#WHOEVER DID THE LIGHTING ON THESE DESERVE A RAISE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mc-i-r · 7 months

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Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: okay this chapter took way longer than expected but it's done! It's here! The final chapter is Heroes is out! Thank you all so much for your incredible support through the months of writing this story. Although this is the last chapter, I do plan on doing two additional parts to this story that dive deeper into the characters. However, as of right now it's up in the air for when these will be out as college is getting busy with the end of the semester and holidays rapidly approaching. That being said, I do plan on doing them! In the meantime, enjoy this final chapter!

Tw: graphic descriptions of violence (canon typical), homophobic language (self-directed), dissociation

———

He’s been on the couch for an indiscriminate amount of time, staring at the pristine marble fireplace he desperately wants to take his nail bat to. He doesn’t remember much of how he got here, only that he was at work at some point and must have driven himself home without really thinking. Now that he puts it that way in his mind, it doesn’t sound all that safe, but he’s fine and alive and sitting on the couch.

Steve blinks back into full consciousness when he hears a knock on the front door. He blinks one, twice, three times to get rid of the fuzziness that’s taken residence on the outskirts of his vision before hauling himself off the leather sofa. He’s honestly surprised he managed to space out so long on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture, the cushions stiff from disuse over the years. It’s just begun to gain that looseness from all the kids lounging on it, but it’s still rather uncomfortable in his opinion.

Wrapping a thick blanket around his shoulders, he moves sloppily towards the door. Whoever is on the other side has grown to knocking continuously, so much so it’s beginning to give Steve a headache. No one he knows would be coming by today. It’s Sunday, meaning most of the kids are off doing their own thing with their parents or hanging out in the ever eloquent armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement. Whoever is on the other side isn’t someone he knows, so he begins to turn and head upstairs to sleep the rest of the fuzzy off before a voice makes him freeze in his tracks.

“Steve?” A deep, raspy voice tinged with panic filters through the mahogany doors. “Steve, I know you’re in there.”

He watches the door as he continues the path to his room, ready to avoid whatever it is Eddie wants from him.

Maybe Eddie figured out Steve’s feelings and is here to reject him. Or maybe he’ll call Steve a fag and punch him just like Steve has done to countless people back in high school. Really, he wouldn’t blame him if he did, he deserves it. Maybe Eddie’s found someone else, and is here to tell Steve it will never work out, that he’s not into guys. He thinks that one would hurt the most.

“Steve, your car is in the driveway and the lights are on,” Eddie points out, and Steve can tell he’s raising his eyebrow and giving him a look just by the tone of his voice. “We need to talk.”

Steve doesn’t want to talk. Not right now. His head is mushy and he’s not thinking straight—which he isn’t, but still—and he feels like he’s barely standing on his feet. Part of him, a bigger part than he’d like to admit, wonders if he somehow fell asleep on the couch without noticing. That’s the only way he can justify Eddie’s presence on the other side of the door and the way he was frantically knocking beforehand while worriedly yelling his name. That’s the only way any of this makes sense.

Slowly—so very slowly—he walks up to the door. He red-hued wood stares back at him mockingly, separating him from the one person he wants most. Eddie is here, just on the other side, but he can’t bring himself to reach out and turn the knob.

What if Eddie is mad at him? What if he’s here to yell and hit and hurt him beyond repair? He’s already so, so weak for him, and he knows it wouldn’t take much for him to break completely. Eddie is… he means so much more to Steve than he can properly express, and he doesn’t want to open this door and have it ripped away from him completely.

Because that’s what it boils down to, doesn’t it? If Eddie is gone, he has nothing. Sure, there’s Robin, but something about Eddie is different in a good way. A way that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside even in the dead of winter. A way that makes him blush and swoon and pine from afar because that’s all he knows how to do. A way that makes him want with his whole being. A way that he knows could tear him apart because it’s just too good to be true.

He knows he should open the door. He can reach out and grasp the knob in his hand and turn it, can swing it open and reveal the man his heart is in pieces for. He can invite him in, sit down and talk about whatever he wants to. He can have Eddie back in his life if he just. Opens. The. Door.

But Steve is a coward, and all the bravery Dustin swears he has flies right out the window as soon as no one’s life is in danger, as soon as it’s only his life in question. He takes a step back, then another, until he’s safely away from the door and next to the steps. He swallows, the sound loud in the stilted silence of his empty house, and waits.

There’s a sigh on the other side of the door before muffled shuffling and murmured curses. Steve first thinks Eddie is leaving, that he finally realized Steve wasn’t going to open the door for him and had enough, but then he hears a tiny ‘aha!’. Seconds later, the sound of a key entering the lock echo through the foyer and Steve instinctively tugs the blanket closer around him.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie in a rumpled t-shirt, sweatpants, and messy hair that looks almost as wild as his eyes. His breathing is fast and he’s disheveled to the point that Steve has the fleeting thought he just woke up and panic-ran there—which, judging by the haphazard way his van is parked in the driveway, his assumption isn’t too far of a stretch.

Even now, with his hair a wild mess and presence like a whirlwind, he's beautiful. He’s missing his signature rings, making his fingers seem longer and more delicate. The faded Black Sabbath shirt hangs from his frame, the thin fabric allowing his collarbones to show through as well as the healing scars on his chest. His hair is in a messy bun with thick strands hanging around his face he must have missed when putting it up, and Steve desperately wants to twist them around his fingers and pull.

If he lets himself think about it for too long, Steve would imagine this is what he looks like when he wakes up. Eddie would crawl out of bed no earlier than ten o’clock, drag himself to the coffee machine and sip it black and grimace—he knows he doesn’t like it black, but he still tries it every morning anyway—before adding ungodly amounts of cream and sugar before leaning against the counter as he wakes up. Steve would be making breakfast, probably something boring like eggs and bacon, and smile when Eddie wraps his arms around his waist from behind and kisses his shoulder. He’d have a low morning voice, something husky and rough from years of smoking, and Eddie would perch his head on Steve’s shoulder to watch him cook. They’d sneak kisses the whole time, and Eddie would try to steal bacon off the plate even though it’s still hot and he would burn his tongue and complain about it for the rest of the day. Steve would suggest he kiss it to make it better, and they would end up making out in the kitchen while their food grows cold.

He’s pulled out of his daydream by the sound of metal scraping against metal. Eddie is focused on getting the key back out of the lock, and Steve knows he should tell him that the spare has a habit of sticking since it’s rarely used but no words escape him. He shuffles on his feet instead, willing his heavy limbs to move forwards. The movement catches Eddie’s attention, and he immediately stops fiddling with the lock to look at him. His eyes are wide, and a little glassy, and he instantly takes his hands off the knob to drop them at his sides.

Now that those doe eyes are looking right at him, Steve finds a whole avalanche of words threatening to tumble out; ‘You’re pretty’, ‘hey, Eds', and ‘I really like you’ being the top contenders. Instead, he lets out a meek “hi”.

Eddie grins, just a little nervous thing, and Steve wonders what he was even worried about.

“Hiya, Stevie,” he greets. He looks over at the door and winces. “I used the spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s what it’s for. Sorry I didn’t let you in.”

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie,” Eddie assures. He finally pulls the key out of the lock and shuts the door behind him, leaning against it as he looks at Steve. “As nice as it is in your fancy foyer, I think we’d both rather talk somewhere a little more comfortable, don'tcha think?”

His words kick Steve back into gear and he gestures with his head to the living room. Eddie brushes against him as he goes to sit on the couch and Steve tries desperately not to flinch at the sudden contact and rush of heat he feels at the slight touch. Eddie sits on the couch with a huff and Steve stands to the side awkwardly, looking down at his feet and the ornate carpet instead of those big doe eyes he constantly gets lost in.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Steve offers, still not looking up. “I made some cookies yesterday if you want some— at least, I think it was yesterday—“

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, cutting him off and sealing his lips closed. He wordlessly pats the empty seat beside him on the sofa, raising an eyebrow in silent command. Steve looks at Eddie, then at the seat, and back again. It’s hard to tell the expression on his face and what exactly the other man is feeling, caught somewhere between concern and this gentleness he’s rarely seen.

Steve sits next to him with a quiet huff, subconsciously tugging the blanket around his shoulders until it’s just under his chin. He stares at the pristine brick underneath the fireplace, eggshell white and void of ash smudges or scratches. Steve has never seen an actual fire in that fireplace, only the styrofoam logs his mother had shipped to the house to look realistic without making a mess. He counts the rows, then each brick within the rows and the frame around them until he concludes that there's fifty-six bricks in the fireplace. It’s an odd number to end on but surprisingly even. He briefly wonders if his parents intentionally ended the brick count on an even number or if it just happened that way.

Eddie clears his throat next to him and Steve startles a little, breaking out of his brick-focused revere to glance at the man beside him. He looks nervous, hands twisting together and fingers tracing the empty space where his rings usually sit. Steve thinks that if Eddie had remembered them, he’d be twisting the heavy rings in their silence.

“We need to talk, Steve,” Eddie repeats. “This… this thing has gone on for way too long and we need to set the record straight.”

Steve holds back a snort at the word ‘straight’, feeling at this moment anything but. He can feel Eddie’s body heat even from the other side of the couch and part of him is screaming at his hands to reach out and touch. But, Eddie is here to talk, not touch, so he keeps his hands to himself and stiffly nods.

At least he has the decency not to say what Steve did wrong to his face. That small bit of mercy warms something within him even though he knows the following conversation will rip it apart. Eddie is going to tell him that it’s not worth it, that Steve isn’t worth it, and that he should stop trying to make amends because it’s never going to work. Eddie will never like him, that's a given fact proven time and time again by the cut-off comments and sideways glances and aborted touches.

He tears his eyes away from where they’ve focused back on the fireplace, choosing instead to look down at his lap. It’s better to rip the band-aid off early, just get straight to the point instead of beating around the proverbial bush. Steve takes a breath then releases it slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment while gathering his words.

“You don’t have to say it, Eds,” he murmurs and fuck, he didn’t mean for ‘Eds’ to sound so soft. He can’t help it though, not when the boy he wants is leaving him before they’ve even had a chance to be together. “I already know.”

He feels more than sees Eddie freeze beside him, stiffening up as if he was suddenly turned to stone. Wide brown eyes are turned his way and Steve can’t help but glance at them once more while he’s still allowed. They’re more shiny than usual, bouncing over Steve’s face like two rocket-powered pinballs.

As the silence stretches on, he can tell Eddie won’t be the one to fill it. That’s okay, really, because he needs to explain himself. Might as well get it out in the open before all the yelling starts and he shuts down completely.

“I know you don’t like me,” Steve starts and Eddie immediately makes a noise of protest. He glances at the other with pleading eyes and a small, sad smile. “Can I get it all out before you say anything? I just… I need to say this without any interruptions.”

Eddie immediately nods, miming zipping his lips closed, locking them, and throwing away the key. Steve can’t fight the smile that forms on his face at the action, finding the little show of childishness endearing. It’s nice to see Eddie act more like himself after everything, even though the circumstances are less than ideal.

“Thanks,” he says. Steve takes a breath, closing to look down at his hands rather than at Eddie. He squeezes them together, watching as his knuckles and the tips of his fingers turn white with pressure.

“I know I’ve been too clingy with the group lately and was pushing people to hang out with me. I…” he trails off, huffs. “It sounds bad but I usually don’t notice how I’m acting until someone points it out, and… and I realize now how I’ve been and I promise to leave them alone.”

Eddie shifts beside him, scooting closer to his hunched form on the couch. A hand enters his periphery, but Steve keeps his own firmly planted in his lap. He begins picking at the skin beside his nails, a nervous habit he can’t quite get rid of, to take his mind off the man next to him.

“I have one condition though,” Steve requests. He starts, pauses, and when the words get caught in the back of his throat he resorts to nervously rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. He needs to say them, needs Eddie to know, but the words just… won’t come out.

A slender hand moves over his and settles softly over his twitching fingers. Steve stops picking at the contact, the touch freezing him and filling him with unbearable warmth at the same time. He doesn’t look up, afraid to find the annoyance that’s most likely there at his repetitive movements, and instead lets the touch wash over him. It travels up his hands, through his arms, and bee-lines for his fragile heart. It travels up his neck, unsticking the words there and giving them new life.

“Promise me you’ll take care of the kids, Eds,” he croaks out, voice suddenly raw and fragile. “Take care of them and of yourself too, okay?”

There’s silence after his request but Steve doesn’t dare move. His eyes never travel up to look at Eddie, and he doesn’t think he has the right to. He doesn’t want to see the discontent on his face, or the satisfaction or acceptance or happiness or whatever it is at the thought of never having to see Steve and all of his bullshit anymore.

Instead, he focuses on the hand over his, his eyes tracing the divots of the knuckles and the faint freckles found there. He counts the visible veins and follows their path upwards. He watches the tendons flex as Eddie taps his hand twice, the motion so deliberate it causes Steve to look up at him on instinct.

The expression he finds there is not what he was expecting. His eyes are wide and glossy, the deep brown shining a little in the midday sunlight. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are a thin line. It’s an expression Steve’s never seen before, one that doesn’t feel right on Eddie’s face. He looks… in a word, Eddie looks scared.

That quickly changes, however, when Eddie roughly shakes his head from side to side—fluffing up his hair in the process—and looks at Steve with concern. He points at his mouth and Steve only quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what that means—“

He’s cut off by Eddie shooting off the couch, looking left and right before falling to the ground on his knees with his back to Steve.

“… Eddie?”

Steve is ignored as Eddie stretches his arms out and pats the rug as if looking for something. Steve’s two seconds away from joining him on the floor when Eddie makes a triumphant noise and stands up, turning back to Steve and holding up his hand with his fingers clenched around… nothing.

There’s nothing in his hand but Eddie still brings it up to his face and just then, Steve realizes he was looking for the invisible key he threw away earlier. Eddie mimes unlocking and unzipping his lips, and Steve finds the whole action so ridiculously Eddie that he can’t help but shed a ghost of a smile.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmurs, a hand coming up to rest on Steve’s cheek so gently it makes his chest hurt. Eddie flicks his eyes between Steve’s, the deep brown reflecting some of the light from the open window. This close, Steve can see small swirls of yellow within the brown, like golden leaves passing by warm bark as they fall in autumn.

Eddie wipes under his eyes with his free hand, and Steve can feel wetness drying on his cheeks. He didn’t realize he was crying, but Eddie’s gentleness makes more sense now. He smiles at him, a sad little thing that has no right being this beautiful on his face, as he pushes some of Steve’s admittedly flat and greasy hair out of his eyes.

His hair is getting long now, falling just at his shoulders, but he has no desire to cut it. Sure, it gets in his face all the time and he has to use the little claw clips he stole from Robin to keep the shorter pieces back when he gets hot but cutting it… it just doesn’t feel right anymore.

Maybe it’s because his parents aren’t here to tell him he looks bad with long hair, and that he should cut it before people start “talking”. Maybe it’s because it’s new and Steve liked how long his hair had gotten when he worked at Scoops but had cut it when Robin did so they would match. Maybe it’s because he feels more himself when it’s long, like he’s letting go of the pretty boy jock of the past and finally being himself. Or maybe—and more likely—it’s because he stopped caring about what he looked like since no one was around to see him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve freezes. Blinks. Opens his mouth once, closes it, repeats the process.

Because in what world would Eddie Munson need to apologize to him?

Steve is the one who fucked up. Steve is the one who pushed everyone away, who was too much. Steve was the harbinger of his own self-destruction. It was always Steve, Steve, Steve—

“No, Stevie—“ Eddie begins, then cuts himself off. His hands grip Steve’s face tighter, small in pressure and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Don’t do that. I know what your head is telling you, sweetheart, but let me explain before you come to any conclusions, yeah?”

And Steve… he doesn’t know what to say. No one has ever noticed him like this before. Has never shown it even if they had.

“It’s—It’s okay, Eds, you don’t—“

“No, I do, Steve. I need to explain, okay? Will you let me?”

Eddie is asking Steve for permission. Is asking for time, for a chance, and Steve has no other choice but to grant him his wish. He nods in Eddie’s hold, shallow but meaningful all the same. Eddie smiles that sad smile, the one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and shifts so his whole body is facing Steve. Full attention is drawn to him, consuming him, and Steve only sits. Watches. Waits.

“Just… When I tell you, will you promise not to be mad?” Eddie scrunches his face like he’s waiting for a verbal assault, like he’s waiting for Steve to say ‘no’. He doesn’t know if he could ever be truly mad at Eddie, doesn’t think a bone in his body could hate the man before him.

“Eds, I could never hate you,” he murmurs. “I promise, I won’t be mad.”

Eddie huffs, something akin to a laugh and a sigh, and looks down at his lap. His face is colored with sour sadness, something that has died long ago and turned rotten.

“I don’t know if you can keep that promise, Steve. Not for this.”

“Eddie, look at me,” Steve asks, and Eddie does as he’s told. He looks right in his eyes, holding eye contact, and says, “I promise I will never, ever hate you.”

Eddie nods, takes a breath and Steve can feel the slight tremble of his hands.

“As much as I regret the truth, your soulmate is the main reason I’m here right now,” he begins, smiles to deflect and rolls his eyes. “Robin practically burst into my trailer to tell me to get my shit together and she was right because Steve… Steve, I was a mess.

“I could barely function. I’d spend all day in my room, playing songs over and over and over again until I heard them in my sleep because I couldn’t let myself give in to what I wanted most.”

He doesn’t say it, not explicitly, but Steve knows. He knows, because he feels the same thing. That unbearable need to be with someone, the near possession that sinks down to his core and forges iron bars in his bones. The weight that settles in his stomach when he’s without, when he’s alone. He knows, because he’s felt that way about the man in front of him everyday since March. Since senior year. Since goddamn high school—

“There’s this person,” Eddie confesses. “I’ve found someone that makes me really happy.”

The world stops. Time slows. Steve feels his heart pause in his chest, feels it skip a beat. His body grows cold and washes from head to toe, the iciness reverberating in his bones. Eddie’s found someone. He’s found someone that isn’t Steve.

It’s the worst case scenario. Eddie has found someone and is here to let him down easy. His visit makes more sense now. Eddie has figured out his feelings and is here to reject him. Reject him because Eddie’s with someone else—

“Oh,” he breathes out. He can feel his head start to float, can feel his mind slipping away because it doesn’t want to think anymore, doesn’t want to accept that Eddie doesn’t want him. The fuzziness returns, clouding the edges of his vision.

“Can I tell you about them?” Eddie asks, like they’re friends. Like they regularly tell each other about their crushes. Like this is just.. like it’s fun. Steve only has the strength to nod.

“They’re beautiful,” Eddie starts. “They have silky brown hair and tan skin, marked with cute little moles and an array of scars. They wear these tight little Levi’s that drive me crazy, I mean it’s downright sinful.

“More importantly, they’re sweet. They always put others before themself, always asking how everyone else is despite no one ever asking how they are. They give out rides and take people wherever they want, no matter what. They’re a little bit of a pushover, but it’s only because they love people so fully and wholly that they can’t help it.

“This person… I think they’re it for me, Stevie,” Eddie finishes. “I think I’ve found the one.”

The words hit him like an out of body experience, like he’s watching himself have this conversation without having any conscious input. It doesn’t feel real. Steve can’t feel the couch underneath him or the blanket around his shoulders, just as he can’t hear the words from Eddie’s mouth or the meaning behind them. His brain stopped working when Eddie confessed and now he’s running on autopilot alone.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” he pushes out with a smile, a fake plastic-like thing that feels heavy on his face. “I hope it works out for you two.”

“Me too. This person means a lot to me, you know.”

He doesn’t, and he really doesn’t want to. Honestly, Steve just wants this conversation to be over so he can crawl in his bed and decompose for the next month.

“I’m glad.” He’s not.

“The kids love them and so does Robin. They make us feel complete, and without them we’re a mess.”

Those words wake him up a little. They’ve already met the kids and Robin. They fit just as Steve didn’t. They complete the puzzle of the full family picture, one without Steve in it. They’ve replaced him. They don’t need him. They’ll never need him, he’s just—

“It’s good that they’ve found someone. They need someone like that.”

“Yeah, Stevie, they do,” Eddie says quietly. “But I did something that made them go away, and I’m trying to get them back.

“See, I thought that if I kept myself away, that my feelings would go away too. But uh…” Eddie looks down at his lap and huffs. “My feelings are still here and all I did was push away the person I wanted most.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you,” he assures, even though the words feel like ash on his tongue. “If they’re any good, they’ll understand.”

Eddie looks at him then, his dark brown eyes boring into his. Steve looks back, flicking his eyes across his face as if it holds the secrets to the universe. As if Eddie’s face will tell him what he’s supposed to do next.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Understand,” Eddie supplies. There’s a small, sad smile on his face as he tilts his head. Steve furrows his brows.

“Why would I need to—“

He pauses. Rethinks Eddie’s words.

“…Brown hair and tan skin… moles… scars… rides… pushover”

No. It can’t be him, it can’t. Steve can’t listen to Eddie’s loud music for more than a few minutes before getting a migraine. He’s got no experience being with a guy and has only just recently accepted that he’d like to be with one. There’s no way Eddie could be talking about him because he isn’t special, isn’t someone Eddie would like. At least, not like that. Steve is just Steve, and Eddie is so… so Eddie.

But Eddie’s looking at him with that look, the one he gives when he’s trying to tell him something without actually saying it. His doe eyes are staring at him full force, working overtime to tell Steve something he can’t quite understand.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow and something clicks. Puzzle pieces start to fall into place.

But… It can’t be—

“Me,” Steve whispers. It’s a small, broken thing, like a butterfly with a busted wing. Beautiful but tarnished, alive but not whole. Eddie only smiles, this one less sad and more soft.

“Yeah, Stevie, you,” he whispers back, just as quiet. “Staying away from you was the hardest thing I ever did, and I will spend the rest of my goddamn life regretting it.”

It doesn’t make any sense why Eddie would stay away when they’ve both been pulled together like two dying stars in a collapsing universe. Steve thought he was alone in his wanting, in his pining, but Eddie had been right there with him and that… that is terrifying.

He wants to scream at him, to yell and ask him a million times ‘why?’. He wants to punch a fucking wall. He wants to beg and plead for an explanation. He wants to cry, and maybe throw up a little. He wants to collapse in Eddie’s arms and be held, be kept safe, and he doesn’t ever, ever, want to leave.

Pressure on his face makes his eyes drift back up, unaware they had wandered elsewhere until Eddie coaxed them back to him. He thinks that every part of him will always drift back to Eddie somehow, like he’s the beacon Steve will forever be drawn to. A hand slips off his cheek, fits right over one of Steve’s like a missing puzzle piece. Steve turns his hand and slots his fingers between Eddie’s.

“I never hated you, Steve. Never,” Eddie confesses, cheeks catching a rosy glow as he looks down at their hands, fingers entwined. “It was uh… the opposite, actually.”

There’s an implication there, a little snippet of what Eddie’s really saying. ‘I like you, Steve, I’ve always liked you. I lo—‘

Steve squeezes his hand, rubbing his thumb along his knuckles and causing a smile to form on the others’ face. It’s small, shy like Eddie doesn’t know it’s there. He looks up then, eyes deep brown and yellow, and he’s beautiful but Steve feels like he’s dying all the same. Like Eddie has the power to keep him alive or kill him in one breath. The truth is, he does.

“I’m a coward, Stevie. Always have been,” Eddie huff a humorless laugh, more of a rush of air through his nose than anything. “I did what I always do. I ran. I ran from you.

“Not because of anything you did, mind you, but because I didn’t want to admit to whatever was—is—all up in my head. I didn’t wanna show too much and make you uncomfortable because I know how you are with touch sometimes and I didn’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself.

“I mean, god, do you know how many times I had to literally sit on my hands to keep from running them through your hair or holding your hand or doing the cheesy fucking yawn-and-stretch move?” He confesses, and the absurdity of it makes a loud laugh burst out of Steve’s throat. Eddie’s got a real smile on his face this time, one that’s happy, and maybe a little teasing. “I’m serious! I’m surprised no one caught me looking at you. I mean, I was always looking, Stevie, but I knew I could never touch—“

“You could’ve,” Steve interrupts, feels it’s important. He needs Eddie to know. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“You would have minded, Steve,” he insists. “I didn’t want to give you a friendly pat on the back or clap your shoulder. I wanted—I still want—something you don’t want to give me.”

“How do you know? How do you know I don’t want you to give it, Eddie?”

“‘Cause you don’t like me like that, Steve,” he says with a sad sort of confidence, like he knows it for a fact. Like Steve doesn’t feel the same and he—

Oh.

Eddie doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know what Steve’s feeling or what he’s been going through because he doesn’t believe Steve could ever want him back. This isn’t a mutual confession, this is Eddie bearing his throat at Steve in an attempt to bring him back. This is self-sacrifice, martyrdom at its finest.

This is Eddie planning a second suicide.

“By ‘that’ I mean gay, Steve. I’m… I’m gay,” Eddie confesses, but Steve is so wrapped up in his own mind that he can’t say what he wants to. He wants to smile, thank him for sharing, assure him that nothing will change between them—unless they want it to—and hug him because telling people is hard.

But no words come out, and he’s stuck in Eddie’s gentle hand on his face and big brown eyes locked onto his.

