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jo-harrington · 1 year

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Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"What do you guys think he's doing?"

"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"

"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."

"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"

The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.

"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"

"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.

"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.

"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"

"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.

If they only knew.

It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.

For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.

On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.

He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.

Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.

He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.

Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.

Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.

Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.

The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.

"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."

"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."

"You know I hate secrets."

"And he tried to bribe Will."

The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.

He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."

The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.

"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.

Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.

As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.

He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.

Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.

He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.

And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.

As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.

First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?

He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.

Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.

Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.

And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.

What if the answer was Nancy all along?

It almost made him feel a little sick.

Except...

She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.

As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.

"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.

Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.

"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."

"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.

"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."

Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.

It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...

"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."

"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"

Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.

"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"

Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.

It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.

"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.

He had a date with Nancy.

Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.

Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.

He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...

Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.

He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.

The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.

He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.

However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.

That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.

He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.

He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.

By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.

Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.

Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”

This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.

Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.

“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”

“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”

“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”

Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.

“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”

“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”

“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.

“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.

“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.

Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.

He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.

“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.

Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.

"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.

The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.

"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.

A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another's eyes. If what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.

Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.

A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.

This wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.

"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.

Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.

"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.

"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.

"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."

"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?

"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"

"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"

"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"

"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."

Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.

Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.

"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.

"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."

"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.

The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.

"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.

If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...

But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?

As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.

As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.

Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.

"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."

If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.

So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.

But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.

He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.

And he really needed his best friend right now.

Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.

Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.

Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.

The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.

"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.

She sighed and began counting on her fingers.

“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”

She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.

And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.

"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."

She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.

"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."

Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.

"You know what? You're right."

"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."

They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.

After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.

She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.

Eventually though...the topic turned to you.

When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.

Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.

You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.

Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.

But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.

"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."

At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.

If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.

But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.

What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...

Eddie felt sick.

Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.

But he couldn't.

So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.

To Benny's.

Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.

And to you.

You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.

But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.

Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.

The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.

"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"

"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"

"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."

"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?

His ears started ringing; there it was again.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.

"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"

Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.

"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.

"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."

You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.

"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"

"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"

"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.

Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...

Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.

"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."

Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.

"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.

Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.

"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.

"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!

"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"

You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.

He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.

You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.

In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...

What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?

Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.

The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.

You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.

"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."

And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.

Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.

"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.

"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."

"Impossible."

It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.

He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.

"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.

Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--

There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.

--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.

Shit.

"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.

Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.

"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."

Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.

"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."

"It's late, just go to bed Steven."

"No, I--"

"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.

Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--

The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.

--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.

Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.

"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.

"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"

"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.

For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.

No one expected that...

"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.

"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.

"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."

She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.

He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.

On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.

Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.

Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.

Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.

But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.

Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.

You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?

After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?

It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.

What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?

You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.

Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?

You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.

But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.

You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.

Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.

"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."

You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.

God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...

You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.

Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.

Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.

In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.

And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.

"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.

This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.

"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."

"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.

"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."

Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."

How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.

Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.

What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.

Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.

"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.

"I'm sorry Ben I--"

"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"

"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.

"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"

Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.

Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.

You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.

Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?

You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.

"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."

Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.

It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.

"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."

She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.

"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."

She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.

It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.

Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?

Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.

But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.

He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.

He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.

A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.

He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.

Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.

"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.

Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.

"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."

"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.

Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.

"What did you do to my jacket?"

"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."

"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."

Eddie shook his head. Asshole.

"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.

"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"

"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."

Kissy faces?

"From Nancy Wheeler!"

Wheeler?

"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.

"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."

"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend...yet."

Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?

He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.

"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."

"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.

"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.

"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.

"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."

"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."

"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."

"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."

"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."

Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.

He just didn't care.

Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.

Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"

There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.

Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?

"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."

"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"

"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."

"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.

"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.

"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.

"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."

"What about your friends? What about Robin?"

"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."

"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"

"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"

Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.

Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.

There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.

"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."

“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”

It was the perfect date. Again.

Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.

Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.

There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.

Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.

Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.

You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.

"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."

As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.

It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.

He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.

"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.

"Like the Rolling Stones."

"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."

"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."

You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.

It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.

Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.

And now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.

Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.

Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.

So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--

The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.

—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.

Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.

Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.

You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.

“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”

Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cuz you had a good time?”

“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"

"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

No. That was mortifying.

"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.

"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

That was just the natural progression of dating right?

You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.

Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.

Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...

"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."

"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."

You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.

The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.

But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.

Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.

He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.

"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."

A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom

No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.

