graciously, Wayne lets Eddie take a shower first when they get to the hotel, and Eddie practically dives in. He sends a mental apology to the hotel owners, because he is almost definitely going to stain this shower.

The warm water does wonders for the blood crusted in his hair and the Upside Down gunk streaked across his skin. Eddie thinks he may never leave this shower. He hasn’t been properly clean since…god, before Chrissy. Sure, he dived in the lake, but Eddie’s seen some of the shit that goes into Hawkins’ lake. He’s not counting that.

He gets out of the shower and just stands in front of the mirror.

There are no scars from the bats.

Something that almost killed him should’ve left some kind of mark. It’s like a violation of natural order that he’s unmarred from that. He pushes his hand into his side where they had been. It aches, like he’s got his finger on a bruise, but there’s no visible damage.

A droplet of water runs down his finger and drips on the floor, and he shakes himself from his trance.

He pulls one of the towels from off the rack and dries himself.

It feels like a crime when he has to slide his gross t-shirt and jeans back on. He leaves the leather jacket draped over the chair, and practically falls into the bed.

He’s out like a light.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #living hawkins au #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction

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