“And I really hope you’re okay with it because I can live with not having you like that, I have before and I can do it again, but not having you at all is something I can’t survive. Something I won’t survive. Hell—I barely made it through staying away for as long as I did.

“Steve, I sat in my van multiple times over the past few weeks contemplating if I should come over to your house or not just because I missed you,” he exposes, mouth forming that beautifully sad smile. “But I went back inside every time because it was pathetic, I was pathetic.”

Eddie looks down, then immediately shoots his head up with wide eyes bouncing between Steve’s.

“Shit, now that I say that out loud it sounds incredibly creepy. Fuck… I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, I mean it wasn’t that often anyway and I never—“

“Eddie.”

His mouth shuts with an audible ‘click’, and Steve winces in sympathy. His wince turns into a hesitant smile, however, as he raises a shaky hand to cover Eddie’s on his cheek. He leans into the touch—probably more than he should—and watches the way Eddie’s eyes widen a little.

“You don’t hate me?” Steve mutters, those four words loud in the silence of his empty house.

Eddie shakes his head rapidly, reminding Steve a little bit of a puppy. “Like I said, Stevie, I could never hate you.”

He can’t help but scoff and roll his eyes, remembering the various lunchtime speeches the other announced to the cafeteria in high school about social hierarchies and sticking it to The Man.

“I’m sure you hated me in high school, Eds,” he counters.

Instead of agreement, Steve is—to his surprise—met with a very flustered and red Eddie. He’s ducked his face so it’s partially hidden behind loose ringlets of hair but Steve can still see the redness high on his cheeks. He won’t look at him, won’t lift his head, but something tells him it’s not because he doesn’t want to.

“Holy—“ Steve huffs a shocked laugh. “Edward Munson, did you have a crush on me?”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans, covering his face with both hands and shaking his head. “You’re going to be so annoying about this, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies innocently, a smirk firmly lodged on his face.

“Is it really that surprising?” Eddie asks rhetorically. “I mean, how’s a queer kid in small town America not gonna have a crush on the incredibly hot co-captain of the swim team with his tight little speedos and smarmy wink that makes everyone wanna drop their panties for him?”

Steve rolls his eyes but leans in a little and drops his voice just to tease him. “Did you want to drop your panties too, Eds?”

Eddie goes scarlet as he shoves Steve’s face away half heartedly. Steve cackles, unable to help it when Eddie flops back dramatically with an arm thrown over his face like a distressed damsel.

“But seriously,” Steve asks when his laughter has died down. “Why did you have a crush on me? I was a total douchebag.”

Eddie looks up at him from his slumped position on the couch and shakes his head as he sits up. “You were different.

“I could tell you didn’t enjoy what you did in school. You didn’t like being mean to people, didn’t like being cruel, and you always had this… this sympathy for people. People like Tommy and Carol and fucking Billy Hargrove had this hunger in their eyes but you… you never did.

“You were different from them. You were better, good. Even back then,” he insists. Eddie scoots closer and rests his hands on either side of Steve’s face, cupping it gently like he did earlier. He locks their eyes.

“You’re still good, Stevie,” he whispers and tilts his head with a smile. “Think you’ll always be good.”

There’s that word again. ‘Good’. Something he strives to be but can never quite reach. It’s like waking up from a dream and forgetting the details. They’re right there, just out of reach, but no matter how hard you try they always slip away.

His eyes begin to sting and water, salty droplets resting on his lower lashes and falling down his face as he blinks. His chest feels tight, like all the air was pushed out of his lungs and he can’t quite fill them up again. No one has ever told him that before. No one has ever looked past the shell forged of bitchy attitude and sarcastic comments to see what’s underneath and liked what they’d seen.

Eddie has looked now. He’d taken a chisel and hammer and patiently chipped away until Steve cracked, until his shell opened up and Eddie was allowed to look inside.

He can feel the way his mind floats away, how he recesses back into his head but not because he wants to. His emotions are a lot on their own, but coming out all at once like this is too much for him to handle.

He vaguely registers the way Eddie’s eyes blow wide and how carefully he wipes away his fresh tears. His mouth is moving, saying words Steve can’t hear as he falls apart. He can’t help the broken sob that climbs its way out his throat, nor the way he tries to duck his head to hide his face. Eddie won’t let him, however, and instead tugs him closer. An arm drops down around his waist and pulls, moving Steve in Eddie’s lap in one fluid motion. Eddie’s other hand gently coaxes his head to land in the crook of his neck, leaving Steve feeling safe and held in a way he’s never experienced before.

Heaving sobs wrack his body, forcing shudders that go down to his bones to ripple across his skin. Weeks, months—hell, years—of pent up emotions are flooding out now, soaking Eddie’s shirt and skin. He’s being loud, hiccuping and sniffling right next to Eddie’s ear but the other just holds him. He holds him in a way that’s protective, like Eddie’s trying to shield him from all the pain and hurt in his past. Like holding him could make it all go away. Steve desperately wishes that were the case, that he could leave all of it behind like he wants to. But he also knows it’s not that simple, that his pain won’t go away with one hug or a single kiss no matter how much he hopes.

He can feel the vibration of words underneath him but his brain can’t quite comprehend them. A hand is carding through his hair, gingerly detangling it and pulling ever so slightly. The pressure on his scalp helps him focus a little, brings him back into his body where crying had taken him out. Eddie is rocking back and forth and doesn’t stop when Steve calms down.

Steve goes to pull away, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what that was—“

“Shhh,” Eddie cuts him off, both arms around his waist now and holding him in place. “It’s okay, Stevie, you clearly needed a good cry. Just didn’t know I’d be the one to instigate it.”

A laugh escapes him, Steve rolling his eyes as he shoves at the man beneath him playfully. He doesn’t get up, however, feeling safe in the arms that hold him in place. Eddie wipes away the rest of the tears drying on his face, giving Steve that small, private smile he’s only seen a handful of times. One he knows is just for him.

Eddie’s hand doesn’t leave his face and instead settles for brushing oily strands of hair back in place. Fingers linger on his cheekbones, tracing under his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. There’s a scar there on the bridge from where Jonathan had busted it, and later Billy added on by breaking it. His nose sits a little crooked now from not being properly healed, but Steve really couldn’t care less. Doesn’t think it matters much anymore, as it doesn’t seem to matter to Eddie either. Eddie’s eyes are soft, the corners of his mouth turned up just a little.

“What’s on your mind, Eds?” He whispers, voice strained from crying. The hand tracing his face pauses.

“Just thinking about you…” Eddie confesses, smile widening. “Even with your face blotchy red and puffy from crying, you’re still beautiful.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blush, face turning red as Eddie laughs.

“It’s true!”

“Is not—“

“No, I’m totally right.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve rolls his eyes before closing them for a moment, letting himself smile. The tightness in his chest has dissipated now, his lungs free to breathe. He leans back slightly, just enough to find and play with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie’s hands squeeze his waist, making him look up. “What’s on your mind, Stevie?”

Steve huffs a laugh at the repeated phrase. “Where to start…”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Eddie assures. Steve takes a breath.

“I can’t believe this is real, Eds. That you’re… you’re here and holding me like I’m special,” he begins, focusing on his hands playing with Eddie’s shirt hem instead of the man himself. “I didn’t think anyone would hold me like this—would even want to—much less you.”

“Why not, Steve?” His voice is gentle, coaxing. Steve hesitates to tell him, to give him the truth of what he’s been feeling the whole time. But Eddie was brave, he told Steve and now it’s time to return the favor.

“‘Cause I’ve had a crush on you for months, Eds, ever since that stupid fucking boathouse. I should’ve said something but I… I was too scared to say anything. Didn’t want to get my heart broken again.

“Then you stopped coming around and hanging out and wouldn’t talk to me or tell me what I did wrong and it… it fucking hurt, Eddie,” he confesses. He sniffles, trying to calm down before he starts crying again. He’s had enough humiliation for the day, thank you.

“It hurt because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not even Nancy. Hell, she’s practically no one compared to what I feel about you. There’s this… this feeling of wholeness when I’m with you, like I finally feel complete somehow despite not even knowing part of me was missing. Having a taste of that and then losing it, losing you, made me break.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same, and I still can’t really believe that you do,” Steve admits. He clenches his eyes closed, begging the tears pricking his eyes to go away. “I’ve accepted that I’m not cut out for love. Everyone I try to get close to never seems to stick around long afterwards, so I’ve just… stopped trying.

“I told myself I’d keep my distance. I mean… I know I’m too much for people sometimes, got too much going on up in my head, and I thought that was why you pulled away,” he finishes. Eddie squeezes his waist again, causing Steve to look up and find a pained expression on his face he’s sure he’s not supposed to see.

“How… how could you think that?” Eddie questions, voice quiet like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying. Eddie cups his cheek with a soft hand, brushing his thumb across his cheekbone as he looks in his eyes. “How could you think that no one could love Steve Harrington?”

It’s a question he has a million answers to, a million different reasons for why. They replay in his head constantly, ever present and never fading. Letting it all out and telling Eddie what he can barely admit to himself isn’t something he thinks he can do.

But Eddie’s looking at him now with those big brown eyes and soft lips curved slightly downwards into a subtle frown, eyebrows scrunched earnestly. It makes all of his inhibitions melt away, makes his tongue unfreeze and words bubble up his throat.

“People have always loved the idea of me, Eds,” he begins. He smiles a bitter smile that feels like acid on his lips. “King Steve with daddy’s money to keep the liquor cabinet well-stocked and absent parents gone for weeks at a time meant an empty mansion perfect for parties. People would show up before I even knew what was going on, but I learned to go with it because saying no didn’t seem like an option. I’d just grab a bottle and hope for the best, figuring I might as well have a good time–or at least pretend like it.

“A few people looked under that facade and saw who I really was beyond all that. Tommy knew I hated parties and loud noises but nine times out of ten he was the one to invite everyone over. Nancy… I don’t think she ever really understood. Nance always had this preconceived notion about how people were and how they’re supposed to be and she couldn’t accept that I was different than that, that I diverged from her point of view.

“Looking back at it now, I think that’s a major reason why we didn’t work out. When people look at me, the real me, they never tend to stick around long afterwards. Hagan quit talking to me when I admitted I didn’t want to harass people anymore and Nancy—well, you pretty much know what happened but she didn’t stay long after I changed either,” Steve admits. He closes his eyes and leans into Eddie’s hand. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Movement makes his eyes open to see Eddie shaking his head. “That’s not who I’m talking about,” Eddie corrects as he cups Steve’s face with both hands, the empty space on his waist feeling cold in the absence of warm arms.

“The Steve I’m talking about makes soup for sick Party members and parents. He gives out little gifts he picks up just ‘cause for the kids, Robin, or me. He hates who he was in the past, and has done more than enough to make up for it—not that he needed to in the first place. The Steve I’m talking about cares so much for other people that it consumes him to the point where he forgets about himself sometimes,” Eddie pauses, and Steve takes it as an opportunity to interrupt.

“But I haven’t done any of that in weeks, Eds,” he protests. “Besides, I’ve got tons of free time to look after myself now that the kids aren’t talking to me and—“

He cuts himself off at Eddie’s wince, a harsh thing that scrunches up his eyes and makes him flinch back like he was hit. It’s enough to make him wonder if he said something wrong, something that upset Eddie that he didn’t know about. God, can he do anything right? Jesus fucking Christ he’s hopeless.

“That’s uh…” Eddie trails off, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “That’s my fault too.”

What?

“What?” Steve asks. “Wait, how?”

“The kids,” Eddie pauses to shake his head and mumble. “Stupid ones at that, came to the very misguided conclusion that I didn’t like you and started avoiding you on my behalf. Which I know is very unfair since you’ve known them way longer than I have and have literally saved their lives countless times. Like I said, stupid kids.”

Steve blinks. Thinks, blinks again. This wasn’t his fault. He did nothing to warrant being ignored for weeks, for being talked down to or excluded from conversations or gatherings. He did nothing to the kids, to Joyce or Hop or Robin or Eddie or anyone. He. Did. Nothing.

All of his paranoia, all the sleepless nights he spent roaming the streets with a bat covered in nails and dried blood was for nothing. All the worry, all the nightmares and panic attacks over the Party dying was for nothing. All the fear that turned his veins to ice and caused his words to stop was for nothing.

“Oh.”

It was all a misunderstanding. A silly little misunderstanding that made him lose his goddamn mind for weeks and obsess over every little interaction he’d had with the Party to try and parse out what went wrong. It was all because of some stupid crush and some stupid kids who like to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the long ends before meeting Eddie’s gaze. He looks apologetic, like he knows what Steve went through and is feeling it all second hand. There’s anguish in his eyes, like Steve’s pain is now his. In a way, it is.

“Steve, I’m sorry I caused all of this,” Eddie apologizes. “I’ve already talked to the kids and told them the truth—well, some of the truth, anyways—and they know what they did was wrong. I told them to give you some space though, so you’ve got a day or two before a bunch of teens bombard your house and start throwing apologies at you. Also, Robin was totally mean to me today but she knows—wait, why are you laughing?”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes his throat, or the way his eyes water as his eyes scrunch. This is all so ridiculously funny, like a sitcom episode in real life. The pining idiots have a misunderstanding and there’s despair on both sides until the truth is revealed and they confess. The ‘what if’s play through his head, but instead of worst-case scenarios it’s what he and Eddie could have been this whole time if they had gotten their heads out of their asses sooner.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—“ he cuts himself off to wipe his eyes. “I was just thinking that I should’ve kissed you when I had the chance. It would’ve prevented all of this from happening.”

It’s a delight to watch Eddie’s eyes widen and face grow red at his explanation, and Steve feels like he discovered the eighth wonder of the world when the other man lets out an honest to god squeak that has no right being as cute as it is.

“What—“ Eddie begins with a strained voice before clearing it and starting over. “What do you mean by that?”

His laughing dislodged Eddie’s hands from his face, so Steve takes the opportunity to mirror the gesture on the metalhead before him. His hands cup squishy and faintly freckled cheeks, thumbs framing his cheekbones and fingers cradling the back of his head. Warmth radiates throughout his palms and up his arms, forming a gooey smile he’s sure looks as lovesick as he feels.

Huh. Lovesick. That’s new. Wait—

Holy shit he’s in love with Eddie Munson.

The realization is not as profound as he’d thought it would be. It’s a gentle understanding, one that washes over him like warm bath water. He knew deep down that he was in love, but the label was never placed upon his feelings. But they were there, and had been for far longer than he realized.

They were there when he stumbled down the steps of the Creel house in the Upside Down, world tilting on its axis as the ground shook. There was screeching all around him, sounds of otherworldly monsters calling out in anger or fear, he didn’t know. Didn’t really care. All he cared about was getting out of that hell, getting topside with everyone still intact.

Then he heard the screaming. The crying. The call for help.

He didn’t wait for Robin or Nancy to follow him, taking off as fast as he could to where Eddie and Dustin were. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t want to think about the endless things he could find once he entered the trailer park. Didn’t want to think about Dustin or Eddie hurt, about them bleeding out or dy—

No. No, they were fine. They were fine. They had to be.

…Right?

He stumbled up to Eddie’s trailer but there was no sign of them. He looked around, confused and panicked, to find two bodies amongst a mass of withering wings. Time felt like it slowed, like the world had been put on pause. He doesn’t remember the walk over to them, only that he was repeating the mantra of ‘don’t let it be Dustin’ over and over again. But it wasn’t Dustin. It was Eddie.

It was Eddie with the same bites he himself had, except deeper and torn. It was Eddie covered in blood and the ripped remnants of his shirt with tears rolling down his cheeks. It was Eddie lying there motionless, entirely still save for the faint jostling as Dustin sobbed over him. It was Eddie dead. It was—

Eddie’s dead. He’s dead. He—

No. No, no, no, he can’t be dead. He can’t.

There’s too many things he wants—no, needs—to say. He needs to tell him that his crooked smile makes his knees weak. He needs to tell him that he wants to run his fingers through his wild, unruly hair. He needs to tell him that he wants to kiss those soft lips. He needs to tell him he’s felt this way for far too long already. He needs, he needs, he needs.

Afterwards was a blur of desperation, like his body knew it had to do anything it could to save the man before him. He remembers doing CPR, remembers the sickening crunch of bone as ribs snapped that made him want to puke. He remembers leaning over Eddie, watching as his figure distorted with unshed tears, and praying to a god he doesn’t believe in. He remembers watching his tears fall on Eddie’s face and roll down his cheek, leaving clean streaks through the blood splattered there. He remembers leaning down and pressing an ear to his chest.

He remembers the overwhelming amount of pure relief he felt when Eddie started breathing again. He remembers the pained groan Eddie let out as Steve picked him up and carried him out. He remembers that Eddie’s alive.

His feelings were there as he sat in the hospital waiting room bouncing his knee and staring at the doors Eddie disappeared behind. Dustin had been taken back a few minutes earlier to get his leg looked at but all Steve could think about was Eddie.

Was he still alive? Had they managed to stop the bleeding? Were his wounds infected? Did they have to intubate or was he strong enough to breath on his own? Was he awake? Was he in pain? Will he—

“Mr. Harrington, will you come with me please?” A short nurse called from the double doors that led into the hallway. His head snapped up to her, eyes wide like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He looked over at Robin, taking in the way she was chewing on her fingernails and nervously glancing around. He patted her knee before he stood up, wincing when the movement pulled at his wounds. He hadn’t had them looked at yet, deciding to let everyone else go first. His wounds weren’t that bad anyway, he got lucky.

He doesn’t feel like he did, really.

As he walked up to her, he could feel her eyes on him. Could feel her scanning him. Assessing him. It made him nervous. But then she smiled that polite nurse smile and it eased just a little bit.

“Mr. Harrington, are you here for Mr. Munson?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” he answered, even though he’s sure she knew who he was here for. When he busted through the emergency room doors with Eddie’s body in his arms, they refused to see him. Said they didn’t want to treat a murderer. Admittedly, what Steve did wasn’t inherently right but having the Harrington name pays off sometimes. Especially when your family is one of the main funders for the hospital.

“I can’t tell you much since you’re not legally related, but I will say that he is currently stable. Unfortunately, that’s the extent of the information I’m allowed to give you,” she informed, a sad look in her eyes. “Is there anyone we can contact who is related to Mr. Munson?”

“His uh… his uncle, Wayne Munson,” Steve supplied. “He works at the local plant if that’s any help.”

He really wished it would.

“Thank you, we’ll start trying to locate him,” she responded. “Meanwhile, I think you should have that looked at.”

Steve followed her gaze to where his wounds were, noticing that they had started bleeding again. The makeshift bandage Nancy had fastened was loose from hauling Eddie, and he’s surprised no one told him to see to it sooner.

He grimaces as he looks at her, the pain flooding back to the surface once he realized it had yet to be taken care of, and nods. “Yeah, I think uh… I think you’re right.”

As soon as he walked back out to the waiting room after he was patched up, the emergency doors burst open to reveal a middle-aged man. He was gray-headed and slightly balding, wearing an old flannel and dirty jeans as he bee-lined for the reception desk. There was no doubt that this was Wayne Munson; he had Eddie’s eyes.

The nurse at the desk was talking to him, and every word seemed to suck more of the life from Wayne’s eyes. She pointed to Steve, and he felt frozen as Wayne looked over at him. He managed a smile and a small wave, but then Wayne was walking over to him and his stomach dropped.

“The lady said you brought my boy in?” Wayne asked, but his question was more of a statement than anything. It made Steve nervous to have the man look at him expectantly, like he had answers. Like he had something to do with Eddie being where he is now. In a way, he does.

“Yes, sir, I did. We were together when the… when the earthquake hit,” he supplies, forgetting what the cover story was halfway through. He gestured to the rest of the Party sitting in the room, half of them asleep and slumped over while the rest were wound tight and pacing. “The doctors didn’t wanna see him when we got here.”

“She said you were a Harrington,” Wayne stated. His eyes were cold and hard, face giving away nothing. It made Steve’s blood freeze. His name carries a lot of weight, yes, but it’s not the good kind. People hear his name and sneer. They think of all the rich, posh assholes he’s still neighbors with. They think of his parents with their vacations and mansions and money they throw at problems to make them go away, including Steve. No one thinks the Harringtons are good people, and Wayne seems to feel the same.

“By birth, yes, but respectfully, the Harringtons can go fuck themselves.”

It brings a surprised huff out of the older man, some warmth flooding back into his eyes at Steve’s blunt remark. He puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a way that makes Steve think Wayne almost wants to hug him.

“Thank you for saving my boy…?” Wayne trailed off, raising an eyebrow and waiting. It took an embarrassingly long moment for him to realize what he wanted.

“Uh, Steve, sir. It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” Wayne finished. He gave what Steve thinks was an approximation of a smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before removing his hand. “You’re a good kid, Steve. Think you could do my boy some good if ya stick around.”

The sentiment made Steve smile a little. “If he’ll let me, I’ll stay as long as he’d like.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that, Steve,” Wayne answered mysteriously before he disappeared behind the double doors leading to the hallway, presumedly to find Eddie. Steve watched him go, watched the doors close behind his retreating back. He sighed before sitting down beside Robin, leaning his head on her shoulder and waited.

Now, he’s tired of waiting.

“It means, Eds, that I should’ve kissed you sooner,” Steve confesses, relishing in the second squeak Eddie lets out. “I should’ve kissed you in the woods in the Upside Down after you helped fight off the demobats, and again in the RV after you called me ‘big boy’—which I did like, by the way.

“I should’ve kissed you when you said to make Vecna pay, and again when you were bleeding out in my arms, and again when you woke up in the hospital because, Eds, I was so goddamn happy you were alive.

“I should’ve kissed you when I picked up the kids from their first Hellfire meeting after spring break from Hell, after they all bounded out of the trailer like puppies high on adrenaline and talking a mile a minute. You had come out with a huge smile on your face as you watched them from the front porch, arms crossed and leaning against the railing. I remember they wanted to tell me about the new villain you had come up with and you had told them to ‘give your mother some space, she’s had a long day’. Ever since then I’ve been ‘mom’, thanks to you,” Steve recalls, smiling at the memory rolling his eyes at both Eddie’s and the kid’s antics.

“I should’ve kissed you all those times you came into Family Video. Should’ve dragged you in the break room and kissed you senseless until Robin banged on the door,” Steve finishes. During his rant, a grin steadily grew on Eddie’s face, fully displaying his dimples. Steve finally gives into temptation and traces them with his thumb, easily finding the subtle divot and grazing over it gently.

“Sounds like we have a lot of time to make up for,” Eddie all but whispers, voice raspy and petal-soft. His eyes are fixated on Steve’s lips, and he can’t help but dart his tongue out to wet them to watch the way Eddie tracks the movement. Steve smiles and leans in a little.

“We do,” he agrees before using his grip to pull Eddie into a kiss. Their mouths slot together like they were always meant to, lips meeting in the middle and eyes softly closing.

Kissing Eddie Munson is like nothing he’d ever imagined. Eddie is a whirlwind, loud and brash with an attitude and sass for days. Steve thought he would kiss like he acts, thought it would be rough and all-consuming but this… this kiss is sweet. Just like how Eddie really is underneath everything else.

It’s slow and deliberate, like Eddie is trying to savor it as much as he can. Steve can’t deny that he is too, that he’s committing every second of this to memory and filing it away in the open box with Eddie’s name on it in his mind.

There’s a thrum under his skin, a growing electricity that bubbles and pops beneath his lips. It’s been years since he felt it, that intensity of a good kiss with the right person. He wants to chase it, wants it to consume him wholly until all he can feel is the zing of Eddie’s skin touching his.

Steve pulls him closer with the grip on his hair, opening his mouth slightly wider and delighting in the way Eddie’s tongue sneaks in to trace the line of his teeth. He smiles into the kiss, and Eddie does too, until they’re less than kissing and more like breathing each other in. Eddie giggles against his lips and Steve soon follows, their laughter growing until tears spring in their eyes.

Steve is the first to compose himself, dropping his arms to rest around the others shoulders and taking a breath before resting his forehead against Eddie’s. He can’t wipe the smile off his face and could never find reason enough to want to. He’s finally here, sitting in Eddie’s lap and being held like he matters.

“We’re idiots,” he murmurs, going cross-eyed as he tries to look in Eddie’s eyes. He smiles when Eddie tries to look back, going cross-eyed as well. He feels Eddie nod against him in agreement. “Total morons.”

Steve giggles at the blunt statement, closing his eyes and relishing in the fact that he has this now. This beautiful person who he can kiss and laugh and cry with and feel safe in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Robin is a saint, yes, but she—

He cuts his thoughts off with a groan as a realization washes over him, dropping his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He feels more than hears Eddie chuckle underneath him and smiles when he feels arms come up to wrap around his waist.

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” Eddie asks softly. Steve groans again for good measure, making sure to up the dramatics as much as possible.

“Robin’s gonna be so pissed at me,” he supplies.

Eddie hums underneath him. “Why’s that?”

Steve lifts his head to look at him, a cheeky smile on his face. “‘Cause I got a boyfriend first.”

It’s a half-truth, Steve deciding to play it safe in case Eddie doesn’t know. No relationship is worth outing a platonic soulmate, that much he does know.

Whether he knows or not, Eddie doesn’t show. Instead, a grin overtakes his face as a blush settles high on his cheeks. Eddie pulls back a little to get a good look at his face, eyes searching for something. “Do you mean it?”