"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"

"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.

An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.

Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.

You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.

There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.

He tasted like...

Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.

But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.

Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.

"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"

But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.

You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.

You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.

"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."

Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.

On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.

If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too.

The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.

He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.

If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.

“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”

“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.

“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”

Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”

Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.

More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.

You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.

Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously; calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.

Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.

“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”

He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen.

“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.

He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.

Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”

“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him.

Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.

“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.

“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.

“P-please, more.”

Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights.

"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"

The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.

“Please!”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Please I’ve—“

“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”

"P-please S-Steve!"

Eddie froze.

His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.

"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"

Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.

He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—

The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.

--he couldn't even look at himself.

“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.

He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.

He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys.

Not his keys.

Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.

Not his.

He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.

All the while you called and ran after him.

"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"

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Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.

#freaky friday au #Eddie Munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson smut #Steve Harrington angst #Eddie Munson fluff #Steve Harrington fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson headcanons

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acaaai-t · 1 year

Text

resurface, my love

01. whispers of the wind

[fem! reader x villain! scaramouche]

cw: violence, blood, kidnapping, usage of guns, mentions of illegal drug trades, lots of cursing, bits of fluff and angst

Scaramouche was pissed.

It was evident with the grip he had on the newspaper.

His subordinates stood in the corner of the room, heads downcast. No words were spoken, for none wishes to be the one suffering under the wrath of the Balladeer.

On the small HD television hanging above his desk, a news broadcast began to play. Scaramouche brought his eyes up to watch it, his interest piqued.

"Our ever reliable detective has once again solve another puzzling crime! This breakthrough of the undergoing illegal drug trade has finally been stopped. So how did you do it, young detective?"

The camera panned to your face. He narrowed his eyes.

"Well, someone gave an anonymous tip about the whereabouts of the drug trade. All I did was crack the code and—" he switched the television off.

The silence was deafening.

Scaramouche slammed the newspaper to the side, the sound resonating around the too-empty room.

"How the fuck did you guys mess up this badly?" he growled. "I gave specific instructions and none of you were able to follow it?" His voice had an dangerous edge to it.

The room was still.

"You," he snarled, pointing at the male agent trembling in the corner. "Tell me everything that happened."

…

"You look worn out, are you alright?" your boss, Kujou Sara, asked.

You waved your hand. "I'm fine, it's just being surrounded by cameras all day drained me."

Sara laughed and patted your back. "I wouldn't be surprise. This case has been ongoing for years, you're the only one who've managed to close it."

"Well it was mostly thanks to that anonymous tip. If it wasn't for that, I feel this would never end," you said, a tired smile appearing.

"You are our best decoder here, couldn't replace you even if I tried," Sara said. "I'll take my leave now. You should quickly finish up too, everyone left already. Don’t tire yourself out too much.”

You nodded. "Night Sara."

The door clicked shut.

What was that message suppose to mean? Was it meant to be a threat? Should I tell Sara?— what if it was just a harmless prank?

You mindlessly typed away on your computer, yet you just could not bring yourself to focus on your work. It was unrelenting with the way it kept repeating over and over again in your mind.

The typing stopped. You couldn't bear it any longer. This continuous heavyweight of stress will only keep growing, festering until the host, you, finally suffocate under the pressure. It begs— screams to be free.

Pushing your chair back, you walked over to your window and nudged it opened it. A puff of the chilly autumn air gently tugged at the collar of your shirt.

The light glimmer of the moonlight was a dull comparison to the galaxy of clinquant star, the glittering white specks stretching across the vast skies of Teyvat.

"Stars..” you breathed out.

The two of you use to stargaze. It was a monthly routine, whenever the skies cleared the clouds for the river of stars to sparkle— was when the two of you lay next to each other on the grass, facing the deep blue empyrean.

He would point out the various constellations to you, rambling on about what it was and what it meant.

"I never thought you would be the one into astrology," you said. "Thought it was just a me thing."

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. "I'm a man of many things, what did you expect?"

You laughed.

No, he would never admit it.

He'd rather die than tell you that he'd learn about the stars of the sky just so he could tell you everything about it. He'd rather die than tell you that it was all because he wanted to see you smile, to hear your laughter. To see the surprise that lights up your eyes.

You wiped away an unsuspecting tear rolling down your cheeks. Everything was a constant reminder that the boy you once love is gone.

You hated it.