“I’d want it more than anything in the world, Eds,” he murmurs, fingers lacing behind his neck and thumb brushing the tiny curly hairs found there.

Eddie takes a breath under him, shoulders rising with the action. Before Steve knows it, he’s being thrown off his very warm and very comfortable lap to flop against the stiff couch cushions. He’s about to protest, to ask what the hell that was for, but the sight before him makes the words die in his throat.

Eddie’s honest to god dancing around his living room, wagging his tight little ass around while fist-pumping the air. His hair bounces around and falls in his face, but nothing can obscure the blinding smile there. His dimples are on full display once again, and Steve finds that he could get used to seeing them everyday.

Steve laughs at his antics, which now include miming an incredibly complicated air guitar solo and head banging to imaginary music. This. This is the total dork of a man he managed to fall for. The thought makes him smile and watch his boy.

His boy. He likes the sound of that.

Next thing he knows, Eddie’s tackling him into the couch. Knees land on either side of his thighs and hands push his shoulders into the cushions before resting just above them. His hair tie has fallen out, causing a curtain of hair to block off anything other than Eddie’s face and making it seem like it’s only the two of them in the whole world.

Kisses are pressed to his face; both of his cheeks, the middle of his forehead, the tip of his nose, and all too briefly, his mouth. Eddie pulls back just so, the tips of their noses brushing.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he says through a smile.

Steve huffs a laugh, smiling at the man above him. “I kinda got that from the whole dance routine, Eds. Been practicing much?”

“Shut up,” Eddie groans while blushing, dropping his head so the curtain of hair hides him.

Steve tucks a chunk of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Make me.”

Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, giving him a wolfish grin that briefly makes his stomach drop and tingles spread out over his skin. The other man leans down, flickering his eyes between Steve’s and his lips before kissing him.

This one is filled with warmth, so much so it reminds him of Joyce’s kitchen at the barbecue yet far more intense. It fills him with something akin to a warm summer morning, where dewdrops still grace the blades of grass and the sun makes them twinkle in the growing light.

It takes a second for him to realize that the feeling is happiness, that kissing Eddie makes him happy. It’s enough to make him almost start tearing up again, as he had resigned himself to never feeling this way again. He only hopes Eddie doesn’t—

Eddie notices. Of course he does, he notices almost everything—almost being a big word here. He pulls away, leaning on one elbow in order to prop himself up while the other hand finds its way to Steve’s cheek. His brows are furrowed, forming that little worry line between them as he looks down at him.

“Stevie, what’s wrong?” Eddie questions but Steve just shakes his head.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eds, promise.”

Those words grant him a look, one that says the other doesn’t believe him, and Steve rolls his eyes because really, he’s fine. The affronted look on Eddie’s face causes him to laugh wetly, making him realize he must be closer to crying than he initially thought.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…” he pauses to sniffle. “I just realized something.”

“What is it?” Eddie asks before wiping a tear away from the corner of Steve’s eye with his thumb. The action makes him smile, a juxtaposition to his crying.

“I’m happy,” he confesses. “I’m genuinely fucking happy for the first time in ages and this,” he pauses and grabs Eddie’s face gently, barely cradling his jaw in his hands. “You make me happy.”

He watches Eddie go soft, his tense posture from worrying going slack. His big brown eyes fill with pure love as he leans in again, kissing Steve. That’s what the third kiss feels like; love.

It feels like coming home after a long day and cuddling on the couch, sharing lazy kisses while watching trashy TV and eating shitty fast food. It feels like dancing in the kitchen to a song on the radio, singing the lyrics to one another without a care in the world if it sounds bad. It feels like holding each other in the night, soothing away nightmares with gentle touches and soft kisses and kind words.

Steve sighs into the kiss, opening up and deepening it just a little before dragging Eddie down on top of him. Eddie squawks and flops on him, his body weight grounding Steve and making him feel present, real. He huffs, the air tickling Steve’s throat where his head landed, causing Steve to roll his eyes at his antics while pulling the blanket on the back of the couch over the both of them.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so,” Eddie mumbles, voice muffled from both the blanket and his position over Steve. Steve only smiles, a hand finding Eddie’s hair to idly play with it.

“What’s the fun in that?” He counters. He feels Eddie shrug before shuffling around to get more comfortable, ending up curled on his chest with an arm wrapped tight around his waist.

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head before settling down himself, closing his eyes and listening to the steady breathing of the other man paired with the thu-thump of his heart. As he does so, he thinks that maybe he’s not as alone as he’d thought. That maybe, just maybe, he really is cut out for love.

———

Permanent tag list: @small-teacup @estrellami-1 @merricatty @bookworm0690

Fic tag list: @madcapromantic @hannahhook7744 @h3rmitsunited @willim-billiam-byerson @stuftzombie @acowardinmordor @zerokrox-blog @my-chemical-sexuality-crisis @grimmfitzz @ladygrimheart @bestwifehaver @blanketlicker @fishinforfiish @vi-an-te @orionchildofhades @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @whackyrach @stevie-crow @missmagillicuddy @1cookieburn1 @mightbeasleep @jettestar @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @imyelenasexual @yikes-a-bee @that-agender-from-pluto @sufjuringstevens @gregre369 @sofadofax @lolawonsstuff @rajumat @ksierra674 @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window @justforthedead89 @vanillatwist @actually-races-erster @background-noise-headache @warlordless @largechaos @noctxrn-e @hope-can-be-your-sword @foundintheshallows @burningoffaroad @obliosworld @lemon-astra @midnightskeeper @venteraltus @lovelyscot @juleswashere3 @child-of-cthulhu @phantomcat94 @davekat-has-consumed-me @weirdandabsurd42 @dreamlandforever @madamonsieur-silvrene @pottenloved247 @froggistain @mycatsstolemybiscuit @greatsportsprofessorathlete @m-owo-n @pickledcarrots0

#steddie #stranger things #disposable heroes #eddie munson #steve harrington #disposable heroes mcir #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #we finally get steve and eddie talking to each other yall #everything gets resolved!#happy endings!!

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jishyucks · 6 months

Text

Gleam and Glitter — hhj

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

‣ wc: 3.4k

‣ summary: You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

‣ warnings: lots of being annoyed at the rich (even though reader and hyunjin are rich), 1st world problems, reader’s wearing a dress and heels but no specific pronouns are used (I’m pretty sure), the pair eat some desserts

‣ an: 2nd part for my True Love Gave to Me Series! It's a little slow at first but the parts near the end are cute! Just like the Mark one, I wish I could write more for these two, I srsly think I could've done more but still,,, ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

The venue was beautiful.

The ballroom was transformed into the party’s theme, Winter Wonderland, adorned with white, silver, and royal blue decorations. From the ceiling hung giant snowflakes, lit up with twinkling lights that glowed softly within the dim room.

The dance floor, placed in the middle of the room, was surrounded by tables draped in pearly white table cloths, giving it all a sleek, clean look. You can tell how much planning had gone into the centrepieces—delicate ice-looking glass sculptures of various animals. Within each of them were more lights, drawing out the details of the sculptures.

At the other corner of the room, the live band had already begun their setlist. They were dressed in blue or white, or both, as it was the theme of the party. You couldn’t quite tell what song they were playing, but it sounded nice and classy.

And guests were trickling in, entering the room hand in hand with their plus ones. You can tell that they were all in awe from the scene. I mean you don’t blame them—the scene looked like something straight from a movie. Whoever had planned and decorated the venue knew what they were doing.

The venue was beautiful… Too bad most of the people attending were snobby rich bitches who really don’t deserve anything good (respectfully).

The main purpose of the event was to raise money for charities involving children for god’s sake—sure it was okay to go all out and grab the attention of the wealthy, but it was so painfully obvious that two-thirds of the guests didn’t give a single fuck about the charities. They were just there for the publicity, hoping to look good in front of the press and it pained you.

It pained you because, although you barely had the capacity to have passions for anything, you did know that you wanted to use your money for good. And heavy on the good for children.

The party was now in full swing, guests mingling in practically every corner of the room. The live band had just been replaced with a DJ, party songs blasting through the speakers. A small part of you does want to join in, but you wouldn’t say that you associated yourself with any of the people here.

There was one person who you did love being around—your best friend, Hyunjin—but you simply weren’t sure where he had disappeared off to since you had greeted him at the start of the party.

“Shit.”

You’re not sure how you hear Hyunjin groan as he slumps in the seat next to you. He stretches his back over the chair before falling limp.

You can’t help but laugh, “What’s up with you?” You shift in your own chair to look at him, your blue evening gown getting twisted underneath your ass.

“My parents introduced me to like—I don’t know—six old business owners?” Hyunjin mutters, “I don’t even remember a single one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start working on that future CEO,” you joke, slapping his back, “Don’t wanna be the boss who calls his employees by the wrong name, do you?” You know Hyunjin hates when you call him future CEO, because, well, he doesn’t actually want to take over his father’s company once he retires. But being the only child in his family, it’s a responsibility that he couldn’t really get out of.

“No,” he pouts, lips jutting out.

You let out another laugh, this time rubbing his back to provide some kind of comfort. From a nearby group of people, you hear people laughing, though it didn’t seem genuine. You echo them.

“Y/N, they’re gonna hear you!” Hyunjin nudges your arm. “No they won’t. They’re all just caught up in their own world,” You roll your eyes. Then you dramatically say, “Oh how I wish to leave this place.”

There’s a few beats of silence between the two of you. Just by watching Hyunjin, you can tell he’s thinking, eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading a page of a newspaper.

“Would it be crazy if I asked you to run away with me?”

Your heart misses a beat, “What?”

“Run away with me,” Hyunjin repeats. He’s almost expressionless, staring back at you as he waits for a reply.

You blink at your best friend, utterly confused by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “Hyunjin, you really need to be more specific with your words.”

Hyunjin brings a corner of his mouth up towards one side of his face, trying to word what he was asking of you. It wasn’t that difficult to explain, yet Hyunjin’s short on words right now because of all the introductions he’s just had.

“Do you know what an Irish goodbye is?”

You shake your head, “No? Is that even a thing?”

“It’s when you just leave without telling anyone,” Hyunjin explains, “So… let’s leave without telling anyone.” There’s a youthful glint in his eye and you just know that Hyunjin’s ready to take off. He’s excited, even, just thinking about leaving and getting away from this place. You like the idea, too.

“And do what?” Hyunjin shrugs and your face contorts, laughing, “You’re the one who’s suggesting to leave and you don’t have a plan?”

The smile Hyunjin flashes is one that shows off his bottom teeth, brows raised and eyes widened, “Sorry, I didn’t actually think you’d consider it.”

“Do you even know me?” you scoff, “Of course I wanna leave. Anything to get away from these people.” You scoot forward in anticipation to go, but you still really want to hear what Hyunjin’s plan is.

Hyunjin searches the room as if it were going to hand him the answer. Then he hums and looks back at you, “Do you want to go downtown?”

Without any hesitation you nod, “Yes.”

Hyunijn watches as you scan the room, eyes trying to weed out your parents and his. You could guess they were speaking with people you’ve grown familiar with, so you try to pick them out, too. When you couldn’t spot any of your parents, your eyes darted in Hyunjin’s direction, eyes wide and round. “It’s clear.”

You don’t warn Hyunjin before you shoot up onto your feet, trying your best to keep discrete from any wandering eyes. The heels under your feet almost fail to support your pace, but you pay no mind, eyes dead set on the doorway furthest away from anyone’s attention. Hyunjin’s close at your tail, turning back every few steps to make sure that there was absolutely no one watching you both leave.

The adrenaline’s causing your heart to pump above the average, and you can’t help but let out a laugh the moment you reach the door, soon finding yourself in an empty corridor of the venue (save for the doorman at the front and the woman attending coat check).

Hyunjin stumbles out after you, breathing heavily, “You didn’t even tell me you were going to take off like that!”

Ignoring Hyunjin’s exclamations, you start making your way toward coat check, heels clicking against the marble floor. Hyunjin is unsure how you’re moving so quickly in heels, but he chooses not to question you.

“Y/N~” Hyunjin whines, “Slow down!”

“If we’re not quick we’re going to get caught,” you shoot a reply over your shoulder. You kindly ask for your coats, retrieving them within seconds before you toss Hyunjin his jacket. “Yeah, but we need to wait for Mr. Jang to come pick us up!”

By the time Hyunjin finishes his sentence, you both find yourselves outside of the venue, cold air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. There were cars whizzing past, all probably on their way to your desired destination. Right at the bottom of the steps was a sleek black car, similar to what your family owned, and a man who you recognized as Mr. Jang, the Hwang’s driver.

“So you did plan this!” you look over at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, but Mr. Jang will jump at any chance to actually do something.” The boy leads you down the steps and reaches the vehicle before you do. He greets Mr. Jang with a bow and then tugs on the door’s handle, opening it for you to hop in. You can’t help but giggle at the gesture, giving Hyunjin a look before sliding in. He shuffles in after you, smiling out of excitement.

“Where to, son?”

“Downtown, please.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s when you both get to downtown that you realize that neither of you knew where to go.

Sure, the plan was downtown but the city was a big place. Hyunjin should have been more specific, because right now, you were both standing in the middle of a busy street trying to decide which direction to go.

“Close your eyes, spin, and then stop when I tell you,” you suggest to Hyunjin, who’s trying to search his phone for any places you both could visit.

“How about you do it!” Hyunjin’s brows furrow and he pouts, “It sounds like you’re going to ditch me.”

“Now why the hell would I ditch you,” you sigh, “Just do it. I would do it, but I’m in heels.”

You gesture for him to go on with the action, but not before he mutters a ‘the heels didn’t seem like a problem earlier’, earning him a thwack on his shoulder.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hyunjin sticks an arm out, using his index finger to point. Then, he begins to spin clockwise. From an outsider’s glance, this man probably looked ridiculous—he was dressed in formal attire and spinning like a top, almost taking out a few passerbyers in the process.

You were finding this so amusing that you almost forgot that you had to tell him to stop.

And when you tell Hyunjin to stop, he somehow ends up with his finger just inches away from your nose. You burst out laughing, your hands coming up to clutch your stomach because, for one, Hyunjin took the challenge seriously, and two, he looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there eyes closed and pointing.

You don’t notice how Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open to see what was going on and how his taut expression relaxes the second they land on your bright figure just laughing, even if it is at his expense. His arm drops to his side, making a muted whap against his jacket. This catches your attention.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping a tear that has managed to slip out of the corner of your eye. And when Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, you take a step closer to him, “Hello?”

“O-okay, so, that way!” Hyunjin’s brought back from space, head shaking. He side steps and walks around you, leading the way down the street while making sure you were following him.

Hyunjin has no idea what just happened. It wasn’t like it was the first time he's seen you happy. In fact, you’ve always been happy around him. So, why did he suddenly freeze seeing you happy this time?

Hyunjin shakes the thought out of his head, dismissing it as the remnants of wine from the party still in his system, and continues walking down the street, just a few paces in front of you.

You and Hyunjin weave through the people walking down the street against you, hands full with shopping bags or stuffed deep into their pockets. The pace Hyunjin had taken began to speed up, as if he had spotted something over the crowd that you couldn’t quite see even with heels.

Glancing back, Hyunjin gently latches onto your wrist, afraid that you’d get lost in the sea of people, pulling you closer before he continues to step through the occasional gaps between bodies.

“Where are we going?” you say out of curiosity. Hyunjin’s too occupied to answer you, still keeping his grasp firm around your wrist. He tugs you along for one more block, and by then you can tell that he did have an idea of where you were. Hyunjin knew where to go.

You feel like you’re able to breathe again when Hyunjin leads you into a plaza, and you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. There was more space for people to walk around, buskers at each corner of the opening, and restaurants decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. Some places were blasting Christmas tunes out of outdoor speakers and, from afar, you can see Santa Claus taking pictures with children. You feel your heart fill with warmth in the atmosphere, excited to wander around and kill time with Hyunjin.

“Do you want to eat something?” Hyunjin questions. The boy halts in front of a food truck, head falling back to scan the menu. The food truck was a dessert truck—candied fruit, ice cream, cake pops, and more. You can see that they also sold drinks.

You nod, “What are you getting?”

“I’m thinking a cake pop… you?” The line shifts forward and you both take a step forward to follow.

You hum and try to decide on your own treat, “Can you get me candied strawberries, please?”

It takes a little bit to reach the front of the line and finally receive your food. When the man on the truck hands Hyunjin the food, you go to grab it but Hyunjin refuses to let you take it, pulling the treats back to his own body. “Huh?” you frown, “Do you want me to pay you back or something?” Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of the tanghulu. It was almost unrealistically red, like strawberries you’d find in cartoons.

“It’s cold,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “You can keep your hands in your pockets… I’ll hold it for you.” Then he holds the stick up to your lips, “Here.”

Your brows furrow and you groan, “Hyunjin, I’m capable of holding it myself, you know.” You’re quick to grab the stick from Hyunjin and give him a look, “But thanks anyway.”

Hyunjin grins, "Alright, suit yourself." He takes a bite of his cake pop as you enjoy the sweetness of the candied strawberries. The plaza is filled with a festive atmosphere, and you decide to stroll the rest of the area while munching on the treats.

By the time you were halfway finished with your food, you had been able to properly take in the scene of the plaza. It was actually much larger than it was at first sight, the area stretching down another block or two of buildings. It extended into a wide pedestrian mall, with shops busy on either side of the broad walkway.

Everyone there looked happy, like characters in the background of a movie. They minded their own business, stopping to watch the street performers entertain the passerbyers, or taking impromptu stops at the local shops lined up along the mall.

And though it did seem like such a first world problem for you to want to experience this without the stress that your parents constantly impose onto you to run a company, you like to think that your feelings still count. Even just a little.

“Look over there,” Hyunjin speaks up. He’s pointing further down the road and into a smaller plaza. There were people skating on a small, man-made, ice rink.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you when you take notice of the gigantic Christmas tree sitting off to the side of the rink. It had been strung from top to bottom in lights that occasionally changed colours. Ornaments decorated the tree with large ornaments, accented with ribbons and garland.

It was beautiful.

It was beautiful and you wanted to go get a better look at it.

Leaving Hyunjin’s side, you begin walking ahead of him, long forgetting the tanghulu in your hand. And just like earlier, Hyunjin calls for you to slow down, mainly because you were charging through the crowd with a pointy skewer, but also because he cannot catch up. You paid no mind to his attempts to slow you down. You were already dead set on catching a closer glimpse of that tree.

Hyunjin reaches you when you finally choose to stop. Your head falls back to look at the tree from its topper to its base, mouth falling open in awe, “Tell me why I’ve never seen this before.” Then you turn to look at Hyunjin, who’s looking at the tree himself, “How do you think they decorated it?”

Hyunjin lets out a laugh in the form of air shooting out his nose, “Cause all we know is work and school and business. I guess we never really have the time to enjoy these things, do we?” Then he thinks up a clever answer for your second question, but fails, “And honestly, I don’t know. Maybe one of those man lifts?”

“You’re right,” you laugh, “We need to Irish Goodbye more often if it means we get to see more things like this.” You glance around the area and find a bench nearby. Wordlessly, you grab onto Hyunjin’s sleeve and tug him along to sit.

You can feel how cool the metal bench is through your dress, but you lean back anyways, continuing to admire the Christmas tree. It was weird because you were feeling this sort of delight growing in your chest just at the sight of the decorated tree, though if you were asked what you were feeling you wouldn’t be able to put words to it. It was like the cherry on top of the sundae, perfectly fitting the ambience of everything that you and Hyunjin have seen tonight.

And for Hyunjin, sure the tree and the lights strung up all over the plaza were beautiful, but he was having a hard time keeping his attention on them, and instead kept taking glances your way. It was probably the fact that this happiness was different than the ones he’s seen before. It was like your inner child had jumped out, eyes filled with all the galaxies the universe held.

The corners of his lips had stretched at the slightest, eyes following in pursuit.

Hyunjin realizes now that if you were happy, he was happy. And he’d do anything to make it happen.

But he wouldn’t admit that to you just yet.

Or anyone.

It was enough for now that he had admitted it to himself.

Feeling eyes on you, you catch Hyunjin looking at you, expression soft. "What's up with that look?" you tease, your eyes narrowing. You lean over and nudge his arm with your shoulder.

Hyunjin feels heat rush to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of ears. He hopes that you don’t notice, “It’s nothing… just thinking about how we should actually do this more often.” Hyunjin pries his eyes away from you and forces himself to look at the tree which, frankly, wasn’t as pretty as you.

“We should…” you nod, “This is way better than the gala.”

Hyunjin agrees silently.

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence, just taking in the environment. It wasn’t everyday that you both got freedom like this and it was nice. And you can tell that Hyunjin felt the same.

Before you finally go to speak up after a while, your phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, your heart rate shoots up when you see it's your parents at the other end of the line. You quickly answer it to not cause suspicion, already sensing the concern in their voices.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, sweetheart, where are you?" your mom asks. You could hear your father’s voice saying something in the background, followed by another man’s voice.

"I’m still at the venue," you lie, "I just needed to get air. Why?"

“We found the owner of—” You roll your eyes. Of course.

“I’ll be right there, mom,” you say flatly, “Bye.” And you hang up.

“So?” Hyunjin questions. You notice that he had shifted in his seat to look at you, “What did she say?” He didn’t want to get you in trouble.

“She was talking about the owner of some company,” you shrug, “But that means we have to go.”

You stand up and take one last look at the tree before you have to drag yourself back into your own reality. It was good while it lasted.

Hyunjin frowns at your expression and gently takes your hand in his, “I’ll take you back here soon.”

You smile, eyes lighting up at the thought of coming back here again (and in much more comfortable clothes, too). “Promise?”

Hyunjin’s glad to see the joy instantly return to your previously deflating figure and nods.

“Promise.”

an: Thank you soso much for reading! Pls stay tuned for the upcoming members!

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #my skz writings #my writings

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athenamikaelson · 3 months

Text

War of Scars

Luke Castellan x Reader Story

Ch. 2

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of past chapter, injuries.

Word Count- 2.2k

The searing pain was the first thing I felt. A pain that started at my toes and crawled up into my head was all I could focus on. If this was hell then whoever was in charge of constructing my personal punishment deserves a big-ass raise.

I use the very little strength I have to try to open my eyes. After what feels like a hundred tries, a blinding light fills my burning pupils.

“Jesus fuck.”

A scratchy-deep voice sounds. Wait. That voice came from me. After realizing the strangled voice came from me, my attention was drawn to the dryness of my mouth and throat. I want to swallow but I have no moisture or saliva in my mouth to even try. Water. I need water.

“Gods, took you long enough to wake up.”

A masculine voice says from somewhere around me. I strain my vision to look around and feel my eyebrows scrunch together as I take in my surroundings.

Around me are about 6 other beds, like the one I have realized I’m lying on. Two of the beds are occupied, but my eyes can’t seem to focus on who. The beds stand against dark wood walls with what looks like two windows in the small room. The overwhelming smell of antiseptic and sweat fills my nostrils as I glance at the figure leaning over in a chair. Their whitish-blond hair is covering their face as they lay with their head in their hands.

“I almost had to drug her to get her to get some sleep,” I whip my head to the voice I had heard earlier, “She hasn’t wanted to fall asleep in case you woke up. She’s going to be pissed when she finds out you woke up without her being awake.”

I stare at the blond boy to my right. He’s tall and conventionally attractive. About six foot, sun blond hair, pale skin, and a boyish grin that covers his face. I go to speak but stop when the scratchy feeling in my throat comes back.

“Oh my bad dude, I bet your throat is dry as hell,” He walks over to a side table and pours water from a pitcher into a glass, “I mean not having water in three weeks will do that to you.”

He starts to walk over to me and I visibly flinch away. Fucking hell! The movement made the pain burn somehow even more than before.

“Woah, I mean to harm,” He raises his hands innocently as he drops the glass onto the side table next to me, “I’ve been your personal nurse these past weeks. If I was going to kill you, I would’ve done it while you were out of it.”

I stare at him cautiously for a moment. The smirk on his lips reminds me of the cat from Alice in Wonderland. I know I should be weary of someone new but the look in his blue eyes almost appears to sincere, and the burning in my throat is urging for me to gulp down the water. Because of that I slowly lift my left hand, not wanting to aggravate the pain anymore, and grasp the glass. I bring it to my lips and almost moan at the feeling of the liquid coating my throat.

“Woah girly, don’t drink too fast you haven’t had anything in your stomach for so long. You’ll get sick drinking too fast.”

I glance up at him slightly and then slow down my sips. It takes about another minute before I’ve finished up the glass and set it back down. The Cheshire cat of a boy grabs the pitcher and refills the glance again for me. I stare at him for another moment before a feeling of dread fills my body. Three weeks.

“Three weeks? You said I’ve been out of it for three weeks!”

He gives me a slow nod, as if scared of my reaction. I can feel my chest begin rising up and down heavily and fast at the thought. Three weeks. Three fucking weeks.

“Ok, I heal physical wounds not emotional so before you start freaking out,” He sits himself down on the bed next to mine, “Three weeks is an incredibly fast recovery time for someone who went through what you did.”

He glances at me and then drops his eyes down to my left arm. I follow his gaze to my arm to see it covered in white bandages going all the way up to my chest.

“Do you remember what happened?”