You could only drown yourself in work, taking on more cases than you should in an effort to forget his voice, his face— everything. But no matter how hard, how much you try, it just doesn't work.

For you could still feel the ghost of his touch brushing against your cheek, you could still hear his voice, calling out to you.

The soft humming of your computer brought you back.

Right, there was still work needed to be to finish. You sighed and pushed yourself away from the window.

"I'll just finish this page up, then l'll clock out," you muttered.

You sat back down on your chair and spun around in a useless attempt to calm your mind. A golden glint in the corner of your room caught your eye. You stopped spinning.

What's that?

It was a tiny pin in a shape of a badge. You squinted closer, there was an insignia stamp on it. It closely resembled something, yet you couldn't placed your mind on exactly what it is. You took out your phone and snapped a picture of it. Sending the picture to Heizou, you had made sure to ask him if he knew what that insignia represented.

Plink!

Startled, you looked up to where the source of noise came from, but there was nothing. It just you alone in your office.

Plink!

There it was again. You frowned, tucking your phone into your back pocket.

Suddenly the lights dimmed. Someone had cut the power to the entire building.

There wasn't enough time for you to react, for you froze—words caught up in your throat. You could see it, the tiny crack appearing on the windowpane. Whatever it was, it was slowly breaking down the barrier protecting you from the outside.

Slowly backing off, you reached for the gun tucked under your desk. The crack grew bigger. A silhouette of a person came into view. Your hands curled around the handle of the gun and tore it away from the hostler. A quick click had your gun locked and loaded.

You held your breath and slid under your desk.

The spiderweb crack only grew bigger before it effectively shattered— a loud 'ouch' following suit. Whoever was behind it must've gotten impatient and opted to punch through the glass instead.

Your eyes mirrored the reflection of the crumbling glass under the moonlight.

“Stupid lieutenants... always making me do the dirty work..." you heard the unknown muttering. A male— judging by the pitch of his voice.

There was the sound of glass breaking as the shadow of a man clambered in though the window, effectively blocking your only source of light.

He's in.

You dare not move.

"Anyone here? Hello?" his voice was gruff. "Hey little girl, I know you're in here. I saw you."

He stopped right at your desk and shoved the chair away.

You heard it crash into the bookshelf. A pair of dirty winter boots was all you could see.

Go away, you don't see me.

Much to your dismay, he didn't leave. You felt the blood rush up to your head when you saw him slowly bending down.

Fuck.

You came face to face with a man in dressed black and teal, a tall navy blue hat along with his black mask obscured his face. The only visible feature you could see was his golden orbs.

"Found you," there was a malicious glint in his eyes.

You didn't know what overcame you. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or it was purely on instinct— but whichever it may be had you aiming the gun at his face. You didn't think twice, squeezing your eyes shut and pulling the trigger. The resonating bang made you wince.

His figure went still, then slowly, he toppled backwards and crashed onto the floor— a pool of ugly red blood slowly seeping out.

I killed him.

"Hey Cor are you okay? I heard a gun go off," a new voice trailed over. The moonlight was once blocked again, a flashlight glaring over at corpse. "Cor— holy shit! Guys over here, hurry up! Cor?! Are you alive?!"

You wasted no time in scrambling away from the expired individual. The door nearly flew off its hinges as you bursted through. Fuck if the damages you've done would cost you a portion of your monthly salary, all it mattered to you was getting out. If you were fast enough, you could make it to the nearest police station to report the break-in— and attempted kidnapping.

The attackers were hot in pursuit. You heard the ever so familiar sound of a gun being loaded. A bullet whizzed by you, hitting the wooden structure of the building. You heard the wall cracked just the slightest bit.

The Tenryo House has never been so big before. Room after rooms, there just never seem to be an end to it. Your lungs burned. Everything seemed like a maze.

Suddenly a group of two blocked the only way you could escape. You looked back, the other band was also rapidly approaching. “Shit…” you mumbled. There were people blocking the only exit. You could only conclude that the perimeter of the building was also surrounded.

"Hey little girl," you could hear the heinous intent in his voice. "Now why don't you surrender? It'll be so much easier.

"As if,” you sneered, gun raised.

One of the bigger guys stepped forward. You tensed up, the rhythm of your heart beating in your head. He charged at you, his knife aimed for your eye.

Years of training kicked in. The gun was immediately lowered. You dodged to one side, barely avoiding death.

Scaramouche’s voice echoed in your head.

"You need to learn how to fight," Scaramouche had demanded.

"What? Why?" at that time you had complained. "I don't need to know how to fight. Can't you protect me?"

You frantically looked around, searching for anything that could be of help. Your gun was near useless, for you could clearly see the thick bulletproof vest strapped on tightly.

A knife, a wrench, anything you could use to defend yourself, to kill. You yelped as the knife whooshed by, just missing your head by a hairs breadth.

By this time the other group had already caught up, their weapons were locked on you. None dared fired yet, for why ruin a show spectacularly put on for them?

"I- I won't always be around to protect you," was his reply.

The front desk spilt in half, pens spilling everywhere.

Your opponent had long abandoned his knife— tossed away somewhere. Instead, he chose to use his fists. It was like playing tag but deadlier with a block of pure muscle.

You could only run. The only advantage you have over him was your nimbleness. You were a graceful swan drifting in the smooth waters, and he was the stark contrast— a giant stumbling through a cave too small.

There was no way you could escape from the Commission without him decking you.

You were beaten near unconscious. Bruises bloomed all over your body, specks of blood and dust dirtied your dress.

His fists were curled up into tiny balls. Dirt and grime covered his clothes in ugly splotches of brown. He wiped a bloody streak away from his face. His gaze was piercing as he stared down the two boys.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he sounded insane.

When his fists made contact with your stomach, you could do nothing, your wind knocked out of you. The second hit came, then the third, fourth.

You stumbled backwards each time the blow came upon you. Blocking each hit was getting increasingly difficult.

The light flickered back to life. For just the briefest moment, everyone paused. Then the lightbulb promptly exploded, leaving the room once again pitch-black.

That seconds under the bright light was your newfound source of energy, for you had saw everything you needed to know. Pushing away the pain throbbing in your lower abdomen, you made a break for the blade lying on the floor.

He was upon you almost instantly.

You felt an immense pressure on top of you. Your breath was knocked out. Yet despite this, you still grabbed onto the dagger and wrenched it towards yourself.

Mere seconds was all you need, an opening of some sort. Perhaps the gods above heard your wishes, for he suddenly froze over.

Seizing this moment, you jammed the knife into the only opening you found— his eye. Blood slowly dripped down his face, the knife firmly lodged in. With minor difficulty, you pulled the knife out.

It was then that his cries of pain came. You were released from his hold, tumbling to the side. His comrades ran to his side, a roll of bandages already in their hands.

You took this chance to run. In a way you felt bad, but it was a life or death situation. It was either you or him, and there can only be one winner.

One of them barked out an order. You couldn’t exactly hear what they said, but their actions told enough. Seemingly fed up with your antics, they began pelleting you with what’s left of their bullets.

One grazed your cheek and another clipped your arm. You felt your arm burn. The pain wasn’t noticeable at first, but then it started to fucking hurt. You used your hand to cover the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It was useless. Blood kept gushing out, staining your new shirt in a deep crimson.

The exit was right in front of your eyes. You shouldered through the two agents standing by the door, accidentally tripping one over in the process. Small droplets of blood trailed behind you.

The fresh air of Inazuma hits your face. It felt refreshingly cold— calming the burning pain in your arms for just the tiniest moment. You weren’t given enough time to relish it before the few remaining guys also came through, guns aimed.

You yelped and quickly ran behind a random building, only to encounter a poor straggler who seemed just as surprise to see you as you are to see him. No chances were taken though. With one fell swoop, you had knocked him unconscious.

You can’t rest, not yet. The pattering of their boots were heavy against the pavement as each spilt into smaller parties to search for you. Time was ticking.

Very slowly, you removed your hand from your wound. The bleeding had slowed, but blood was still dribbling out. You’d searched the unconscious person for any sort of first aid. As luck would have it, you found a small kit. In it was a small roll of gauze, a couple of alcohol prep pads, and bandages of all kinds.

You ripped opened the alcohol pads and took in a deep breath. It took every ounce of energy to suppress a scream building up. Your arms trembled.

“Now you see why you have to fight?” he was angry, yet not angry enough to leave you unattended.

“Yeah.. sorry,” you mumbled. You yelped when Scaramouche dabbed at your wounds. “Ah— Scara! A warning please.”

“Sorry.”

“You are not sorry, I can see you laughing— ouch!”

The roll of gauze may be short, but it was enough to temporarily patch your wound. You sealed it off with a Sailor Moon bandage. The bullet dug into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the pain right now.