I scrunch my eyebrows together trying to piece together my memory. The car crash. She was telling me about Gods and monsters when we got hit by something. The monster, that lion-goat thing attacked me and Keiko. I killed it, I think. My memory comes in flashes as I try to piece everything together. My headache made me close my eyes in pain.

“OK, just take your time. You’re finally awake I don’t want you passing back out on me.”

Cheshire places his hand on my right shoulder in a comforting way. I open my eyes and glance at his hand which makes him take it away and bring it back to his side.

“We got attacked. Keiko and I.” I glance at the hunched-over person in the corner of the room who I’ve now figured to be Keiko.

“Is she ok?”

I watch as the boy glances over me to Keiko and his smirk deepens as he rolls his blue eyes.

“Trust me she’ll live. Koko is the most satyr I’ve ever met. Not even the Ciimera could keep her down,” His haze comes back to me and an unreadable expression comes over his face for a split second, “Speaking of the Chimera, I’ve never met a demi-god who’s been able to survive it, let alone kills it.”

My mind runs in a frenzy as he speaks. Koko? Did he really just call Keiko, Koko? What makes me freeze up though is the memory of the monster, or the Chimera as Keiko and this boy have called it. The merciless look in its eyes after it clawed up my back, the hissing of the snake as I used it to strangle the goat, and the way those merciless eyes glossed over as I impaled the beast with the goat's horn.

“I don’t understand,” I looked back at him and tears started to blur my vision as I looked down at my wrapped arm.

“I don’t understand what happened in those woods, or the whole demi-god thing,” I turn from him and then look at my wrapped arm, “And I don’t understand why my arm is wrapped since that monster didn’t touch my arm.”

I watch with blurred vision as the boy glances at my arm with a weary expression and a mix of sorrow. He gives me a small smile and stands up.

“I think you should hear this from a more friendly face,” He walks over to Keiko and flicks her forehead stirring her awake, “Not that I’m saying my face isn’t friendly, because it very much is.” A playful smirk crosses his face.

Keiko leans up and I look at her. She has a fading bruise on her left cheekbone and a small cut on her upper lip. She rubs her eyes and begins to scowl at the boy before she follows his gaze towards me. Her mood instantly shifts as she jumps up and starts walking towards me.

“You’re finally awake,” A smile comes over her light features, “You were touch and go for a while there, had everyone worried. But I told them you were a fighter.”

“That’s true she did.” The boy backs up Keiko.

Keiko turns back towards the boy and sends him an eye-roll.

“You can go now.” She shoos him away with one hand.

The boy just rolls his eyes and smiles anyway as he looks at me.

“Fine, I’m leaving. I spend all my time helping you damsels in distress and I don’t even get a single thank you,” He places his hand over his heart in a fake heart and then smiles at me, “Oh, and by the way Sleeping beauty, I’m Alastair, Son of Apollo. You should know the name of your nurse.”

Alastair smiles at me and Keiko looks over her shoulder at him.

“Don’t you have a mirror to go stare at?”

Alastair laughs as he goes to walk out the screen door.

“I actually might go walk in front of the Aphrodite cabin to bless them with my presence. The ladies have missed me since I’ve been here taking care of Sleeping Beauty. I’ll be back to check on you later Y/N.”

Alastair smirks at both of us and then opens the screen door and lets it slam behind him as he walks away.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a flirt but harmless. He should’ve been a Son of Aphrodite with the way he is obsessed with himself.”

I stare at Keiko silently as I listen to her talk about this stranger with a smile on her face. The longer I stare at the familiarity on her face though, I’ve realized that he was only a stranger to me.

I drag my eyes down to Keiko’s feet expecting to see her usual Doc Martens, but in their place are, Goat Hoaves. What the actual fuck.

“Keiko. Where the fuck are your feet?”

Pure shock must be written on my features, matching the shock I feel in my chest because Keiko sends me a small weary smile.

“Ya about that. Do you remember how I was telling you about the Demi-Gods and Greek stuff before we crashed?”

She questions me as I nod slowly.

“Good. Well, I am what you call a Satyr. I have half the body of a goat and the other half of a mortal. Satyrs are also protectors of demi-gods,” She gestures to me, “like yourself. That’s why I was sent to you last year.”

I stare at her in disbelief trying to make sense of everything she’s telling me.

“I know this can be a lot to take in and I don’t want to pressure you with everything, especially after the lightning bolt and the Chimera.”

I meet her eyes in confusion.

“Lightening bolt? What lightning? All I remember is getting attacked by the monster and then killing it.”

Keiko goes quiet for a moment and then glances at my wrapped arm.

“After you killed the Chimera I found you covered in blood. I was so worried about you, so when I saw you standing over it with the horn in your hand I was so surprised. I had lost a lot of blood myself so when I went to go to you I fell. You came to me but when you did,” Keiko stopped and I watched her chest deepen with each breath, “It came out of nowhere. A lightning strike. It was coming right at us, but you being your sacrificial self pushed me out of the way. That’s when it struck you.”

I glance down at my bandaged arm as I try to recall what she’s telling me. But nothing comes to mind. It’s like the lightning wiped my memory.

Keiko goes to continue talking before I raise my right hand to stop her.

“Did you know the whole time?”

I look Keiko in the eyes and watch the confusion enter them.

“Did you know that my parents, weren’t actually my parents? That I was some Greek freak of nature,” My voice hardening with each question, “Was it all a lie? Our friendship!”

Keiko opens and closes her mouth multiple times and I want her to lie to me and tell me that she chose to be my friend because she liked me for me. That for the first time in my life someone wanted to be my friend. But once I see the pained look in her eyes I already know my answer.

“Get out.”

Keiko stares at me and shakes her head.

“Y/N, I know this whole thing is a shock to you but,”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out!” I yell at her.

And for the first time in our “friendship,” Keiko flinches. She flinches because of me. Good. Fuck her and fuck this demi-god thing. Keiko shakes her head solemnly, then stands up and walks to the door.

As she reaches for the screen door handle, she pauses.

“I might have lied about a lot during our friendship, but I never lied to you about being your friend. I truly do care about you Y/N.”

She must be waiting for me to say something but all I do is stare at the wooden wall in front of me. I hear her let out a sigh and open the door.

“You can come find me when you want to talk.”

The screen door slams for a second time today, as the tears that were building in my eyes finally fall onto my cheeks. The truth of everything I’ve learned brings sobs to my lips and I close my eyes again hoping to wake up from this nightmarish hell.

TAGS- @luvvfromme @potatochip-111

#author #athenamikaelson #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #annabeth chase #charlie bushnell x reader #percy jackson #percy series #pjo series #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo tv show

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borntoocry · 1 year

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rainy argument with ellie

thick reader x ellie williams

a one shot where you and ellie have an argument over you defending yourself and ellie comes back sopping wet from the rain.

a/n: this is shitty. i’m like half awake and i had this idea while driving home in the rain. but here it is cause why not. i already wrote it.

warnings: cat-calling, harassment. violence (well deserved tho).

an argument had ensued between you and ellie before she went off on patrol. it was over something stupid—truly. it was evident that ellie was quite the jealous girlfriend. she hated the looks you’d get as you passed by the group of immature teenage boys that lingered by the horse stalls. you were quite… thicker than most girls in jackson. you didn’t know your mom, as she had died as soon as you were born, but you did thank her along with whoever your dad was for the curves you had. but with great beauty came great consequences.

the teenage boys that ellie hated enjoyed the sight of your body. especially in the pair of pants you and ellie found at an abandoned mall. it was hard to find pants that fit you, especially because of your thighs and ass. some might fit your thighs, maybe your ass, but the fabric around your waist always tended to flare out. but when you found that one pair of jeans while on patrol: no one could stop staring. some stares were flattering while others were pervy. and those were from the immature men in jackson.

ellie hated them so much that she’d straighten herself out whilst around them and throw daggers with her eyes; she’d yell out a, "What are you looking at?" followed by a, "You better not be looking at her ass or your ass will be the one knocked the fuck out!"

you tried telling her to stop it. looks your way would never end, unless you lost everything as soon as you turned 60 or something. you’d be this voluptuous girl guys (and potentially some girls) would, maybe, wet dream about. at least that’s what your girlfriend told you.

and to that, you’d say, "I don’t wanna think about it. Plus, I don’t care what people say or think about me. Let them think. And stare. Because at the end of the day, I’m with you. Not them."

she didn’t care about this. and her bantering continued until this morning, when one of the guys, Jack, whistled your way and asked if you were free after you returned from patrol.

yes, it was wrong, and yes, it made you uncomfortable, but you were going to tell him off. not as violently as ellie did, but you were going to defend yourself. but ellie took it into her own hands and knocked his lights out.

and so you pulled her away, shoved her towards her initial destination, and laughed in her face.

ellie raised her angry eyebrows, confused on why you were laughing. "what the fuck?" she asked. "why are you laughing? he was fucking cat calling you, YN!"

"yeah!" you exclaimed, "i know. and i was going to tell him something. but you decided to butt in and defend me when i can defend myself. i thought i told you to stop going around and knocking people out over me."

"you act like it’s no biggie that guys are harassing you," she continued.

maybe she was being serious… she was, you couldn’t lie, but you were trying to make a point. you loved that she defended you, but you needed to stand up for yourself. you needed to make it known that ellie wasn’t the only person they had to fear—it was you, too! you were capable of knocking people out, giving black eyes; you were no one to mess with. and you were a woman who doesn’t enjoy being cat-called, just like most other women. and if they were going to do so, you would give them a reason to think twice.

"i’m not acting like that. i just want you to think next time before you knock people out over me. i’m a big girl! i can stand up for myself. i can knock people out, too. i can cuss people out like a goddamn sailor."

ellie genuinely looked confused. she was a good person, yes, but she was always trying to save you. goddamn her and her savior complex.

she shrugged and threw her hands up—bloody fists and stiff fingers. "fine. sure. i’ll stay back. i just want to be there for you."

you nodded. "just fuck off, el. i’ll talk to you tomorrow."

you didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but you needed the day to think this argument through. what ellie was doing was sincere, but you also wanted to prove your point that you weren’t a damsel in distress. then again, ellie was being her protective self. she loved being your knight. so why was it that you were interfering with what made her feel safe, too?

you weren’t entirely angry, but you were annoyed. so you gave yourself the day to sit around with the children of jackson and talk your issues through with them as simply as you could. they probably didn’t understand most of what you said, but they tried to help. and that’s what mattered. you were calm and you understood how to talk your matters through with ellie.

however, your peace was slowly taken away from you as the day faded into night and ellie had yet to return from patrol. it had begun raining at around 4, and had yet to stop. you wondered if maybe she found some place and decided to sleep through the storm, but you knew she wouldn’t do that—she always raced home when it rained, she enjoyed sleeping in her own bed as it thundered outside her window.

you had them hopped onto the next possibility, which was that she was probably already home. so you walked over to her house two doors down and knocked. you knocked until joel opened to door, to which he said, "she’s not here, kiddo. not yet. don’t worry, she might be taking shelter."

you shook your head and returned home. it had been eight o’clock now and you had spiraled. you couldn’t keep still in your bed, or your couch, or at the dinner table. you walked about and picked at whatever skin you could peel until your thumbs were red and sore and your fingernails were chomped down.

you began heaving when you heard a knock at the door. you raced to it and without checking the peephole, you threw it open. the door smashed against the table beside you, knocking over a vase and breaking it open. that didn’t matter to you, though, because your heart slowly calmed at the sight of ellie standing on your porch.

she was wet—so very wet, that droplets fell around her, creating a ring that grew as she stood there longer.

"oh my god!" you exclaimed when you got a better look at her. she was trembling. "you’re gonna be sick! come inside."

"i have to apologize," she said, her voice and body shaking.

you nodded. "yes, so come inside."

she shook her head. "i have to leave you alone for the night. i just wanted to say sorry for—"

you reached forward and grabbed her arm. you yanked her forward and said, "yes, i understand, but stop being so stubborn and come inside. you’re shaking!"

you pulled in her behind you and shut the door. you didn’t stop dragging her until you reached the bathroom, where you sat her down on the toilet seat and unzipped her drenching jacket.

"i was scared," you said in a low tone as you pulled her shirt up her body. "where were you?"

"i was stuck finding something in the mall. i was there for a while and i tried taking shelter when it started raining but i couldn’t wait there overnight."

you threw her sopping shirt on top of her jacket that laid in the tub. you caressed her freezing shoulders and sighed. "what were you looking for?"

she reached a hand into her jean pocket and retrieved a green ring. it was silver band with peridot gems glued centimeters apart from each other. it was beautiful.

she grabbed your hand and slid it onto your right ring finger. "it’s real. i found it in one of those jewelry shops in the mall. i had passed by it a couple times before and i wanted to know if there was anything left behind. i searched and searched and then… this came up. in your ring size. it was the universe giving me a perfect gift to accommodate my apology."

you smiled softly. you looked down at it and then back at ellie. you lowered your head down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"i thank you for what you do for me," you said. "i just… sometimes all i want is to defend myself. people have been standing up for me for longer than i can remember and it’s gotten to the point where i’m not considered a threat. some don’t want that, but i do. i don’t want people to fuck with me."

ellie nodded. "i’m sorry. i should allow you to do that. i just like being there for you. i want you to know that i’ll always protect you."

"and i do know that," you answered. "and i love you for it. i really do, el. i just want people to know that i’m unfuck-with-able."

"and you are," ellie replied.

you smiled and dropped your lips back onto hers. you traced your fingers down her abdomen and began unbuttoning her jeans. you dragged them off her legs and grabbed the pile of clothes in the tub. you started the shower because ellie was freezing and most certainly to warm up.

you pulled her up and slapped her ass. "c’mon. get in there! you feel like death."

she flinched and rolled her eyes but hopped in anyway. she reached out a hand and shined her puppy-dog eyes. "come in with me? please. i need you to warm me up too."

it was your turn to roll your eyes. but you hopped in anyway. because you loved your knight in shining armor.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #elliewilliams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams headcanons

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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the nanny diaries ~ myg

ara's dad tries to come back into the picture and yoongi isn't having it.

✨ title: the nanny diaries (drabble series) | the way you are ✨ pairing: yoongi x single mom!reader ✨ word count: 1.5k |✨ genre: light angst, fluff / housemates!au |✨ rating: pg ✨ warnings: ara’s dad comes back into the picture for a split second, yoongi has unrequited feelings(?), protective Yoongi, reader is oblivious to Yoongi’s feelings, a small kiss on the cheek, minor language ✨ a/n: i missed nanny/housemate yoongi, so here he is <3 also, i'm sorry if the tenses change from the previous one to this one?? i'm trying something new and i'm seeing what i like better.

[ DRABBLES MASTERLIST ] | prev ~ the i-had-no-choice nanny

Yoongi watches you puff out your cheeks, almost as if you're holding your breath. You swish it from one side to the other, staring at the phone in your hand. He sips his coffee, wondering what you had in such a fuss. Your contemplation hasn't gone unnoticed these days. You’re being fairly quiet, hardly conversing with him, like you're trying to avoid him.

“What’s going on?” he asks, watching you cower before him.

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow, hardly believing you. “Something has your panties all in a twist. A new guy or something?”

The biggest sigh leaves your lips. “Nope, I wish. You remember Jake? Ara’s dad?”

Yoongi pretends to gag. “How could I forget? He’s the biggest lowlife I know, and how do you date someone named Jake and then go and have a baby with him?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed with him. “You said you’d be nice.”

“Did I though?” Yoongi teases. “What does he want now?”

“He wants to be more involved in Ara’s life.”

Yoongi tuts. “You’re kidding me, right? Now he wants to be more involved? I’m more involved than he is.”

“I’m truly grateful for that, but Jake’s her dad, and I can’t deny him wanting to be more involved.”

“Actually, you can. When he chose to leave you and Ara, he gave up that right. What kind of dickhead leaves his girlfriend and kid?”

“Yoongi–”

“What? I’m just saying that you deserve better. You and Ara deserve better than Jake.” He watches you contemplate your next move, your thumbs lightly tapping on your phone, and guilt overtakes his recent comments against the guy that left you. He stands, making his way beside you on the couch. He sighs. “It’s yours and Ara’s life, and I can’t tell you what to do. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

You turn to him, your lips thin into a closed smile, before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “You’re really sweet for caring so much about us. Whoever ends up with you will be so lucky.”

Yoongi pulls away from you, clearing his throat. “Why are you getting all gooey and shi–”

Ara’s cry interrupts your conversation. The two of you look at each other in sync, saying, “I’ll go get her.”

“Yoongi, you’ve done so much lately. Let me get her.” He nods and lets you do your thing.

The fact that you’re allowing Jake to come back into your and Ara’s life frustrates him. He watched you date the guy, let him move in, knock you up, and then leave. Sometimes, he just wants you to use your brain and think about Ara and how she’ll have to grow up with a man in and out of her life. She doesn't deserve that; she deserves to have someone love her, sings her to sleep, hold her when she is scared, and play with her–not someone who shows up when they want to. He also thinks you deserve more than just a wishy-washy man who can't commit, but he's just your neighbor turned housemate. He doesn't have anything greater to offer you.

“Jake, you remember Yoongi?” You say, standing between the two in the doorframe.

“Hey–man, what’s up?” Jake holds out his hand for Yoongi to shake, which he does with a reluctant groan.

Ara is ready to escape from your arms when Jake tries to say hi. “There’s my baby girl.” Yoongi rolls his eyes because that’s what he calls her, but he knows it’s not exclusive to him. “Where are you going?” Jake teases when Ara holds her arms out toward Yoongi.

He suppresses his smile and gladly takes Ara from your grasp, and the most obnoxious baby voice comes out of him, “Hello–why yes, we want to stay. Don’t we?” He glances at you and Jake quickly before taking Ara toward the living room. “Let’s get your shoes on, shall we? Baby girl has a big day out with mommy.” Yoongi refuses to acknowledge Jake as her dad.

You look at Jake and see him clenching his jaw when he sees his daughter with another man. “Here–take her diaper bag, and I’ll grab Ara. Go wait outside, and we’ll be there soon.”

Jake grumbles under his breath, begrudgingly taking the bag from your hand, and heads out the door.

You stride over toward Yoongi, kneeling beside him. “I thought you were going to be nice.”

“See, you keep saying that, but I never promised anything.” He makes a face at you as he finishes buckling Ara’s sandals.

“Yoongi–”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice.”

The few hours you're gone, Yoongi tries to work on his project but can't concentrate on anything. He plays the same song beat until he can't stand it and pushes his keyboard and mouse to the side out of frustration.

He shouldn't be so angry over you and Ara going out for a few hours. The two of you have done this plenty of times, but this was different–Jake's with you. Does he know what Ara's favorite lovey is and about the backup one in case the first one goes missing? A lot of things could go wrong in a short span of time.

Yoongi paces repeatedly in the living room, looking through the blinds to see if you've returned. Eventually, he gives up and falls asleep, his arms and legs crossed while on the couch, awaiting your arrival.

The digital keypad of the lock wakes him from his rest, wondering how long he's been out. The fumbling of the doorknob causes him to become flustered, pretending to go back to sleep.

"Ow–" you mumble as you enter the apartment, accidentally stubbing your foot on the shoe rack.

Yoongi chuckles quietly, turning toward the back of the couch.

"Where's your room? I can put Ara down," Jake says while holding his arms out for her. You reluctantly hand her over, hoping she doesn't wake up during the transfer. Your little chunky monkey's growing up too fast before your eyes.

Surprisingly, Jake does a good job putting her down without waking her up. You turn on the white noise, putting her favorite blanket on her before leaving the room.

"See, I'm a natural," Jake suggests, patting himself on the back.

Yoongi scoffs quietly. It's been one time, pure luck, he thinks. Imagine having to do it every day without any help.

You walk Jake to the door, and you stand before him. "Not bad for your first time."

Jake eliminates the distance between you, rubbing your arms up and down. "You guys should just come live with me," he suggests, squeezing your arms.

Quickly, you glance over at Yoongi, who's still fast asleep. "Yoongi's been good to us, and I don't think I want any major changes right now."

"Come on, baby. I said I wanted to be more involved in your and Ara's life. Isn't that enough? Don't you still love me? We're so good together."

At this moment, Yoongi wants to jump up and pummel the guy, but hopefully, you can handle him yourself.

"Don't come around with empty promises. Ara and I deserve more than that. You hung out with us once and expect me to let you back into my life? It's gonna take time before I can trust you again."

Yoongi smiles. He knew you could do it. He pretends to stir and groan to make it known that he is about to wake up from sleep.

You look over at Yoongi as he stretches his arms and legs. "You should go, Jake. I'll talk to you later."

"Babe–we're not done talking yet," Jake whines.

"She said, 'You should go, Jake.'" Yoongi pops up and deadpans to Jake.

"You heard the man of the house," you say, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms.

Jake scoffs, clenching his jaw, annoyed with both of you. "Didn't know you were someone else's bitch already."

Yoongi quickly stands. "You really should go now."

You open the door, waiting for him to leave. He tuts and mumbles and curses under his breath before walking out as you slam it behind him.

Both of you stare at each other, waiting for someone to speak.

Yoongi blinks. "What did I tell you?"

"I don't know. What did you tell me?"

"That he's a no-good lowlife who just wants to get his dick wet."

"You never said that."

"Well, we were both thinking it."

You sigh, walking over to him, sitting on the couch, and Yoongi mirrors you. "Come on, just say what you want to say. Tell me, 'I told you so.'"

He doesn't want to be right. He understands the tough situation you're in. It's not your fault your ex is a jerk. He shakes his head, "I'm not gonna say that."

"Okay, then. Thanks for putting up with him then and humoring me in my hopeless situation."

Yoongi turns to you. "Stop that. You and Ara deserve better than that guy. You guys are perfect the way you are, even if he doesn't realize that."

"Oh my god, is Min Yoongi just a big ball of fluff now?" You tease, playfully pushing him away.

"I'm serious. You're a great mom to Ara, and you should have someone who loves you and wants to take care of you."

Your lips curve into a small smile. "Thanks, Yoongi. I mean it." Your pinky is unbearably close to his hand, just as you notice his index finger stroking your hand.

He looks at you. "Don't mention it."

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff

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alyjojo · 1 year

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PAC - Your True Soulmate 😍

There is a LOT to unpack in this reading, we have 7 Piles to hopefully have a broad spectrum of different layers and personalities. I’m not personally a fan of small pile PACs like 3, it’s harder for me to resonate to when it’s so general, WHY make it easier? Go big or go home! Bahaha. I haven’t started yet, so by the end I’m sure I’ll regret this 😁 I’ve got color cards, charms, my new Creativity Oracle which I am just in love with, the whole shebang to get as many details as possible. Not everything will apply to any one person, so just take what resonates for you and leave the rest for whoever they’re for 🙏

Pile 1: Raindrops 🌧

4 Wands - Knight of Wands - Page of Coins

Regarding: 5 Pentacles

Dreaming Way: Dog rev & Ring

Oracles: Partnership, Push & Flash

Possible Signs: Taurus 💯, heavy fire 🔥 Capricorn/Aquarius with The World, Saturn & Star, Gemini with The Lovers, twice

Zodiac Message: North Node in Taurus

- Have faith in your beliefs by making the right connections.

- Do not worry about the costs of the idea in question.

- Now is the time to use the most direct way and get your ideas going.

Charms:

Bat 🦇 on Flash

Rocking Horse 🐴 on 5 Pentacles

Saturn 🪐 on The World

Diamond 💎 on Salmon Chairs

Key 🔑 on 4 Wands

Color Card: Salmon Chairs 🌷

“Come sit in my chair and feel my love”.

People, places and events are being drawn to you beyond your wildest imagination. Aim higher, for you will draw even greater experiences into your life. It is time to step up to the next level. All “things” are energy and will be drawn to you when you allow your energy to grow. The Salmon Chairs is being brought to you as a gift, to raise your faith and self esteem. It is a gentle and profound change in the way one relates to themselves, and the world. We create the life we feel we deserve. Often we feel we must do something to prepare, yet Salmon Chairs says “Stay in the light of truth, meditate, and relax - if you drink in the light and allow spiritual wealth, you will be surrounded by material wealth.” This is about subtle action, and receiving is an action. You are being told to sit still and receive the bounty that is coming to you. Salmon Chairs can also signify a love relationship in the wings, it’s your choice to receive it. It may also be a present relationship that’s moving to the next level, both spiritually and physically.

This person has very heavy Taurus energy in this reading. Even Salmon Chairs describes the energy of an Empress, which also applies to Taurus, and the North Node described here. This person will have been through some trauma or traumatizing experiences by the time you meet them. With all of the Knight and Page energy, you could meet them young, or they experienced a lot of pain while young, there’s definitely some level of trauma in this person. I kind of expected that sort of personality to come out when I chose the rainy picture, and you also may be able to relate to this person in that way. There is some level of abandonment and loss with them, they may have lost a parent, a friend, a child…can be literal or they can’t access them somehow or they may have abandoned their own child, maybe put one up for adoption or has gone through abortion due to xyz reasons. It happened to them or they did it themselves not fully aware, either can apply here. This can also just describe childhood trauma, but the rocking horse here points out a child specifically. It’s possible they’re taking care of an older child that’s lost a job, or they’re living with a child for that reason. Struggles are where they are when you meet them or a big part of who & where they are & have been.

It’s possible this person is divorced or separated from someone when you meet them. With Dog 🐶 being rev next to Ring 💍 it shows a lack of loyalty, not being able to be trusted or to trust someone else. Someone was not faithful, possibly them. They probably married very young, if married at all, rushed into it, and back out. It’s also possible they’ve done this to you, 2 Cups comes out with The Lovers, and The Star is here, there is definitely a Twin Flame dynamic with this person for someone. If so, they may have lost your trust in the past and it’s valid, but yes they are your soulmate and yes they’re coming back around. With North Node being Taurus, South Node would be Scorpio, whether that actually applies or not, it shows that while young there was more of a death & transformation dynamic to this person, disloyalty, lies, leaving things behind and avoiding the long term, future planning, or solid & stable connections. The path they’re heading towards is Taurus, stability, family, security, the home, long-term. It’s been a long process of maturing/healing for them, or will be.

These are lessons this person has to learn. With Bat 🦇 on Flash, they’ll be tapping into their intuition and may not be able to explain how they know something, but they’ll know. You may move very quickly with this person, moving in together very soon, possibly even getting engaged quickly as well. The Key being on 4 Wands can be a home, it’s like once this person knows what they want, there’s NO stopping them. Diamond 💎 on Salmon Chairs shows them as receiving bounty, money, being very successful, which is something new to them and there could be traumas relating to that too, that are healing over time. They have regrets about the past, whether they did things or had things happen to them, they aren’t totally healed when you come in but they’re heading in the right direction. There is something here about them holding back where their dreams are concerned, you could be helping them “push” towards that too, or you inspire them to take action.

Pile 2: Sunset 🌅

Ace of Pentacles rev - 4 Wands - Ace of Cups

Regarding: The World

Dreaming Way: Clover & Mountain

Oracles: Accomplishment, Secrets & Recycle

Possible Signs: Sagittarius 💯 Pisces, Capricorn & Scorpio

Zodiac Message:

Sun - Sagittarius - 9th House

- The creation of insights to understand spiritual values.

- The gaining of respect for or from the wisdom of long-range thinking or travel.

- Things brought to life or light resulting from the understanding of what is to be shared.

Charms:

Starfish ⭐️ on Wheel of Fortune rev

Sword 🗡 on Ace of Pentacles rev

Axe 🪓 on 7 Cups

Card Guard ❤️ on Knight of Wands

Sagittarius ♐️ on Sagittarius 💯

Rose 🌹 on Recycle

Color Card: Charmaine Chartreuse 🗣

“I never met a person I didn’t like.”

Charmaine Chartreuse suggests you begin finding the good in others. So much is lost when we do not appreciate those around us, for we lose the wonderful gifts of who they are. Appreciating differences will enrich your present situation. This can be a warning that you’ll lose a valued relationship if you do not appreciate what you have. Thinking the best of another person is more powerful than putting them down. Do not attempt to choose sides. Getting others to agree with you that someone else is wrong will also backfire, you may find yourself alone if you are not thoughtful. Wasting energy focusing on something you shouldn’t is also denoted here. Gossip is an indication you’re not focusing on your own life. What we think may not be the truth of the matter. Be aware now of how you speak of another, for the things you say will come back to you at this time. “Doing your own thing” may leave you lonely, and an aloof attitude may lead others to believe you don’t like them, when that isn’t true. If you’re feeling cut-off, consider that others may be waiting for you, and take a cue from Charmaine, being kind is called for from you, even if others are behaving in an inappropriate way.

This person is so clearly Sagittarius in energy that I’m kinda shocked to be honest. I knew that just with the tarot, three Sag cards, then came the zodiac message of the SUN in Sag and in Sag’s natural ruling house no less, and to top it all off, a Sag charm just in case anyone was confused 🤣 OK THEN. A major Sag placement 💯 There are other signs here, definitely more subtle, but this person *embodies* Sag energy in some way. I did notice Pisces here, slightly, but especially in this recycle card, the imagery is a Bird in the Sky and a Fish in the Sea, and I immediately thought of one of my favorite movies of all time, Ever After 🥰, and the line “A bird may love a fish sir, but where would they live?” It could be you that has Pisces placements, for some of you anyway. If not those specific signs, then the dynamic of one person initially doesn’t put many boundaries or standards in the first place, and the other person doesn’t know how to respect them even if there were, makes light of them or turns it into a joke. Initially.

This person pisses you off. You’ve wasted a lot of time on them, or you feel like you have. If they’ve tried to get at you before, you could feel they have, because forget it. In typical (not all) Sagittarian fashion, this is a typical (not all) “fkboy/girl” personality. They’re definitely a wanderer, they’ve traveled around a lot with whatever it is they do, maybe with their family. They could be foreign to you, a different skin color, nationality, speak a different language, something about them could be in stark contrast to whatever you are, which is something Sagittarius and the 9th rules. Culture! Long distances. Foreign contacts. If they’re not a Sag they could just be different. There is a feeling of freedom with this person, they won’t be tied down, no one has managed to…until you, and it won’t be easy. Or hasn’t been. One way you’ll know who this is, you’ve had to let them go before, or you did because you simply weren’t interested in all this.

Eight of Cups rev shows them making a return to your life, could be because they’ve lost a job, a home, an opportunity of some kind that’s out of their control (or destined). Wheel of Fortune rev can show bad luck, but they’ve got Clover here showing that’s not a regular thing and may be a destined/karmic event of some kind. Probably to get to you! Whatever *your* energy is, you don’t take this person at all seriously, they’re like a thorn in your side and you don’t trust them as far as you could throw them. Justifiably. But the passion is LIT 🔥 and the emotions are there, you want this person to BE trustworthy. This whole reading shows it takes effort, they’re a bit of a “project” emotionally and love is not really their forte, but they are your soulmate. They may have never even really been in love before you, or at least not in any similar sort of way. Love as a whole is not their first language.

Axe on 7 Cups is cutting off all of these other options they may have, ex’s that are “friends” or former flirty options, FWB’s, that sort of thing. The cute little Card Soldier on Knight of Wands is you having to be like absolutely not, you’re setting boundaries, and you’re not about to let this person near you period on some player bs. It turns them on, they like your boundaries, they aren’t threatened by your standards, it’s like a challenge to them & they know you’re right. Which is appealing, no? This person is going to change for you, or grow up more like. Maybe not the first time you interact with them, with there being an energy of “coming back”, but whenever they do, they’re ready for you to set your terms so they can follow along. It seems like they will only want you.

With Clover & Mountain this person could be pretty earthy and practical along with all of their natural luck, they are very clever at getting over or through issues that seem insurmountable, nothing seems to get them down or knock them out for too long, they’re a “winner” type of personality. Accomplishment reinforces that message, they could have several. Secrets feels more like past things they don’t want to talk about, not necessarily secrets *from* you. They’re just not interested in past stuff, they let it go so you should too, to them. Rose 🌹 on Recycle is them having made mistakes, broken hearts, losing and winning and learning their lessons. Starfish ⭐️ shows regeneration on a situation or relationship gone sour, it will get better. GREEN dominates the reading visually, it’s a color of grounding & practicality, and there are many plants being shown which all show growth. They’ve made mistakes, they’re learning or have learned, and will be ready for you when the right time comes.

Pile 3: Classic 🤓

Page of Cups - 8 Cups - 8 Swords

Regarding: Justice

Dreaming Way: Fish & Mountain

Oracles: Timing, Reflection, Time

Possible Signs: Virgo, Cancer & Pisces likely, Leo & Capricorn possibly

Zodiac Message:

Jupiter - Cancer - 9th House

- Learn or teach your feelings as if it or they came from God.

- Be positive about attitudes from the past about the philosophies and laws involved.

- Grow and expand, use your intuition and do it in a big way.

Charms:

Dead Tree 🍂 on Demon Red Rainbow

Peace ☮️ on Justice

Stallion 🐎 on Mountain

Peridot 💚 on The High Priestess

Color Card: Demon Red Rainbow 👹

“The greatest adversary is the one living inside of me.”

If the Demon Red Rainbow speaks to you, it is an indication that you are starting to (or will) forge ahead on the path you have chosen. You are correct in thinking that this path is important. Demon Red Rainbow denotes miraculous changes which lay ahead but not without your dogged determination. If you are facing a hill that appears insurmountable, this card reminds us that most true adversaries are the ones inside of us. Life always turns for the better when we face our demons.

You are not to abandon your focus no matter what comes up. The direct route may be the best way to the other side of your fear. There is a crucial lesson here for us all. Know that Spirit always provides an ally when we face the Demon Red Rainbow. It will be clear to you who they are. You need not face anything alone. Spirit has chosen a very powerful lesson for you so that you may teach others what you have learned. A gift of this kind is never given without our ability to use it.

I was afraid of this one coming out, and with the classic image too ha, surprise! We follow no preconceived stereotype here, this person is the mess, at least out of the three done so far. And any of you dealing with them are a saint. Or maybe a Cancer, that’s the only sign that might put up with it 🤦‍♀️ No offense, it’s saintly in its’ sacrifice. For some of you, this person is locked up, in jail, for who knows how long? You might. For others, this person is a train wreck you’ve had to separate yourself from. Demon Red Rainbow comes out to show they are their own worst enemy, and the “dead” tree charm shows that so long as they’re standing in their own way, there can’t and won’t be any growth in this person. Mountain and Horse shows them as a wild personality, one that can’t be tamed or restrained, and they create their own Mountains, dig their own holes, which they later fall into and need help escaping. Presumably, from you. Similarly, the Fish next to this Mountain shows an addictive personality or someone who doesn’t know when to stop, they’re excessive with everything they do, however that applies to them.

The thing that will change this person, eventually, is probably spiritual in nature, but I don’t think you’ll have anything to do with this. And while this IS your soulmate, that’s what this reading is, this is the kind of personality that myself and literally any other tarot reader would tell you to just keep moving away from. There are other soulmates. Your personality and vibe is heavily that of a “fixer”, and these signs could even be your signs more than theirs. It honestly feels like a reading that is more “I see you & you are heard” but this person is a lot to deal with…

You cannot miss anything that is for you. Right now you are not speaking to that person and Justice is here showing it’s the right thing. They may have asked you to wait for them, or you’ve done this to them, and there is no energy of that happening. There is no progress, no movement, it’s very difficult and may last a very long time. Again for someone there’s an energy of actual prison time being done and if that’s the case, you’re not expected to wait. They did the crime, they serve the time, go live your life 🙏 ALL of their oracles are about time. And more time, and more time. The longer the two of you spend apart, the more they have to look at themselves in the mirror, reflect, and realize where they went wrong, how they need to change, all of the could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve energies that you need them to see.

They’re conflicted because there’s no communication. You’re conflicted over this same reason. Neither of you wants to be alone, but neither of you can grow how you need to without this separation. There is definitely a pull here, but the love is only a Page, it’s not the whole thing that you deserve. In time, they will heal, and change, and calm down. Mature. Grow up. In time they may be perfect for you, and this could definitely be a Twin Flame 🔥 sort of connection for those waiting around on the runner to stop running. Peace ☮️ on Justice is “someday”. 5 Wands with Justice is right now. When it comes to Twins I’m a fan of saying don’t wait, they’re a waste of time. It’s a cute dream, and a big maybe, but you’ve only got one life, many possible soulmates, and there’s always the chance of meeting someone brand new ❤️ As much as this person matches your heart & energy, only you match theirs too, it’s their loss. If you’ve picked another pile, please pay close attention to that one as well, from this point forward I’m calling this the “stagnant Twin pile”. Whoever you had in mind, whoever you know fits the bill. It’s a maybe, someday, if you still want it. IF. Yes they will change. With time. Time. Time. More time. Good grief. Lot of time. But so will you. How it stands right now, it’s like loving a wolf that means to bite your face off. You have to worry about you 💯 I hate that there’s a dud for an option, but some must need to see it, or it wouldn’t have come out.

Pile 4: Doorway 🚪

The High Priestess - Page of Wands - 9 Cups

Regarding: 4 Swords

Dreaming Way: Dog, Clouds, Snake

Oracles: Flash, Wish Granted, Truth

Possible Signs: Leo 💯 Sagittarius, Libra, Capricorn, possibly Pisces with 9 Cups and all of this moon energy, the dreamy vibe is strong

Zodiac Message:

Jupiter - Leo - 5th House

- Learn or teach leadership with the trust of a child.

- Be positive about the creativeness of fun, romance, and making art.

- Grow and expand, do what you want to, and do it dramatically.

Charms:

Fractal Moon 🌙 on Electric Blue Moon

Angel 😇 on Page of Wands

Leaf 🍁 on Truth

Pearl of Wisdom 🦪 on Ace of Swords

Sailboat ⛵️ on 6 Swords

Color Card: Electric Blue Moon 🌚:

“If I don’t take care of it, it’ll never happen.”

It is not time to force an issue. If something feels important to you, you may be jumping the gun. If you are impatient, you may block something wonderful from coming to you. Now is not the time for a rushed decision, even if you think you’ve given something “plenty” of time, give it more. You have made your needs known to Spirit, now leave it alone. If you try to force a situation, you may bind yourself to something you could come to know as a hinderance. Allow right action to happen in its own time.

Though Leo is the most obvious here, even with the oracles, it’s definitely muddied with water energy. Both 💯 The Moon is as magnified as The Sun. Actually more so, The Sun is reversed. This could be literally Leo with heavy 8th/12th House placements, especially The Sun, one that doesn’t “shine” so brightly because they’re very daydreamy and kind of lost in another plane, or very spiritual. Or have heavy watery placements. It may not be Leo at all and that sign is being shown as The Sun, this is this person’s identity & who they are. Leo shows up with the 5th House, it’s natural ruling house, showing this person as FUN, artistic, very creative, working with children possibly, regardless of sign. They’re not dumb, nor misguided, and they don’t need someone looking down on them. Who they’re meant to be IS a dreamer, a teacher, a spiritualist, possibly an artist, someone in the more creative fields. With Dog, Clouds, and Snake in that order, who they are is a very loyal, giving, loving, friend, a ride or die kind of person, they don’t see the dangers in other people, the “snakes”, and in this way their head is in the clouds. That’s where the Pisces energy is stemming from strongly, whether they actually have that or not, they are an idealist above anything else, but they’re not lost to reality either and with Ace of Swords are actually quite intelligent. Just not suspicious? They’ll protect someone else before themselves 💯 And because of that, are often taken advantage of, and it does not and will not change them.

This person has big dreams they don’t act on, and amazing abilities of manifestation that they don’t use. Not yet. They have many options and they know it, but they’re more of an indecisive type and aren’t in any rush with Temperance. This is a “create the vision in your head” sort of person, and while Page & Knight of Wands are both here, they do take action, it’s not until their vision is complete. Definitely an artist/creative mentality. With 4 Swords & The High Priestess, either you don’t yet know this person or you do but you don’t really talk to them. With 5th House being highlighted and a lot of this younger energy, 9 Cups, it’s possible this is a single parent or someone that has children already. Or that’s their job, maybe something they definitely want. 10 Pentacles being reversed here shows they are not a conservative sort of person, they don’t want traditional…anything. Marriage. Jobs. Life. It’s not their cup of tea 🍵 They could have already been there done that, and are divorced, or come from divorced parents that make them not interested.

That doesn’t mean they’re opposed to love, they’re just not someone that’s locked in a box and expected to stay there, they like to move around and explore their endless options. Again, a dreamer. They’re very excitable, probably love to travel, and their dreams are more important to them than any “relationship” though that isn’t to be mean at all, I get no “mean” vibes from this person, they would probably encourage everyone to do the same. You want to go to Europe? Go! They have an encouraging & supportive energy, a hype person, a loyal friend 💖 The only thing that holds them back is a lack of confidence, and putting in the work necessary to achieve whatever their dream is. I don’t get they’re afraid of work or don’t work, I think their dreams change before they get there, and they switch tracks a lot. Or talk themselves out of things. It could be other people around them put them down or talk them out of things too, which is difficult for a loyal person like this, they may be losing opportunities or sitting on them due to negative people with no creative vision telling them they “can’t” when they absolutely can. The Boat on 6 Swords can show travel as part of their dreams or this may be how you know/meet them, they may travel or move unexpectedly, more than once even with 2 Pentacles, they don’t tend to stay put, and again 10 Pentacles is rev, they’re not the type to even want to. There’s always more to see & do.

The Fractal Moon on Electric Blue Moon shows something is in motion where their dreams are concerned, maybe meeting you is part of that, but there are a lot of options and details involved in what they’re doing, many layers, as also shown by 7 Cups. They’re waiting for something, patiently. Leaf on Truth and Pearl of Wisdom on Ace of Swords are very similar, they can dream a dream and get lost in the practicalities or reality of taking action, that may be where they’re stuck right now, but both of these charms are encouraging, they’re getting somewhere with what they’re doing. Growing & learning 💯 Flash and Wish Granted are also very encouraging, they will be inspired or get their answers, and though things may seem like they take TIME, once it’s moving it’s like lightning. Stop. Stop. Wait. BANG, and they’re there, they’ve done it, and no one was even paying attention. That’s a Uranian/Aquarian quality which is here lightly, which would support a Leo rising, or Uranus may be a strong placement, or conjunct something strong in your own chart. They will surprise you.

Pile 5: Hands 🙌🏽

5 Cups - The Emperor - The Empress

Regarding: The Hierophant

Dreaming Way: Coffin, Bear, Scythe

Oracles: Innovation, Obstacles, Details

Possible Signs: Aries & Scorpio 💯 Leo, Libra, Virgo, Taurus & Pisces

Zodiac Message:

Mercury - Aries - 10th House

- The awareness of energies to meet the challenges of your destiny.

- Many thoughts about or from your desires regarding where you’re going.

- Many words resulting from the honesty and strengths of your career.

Charms:

Angel 😇 on Bahana Beige

Black Cross ✝️ on The Hierophant

Sword 🗡 The Emperor

Virgo ♍️ on The Empress

Starfish ⭐️ on 10th House

White Heart 🤍 on Knight of Cups

Axe 🪓 on The Hermit

Color Card: Bahana Beige 🎨

“I quietly listen, allowing you to color your own palate.”

If you are drawn to Bahana Beige, it is time to take an impartial look at your situation and drop the excuses. Your answers will come when you remain still. Take no action at this time. The action of Bahana Beige is to listen. Now is the time to consider the other side, because there may be some valuable insights in another point of view. This technique can help produce great strides in communication in your relationships. When we are fixed on a position (or opinion), we are not in the neutral space of Bahana Beige.

This is an opportunity to see who you are in a relationship. Ask yourself, “How does my present attitude or position serve me?” When you answer this question, you will begin to gain more insight into choosing what is for the highest good in any situation. Another way to position a question is in thinking from the other person’s point of view. Is there another way to see this situation? What do you see now?

This is a very difficult personality, but definitely worthwhile. They are very serious, intense even, in their seriousness, and STUBBORN. This by far is the broadest spectrum of signs and personalities, but Mars dominates, they are clearly the hardest workers, the strictly disciplined, the action takers 💯 This is a person who is either divorced when you meet them, married but on their way to divorce, or they’ve had pain in their life due to parental figures, possible divorce in that sense as well. The Emperor is highlighted in their own personality, and as someone demanding, dominating & commanding that’s *over* them in some way and has since been cut off. Probably a father figure. For some this is a job, not parents, and a boss that’s unfairly and suddenly cut them off or out. This person knows struggle and the need to stand up to some dominating person, whether at home or in career, and in some sense they also wear a mask of intimidating & dominating traits. A job is being highlighted as having some level of regeneration to it, with Starfish ⭐️ on 10th House, they could be shifting careers or someone that does this more than once, some of you could meet them at work, but career has been a struggle in its own way no matter what these Emperor/Empress energies are otherwise. Previous failures have left a bitter taste in their mouth.

But that is not who they are inside. They are disappointed by the hand life has dealt them, and they feel a sense of competition everywhere they go, again heavy Mars energy here. They’ve lost a few of those “competitions” and may have a large ego that kinda kicks them in the butt if they’re not careful. They tend to shift blame outward and skirt any accountability, even within reason. The most difficult thing about this person is the negativity in their perception. They do not compromise. Their way or the highway. Black Cross on The Hierophant, they’re probably an atheist, and could have very negative views on any number of things. Certain companies, marriage as a whole, spirituality, specific ways of doing things that are not in line with *their* beliefs…even if that is simply “how to cut an onion”, and it’s wrong but good luck telling them that. They will willingly DIE on a pretty stupid hill, even if they’re wrong. Fixed energy 💯 A lot of needless arguments accompany this person and it just depends on your own personality & story what those are. Part of them genuinely likes to fight. Good luck with that 😆🤦‍♀️

Underneath this person’s “tough” exterior is a big emotional baby, to put it bluntly. Not very “mature”, with ick emotions that accompany very negative beliefs and perceptions, they tend to overdramatize and their emotions spill out like a flood when they’re upset. But, as anger, not sadness. Again…Mars. This can really be any sign with heavy Mars energy tbh, that’s what I’m getting here. The positive side to that is when they’re sad, happy, angry, upset, they can’t hide it so there’s no question as to where others stand with them. 100% not a fake person, they don’t just slap on a smile because someone says so or expects one, no.

They’ve lost many people in their lives and are pretty closed off and Hermit-like in nature. They’ve experienced disappointments in all areas of life, work, love, family, friends, you name it & they’ve probably experienced it. Their perceptions of things are so negative because of this, and that’s something perhaps you will help to change. Bahana Beige shows Spirit working in their favor the most when they try to remain impartial. It’s like not even expecting a total change, just be open, that’s all that’s asked of them & they’re blessed. They get way too caught up in obstacles and details, their negative thinking tends to mess up their plans, not anything being actually “against them”. They envision roadblocks where there are none, and have very little if any faith. There is a lot of past pain in this person, and they’re also very nostalgic about happy times, friends, possibly ex lovers, childhood memories, they may romanticize how things were vs seeing the reality of the situations or how things have changed, maybe they just miss the old days in some way. It’s a process, but they may talk about these things at random, and those things are often on their mind. At heart, this person is deeply romantic and would like the fairy tale to exist how it should, it just hasn’t yet and they’re bitter. Their intentions are noble and pure, and they’ve got a heart of gold for the right person. Healing is a top priority for them. Or it needs to be.

Deep down, this person wants marriage, children, the perfect picture of how things “should be”, even down to the 1950’s style cards I’m using for this pile, that matches up perfectly. They see a picket fence and wonder why they don’t have the right person to fit this image. I don’t get a sense of illusions too much though, they just want their soulmate, but may be a bit of a perfectionist about ideals, they could need a dose of realism in that sense. It’s not 1950 so…within reason. For some, they may be very difficult to see as long term because they assume everything will end up like the past, so they push it away, and you’ll have to fight back in that sense, because you’re different. Once they find that right person for them, they’re very conservative, truthful, loving, romantic even, this is someone that expects to be courted or will court you “the right way”, very passionate and eager for love, they aren’t a game player and if/when they do love you this is one that lasts forever 🙏

Pile 6: Maze

6 Wands - Knight of Pentacles - 4 Wands

Regarding: Ace of Cups

Dreaming Way: Fox & Tree

Oracles: Intuition, Distractions, Success

Possible Signs: Aries, Gemini & Pisces, possible Taurus with Venus, 2nd House & Hierophant, but I’m definitely getting its more the behavior than actual signs with this one

Zodiac Message:

Venus - Aries - 2nd House

- Cherish your willpower patiently.

- Enjoy what you think you know about what you want.

- Charm, art, and beauty are the way to do it your own way and get what you need.

Charms:

Red Moon 🌙& Bad & Boujee 😈 on Gold Coins

Child 👦🏻 on 10 Cups

Black Clover 🍀 on Distractions

Rose 🌹 on 6 Wands

Bunny 🐰 on 4 Wands

Bicycle 🚲 on Aries

Dolphins 🐬 on 6 Swords

Telephone ☎️ on Page of Wands

Color Card: Gold Coins 💰

“I only seek to give you what you ask for.”

Gold Coins gently asks you to look at your relationship with money. Money doesn’t care where it goes. It naturally goes toward appreciation and gratitude. What we do with our own abundance makes the difference. Are you blaming something on money? Are you running from it? Be wary of using your financial situation as an excuse to avoid doing something you love to do. Are you questioning a relationship or career that is hitting a rocky time? It may be time to look for the good in it. Remember there are two sides to every coin. What you desire may currently be manifesting. Great riches are waiting for you to use them. You can ask the universe for riches or poverty, the universe doesn’t care, only you can change your inner experience. “Things” only hold value when we think they do. If there were no money, it didn’t exist, what else would you do? What else would you focus on?

Two things are possible with this person. One, they may be already married or otherwise involved when you meet them. Possibly have children. Two, if they’re not, then they definitely want a marriage & children. This is almost a wolf in sheep’s clothing, especially with Fox here, and it’s not so much in a mean, conniving sort of way, unless they had a whole other family before you…possible. They may play this role to someone else, for you. But for most it’s in a financial way. They are very romantic, clever, charming, madly in love with sweeping someone off of their feet, and they do put in a lot of effort to keep their relationships happy, passionate, and stable. But when it comes to money, this person is almost dangerous in how reckless they can be. Venus is in detriment in Aries, and being 2nd House is telling as well. It’s not a soft & loving kind of placement, it’s notorious for independence and selfishness, in this case when it comes to personal finances and the things they own. Like a home, which is highlighted with 4 Wands here.