Not in this dire situation. Footsteps were slowly approaching, each step slow. You frantically took out your phone.

“And what,” your blood ran cold. “Do you think you’re doing?”

You froze, phone slipping away. The cool muzzle of a small pistol was pressed up against your temple.

“Put the phone down.”

You did as told.

“Both hands up.”

You raised one arm.

“I said both.”

“I can’t,” you rebutted. “Your people shot my arm and now I can’t move it without screaming in pain.”

You heard her scoff. “Fucking idiots. Couldn’t even follow a simple order. And you. You are really weak, do you know? Can’t even handle a little bit of pain?”

Your free hand slowly edged towards the pistol lying by the unconscious fellow. “Well miss, have you ever been shot before?” you replied through gritted teeth.

She grinned. “Plenty.”

“Does it hurt?”

“You’re stalling for time,” she said. A flying mirror next to her glittered. It suddenly flashed red. “Get up.”

“So it doesn’t hurt? Then I suppose another one shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

You smiled and pointed the gun at her. Two shots was all it took for her body to go limp. The mirror fell to the side, cracked.

“The Maiden— she collapsed!”

“She’s been shot! Get the medic here!”

“Is she dead?!”

She wasn’t dead, you hadn’t shoot to kill. You had only fatally wounded her, rendering her temporarily useless.

The unconscious fellow stirred. They weren’t fully awake yet, but just for good measures, you dropped a semi-empty crate on their head. They knocked out once again.

You grabbed the Maiden’s broken mirror and ran. Perhaps Heizou can analyze it for you.

More enemies emerged from the shadows of the alleyways. Bullet shells tinkled against the pavement. Standing out in the open was far too risky.

An huge explosion rocked the ground. You stumbled and looked up, the image of fire and smoke mixed together reflecting in your eyes. Horror dawned on you when your realized they had just bombed the police station.

Another explosion was heard, this time seemingly closer to you. With no other choices left, you began running towards your abode. That was the only place you could find temporary sanctuary in.

A wail of a baby filled up the silence of the streets, followed by hushed chatter from citizens who had opened their window to look at the commotions. You heard the patters of footsteps closing in behind you.

“Just run, don’t stop,” you whispered to yourself.

“The next time they approach you, just run to me. Or punch them,” he said. “Either way works.”

“I don’t want to hurt them…”

“Simple, I’ll beat them up for you.”

Ducking through closed shops and weaving around in narrow alleyways, it wasn’t long before you reached home, completely out of breath. You grew up running around the streets of East Side Inazuma, so every twists and turns you’re familiar with. They were definitely strangers to this land, no doubt were you given a head start.

Pushing your keys in through the lock hole, you pushed opened the door just as quickly as you shut it. After making sure that every window, every door, was locked, you climbed upstairs to your bedroom.

Grabbing your first aid, you tore open your hastily made bandages. It was the same grueling process all over again—the stinging and burning of it. You checked the severity of your wound in the mirror.

Oh shit…

You could clearly see the silver glow of the bullet firmly wedged into the tissue of your skin. There was no way to get it out unless you seek professional help or you self-operate.

You could only carefully patch up your wound and hoped for the best. Tossing your jacket to the side, you changed into a more comfy wear, something suitable for both running and fighting. You were just tying your shoelaces when the door to your bedroom flew off its hinges.

It nearly crashed upon you. Standing by the doorframe was a small group consisting of maybe 7 people. More people than you liked in your house. The one standing in front— the ringleader, spoke up. Her purple lantern cackled with electrical energy.

“Now, either we can do this peacefully or we can do this the hard way,” she said, holding up two fingers. “You choose.”

“How about we do this outside and not in my room?”

She laughed. “And risk letting you get away again? Sorry love, you don’t make the choice here. If I were you, I’d surrender peacefully.” She smiled, revealing a neat row of sharp teeth.

“I’d rather not,” you said. “All of you started chasing and shooting me without even giving a reason as to why. There is no way in hell would I follow you.”

She sighed and shook her head, green hair swaying. “Then I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“No it can’t be.”

“You’ve made a bad choice,” she smiled again and disappeared in a flash of purple thunder. Small purple bats radiating a purple aura screeched.

And then they charged.

There was only so many that can fit in the room and they had all stupidly gotten themselves stuck in the doorframe, trying to fit through.