Gold Coins highlights the relationship with money, this is a major downfall to this person. Red Moon and the Bad & Boujee bottle, along with the Black Clover 🍀 on Distractions all show stupid impulses, “standards”, possible major issues with money. This could be a gambling problem, definitely a spending problem whether it’s shoes, cars, hair products, I don’t know the what except that it’s excessive and can cause major problems in their life. Probably already has. Fox with Tree can show them being financially bamboozled by a clever salesman type, or they could be that to YOU, putting their health at risk even, or things like insurance, 401k, long term stability that they don’t consider due to the need for convenience, impatience, or satisfaction right NOW. It is only money they are this way with. That I can see. Having Fox here, they will not be open and up front about these issues but will skirt them at every opportunity. Taking accountability means change, which they don’t intend to do.

Knight of Pentacles does show them to be a hardworking person. Not rich, not poor, they earn everything they have. They could be a sucker for a quick scheme, and if that’s the case it’s literally never worked out for them, so idk what the temptation even is there. For a very slight few, it’s possible the ex was this way and took them for everything they had, or they lost everything in a separation. If so, even kids. There’s a possibility of their children living far away from them as well and only really communicating by telephone. They’re the type to not pay child support, cash under the table, scheme scheme scheme. Only take that if it resonates, it’s for those leaving a family, and for that story that’s exactly what they’ll do…but you get the repercussions of all that. If you do not yet know this person, they’re definitely not the type to initiate, you’ll have to show interest, Phone on Page of Wands shows them waiting not initiating, they’re not the type for it. Or the connection starts as messages, not in person.

If not a family then this person may have once lived or traveled somewhere by the sea, with Dolphins on 6 Swords, and they keep in contacts with the friends from wherever they once were, or maybe go back and visit every so often. Could be where the money goes, in part. Distractions has the Black Clover on it and feels more like destructive hobbies that cost a lot of money, keeps them from getting ahead, and blocks success that’s available for them and ready for the taking. If you two have children together, they are a very loving parent. While present. If they have kids far away, they just don’t have them and can’t see a way out of that situation. This is a person that has overcome many difficulties and continues growing, they’re not forever stuck, but they do take a very long time. Or their job is one that isn’t the greatest, but it’s reliable, and saving up for something significant takes a very long time, even longer because there’s always some nonsense or excuse as to why money is missing. They’re responsible with your heart, not so much your wallet. There is a part of them that comes out as a Fox, they manipulate when they feel there is no other way…and they are selfish when it comes to doing what they want and how…just be mindful of that 🙏

I don’t get the best or worst vibes from this person, they just need someone that’s on top of everything to flat out be like “no” when it’s necessary, them leading the troops probably isn’t the wisest idea. But they are supportive, very loving, loyal in love at least so far as I can tell. Money is the issue. Some of them just come with money issues, child support, debt, bad credit, things like that. And they have the potential for success, plenty of money, they just also have the potential to blow it all in one day too. They like fancy things, and love to spend spend spend. It’s part of the deal with them. They could have a gifts love language. You must be the sort of person that’s on top of things to attract someone like this. Or you’ll need to be, they’re a clever one.

Pile 7: New Life 🌱

Page of Cups - The Star - 9 Wands rev & 8 Wands

Regarding: Knight of Cups

Dreaming Way: Book, Tree, Mountain

Oracles: Nurture, Collaboration, Dream

Possible Signs: Pisces, Taurus, Virgo, Sagittarius & Aquarius, possibly Scorpio with Death & Topaz

Zodiac Message:

Uranus - Taurus - 7th House

- An unusual example of resources to maintain balance.

- A different way of looking at the practicality of cooperation.

- An unexpected change resulting from the productivity of your partner.

Charms:

Taurus ♉️ on Topaz

Dancer 💃 on Collaboration

Moulin Rouge 💋 and Bad & Boujee 😈 on Knight of Wands

Cupid 💘 on Temperance

Color Card: Topaz 💛

“If I seek peace, I must embrace my fears.”

Topaz speaks: “To be enlightened is to realize that to gain peace, fear in the heart must be faced.” If Topaz has come to you, he is telling you that it is time to stop talking about what you intend on doing. You must just do it. Things happen for us when we take action, which is the only way to break through what is holding us back. The change that is called for here is surrender, which is an action in itself. No great tasks were ever achieved easily. Remember we do a lot to avoid what we feel will hurt us; you must understand that the pain will recede if you face your fears, allowing you to walk through to the other side. Topaz whispers “Pray for guidance and you will be assisted.” Do not despair, for if Topaz has come to you, relief awaits. By facing your fears, peace and enlightenment will be your reward. That is the gift. All you need to do is ask.

This is a very loving person, romantic, soft, dreamy, emotional, and very partnership oriented, they could be the sort of person that has only ever worked within partnerships, whether that’s love, friendships, family, they’re a “group-minded” and close-knit kind of person with 7th House highlighted. They could have a dominant 7th, possibly with the Sun or Moon there. Taurus also is a very domestic and family oriented sign, whether it actually applies to their chart or not, they are your family person. Nurture shows a picture of a Native woman with a baby on her back, Collaboration shows a pair of people, 10 Cups and 10 Pentacles are here showing groups of very close knit people make them happiest. The group is everything, family is everything, and they are a nurturing & giving type of personality, regardless of gender. Possibly a parent already, if so it’s a defining factor in who they are, or that’s definitely something they want later on.

This person has been through some difficult times in regards to some level of toxicity whether at work or in their family. Could be both. Moulin Rouge and Bad & Boujee show those being along a sexual or provocative nature, there’s been Death & major transformations in themselves regarding this, and it could be any number of things, some very traumatizing. Hugs to them. They may not have been an angel at one time, either playing the field, working in toxic/sensual types of conditions, possible addictions, but have learned and sacrificed for the family, children, there is an energy of sacrifice here which would match all of the Pisces energy coming through, whether it literally applies to signs or not. This may be someone else entirely in their environment or past that had to go. Death is attached to all of these things, it’s in the past.

This person has a lot of healing to do, but they’re happy to do it, a more optimistic and happy personality for sure even with the struggles they’ve been through. They are mature in their energy with Temperance, and The Sun outshines any Moon confusion they may have once had, this is someone aware of their manifestations, where they’ve been, what they want, and where they’re going. All with a very happy energy with this Sun, and a romantic & dreamy outlook on life in general with Knight of Cups. Cupid on Temperance shows them as mature, patient, and very accepting or tolerant of the differences in people, they don’t seem to mind yours if you don’t mind theirs. A very peaceful energy, and not one to rush into things, which if Taurus applies, they rush for no one ever 😆

Taurus being on Topaz could show a person with both Taurus and Scorpio qualities, or possible oppositions like this in their chart that equal a balance in this person’s personality. They’re more patient, fluid, go with the flow, and less stubborn. They may have been hurt in the past, love wise, and you could surprise them because they weren’t looking when you found them, or they didn’t know what they wanted until they found you. It’s a very sweet energy with them.

With Book, Tree, and Mountain, they could be a book worm or an avid learner of all of the things, and what’s highlighted is health obstacles they may have had to face, however that may apply. Self help books, meditations, yoga, anger management or any number of peaceful mind/body tactics may be something they’re into. Tree also pertains to the environment, this could be a very environmentally conscious person, a vegan or vegetarian, a compost creating gardener type, something along those lines. Mountain describes obstacles they’ve faced or are currently dealing with, some may have a long term illness of some kind or some sort of routine to deal with a particular ailment of theirs, like physical therapy, or holistic medicine for example. That won’t apply everywhere, or in any specific way for the collective, just take it how it resonates for you.

Dancer 💃 is on Collaboration, that could be some way you know them, they like to dance or you do this together, maybe take classes, or they have. It’s highlighted with their creativity in a very fun way, and this person seems most focused on the fun of situations, especially in groups of people. The more the merrier!

#pick a card #PAC #soulmate #pick a pile #your true soulmate #zodiac sign #astrology #astroblr #march 2023

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adora-but-ginger · 11 months

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To Meet Your Match

pairing: Miguel O'hara x gn!reader

summary: you were nearly a parallel of him in some ways, and well you should never fight fire with fire.

word count: around 1k

warnings: angst, kind of like two feral cats meeting each other for the first time

a/n: i wrote this at 12:30 in the morning and woke up to it in my drafts with little memory of what i put. that being said, i think that miguel meeting someone who challenges his superiority would not only make him furious, but it would also make him fall quick. that being said i'm thinking of making a little series kind of with a bunch of little snippets of this spider-person and they're relationship with miguel and their backstory via little blurbs like this. let me know what you think!

masterlist

oh yeah, forgot to mention that you should not repost my stories, or any stories for that manner because that automatically gives you the title of little bitch boy (gender neutral).

thank you so much for reading!! <3 ella

credit to gif owner!

If he was being honest, Miguel had skipped your universe on purpose. It was one of the first he had portaled to and he was on edge from the moment he stepped into it.

Unlike others, your origin story was...complicated. Sure, he knew you had been bitten by a radioactive spider and yadah yadah yadah, but you were no hero at the beginning. Hell, he wasn't sure that he'd even call you a hero now. After you had been bitten, you had chosen to lash out in revenge against those who you dubbed had deserved it, showing little mercy to whoever fell at your hand. That, along with accidentally having a day job for a person that would cause one of your first canon events, well it made you more of an anti-hero to put it lightly.

You, like him, did things that no other spider person did, and he not only didn't want to deal with the mess that that would cause, but he knew merely from the few glances of you that he caught that he would fall down a hole he did not want to go down anymore.

You were almost a parallel to him in some ways, and he could already feel the pull.

So, when you came waltzing in with Gwen at two in the afternoon on what would normally be a regular Tuesday, well, his heart dropped. His heightened senses were going haywire, and he could tell that those with spidey senses were having a similar feeling, heads turning towards you. Gwen was practically bouncing with every step she took, and he gave Jess a look to which she shrugged. This is why he didn't go get lunch at the cafeteria.

You had a presence about you that seemed to attract static and push away the noise around you at the same time, and you knew this. You had agreed to the girl's request to "meet the others" after she practically asked if she could live with you, which Jessica had later informed you that her and Gwen's first interaction was similar. You didn't mind them though, and had agreed after a while to check out this "Spider Society".

Your dark gray and light blue suit stuck out a bit from the copious amount of red and blue, and little sparks erupted from your hands as you passed particular areas that were heavily electrified. As you strode past the others in this lobby area you raised your head, for if the eyes pinned on your figure expected something from you, well they were in tough luck. The girl had said you were going to meet the one who created this place, Miguel O'hara, and as you entered the dimly lit room your senses went wild.

You had been in his presence before. You don't know how or when, but the chill that shot through your body was familiar, and familiar was never good.

"aaaand here he is! he seems all mean, but don't let that fool you" Gwen had started before the said source of why your senses were having the time of their life stepped down from a particularly slow-moving platform. Incredibly tall and broad, the glare that met your eyes behind your mask regarded you with a sliver of apprehension.

"You need to let me know when you guys bring in a new recruit, you can't just show up in the middle of the day with one." His gaze didn't shift once, and you weren't going to back down from this either. Call it what you want, but you could sense that he needed to be knocked down a few pegs, and that not many people presented that opportunity.

But you knew his type, how their superiority complex functioned.

"What Earth are you from?" His voice was low and rough.

"I think you may already know."

It was a stare down, and you felt a little wave of triumph as he broke first to give you a once over. "Remove your mask."

You looked towards Gwen. "Is he usually this demanding?" She nodded, and you could feel the annoyance emanating from him. Giving him a once over then in return, you placed your hands on your hips as you tilted your head. "Not with that tone I'm not."

You could see his face turn into a scowl, the tip of a fang (a fang?) making itself visible for the briefest of seconds. "What did you just say to me?" His chest was inhaling deeper breaths now, and you could tell he was getting on edge. Good.

"I'm sorry, boss, do I need to repeat myself?" If he thought he was intimidating you, he was so, so, wrong. The anger was radiating itself off of him, and you could feel it fuel you more. Taking a step closer and shortening the distance of the two of you, you pointed a gloved finger to your chest, talking with your eyebrows raised and your words slowed down. "Ask me nicely, and I will."

His eyes flooded with a red that caught you momentarily off guard, you hadn't seen that before. He looked towards Gwen and Jess, who you suspected both gave him looks back, and he huffed with a cinch of his nose, seething through his teeth. With a roll of his eyes, he motioned a hand out and shrugged, which you figured was probably as nice as it was going to get.

You removed your mask then, showing your face to the spider-man in front of you alongside the two onlookers. You saw his face shift as that all too familiar rush of your eyes turning that electrifying blue went through you. You spoke your name then and held out a hand, fingers slightly sparking from the static forming around it. It was an electrified stalemate, with little bolts zipping in the air around your raised out arm.

"Well, boss, It's a pleasure to meet you."

#atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman

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anonymousewrites · 1 month

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Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Twelve

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Twelve: During the Ritual

Summary: (Y/N) has to handle losing Marc and Steven, but their troubles aren't over. Harrow wants to release Ammit.

(Y/N) sobbed as Harrow’s guards pulled Marc’s body from the water, checking to make he was dead. They knew he was. He was gone. That was the truth.

Harrow knelt next to the body and glanced at his men. They shook their heads. The ushabti wasn’t on him. Wordlessly, Harrow turned back to the bag abandoned behind Marc. (Y/N) was too exhausted to even be disappointed as he pulled the ushabti out of the backpack.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, Marc Spector…Steven Grant…whoever else might be in there.” Harrow had the audacity to place the scarab on Marc’s chest as a gift. He rose. “Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality.”

Harrow turned away and raised the ushabti above his head. His men gazed reverently at it. They knelt and bowed, in awe of the mere presence of the statue holding Ammit.

Harrow smiled. “Who wants to heal the world?”

In his other hand, he lifted his cane. Sensing the proximity of Ammit, it glowed purple. One of the heads opened its maw and flipped over. Now it was a staff, not a cane, taller than Harrow, with a single menacing crocodile head. The power of Ammit was growing.

Harrow walked towards the passage out, and his men followed. Helplessly, (Y/N) was dragged away after him.

Numb, (Y/N) just let themself be pulled through the tunnels and be thrown into a jeep. They lay lifelessly as Harrow and his men drove towards Cairo and the pyramids and all the lives to be judged.

(Y/N) stared out the window blankly. They knew it stopped periodically, and screams echoed into their mind. Squeezing their eyes shut, they tried to block out the world. They couldn’t fight. (Y/N) had no strength of their own. They were useless, hopeless, purposeless.

Marc and Steven stumbled out of their memories and back onto Taweret’s ship.

“Taweret, what’s going on?” asked Steven.

“Fear is spreading in the upper world,” said Taweret. Streaks of purple light fell through the air, landing in the sand around the ship. “Unbalanced souls are being judged and condemned to the sands before their time. Oh, this is bad. This is evil.”

“This is Harrow,” said Steven, eyes widening. “Oh, god, he’s using Ammit to condemn souls.”

“(Y/N). Layla.” Marc’s jaw clenched. “They’re in danger.”

“You see why we have to go back?” said Steven, looking desperately at Taweret.

“Even if I could send you back up there, you’d just be returning to a body with a bullet in it,” said Taweret ruefully. “You wouldn’t be able to heal.”

Steven swallowed and looked down. “Harrow’s going to make (Y/N) read the rites to free gods from ushabti to free Ammit. Could it do the same for Khonshu or Ma’at’s ushabtis?”

Taweret paused. “Well, yes, if the magic was in the same area. But are you sure you want to be with Khonshu again? Seems like you really want to get away from him.”

Steven looked back at Marc.

“I did,” admitted Marc. “But this is our only shot to stop Ammit. To save Layla. To protect (Y/N). It’s the way it’s gotta be.”

Taweret smiled. “You both seem to care about them. Layla and (Y/N).”

Steven and Marc exchanged a look.

“Layla’s my wife,” said Marc.

“Layla’s special,” said Steven. “And (Y/N)…”

“They deserve so much more than what they had,” said Marc. “I don’t—We don’t want them to suffer any more.”

“We want to give them the care they deserve,” said Steven, smiling.

It was true. Throughout their time together, Steven and Marc had both come to care for (Y/N). In different ways they were alike.

Steven and (Y/N) were both awkward with others, underestimated and made to feel small. Steven wanted to make sure they saw they were worth more. He wanted them to feel like they were more.

Marc saw a reflection of his younger self in (Y/N)’s desperation for direction. He had been hurt growing up, lost himself, and gone down a dark path. He didn’t want that to happen to (Y/N).

Steven and Marc saw their own pain in (Y/N), in the teenager fighting to survive, so alone. They refused to let history repeat itself. They would make sure (Y/N) was protected and supported. They wouldn’t leave them to feel alone and lost.

Layla sat in the back of the jeep with Harrow’s men. Keeping her face covered, she looked around herself warily. She’d gotten a message from Taweret that Marc could try (somehow) to return to life, but she wasn’t sure what to believe when it came to the gods. It seemed so far-fetched.

But what Taweret had said about breaking Khonshu and/or Ma’at’s ushabtis if the ritual rites were read seemed true. Then Marc could fight with his suit, and he had a chance against Harrow like that. (Y/N) had a chance of being safe with their suit, too, and that’s what counted to Layla.

She squared her shoulders. She’d do what was necessary to defeat Harrow and Ammit. Her eyes flicked to the jeep (Y/N) was in. She also needed to save them. She couldn’t leave them with Harrow.

Don’t worry, (Y/N). We’re coming.

Dragging (Y/N) up the stones that made up the great pyramids, Harrow’s disciples dutifully followed him and Ammit’s growing power. They stopped only when he did, and they bowed as he raised Ammit’s staff. Slamming it on the ground, the pyramid opened up to the goddess’s power to allow her and her people entry. The pathway to the other gods and their Avatars was clear.

(Y/N) was pulled inside no matter how much they tried to pull against the guards. Seeing the familiar face of Yatzil and the other Avatars, they tried to fight again, but their strength was too little.

“Come. You won’t believe what the gods have hidden from mankind,” said Harrow to his followers.

“Run!” shouted (Y/N) to the other Avatars.

Their eyes went to the teenager, and the shock was clear. Everything they and Marc and Khonshu and Ma’at had said was true. Harrow was there to release Ammit. And these gods and Avatars had done nothing to prevent it.

Harrow lifted a hand, and the guard holding (Y/N) clamped a hand over their mouth to stifle their shouts. He looked evenly at the Avatars. “You’re judges, not warriors. This doesn’t need to happen.”

Selim summoned Osiris’s power, and the other Avatars collected their power to assist him. Harrow held up Ammit’s staff. Purple light exploded towards the Avatars. Letting out a pained cry, (Y/N) watched as they fell to the attack.

Behind Harrow’s men, Layla slipped away from the group. She had to find Khonshu’s ushabti for when the ritual rites were read. She paused as she found it. In the space beside it stood Ma’at’s ushabti. Layla was torn. Yes, breaking it would free Ma’at, who had fought to keep Ammit from returning, and (Y/N) would be given a suit by Ma’at that would protect them. But it could also tie (Y/N) to a god again, a clearly painful experience that had interrupted their life. Layla touched the ushabti. She needed to make the right choice, but for who? The world or (Y/N)?

“This was all so avoidable,” sighed Harrow as he looked at the bodies of the fallen Avatars. Then, he turned away and faced (Y/N). “It is time.”

(Y/N) shook their head furiously, but they were roughly pushed forward to their knees. Fitzgerald handed Harrow Ammit’s ushabti, and he held it in front of himself, over (Y/N)’s head.

“Read the rites,” said Harrow.

(Y/N) shook their head. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I don’t want to.” They wished they could say “can’t.” But they remembered the ritual. They knew it. The words were swirling in their mind, ready to be spoken, but (Y/N) didn’t want to let that magic into the air for Harrow to use.

“You’ll be safe after,” said Harrow, as terribly benevolent as ever. “Your life will be full of peace.”

“You’re going to hurt people,” said (Y/N), eyes blazing as they looked at him. “You’re going to hurt more people.”

Harrow sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “I really hate to do it this way. Truly, I do.” He raised the staff, and it glowed purple.

The scales tattoo on (Y/N)’s arm burned. They screamed, grabbing it tightly. Flames seemed to light inside their skin, punishing them for going against Harrow and Ammit’s wishes.

“I don’t want to continue this,” said Harrow sorrowfully, watching (Y/N) curl in on themself and cry out. “Just read the rites.”

(Y/N) sobbed and tried to squeeze their eyes shut and block out the pain. Behind the columns, Layla watched in horror with her hand over her mouth. Harrow truly was a monster.

“Read the rites, child,” said Harrow.

What else could (Y/N) do? As fire burned them from within, the words fell from them unbidden. The Coptic chant mixed with the natural magic of the temple of the gods, and the buzz of energy filled the air, making every mortal’s hair stand on end. (Y/N) sobbed, cried out, and the final words fell from their mind.

The burning pain left them, and (Y/N) caught themself on their hands. Pushing themself up, they tried to stand and do something, but it was too late.

Raising the ushabti above his head, Harrow smashed it into the ground. With a rumble equal to that of a thousand thunderstorms, billowing smoke flashing with purple magic exploded from the ushabti, rising to the ceiling of the chamber.

Harrow watched in awe, and his followers in not a little fear, as Ammit returned to the world. She stood tall and intimidating, towering over the mortals below. Her crocodile scales shone in the pale torchlight, glinting off the golden jewelry across her neck and in the beads of her black hair. Her long snout and maw instantly pulled back in a satisfied sneer, and her tail lashed in the open air.

Harrow and his disciples fell to their knees, reverent of their goddess. (Y/N) alone remained standing, staring up at Ammit with wide eyes.

Ammit gazed down at the gathered group, and her golden eyes landed on (Y/N). “To whom do I owe my gratitude? You, young one?”

(Y/N) blinked and stepped back, pulling the sleeves of their hoodie. Panic gripped them, and words refused to form in their throat.

“Yes, the language of magic rests heavy around you,” said Ammit, nodding approvingly. She continued her appraising look, and (Y/N) wanted to disappear. “As does truth. It is carved into your very heart. I look for such souls to guide, for who else can speak for my ways but those with truth?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Did Ammit want them as an Avatar because the truth was strong around them? Is that why Ma’at had chosen them? “I—” (Y/N)’s voice failed them, still constricted.

“My goddess,” said Harrow, raising his head. “The child was Ma’at’s Avatar. They fought against freeing you. They are not a suitable choice for you, despite their heart. I brought them merely to read the ritual rites.”

Ammit tsked. “Ah, Ma’at. We worked together once. A pity she could not see we both wish for the same thing—justice. Truth.” Her eyes landed on Harrow. “But if you brought the child here, then you are to whom I owe gratitude.”

Harrow shook his head. “I am but a humble disciple to whom you owe nothing.”

“Your scales lack balance,” noted Ammit appraisingly.

“I understand,” said Harrow, bowing his head. “I had hoped my penance might correct my imbalance, but I see now that’s impossible. I accept the scales regardless of the outcome.”

(Y/N) felt a fury build inside them. Harrow had given himself a second chance but refused it to anyone else. Once again, his teachings and Ammit’s work were nothing more than inconsistent fallacies that hurt so much more than they could ever possibly help.

“They lack balance because of what lies ahead of you,” said Ammit.

“Then we must spare the world the pain I will cause,” said Harrow. “I willingly submit.”

Harrow disgusted (Y/N). Only now that Ammit spoke was he willing to say he had done wrong? That he had hurt people?

“What lies ahead of you is your service to me,” said Ammit.

“How may I serve you in death?” said Harrow.

“Your death is delayed,” said Ammit. “I once relayed on a servant whose scales balanced perfectly. In exchange, I was bound to stone for two thousand years.” She cast a look to (Y/N), who had backed up to the stone wall in an attempt to disappear. “Perhaps the same would happen if I chose another balanced heart, even if the truth is so natural to them.”

“But I have disciples all over the world whose scales balance perfectly, awaiting your command,” said Harrow, still the ever-reverent, humble man. “They are worthy, my goddess.”

“But you worked to set me free. That is the loyalty I need of an Avatar,” said Ammit. “You are the Avatar that I need. Serve me, and you will find peace.” She put her hand on Harrow’s head. “Do not let the past control you.”

But you will judge others on their past, thought (Y/N).

“As you wish.” Harrow’s eyes glowed purple as he accepted the Avatarhood.

In the smaller corridors, Layla took a deep breath and stomped on Khonshu’s ushabti. In a swirl of sand and white smoke, Khonshu appeared, and Layla gasped. She had never actually seen one of the gods.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world,” said Khonshu, looking about. “He died fighting, no doubt.”

“Fighting your war,” said Layla angrily.

“And it’s far from over,” said Khonshu. “If Marc is truly gone, then I am in need of an Avatar. Would you, Layla El-Faouly, protect the travelers of the night—”

“Are you joking?” Layla cut him off. “You turned Marc’s life into a waking nightmare. Why would I ever sign up for that?”

“Because you won’t win against Ammit and Harrow alone,” said Khonshu.

“I’ll take my chances,” said Layla, narrowing her eyes.

“Nor can you protect (Y/N) against them,” said Khonshu.

“I said I’ll take my chances,” repeated Layla.

“You need a plan, little bug. What I offer—”

“I don’t care what you offer,” said Layla. “(Y/N) warned me about being an Avatar. Marc didn’t trust you. I don’t trust you. We’ll work together without my enslaving myself.”

“To rebind Ammit, we’ll need Ma’at’s knowledge of rituals,” said Khonshu, bitter but going along with Layla (he needed Ammit gone. That was his first priority).

Layla turned and picked up the ushabti. Silently apologizing to (Y/N) since she couldn’t be sure how (Y/N) felt about Ma’at returning, Layla smashed it. Blue smoked and sand condensed into Ma’at’s form.

“Ammit has returned,” said Ma’at, instantly strategizing. “I know the binding ritual. (Y/N) can read it. It will work if they become my Avatar again.”

“Good, they can repay releasing her,” said Khonshu.

“That wasn’t their fault,” snapped Layla.

Khonshu didn’t have the grace to respond and disappeared into sand.

“Remain watchful, Layla El-Faouly,” said Ma’at. “There is still a battle to come.” She disappeared.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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First Failure // D. Grayson x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: blood, gun violence, canon typical violence, reader has thoughts that could be viewed as suicidal, self hatred, ANGST

Summary: The prequel to First Christmas, or, how Dick saved you.

This is part of the Assassin!verse that you can read here

The roof was solid under your feet, but it still felt like the world was shifting and sliding out from under you. Nightwing stood in front of you, his brow furrowed at your words.

“I failed the mission,” you repeated. One month out of the cages and your handlers were getting twitchy. They were recalling you for reprogramming and extra training and sending a new agent to take over your case. This would be your last chance. To do what, exactly, you weren’t sure.

You realized you were slipping four days earlier when your neighbor, a friendly guy named Dick Grayson, invited you over to join him and his little sister, Stephanie, for dinner and to watch a movie. The plot seemed so contrived and random, but you found yourself seated on the couch with your knees pulled up to your chest and your eyes fixed on the screen. The Princess Bride, they told you it was titled. By the end of the movie, Steph was fast asleep in between you and Dick, and you were horribly confused.

“Why would he go through all that trouble to save her? I mean, he practically died. She can’t be worth it that much.”

You could see him staring at you out of the corner of your eye so you rested your chin on your forearms and tilted your head towards him. The light of the TV flickered over his handsome face, those kind eyes and smile that seemed to be glued onto his face. He studied you and in that second, you felt for a brief moment that this was the life you were supposed to always have.

In all of the movies Dick had shown you, the main character always seemed to win in the end. Did your life feel like winning? Spending your days pacing the length of your cage until they let you out to train or study targets or sharpen your skills before being placed back into that cage with a measly bowl of watery soup? That was winning?

“What do you mean you failed the mission?” Nightwing asked. He stepped closer to you, his escrima sticks hanging loosely in his hands. You took an involuntary step back and he raised his hands to signal peace before he slid his weapons back into their holsters.

“You. You were my mission. I thought that was obvious.”

He huffed out a low laugh. “Yeah, I figured from the amount of times you tried to kill me. But you’re still here. Aren’t you going to keep trying?”

The black fabric of your balaclava and hood hid most of your face from view, but your eyes still peeked out from behind your mask. Tightening your hands into fists, you suddenly relaxed them and shook your head.

“I…I’ve been compromised,” you admitted. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but I wanted you to know so you could be prepared.”

“Why?” The question was bordered with anger and maybe a tinge of sadness. “You’ve been trying to kill me for a month. Why tell me this?”

“Because they told me you were my target. That meant you did something to deserve death. But I have seen the way you take care of this city, these people, and I cannot conceive of a single reason as to why you should die by my hand.”

He faltered, his lips pursing, and you wished for just a moment that you could see underneath his mask and know the man that hid behind it. Was he as kind out of the suit as much as he was inside of it?

“Let me help you,” he finally said. “I know people. I can get you to safety, get you away from whoever is giving you orders, and I can get you your life back.”

A miserable moan escaped you. “There’s nothing for me to go back to, don’t you understand? This is all I know, this is all I’ll ever know.”

“You won’t survive.” His words reminded you of a quote from that movie Dick showed you. A small smile lifted your mask slightly and you shrugged.

“Nonsense. You only say that because no one ever has.”

“Please. Let me help you.” He said it so softly, with such desperation, that you wished you could take his outstretched hand and let him whisk you off into a new world. But that could never work.

“I can’t be saved, Nightwing. I can’t be redeemed.”

A glint of metal reflecting off of the numerous lights of Bludhaven caught your eye. Shit. They must have sent someone already to eliminate the threat.

Nightwing hadn’t appeared to notice the sniper rifle which meant he didn’t react when you hurtled yourself towards him and twisted your body to stand in between man and machine. A startled gasp escaped you as the bullet entered the fleshy part of your abdomen and you immediately fell to your knees as your body absorbed the shock. Fuck, you had been shot before but it hurt like a bitch everytime. Fucking hell, fucking damnit. You needed to move. Needed to get out of the line of fire.

Lying flat on the ground, you tried to shake off the ringing in your ears, but it seemed like your body was just intent on betraying you. Something grabbed your arm and you whirled around, aiming a knife for whoever touched you, but they quickly pulled away. You stumbled to your feet and clamped a hand down over your stomach before stumbling towards the edge of the roof. Inhaling deeply, you turned to look back at Nightwing one last time before you let yourself tip over the edge into the safety of your zip cord.

You practically fell into your apartment once you crawled to your fire escape. Briefly, you wondered what Dick was doing, but you brushed that thought away. By dawn, you would be dead or in a truck being transported to be tortured into submission by your handlers. There wasn’t time to think about the people you would leave behind.

Russet streaks and fingerprints marked the walls as you stumbled towards the bathroom. Your head was fuzzy from blood loss and black spots crowded in on the edges of your vision. Everything smelled and tasted vaguely of iron and your hand was soaked with your own blood.

Your knees gave out mere feet from the bathroom and you crawled on all fours to the cabinet that held your first aid kit. The sopping viscous liquid that coated your hand made it damn near impossible to open the wooden door and you nearly cried out in success when you were able to nudge it open.

“Pliers, pliers, pliers,” you chanted as you threw the massive bag down and began to sift through it. The adrenaline had worn off about now and fiery hot pain licked up through your side and into your lungs. Every breath felt like an elephant was sitting on your chest and your temples pounded with each thready heartbeat. You needed to get this damn bullet out and then you could pack the wound and apply pressure.

Was this all even worth it? What would happen if you succeeded in patching yourself up? You would just be sent back to kill again. The blood on your hands now was freshly painted by the same people who had sent you to do the same thing to others time and time again. If Nightwing was innocent, who’s to say your other victims weren’t unjustly murdered?

That’s who you were. An assassin. A machine. You were a gun loaded and pointed by your handlers. You were simply a weapon.

They wouldn’t cry if you bled out on this bathroom floor. They would simply toss your body into an unmarked grave and drive off to find some other child to snatch in the night and train into their perfect little soldier.

“Damnit,” you hissed under your breath as you fumbled with the zipper on the bag holding gauze patches. In a fit of rage, you threw the kit into the bedroom and watched as the various bags and first aid supplies scattered across your room before falling to the ground with a muted thud. Your chest heaved with wild, strained breaths and then you were sobbing. Shit, you were weeping.

The cries wracked your already weak body and you let yourself slip down until your cheek was pressed against the pool of blood that had gathered underneath you on the shoddily tiled floor. You pulled your knees up to your chest as best as you could, the fetal position they called it, and waited for the reaper to claim you.

A banging noise faintly registered in your mind, but you were too tired to consider who it was they sent after you. Perhaps they would be kind enough to toss a dandelion on your grave. You wondered for a moment what your headstone would read if you were graced with one.

Agent 2327. Failure. Killer.

“Hey, hey.” Someone was speaking. A hand slapped your cheek and you tried to open your eyes, but heavy weights were pulling you under. First things first, to the death, you recalled the quote from the movie. No. To the pain.

Everything was a fuzzy, blissful feeling. It was like waking up from the best dream, but then you realized with a start that you shouldn’t be waking up at all. You let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting in whatever room you were in and tried to take in your surroundings. A popcorn ceiling, a Black Canary poster on the wall…where the hell were you?

“You’re awake.”

You let your head fall to the side and met kind blue eyes. Dick Grayson sat beside you in a chair that didn’t look terribly comfortable, but he didn’t appear to be in any discomfort as he leaned in closer to you. It was then that you noticed the familiar black and blue uniform that you had been tailing for a month clinging to his body.

“You…” The words failed you and he offered you a small smile.

“Yeah, me.”

Why did he save you? You had been hunting him down and trying to kill him for the past month. Was this some kind of sick ploy for him to extract information from you? You knew he worked with Batman occasionally in Gotham. Was he going to turn you over to him?

But that wasn’t Nightwing. That wasn’t the hero you had watched over the past month. That wasn’t the man who snagged kittens out of trees, took down trafficking rings, and faced enhanced threats that tried to destroy his city. That wasn’t the Dick Grayson you had met either. Dick was kind, welcoming, and always made an effort to be…well, neighborly.

You had a choice to make here, but it looked fairly obvious what path you should take.

“Please help me,” you whispered. He leaned closer, his arm stretching out over your head and his thumb stroking along your temple. His eyes were hard and you missed the warmth that usually effused from them. Shutting your eyes, you waited to hear him reject you. To inform you of what he would do with you now that you were defenseless and broken before him. Would he send you to Arkham?

“You’re safe now,” Dick assured you. “I’m going to help you, I promise. You’re safe. You’ll never have to go back there.”

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed that you were safe.

Tag List: @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @bunny-kawa @khaylin27

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #assassinverse #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing

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commander-krios · 6 months

Note

Pressing tiny kisses against your lover's shoulder while they're bent over a desk, trying to focus even though your touch is distracting them.—For whoever speaks up

Here it is! Something sweet written for post-game Aly/Gale. I posted it on AO3 as well if anyone prefers to read it there.

Tell Me About the Stars

A glow was coming from the study where Gale liked to sit reading, for hours sometimes after his lessons with Arabella and Yenna were finished. Usually he’d get lost in some experiment, some new piece of history that would leave him riveted to the book, turning page after page until he absorbed every word he could until his eyes crossed. Tonight seemed like another one of those nights.

A light knock on the door didn’t even disturb him, bent as he was over the desk, texts and scrolls scattered in an ‘organized mess’ as he liked to call it. Alyril’fryn entered quietly, propping the door open slightly to keep it from slamming behind her. Then she carried a bowl to where he stood, not even noticing her presence until she set the food beside his work.

“Ah, there you are!” He exclaimed, dark eyes dancing in the light of the candles. With a smile, Gale glanced down at the food, steaming in the wooden bowl. The spot between his eyebrows furrowed adorably. “What’s this?”

“Jaheira dropped some stew off earlier.” Alyril wrapped her arms around him, settling her hands against his chest. She pressed her lips against his shoulder, lingering against the warm fabric of his robes, enjoying the solid feeling of his body against hers. He tsked low in his throat, a sound that she knew all too well. “It’s delicious and you need to eat something. Don’t make me call her back-”

A gentle chuckle followed the unspoken threat.

“Is it that late already?” He asked, gaze on the window where the sun had long descended below the horizon. Now the sky was an inky black, white pinpricks sparkling in the dark. “I apologize for missing dinner. Again.”

“No apologies necessary.” Alyril stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss at the base of his neck, lingering briefly at the warmth of his skin. “What are you working on tonight?”

“Do you remember the myconids we met in the Underdark during our daring adventures? Well… their ethical and moral standing against violence are so interesting, considering their lives in the Underdark. To be around so many violent species and to abhor it so vehemently, I would love to return one day to speak to them in length.”

As he rambled, Aly’s mouth trailed along the curve of his neck, hot kisses against his skin as if he was oblivious to her. She would love him to the end of her days and there was something so sweet about his passion for learning, for understanding the weave and the world around him. It was infectious most days, but tonight, Aly basked in the sound of his voice, her mind on other matters entirely.

It was long before Gale paused to glance over his shoulder, raising a curious eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?”

Alyril pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to hide the smile that curled her lips. “Oh, me? Nothing.”

Her hands ran along his chest, the elaborate embroidered robes smooth against her fingers, and she sighed softly, when he covered her hands with his own, squeezing her affectionately.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Turning in her embrace, Gale cupped her face in his hands, thumb brushing gently against her cheek, his smile still making her heart flutter wildly in her chest after all of this time. “I’ll make it up to you. Tell me what you want. I’d steal the stars from the sky for you.”

Alyril stared up at him, mesmerized by the flecks of dark gold in his brown eyes and the way the light of the candles highlighted some of the lighter tones in his hair. She reached a hand up to run her fingers through the strands, like silk across her skin. “I only need you.”

With a sigh, Gale leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. “And I’m forever grateful for it. I know I’ve been scarce a lot this week.” His hands lingered on her face, his touch gentle, and Alyril felt safe and at peace.

“Your work is important.”

“You are what’s important.” His hands trailed across her cheeks, brushing against the curve of her neck before settling firmly on her shoulders. “So now that I’ve pulled my head out of my back-end, what shall we do?”

Alyril fought a grin, but failed when she noticed the intensely tender way he watched her. With Gale, she never felt afraid or unsafe. Never felt anything except peace. There weren’t many times in her two hundred years of life that she could say that.

“You said something about the stars?”

He chuckled quietly, mouth against her hair. “You’d truly want me to tear them from the sky? I’m not sure if I’m capable of such a feat.”

“I want you to tell me about them.” She met his gaze, studying how his eyes creased at the sides, how he watched her with nothing but adoration and devotion. “I spent a lot of my childhood in the Underdark. I didn’t know they existed for a long time.”

He brushed a strand of silver hair over her ear, touch lingering against her neck. “Is this your way of getting me to lecture you to sleep?”

“I won’t deny that I enjoy the sound of your voice. Almost as much as you do, in fact.” She teased, earning an affectionate smile in return.

“You’re amusing. And adorable.” Gale glanced at the bowl steaming beside his never ending work and she knew he was contemplating how to rid himself of the food. Without actually eating it. Shaking his head, he turned those eyes on her, pinning her beneath his stare. “And my favorite distraction.”

His arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his body, warming every part of her that touched him. He bent closer to brush a kiss against her lips, a taste of what more awaited her if she wanted it. Perhaps another night, when he wasn’t as exhausted. For tonight, she wanted him close and that was enough.

Taking his hand, she led him to the sofa that faced the large veranda windows, the view of the sea stretching to the horizon. Alyril curled against him once they settled in, resting her head on his chest, eyes focused on him instead, more beautiful than any landscape. There was grey in his beard now, grown a little thicker now, giving him more of that distinguished appearance he craved. His hair was longer as well, usually pulled out of his face during the daily lessons he gave to the girls, but now it hung loosely around his shoulders. She preferred him in this state: relaxed, content, fulfilled.

Gale tilted his head and smiled at her, his fingers stroking against her hair. With a happy sigh, she leaned into him, relaxing against the soft planes of his body, warm and more loved than she’d ever been.

“Let me tell you about the stars.”

#my writing #starknstarwars #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale x tav #tav: alyril'fryn #alyril'fryn x gale

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ma-ri-yana · 8 days

Text

Castaways

A/n: So I ended up not posting this cause I got even busier than I thought I would. Had to keep the homies entertained on the road trip and everything lol. Here’s another one. Thank you all for taking the time to read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy it! :D

Just to warn you, this one’s a bit fluffy and Nikk’s still a dick here, but Cooper’s got your back. And there’s a brief mention of cannibalism but nothing graphic.

Brief summary of the story: you’re an alien on your way to another planet when you crash land on Earth. Cooper’s a ghoul hunting his bounty when he finds you.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6

The structure was silent, save for the mixed snores from the male population of the ship and the humming of the air conditioning that flowed inside of it. And the occasional movements of its occupants, asleep or awake.

Cooper’s eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times. It was so dark in that room that it didn’t make a difference if he’d kept his eyes open or closed. He sat up in the bed he’d been set down onto. The blanket, the sheets, hell, the bed itself, was soft. The softest he’d slept in in almost two hundred years. He brought the blanket back up to his face, caressing his scarred cheeks, lips and gloved fingers against the soft material.

He saw the door open slowly as whoever was entering made their way in. It was you, he could tell because there was a light illuminating your face from the device you had in your hand. You made your way to sit in the chair at the foot of his bed. You brought both your legs up to your seat and crossed them. “I take it you like my blanket?” Cooper heard you say but he didn’t see your lips moving, his eyebrow muscles raising in the confusion. You hadn’t even bothered to look up from your weird rectangular light up doohickey that illuminated your face. It was a tablet, but Cooper didn’t know that. He noticed you had changed into a skin tight jumpsuit, indigo with green linings that nicely hugged your curves, but you’d kept Elena’s face and body on as your disguise. “Yes, I’m speaking to you. You don’t have to say anything, I can hear what you’re thinking. I figured if we spoke like this, we could let your friend rest for a bit longer.”

The old ghoul remained confused for a few more seconds before he said, well, thought, “you ain’t from here…” bringing back the topic from hours prior.

You sighed before speaking to him telepathically again, “thank you, Captain Obvious,” as you continued to play your game on your tablet. You sighed once again once you lost this round before looking up, “sorry, I’m just annoyed. Yes, we’re from a different planet than yours.”

“What’re you gon’ do with us?” He nodded over at his still unconscious friend, who slept like a baby and snored like a fat shitzu with his mouth wide open like he was expecting to be fed while he slept.

“We’ve decided to offer the two of you a set of choices,” you began, only continuing to ‘speak’ once prompted by the man. “You could help us navigate Earth’s terrain to find what we need to repair our ship and what’s safe to ingest once we run out of our supplies…”

“Or?”

“We erase your memories.”

“That’s it?”

You glared at him. “Or we kill you. I’d prefer it if you didn’t pick that option though. I got in a whole world of trouble for it not to be the only one,” your gaze softened and you gave him a soft smile. He squinted sceptically at you. That’s when he saw the skin around one of your eyes had been bruised; not quite purple yet, but there was a discolouration as a result of the hit he’d seen you take earlier. “Not that you deserved it, I just didn’t want it weighing on my conscience.”

“Heh,” the Ghoul chuckled aloud softly, looking down at his lap. He waited a few seconds before letting his mind speak for him, “I’d like to, uh… apologise for the… you know.” He wasn’t one to apologise, not anymore. It felt foreign to him when he did it now. Even when he and James bickered, they didn’t apologise to each other much, they just shrugged it off and moved on as if nothing happened. This new world didn’t leave a lot of room for niceties and etiquette. And his line of work allowed for even less.

“I’ll accept your apology when they do,” you pointed to your brother's sleeping forms with your disguise’s e/c eyes. “So, have you decided?” You crossed your arms, leaning back in your seat. It was quite comfortable, soft.

He questioned your intentions, “and what do I get out of helpin’ y’all find what you need?”

You let out a breath and shook your head in disbelief, “your life?”

“Is that all, honey?”

“What else could you want?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been surviving for two hundred years. You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that to get me to help you.”

“You won’t survive us,” you smirked.

“Try me,” he said aloud, his baritone voice made goosebumps form all over your arms, you shivered but it wasn’t visible to him. It was almost as if he were daring you. You couldn’t believe that after what he’d seen, your threat didn’t phase him. He was a confident man, you had to give him credit for it. But did his confidence come from a place of security in himself for having gotten himself out of nasty situations similar to these? Or did it come from a place of stupidity? You were tempted to assume it was the latter, but the look in his eyes indicated that he’d seen a lot during his extended lifetime.

After what felt like minutes, but were really mere seconds of silence, you spoke to him telepathically again, “those chemicals I saw you inhaling earlier—“

The man gave you a look of disinterest, shifting in the bed to lay back down. “What about ‘em, sweetheart?” He wanted you to cut to the chase, his legs moved around as he got comfortable again.

“I think I know what it is.”

“Who doesn’t?” He scoffed, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“What I mean is that I know how to make it. Not to brag or anything, but my version is better,” you answered smugly. He was about to close his eyes again and go back to sleep when you reached for his bag that was sat next to the table beside your chair. He immediately sat back up and watched you carefully. “May I?”

The ghoul didn’t answer. It didn’t matter though, you took his silence as an invitation to grab the bag and look through it. You grabbed one of his vials, he watched closely as you did, clenching his teeth and balling his hands into fists as if to restrain himself from acting out defensively. “This looks very… diluted,” your voice rang in his head again. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t make it,” his answer was hostile.

“Well, did you ask for them to dilute it?” You asked him telepathically, the tone of voice you used gave away your growing impatience. He could also hear you say something in a different language right after. You needed to reel that back in if you wanted to convince him to help you, so you took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

The bounty hunter furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes, “now, why would I ask for them to do that? Do I look stupid?” He paused for a second before quickly adding, “don’t answer that.” His eyes followed you as you left the room with the vial you’d taken from his old brown bag. Soon, his body followed you too, curious to see what you were going to do with it; he worried you’d destroy it. He needed that vial. If he lost those chems, he’d be in unbearable pain. He couldn’t just let you do that to him. He looked around as he did, trying to act nonchalant and tranquil. He noticed there was a table in the curvy hallway with a pot on top of it, with a plant inside that he’d never seen before. The pot was a metallic purple colour and dented from when it had fallen over, he assumed. The plant itself was moving, its branches slithering around, reaching toward him until it caught wind of the bug that had flown in when they last opened the ship. The plant swatted the bug and ate it. Cooper shot you a glance but you didn’t seem to notice, you only kept walking.

“I’m just taking this over to my lab to deformulate it to see the chemical break down. We have the same product back home but ours is more potent… I want to see what you Earthlings have done to achieve a weaker result.” You informed him as you walked into the laboratory within the aircraft, gently setting the container down on one of the counters and putting on your neon green lab coat. It wasn’t until you’d both reached the laboratory that you started to speak normally, verbally again. The door automatically shut behind Cooper as he walked in. You were able to sense his discomfort, so you took the time to explain to him what you were doing as you did it. You sang songs from your home to yourself while you looked for the materials you needed in the different drawers and cabinets.

You groaned when you realised you didn’t know where your beakers and other instruments were. “Fucking Nikk, always using my shit and never putting it back where it belongs.” You complained, pulling the hair you had on your disguise, Elena’s h/c hair, back into a ponytail. “Morgana~”

How may I assist you today, Ms. Lyri?

“Where’d Nikkand’r leave my beakers?”

Conducting scan, Morgana announced. A bright pink light scanned the room. Your beakers are in the clear storage container in the cabinets next to the emergency wash area.

“Thank you,” you sang, the assistant shut itself off after you thanked her and you stalked over to where the beakers were said to have been. After about five minutes of working on your project, you looked up and noticed the ghoul was still watching you. His green eyes tracking you like he was still going to tie you up and take you to Nevada to collect his ransom. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You heard him chuckle, “gotta make sure you ain’t poisonin’ me.”

“Now, why would I poison you after all the trouble I went through to keep your smooth brain alive, Mr….?”

“You can call me Ghoul.”

You grimace, “what an ugly name.”

The Ghoul laughed as he walked over to you from across the room, “and what’s your name?”

You watched him for a second, taking in his features as he got closer. The scarred skin with a leathery texture. His clothing. His green eyes. “Y/n,” you answered, looking down in confusion at the gloved hand he held out in front of him. “Is this one of those human greeting thingies I’ve seen on your tv programs?”

The man cocked an eyebrow, taken aback by your question, “you watch our tv shows?”

“Yeah, they’re entertaining.”

“You don’t like to watch your own stuff?”

“Of course I do! I just like to engage in the different art forms of different cultures as well. My planet is a very welcoming place, we get a lot of interplanetary tourists, so I grew up enjoying the different styles and takes everyone has on life…” you trailed off, you started to think about how much you missed your home.

Your thoughts were interrupted by his gruff voice, “so are you gon’ keep that on or are you gon’ get comfortable?” His voice grew a bit more distant as he made his way back to his initial spot in the room.

You blinked, looking down at your lab coat, confused, “I think it’s best I keep my lab coat on in case I spill some of these things over—“

“I meant your disguise, honey.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and you exhaled through your nose, “I suppose there’s no point keeping our disguises on while we’re in here,” you shrugged. “I’ll change back once I’ve put this bad boy to cook.”

“Hm…” he hummed, leaning back on the wall. His bald head leaned back against it as well as he looked up at the silver ceiling.

You didn’t like working in quiet environments, so you called Morgana again and asked her to play some music. It was a bit heavy, even for the people back at home, but you loved it. It usually gets the gears in your mind turning.

The Ghoul scrunched up his face as he listened to the rumblings of the drums and the bass guitar and the screaming and growling of the vocals, the heavy metal played as you got your area ready. “This the kind of music your people listen to?”

You shrugged as you continued working, “some do, yes. Why? You don’t like it? I can change it to something else, if you’d like. It’s an acquired taste so I understand if you don’t like it.”

“No, no. It’s just… Interesting…” he paused as if he were deep in thought. In reality, he stopped speaking to listen to the song for a few seconds longer before opening his lips again. “It’s very different from anything I’ve ever heard before.”

“Ah, yes…” you mumble, turning your attention back to your project. “Earth’s music stopped evolving when the bombs hit, right?” You asked a bit louder from where you stood, not bothering to look up at the man in the room.