One managed to squeeze through, heading for you. In her hand held syringe containing some sort of green liquid sloshing around. You were prepared for this. When she came close enough, you grabbed her arm— the one with the syringe, and easily slammed her to the floor.

You smiled, proud of yourself. You didn’t spend years leaning how to fight for it to go to waste.

Another one came at you, and you ducked him. He crashed over to your desk, scattering everything onto the floor. You took this chance to ram into him, promptly using his body to smash your window.

You picked up the syringe from the hands of the unconscious person and began swinging it around. The tip eventually found its way to someones neck and they collapsed, body convulsing.

The temperature of your room suddenly dropped. The crowd of people parted, allowing a large man dressed in icy blue to step in. Your collection of keychains jingled with each step he took. He held out a large machine of some sort and pointed the nozzle at you.

What the fuck.

The machine whirred loudly, and you slowly backed towards the broken window. Eerie white mist pooled out from it. You felt goosebumps running down your arms.

It doesn’t take an idiot to know that you’ll probably die if you don’t get away in time.

You threw your chair at him to stall for time. Then you carefully crawled out the window as best as you can without cutting yourself open. Jagged shards scraped against your pants.

The jump down from the second floor to ground level wasn’t too high, you noted. Maybe you can make it down there without breaking a leg or two.

You shimmied over to the edge and took a deep breath. The people behind you crawled towards you. It reminded you of that time when centipedes began crawling out in massive groups from a ventilator and scaring the ever living shit out of you. You shivered at that memory, cold sweat clinging onto you.

You jumped.

Something crunched, you heard it. You check yourself for any injuries, but there was none.

Then what?…

You turned back around and nearly screamed. It was the body of the unfortunate enemy that had slipped and fell, their back bent at an awkward angle. A badge of some sort clattered against the pavement, rolling to a stop by your shoe. You picked it up and scampered away.

The badge— or pin, was exquisitely designed. Yet the more you examine it, the more you felt like you’ve seen this before.

Isn’t this…

An arm wrapped around your waist, the other suppressing your terrified screams. You angrily thrashed around, eyes wide in horror. The badge fell.

You raised one arm back and elbowed them as hard as you can. Adrenaline rush through your body once again as the grip around you loosened.

He stumbled back. One hand clutched at his nose. You could see blood gushing out from it.

With his free hand, he whipped out a butterfly knife. He looked like an maniac, smiling with blood dripping down his chin.

The group of enemies caught up. He held a hand out, and they all came to a stop.

“I’ll handle this,” his voice was gruff. You eyed him. Judging by his attire, he must be one of the higher ranking ones. The badges and small medals says it all.

The moon was at its fullest tonight, stars gleaming in the clear skies. It would’ve been the perfect night to go stargazing. The sight was almost beautiful if you weren’t literally fighting for your life.

You kept a steady rhythm in your mind, keeping yourself focus on the glint of the weapon.

A slash to the right. You dodged to the left. He barreled towards you. You dropped to the ground and swung your legs out. He fell, but was up not even seconds later. It’s the same all over again, block, parry, hit, get hit.

Dimly lit lanterns swung from the chilly breeze. It’s soft golden glow basked the streets in a warm blanket. His attacks were speeding up. Your body was worn out from the entire night of fighting and running. You don’t know how long you can keep going until you finally collapse from the exhaustion.

He was a blur of colors. You just couldn’t keep up. Not anymore.

The wound in your left arm was raging up in pain once again. You lower your guard for the just slightest moment, trying to catch your breath.

There wasn’t time for you to move, let alone react. You completely blanked out.

By the time you’ve snapped back, he was right in front of you— his blade piercing through your lower abdomen.

You couldn’t breath.

Everything began to blur together into blocks of colors. You could feel the warm blood slowly tricking down your stomach. Blood began pouring out when he removed the weapon. You stumbled.

“Give me the sedative.”

His voice sounded so faraway. “Fuckyou…” your words were slurred together. “No...”

“Tell the lord we’ve got her.”

Your eyes were half-lidded, movements sluggish. The engine of a van could be heard pulling up next to you. A blurry face appeared in your vision.

“Sleep well… never… have… back.”

His voice was fading away. You fought the the drowsiness overtaking you, but alas, the sedative was just too strong. The shattered mirror in your pocket fell with a quiet clink.

The last thing you could remember was excited mumbling of the onlookers, the feeling of your body being poked and prodded at, and the giant title plastered on the van that read, “NORTHLAND BANK.”

It was then you finally realized who was after you. The familiar print on the badges… you could only pray that Heizou— or someone, would be able to see what’s wrong.

It’s the Fatui, you bitterly thought to yourself. Of course it was the Fatui.

It was all you could remember before sleep consumed your consciousness, pulling you into the depths of nothingness.

…

“A blade; light as a feather, delicate as a bird,” he softly hummed to himself. “That blade; weighted and broken... wouldn’t you agree, my dear friend?”

The small creature curled up in his shoulder nuzzled its head against his chin. His fingers danced along the hilt of his katana.

“The moon is gorgeous tonight,” he murmured. “Let’s go report our findings to him, shall we?”

previous || series m.list || next

synopsis— [✩]

— you, the hero, disappears overnight, and the only person who looks is the villain. Not your friends, not your family, not the news reporter or any of the people who claimed to love you. Just him, Scaramouche, the very same person who claimed to hate you.

notes— [✩]

— as you can clearly tell by this chapter, I am not good at writing fight scenes 🙏 (ANYONE WANT TO TAKE A GUESS AS TO WHO IT WAS AT THE END)

taglist— [✩`·CLOSED]

@akairaindrops @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @elernity @shayewrites @angel-suicides @magica-ren @kyouzki @nana-bri @avxntxrine @bleedingwhiteroses222 @rainingduringsummer @darthvada @dan9a-00 @omgblade-starrail @kichiyoshi @inufinuf @vvyeislazzy @alatusorrow @franaby @mellowberrie @sketcheeee @etherisy @crmnic @arizzu @vrisso @id3ru @mochicurls21 @kairuthewriter @suqarlaced @saetorii @anura100000 @divinechicha @starlightaura @karablueyt @supercoolusernameomg @uhh-traashyy @kazuuhhaaaa

[italicized usernames means I cannot tag you]

#[💫] acaaai-t #resurface my love #genshin #genshin impact #genshin series #genshin x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin scaramouche #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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zqmbiescorpse · 1 year

Text

GLADIATOR, PART 3

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: i feel like they part is really wordy lololololol, also everytime i try to proof read i get very bored, so i will do it eventually (probably)

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: making out, kissing, some angst

word count: 3.5k

(part 4) (masterlist)

The tribute parade was definitely something. Experiencing it for the first time, three years ago, it hadn't seemed so bad at the time - possibly due to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that kept you from processing any other emotion. However, going through it again made you realise how ridiculous the whole thing was. You hated everything about it. Sure that it was a humiliation tactic provided by the Capitol for entertainment, you had observed each of the various tribute outfits and were unable to detect anything that looked decent. Aside from the dazzling black material, which caught aflame, worn by Katniss and Peeta, everybody looked as stupid as they felt. How were your stylists allowed to do that to you?

In all honesty, it was a major struggle to keep a straight face, at that point you were just completely over it and couldn't take it seriously, eventually accepting the fact that you were dressed disgustingly. During the parade you found yourself distracted, fortunately, concerned with one thing. Johanna. Especially after the previous night, she remained prominent in your mind throughout the entire day and you were quite desperate to see her again.

You'd caught a few glimpses of her, each time you did you fought with yourself to stifle a laugh, although, to her credit, she managed to pull off the outfit in an odd way. Maybe it was because you found her extremely attractive, but even dressed as a tree, Johanna looked exceptional.

You were waiting in the lobby of the apartments with your stylist, mentor, and the male victor of your district, Gus. He was about 20 years older than you, the greys scattered in his hair growing more obvious with each day. The two of you weren't close and you hadn't discussed alliances with one another, assuming that in the arena you would be going your separate ways, which you were fine with, you didn't mind Gus at all, he was a nice guy.

"Ah! You both did so well today! Y/N, Gus, you looked amazing!" Your stylist, whose name you hadn't bothered to retain, announced delightedly, clearly very pleased with her work. She clasped her hands together and smiled widely before suggesting all of you return to the District 5 apartments for a meal, to celebrate.

Politely, you declined. You feigned exhaustion, excusing yourself and going on ahead with the intention of hiding away by yourself for a few hours. You said you were tired because of the hard work you'd done today, playing it up massively, yet, your mentor bought it and let you go.

You approached an elevator at the far end of the corridor, failing to see the victors from District 12 and their mentor enter it. About to step in, you finally noticed that you wouldn't be alone, becoming hesitant at the presence of Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch caught your eye with a look of reassurance, he was encouraging you to join them.