The Ghoul didn’t answer as he pulled up one of the chairs that had been sitting in the room. He moved his head back in your direction so he could keep watching you labour away. You didn’t seem to mind it anymore, every time your attention was drawn away when you noticed he shifted in position as he watched, your gaze scurried right back to the beaker. You had your playlist of music on shuffle and continued working as the genres of music shifted to a lighter one, but it was still upbeat and kept you concentrated on the task at hand. Drum and bass. The Ghoul watched as you danced and hummed softly to the music while you created your concoction of chemicals.

Finally, you have finished your first batch of RadAway. They were gummy-like in texture and about the size of a quarter. You set a small amount aside in your own glass container and safely packed the rest away into the refrigerator that stood on the other side of the room.

You then moved back to the counter to collect the small sample you’d set aside for him, “care to probarlo?” Your chip switched again.

“Huh?” That was when you realised it had.

You cursed under your breath as you raised your wrist up to get a look at your watch, switching the language back to English (US) on said watch. “Okay, can you understand me now?” He nodded. “Great. I was asking if you wanted to give it a try.” You offered the sample to him, holding it out for him to grab as you watched him tentatively.

“I’m gon’ need my inhaler—“ he turned to make his way back to the room but you stopped him when you interrupted him.

“No you won’t. These are chewable. Similar to chewing tobacco—are you familiar with that? I’ve seen it on tv but I don’t know if that’s still done down here.”

“Yes, I’m familiar. But no, that’s a thing of the past. Tobacco went out of business a while ago.”

“Right…” you thought to yourself quietly, hand still held out. You were drawn out of your trance when you felt the man take the prized item out of its container.

“Here goes nothin’,” you heard him say to no one in particular as he drew the organic radaway away from the container and into his mouth. With his tongue, he swished it around a bit before settling it in front of his bottom left front teeth, sitting against his teeth and gums as he sucked at it. You heard him sigh and watched his irises roll back into his head as he closed his eyes. A minute of silence passed until he finally spoke again, “this is actually not bad at all.”

You smiled softly. You’d heard the lab door open, but hadn’t looked to see who was standing there. “I’m glad you like it—“ your smile dropped when you finally saw Nikkand’r standing at the door with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. You were still, rightfully, upset with him for having punched you in the eye. And you did not feel like engaging with him. Not right now. You were tired.

Once you saw Dimiil was up too, you sighed, “I’m gonna head to bed now, goodnight.”

The Ghoul studied ‘your’ face once more, “you should really put some ice or somethin’ on that, sweetheart.”

“Huh? Oh, right,” you smiled sadly, touching the skin around your eye. It had swollen up quite a bit, it stung when you had touched it. You hissed softly, Cooper caught your hand as if to tell you to stop touching it. You both stared at each other for a second before you snapped out of your thoughts. “Yeah, will do...” You mumbled before you pulled away and started making your way through the open lab door.

You didn’t look at Nikk as you walked back to the other room. You couldn’t stand to look at him after the way he’d been treating you lately. You gave Dimiil a small side hug as you passed him on your way to your room. You didn’t have any confidence your brother wouldn’t try to kill the two ghouls while you slept, but you knew you could trust your eldest brother to keep him in check and stop him if he tried.

When you walked back into your room, you noticed the other ghoul had still been sleeping and snoring up a storm through his open mouth. You didn’t care, you were exhausted. The noise didn’t bother you one bit. You decided to take your disguise off and unlocked your watch, closing out the application that had activated the disguise. You were back in your own pink skin. Your long, curly purple hair fell at your sides as you removed the hair tie from your head. You hadn’t slept very well and you were eager to just plop yourself and cover yourself in your blanket to shelter yourself from the freezing cold air conditioning. Your brother, Dimiil always kept his promises. It was because of this that you were able to let yourself drift off into a very deep sleep fairly quickly.

The sun rose, wildlife waking up with it. Birds chirped and creepy crawlies started their day as the ground started to warm up. Not that this affected the spaceship or its inhabitants. The structure was climate controlled with a/c running through it consistently. Their space rv, for all intents and purposes, had its own ecosystem, with all the plants that moved around within it and the adopted irradiated wolf. You haven’t been here for more than a week now, as of today and you’d already started domesticating animals and kidnapping the locals with minimal effort. In your defence, the local population tried kidnapping you first. And unlike other alien species that had touched down on this planet, you weren’t looking to experiment on the planet’s natives; you only wished to go home.

The days weren’t easy for you, Nikk was restless and irate and took his anger out on you. Dimiil wanted to remain as neutral as he could and while he did step in every so often, he didn’t interfere in Nikk’s antics all that much. The ghouls weren’t as bad of company as you thought they’d be. You found them easier to be around than your own family at this point; and it pained you deeply. It hurt you that you couldn’t stand Nikki anymore. And that hurt only fed your resentment for him and his treatment of you. While the three of you aliens were eager to make it back home, you’d all agreed to take a few days to rest and recuperate from the events that had taken place a week ago, much to Nikk’s chagrin.

When you awoke, you awoke alone in your room in your own bed. You’d slept in your normal form. In your own body, for all intents and purposes. You’d missed it. The other form was physically taxing to hold up for long periods of time. You hadn’t noticed the tension held in your body until you felt the relief when it was shut off the first night you spent on Earth. You’d spent parts of the day in your disguise when exploring the wilderness around you and the rest in your true form.

Although it was early in the morning, the house was far from quiet. You could hear four sets of rumbustious voices yelling back and forth at each other. Well, primarily three voices, Nikk’s, Dimiil’s and James’. The fourth would add input every so often but mostly listened.

You groaned, gathering the energy to get out of your silky soft bed. If you’d just laid down for a while longer, fallen back asleep, you could pretend you were back home. Back home where you’d be able to talk to your friends when you wanted to. Back home where you could sing and dance somewhat alone in your room whenever you felt like it. Back home during a time when you didn’t have to worry about the imminent threat on your planet. Your heart ached for some form of closure. Being in a state of limbo, not knowing if everything was okay or not, was driving you nuts. You were sure that your brothers felt the same. Which was why you were fairly forgiving of Nikkand’r for acting the way he had been. But he’d taken it too far. Not too far for you to attempt mending your relationship, but definitely far enough to make you want some space from the youngest member of the group for some time before you made said attempt.

After about twenty minutes of the ongoing ruckus, you finally pushed yourself to sit up, sweeping your legs over to the floor and sliding your shoes on. You were going to have to face the ‘music’ sooner or later.

You heard the booming noises growing louder and louder, you assumed they were making their way over to the room. The door raised itself fairly quickly, Nikk had rushed through. “What do you want now?” You asked, not bothering to look up at your younger brother who towered over you. Instead you glanced at the Ghoul who looked at your brother as if he was waiting to see what he’d do. You’d noticed he had his hand on his holster. You wondered if your brothers knew he’d taken his gun back or if the Ghoul had taken it without their knowledge. “Don’t.” He heard your voice ring in his head, immediately, his hand moved back down to his side, but his eyes didn’t leave the young man.

Dimiil stepped between the two of you with his back facing you. “Nikk, calm down.”

“So did you have a game plan? Or were you just planning to force us to bring these two creeps along to so they could fuck you and take all our supplies while we did all the hard work?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” the eldest brother warned him, looking down on him menacingly.

Nikk glared at him and growled before storming off, making sure to hit his shoulder against the Ghoul’s as he walked through the doorway. James turned to his friend and mouthed what a fuckin’ weirdo.

“Y/n, I don’t know why he’s acting like this, but please be—“

You glared up at your brother. You didn’t say anything; not verbally, not telepathically. But Dimiil knew you wanted him to be quiet so he cut himself off. You knew he was going to ask you, once again, to be patient with your little brother. And you were trying to be, but you didn’t know what happened to make him turn into such a dick all of a sudden. You understood he was under a lot of stress, you all were, but you didn’t understand why he was only taking it out on you.

You felt alone, surrounded by a group of people that didn’t have your back. Nikk was always picking on you and Dimiil kept begging you to keep taking it. You needed some time to actually be alone with your thoughts. You couldn’t stand to be around them today and the day had just started. You started to walk out of the room when Dimiil grabbed your arm, you felt your rising blood pressure start to lower again. He was trying to manipulate your emotions. You screamed at him. The sound was—inhuman as Cooper described it to himself. A blend of different high pitches escaped your mouth at the same time. The other alien let you go and watched you storm out.

You could feel Nikk’s eyes on you as you walked out of the ship, “hey! Don’t leave without your disguise, you fucking idiot!” You heard him say. You didn’t listen and walked out anyway, not caring to engage with his pointless commentary.

When you made your way outside, you noticed a tree trunk that laid on the floor. The whole tree had been knocked down, in the crash, you supposed. You sat on it and looked up at the sky. You closed your eyes when they had caught the sun. The Earth’s main star didn’t burn as brightly as the one your home planet orbited, but it still bothered your eyes. You heard the crunching of footsteps making their way toward you but you didn’t care to see who had followed you out. Not until a gloved hand held some kind of meat in front of your face, “want some?” You heard him say.

“No thanks, Ghoul.”

The Ghoul shrugged and sat down next to you; you scooted a bit further down to add some space between you two. You liked your personal space and you were already in a bad spot emotionally, you weren’t going to compromise there on top of it. The Ghoul didn’t take any offence to it, he’d been used to having people distance themselves from him. “How’re you feelin’?” He asked you as he chewed on his suspicious meat.

“Not good,” you answered simply, chuckling awkwardly as you hunched over; your elbows resting on your thighs while you buried your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I can only imagine…” he didn’t want to speak out of turn and insult your brother, so he didn’t. But boy, did he not like that kid. He didn’t really know what to talk about but he also didn’t want to leave you alone to your own devices. He didn’t know why but he wanted to be there for you in some kind of way. He chalked it up to him having some kind of odd sense of gratitude toward you for having fought to spare his life when you hadn’t needed to. He wrestled with his thoughts in the silence you both shared until he found something to talk to you about. “So, music…”

You sat up slowly, intrigued by the topic, and looked to your side at him, “what about music?”

“Do you listen to it a lot?” Wow, he sounded like an idiot. He wasn’t used to making small talk with strangers. Not in the way he used to be. Before the war, small talk and making connections were things that came easy to him; they were part of his everyday life. After the war, the only conversationalist around him was James. Man, did that kid never shut up. He always seemed to have something to talk about and did a lot of the talking for him when they worked together. His social skills were a bit rusty, only used when necessary, but never used for instances like this. Instances where he wanted to make some kind of a connection with someone new.

You grinned, that was the first time he saw you get excited like that. He noticed your antennas were emitting light. “I love music. I’m actually a musician.”

“So, what? Did you crash land while you were on some kind of an intergalactic tour?”

You giggled, “oh, how I wish that were the case…” you shook your head. “No, I’m part of my planet’s military…” you paused, listening to him chew on his food for a second before continuing to speak. You didn’t know why, but you found his loud chewing to be amusing. “My home is currently at war with another planet.”

The Ghoul’s bald eyebrow rose and he scoffed, speaking with his mouth full, “can’t avoid it anywhere, huh?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you waited for him to notice you were unsure what he was talking about so he could elaborate for you. It didn’t take him long at all to notice your confusion, “war, huh? War don’t change no matter where you go, does it?”

“Ah,” you nodded. “I suppose not…” Your eyes scanned him up and down, landing on his hand. “What are you munching on?”

“Wanna try?” He offered again, “it’s jerky.”

“I don’t know…”

“I don’t like to share my food, bunny, so if I were you, I’d take advantage. I ain’t gon’ offer again.” That seemed to be enough to convince you. You shrugged and took the piece he was holding out. It was chewier than you were expecting it to be. You silently chewed it for a while. The Ghoul watched you closely. “What do you think?”

“Can’t talk, mouth full,” you answered, pointing to your mouth. He chuckled softly as he observed you. His eyes ran over your features: your rose pink skin covered in lighter pink tattoos, your rose pink face and plump lips, your antennas that changed colours as you spoke, your periwinkle hair that turned a light shade of blue in the sun. You were something he’d never seen before; but you were beautiful even still. You were an… ethereal beauty. He would’ve been caught staring at you if it weren’t for the fact that you were distracted by the food in your mouth and the forest around you. He looked at your violet eyes as they trailed around to look at the birds that flew from tree to tree. The bruise you had was starting to fade and the swelling had gone down quite a bit. The fact that you even had that bruise on your face in the first place pissed him off. He’d ignore it for now as much as he could. He wanted to help you take your mind off it, not dwell in it. Finally, you finished chewing, swallowing the jerky down before speaking again. “You know, it wasn’t all that bad… what’s it made of?”

“Human meat,” the Ghoul answered honestly, unsure of how you’d take the blatant cannibalism. He was more surprised when you didn’t seem all that phased by the factoid. Well, not as much as he thought one should be.

“Hm… You eat humans?” You questioned him. You weren’t bothered he’d just fed you human meat, it wasn’t like you were eating your own; but you were partly surprised he partook in it.

He felt slightly embarrassed, unsure if he wanted to tell you this, but he decided to answer honestly anyway. You didn’t seem to care all that much anyway. “Yes.”

“Hm…” you hummed again, quieting down for a second before speaking up again. “I wanted to be a famous singer…” you held your hand out, wordlessly asking for another piece of human jerky. He didn’t hesitate to set it down on your open palm.

“Really?” The Ghoul answered, you nodded as you took a small bite of the jerky so you could speak to him without being silenced by food. “Why didn’t you go for it?” He took a big bite out of his meat stick.

You sighed, “my planet… we value art… but there are so many artists of all kinds… the competition is high. I would’ve just struggled my whole life and I wanted to settle down eventually. I didn’t want to start a family the way my parents did, without having my finances in order... So I decided to join the military. It was the next best thing.”

He nodded slowly before gently nudging you in the side with his elbow, “I’ll bet you had no clue you were gon’ end up here in this shithole. Hah! Neither did I.” He laughed bitterly.

You shook your head and giggled. But your giggles died down when you noticed Nikkand’r was walking out of the ship. You rolled your eyes as he marched his way over to you. The Ghoul had noticed him as well and stood up in front of you protectively. “Are we planning this shit out or what? We’ve been parked here twiddling our thumbs.” Your brother complained, his eyes ran all over the place, not wanting to look at you or the Ghoul that stood in front of him with his bald eyebrow cocked up as if he were silently daring the alien to try something.

“Yeah,” you stood up, ignoring his attitude and wiping your hands on your jumpsuit. You stepped to the side to get out from behind the human and stalked off into the spaceship. Nikk followed behind you and Cooper followed Nikk, keeping a close eye on him as you walked. He didn’t trust that guy as far as he could throw him— which he imagined wasn’t far. He’d be able to throw him farther if he’d thrown him off a bridge. He almost chuckled to himself at the thought.

Once inside, you noticed your other brother and James were standing next to each other, involved in a deep conversation about who knows what. They stopped talking once they noticed the three of you had entered. “Everything better now?” Dimiil asked you. You simply glared at him and looked away. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “here’s a list of the materials we need to fix our ship.” He handed the paper over to James and handed another copy over to Cooper. The older bounty hunter simply looked it over silently.

The younger bounty hunter grimaced, “I don’t know what half this shit is. Can y’all tell us in human terms?”

“I did put this in human terms…” he questioned himself, “didn’t I?”

You looked over the Ghoul’s shoulder at the list and nodded, “you did.”

“Girl, I don’t understand half this nonsense,” James complained as he stared at the paper and flipped it over and pointed to it so you could see what he was looking at. “What the fuck is Ti supposed to stand for?”

Dimiil chuckled, “titanium.”

“Okay and what about Uf?”

“Ubanifarium,” you answered calmly.

“What the fuck is that?”

Nikkand’r rolled his eyes and scoffed. Everyone in the room ignored him. The Ghoul decided to speak up, he looked you right in the eye as he did so, “sweetheart, we aren’t scientists… we may not be able to figure out what these materials are to get ‘em for you.” He cleared his throat and glanced at James and Dimiil before his green eyes travelled back to your violet irises. “But, I’ll tell you what… We can try to find some scientists that can help y’all with all of that.”

Nikk complained, “great, we’ll get to deal with more smelly shitheads—“

“Dude, shut the fuck up already,” you said, your eyebrows knitted themselves together as you looked over at the grouch from where you stood. You were sick of his attitude and the way he’d been treating you. And you weren’t going to let him talk down on your… guests. For lack of a better word. They were going to help you all navigate this foreign planet and your brother was spitting on your only chance at hope.

The youngest alien marched over to you and raised his hand to strike you, the Ghoul caught it and glared at him. “Get your nasty fingers off me, leather face.” The alien scowled.

The elder bounty hunter didn’t say anything, he only turned to look at you as if to silently ask you what you wanted him to do. You shook your head and Cooper let him go. Nikk moved backwards. James stood off to the side with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, he seemed to be amused by the scene. Cooper noticed it and grunted, stepping aside and crossing his arms as well.

Dimiil sighed, tired of his brother’s antics but not willing to confront him about it with everyone in the room. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he held out his hand for a handshake. He knew of certain human customs from having watched movies with you when you were growing up.

“You can leave all the science shit to the scientists. We’ll help with whatever else as long as he keeps his damned mouth shut and his hands to himself,” the elder ghoul added, looking Dimiil in the eye.

The eldest alien nodded and shook his hand once the ghoul had grabbed his, “I’ll try my best. I apologise for my brother’s stupidity.”

“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to her,” he nodded in your direction. You couldn’t help the small smile that grew onto your face, you covered it with your hand and pretended to cough to try and wipe it clean off your face. Afterwards, you held out your hand and, without skipping a beat or even having to look at you, the Ghoul passed you more of the jerky you’d been chewing on earlier.

“So which direction do you suggest we go to find the scientists we’d need to get in contact with, Mr. Ghoul?” You asked, taking small bites once again to ensure you’d be able to speak and eat the meat at the same time if needed. The way you looked up at him and asked for his advice made his cold heart flutter in a way that he hadn’t thought was possible after all the years that had passed since his divorce with his wife. Almost two whole centuries ago. When the world hadn’t been mauled by nuclear weaponry.

“Hey, Ghoul,” James called, making his way over to his dear friend. Once he’d reached him, he held his hand out the way you did. “Can I get me some of that jerky?”

The Ghoul looked at the man like he had lost his mind and scrunched up his face, pulling the jerky close to his chest. “No.”

—————————————————————————————

Don’t try to look up Uf in the periodic table cause it doesn’t exist LMFAO I made it up for the story 🤪 anyway, thank you for reading this once again! I’ll post the next chapter soon!

#50s 60s alien aesthetic #alien reader #alien reader x ghoul cooper howard #alien x ghoul #aliens and ufos #cooper howard x reader #cooper x reader #fallout #fallout tv show #the ghoul #fluff #fluffy fic #ghoul fluff

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artyandink · 1 month

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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️

three - landslide

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. “This is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didn’t go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.”

“Tough case, huh?” Beau sighed, folding his arms. “No prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ain’t giving you much to work with.”

“No kidding.” Jenny looked over the case files. “Lucy didn’t have any enemies, by what this file says.”

“She didn’t.” I shook my head, sitting on the table. “Luce, she was… an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. I’ll be damned if anyone hated her.”

“No motive.” Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “Could this just be a random crazed psycho?”

“No.” I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. “Can’t be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ain’t resting until I find them.”

“Do we at least have any leads?” Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. “Any at all?”

“The cassette.” I shrugged. “It’s the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, it’s Lucy’s 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doin’ bad karaoke in the living room.”

“So this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.”

“Somebody was sending threats.” Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. “Think about it. Her voice ain’t exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.”

“A necklace.” My head perked up, my fingers snapping. “One of ‘em, it contained a raven’s feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.”

“So she’d know it symbolises death and/or loss.” Jenny added, nodding. “That’s a start.”

“That also narrows it down.” Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. “Somebody had to know she’d understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.” He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. “At least you’re closer than you were before.”

“Hold on, though.” I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. “If that’s the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me… why now? Why at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”

“Maybe it was something personal, something important to her.” Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe she wanted Olivia’s sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.”

“That’s what’s stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, I’d understand, I don’t get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Is Lucy’s phone still kept safe?” Beau asked, deep in thought. “Maybe there’s some voicemails on there.”

“I’ll have to dig them up.” I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadn’t seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I don’t know why I saved the number.

“Who is it, darlin’?” Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.

“Again with the darlin’?” Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. “Cal Joyner.”

“The cheating dad Cal Joyner?”

“Yeah.” I nodded breathily. “He’s… here. In Montana.”

“Your dad in town, the cassette tape, this can’t be a coincidence. If it is, I’ll eat my hat. And trust me,” He chuckled deeply, “I love my hat.”

“There’s also how you can’t eat a hat.” Jenny contradicted with a judging look.

“I’m the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.”

“Right, let’s get off the subject of eating hats.” I interrupted with a snicker. “I’ll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucy’s death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.” I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. “Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassie’s office, knocking before opening the door to find… Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.

Well, it’s not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickin’ desk.

“Woah, Cassie, get some.” I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You too, Cormac, haven’t forgotten you. Montana’s Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a mo’?”

“Gladly.” Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “Beau and Jenny won’t hear a thing.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.

“You’re welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.” I frowned, running a hand through my hair. “We’re reopening my sister’s case.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Indeed. We’ll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dad’s in town too, so I’ll have to see what’s up with that.”

“Wait- Cal Joyner?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Cheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?”

“The very same.” I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. “Yeah, so I have to find out why he’s in town now when evidence from my sister’s case has suddenly resurfaced.”

“I’ll get on that with Denise.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.” I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” She sighed.

“No, absolutely not.”

I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucy’s broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Mom’s arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucy’s eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucy’s sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbour’s son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.

My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guy’s brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldn’t fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didn’t look at me the way they used to anymore.

Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the ‘withdrawal symptoms’ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.

Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)

I couldn’t help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so he’d get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didn’t even feel real at this point.

After that point, I’d sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sister’s murderer, I’d neglected what I really needed to preserve. So I’d set up a rule - that men weren’t my priority.

“Aunt Isa?” Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.

“Yeah, sweetheart? It’s late; are you ok?” I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didn’t wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. “C’mere, darlin’.” She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nightmare. About mom’s death.”

“You didn’t see your mom dyin’, sweetie.” I kissed her hair lovingly. “It wasn’t real.”

“I imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.” I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.

“Oh, Liv.” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you had to imagine that.”

“Is this how you felt?” She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. “When you… when you found her?”

I paused, thinking about it. “If I was to describe it, it’d be like my world’s walls were fallin’ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ain’t due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopin’ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldn’t be more prouder of you, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nuzzled my cheek on her head. “You’re such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, she’d never wanna let you go.” I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone ‘love’ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tape…

I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.

“I took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...”

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. “Talk to me, Cassie.” I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.

‘Hey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.’

“Cormac, huh?”

‘Yes. Now, we’re keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.’

“Gotcha.” I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. “Sheriff, can I have you as backup? So I don’t blow up at my dad?”

“Yeppers, let’s go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.” He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.

“Beau, as be nice as you can.” Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.

“Sorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,” Beau made finger guns at me, “then I hate him.” He turned the finger guns on himself. “Can’t help it, it’s principle. Now, c’mon, Belle. Let’s meet this dude.”

I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. “D’you mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?” He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donno’s sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.

“Elle.” He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but I’d come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.

“Donno.” I grinned, feeling more at ease. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. “You were shot.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you ok?”

“I was shot, good eye.” I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. “But hey, I’m doing fine. Healing.”

“Good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. “That’s your dad. If you’re looking for him.”

I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. “Thanks, Donno.”

“You and Sheriff. You make a good couple.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. “Uh… thank you, but we’re not a couple.” And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. “Cal Joyner.”

“Can I help you?” He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, sir.” Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. I’d mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.

“Deputy Isabelle Joyner.” I added, which, as expected, made Cal’s eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.

“Isabelle?” He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. “You’re… oh, God. It’s really you. My little girl.”

“Back up for a moment, cowboy, I’m not here for a family reunion.” I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. “I’m here to know why you’re in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.”

“It was my granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.” He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. “I had to visit, right? But this town’s so big, i-it’s hard to find anybody-”

“You’re lying.” Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.

“Excuse me, young man?”

“Flattered, but I’m forty. Ain’t that young.”

“He’s right, Cal. You’re lying.” I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, he’d had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.

“Isabelle.” Cal gasped in disbelief. “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your father?”

“Not to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so I’m sure I can trust him over a man who’s been out of my life for thirty seven years.” Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. “You’re fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I don’t see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.

“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.

“See here, Mr Joyner, you are Belle’s father, and I will respect you that much, but a lot’s happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.” He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. “Now, you’re gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or we’re gonna find out usin’ methods that you won’t approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.”

“It’s good that you elaborated.”

“Yeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.” Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay put.”

“You know I can’t do that.” I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasn’t healed yet, so I couldn’t fight.

“Stay. Put.” He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. “Sheriff’s department, hands where I can see ‘em!” My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.

“Elle!” She cried out, looking terrified. “Behind you!” I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time.

After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.

Neither of them felt great.

I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beau’s shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall… what the guy looked like. I could remember… grey hair, possibly Mexican… or Hispanic… strong… build… 6’ 4”…

“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”

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Love, Arty 💕

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