"Y/N Armstrong, District 5." While the idea of leaving them be and getting on the next elevator sounded a lot more appealing to you, Haymitch didn't give you the opportunity to decide for yourself, loudly declaring your arrival before you had the chance to back away.

"There's my favourite warrior," he joked as you nervously made your way, standing by his side to create some distance between yourself and the other victors.

"Hello, Haymitch," you spoke with an easily detectable awkwardness, causing your cheeks to heat up slightly at how strange you thought you'd sounded.

Similarly to most winners of the Hunger Games, you'd been given a nickname relevant to your triumph, branded by the Capitol for all of eternity. To them, you were known as the warrior, or, more commonly, the gladiator. Someone who was a ferocious fighter and absolutely brutal during a battle of life and death. Unfortunately, it was an accurate description considering the circumstances of your victory, but you found it funny how gladiators were usually slaves, trained and forced to fight, and weren't predicted to live long lives. The latter half you found you related to more.

Normally, hearing people call you that made you uneasy, cringing each time you were addressed as such, yet, when Haymitch called you that you knew it was him poking fun at the Capitol - mocking them, not you so you didn't mind it at all. Besides, you were close enough that you found some humour in his methods too.

Not much more was said, the atmosphere was uncomfortable and it didn't help that you could feel both Katniss' and Peeta's eyes constantly on you, both of them staring at your injuries.

"I'm not a fan of prosthetics," you blurted, brushing off any insecurity you had, faking confidence while you smiled at them. You sensed the comment had broken some of the suspense, since the elephant in the room had been acknowledged. Sometimes you walked around without even an eyepatch covering your socket, shortly after the tribute parade you removed the one given to you, discarding it. Consequently, you were feeling quite exposed standing there with people, who were pretty much strangers, the old wound on display for them to see.

"If I didn't need it to walk, I wouldn't either," Peeta spoke up, a welcoming warmth to his voice. You appreciated his response, the both of you were able to relate to each other, him wearing a prosthetic leg due to an infection that made him need to amputate. At least you could say that you and Peeta were somewhat friendly. You knew that Haymitch was probably pleased, happy that you were taking the plan of rebellion seriously by attempting to connect with the District 12 tributes.

"Why don't you wear them? If anything, you're just putting yourself at a huge disadvantage." That was the first time Katniss had ever said a word to you, her tone harsh, communicating suspicion and uncertainty perfectly. For some reason, you were getting the feeling that she wasn't very fond of you. Then again, untrusting and closed off was a large part of who Katniss was, understandably, so you didn't take it to heart.

"I like how it makes them uncomfortable." You were totally honest, having your injuries on show often satisfied you in a weird way, refusing to let the Capitol disguise what they did to you.

You could tell Katniss was a fan of your response, something in her face changing, it relaxed a little as suspicion morphed into respect. Imprinting a positive impression, the air felt a lot clearer than before and you felt you could breathe better, any anxieties about the situation disappearing.

Little conversation continued but you still felt that you'd managed to make a good amount of progress today regarding alliances. Then, the elevator doors slid open, allowing Johanna to saunter through them, that frustratedly amused expression, which she commonly wore, present. She briefly acknowledged you, enough to make the blood start rushing. You could tell that she was up to something, intrigued and glad to see her, you watched on intently.

"My stylist is such an idiot. District 7, lumber…trees. Ugh, I'd love to put my axe in her face." She rambled on, anger seeping through her words while she let her crimson hair flow free and removed any extravagant jewellery inconveniencing her.

The image of Johanna axing someone in the face. No matter how hard you tried to not be attracted to the idea of her doing that, you couldn't stop thinking about it. You too hated your stylist for what she made you wear, consequently seeing no issue with what the fired-up redhead was saying. God, just the thought of it made you feel…something.

Seemingly lost, drifting away in the daydream, you'd missed the part where Johanna got undressed and was now completely naked in front of the four of you, flashing everyone standing in the elevator. You'd heard that earlier on in the day, Finnick had approached Katniss in the same playful manner, more subtly since he didn't strip off. It was a way of lightly intimidating her, observing how she would react in an uncomfortable situation; having some fun at her expense yet seeing whether the person they were risking their lives to protect was worth it.

Haymitch and Peeta were clearly enjoying themselves, shamelessly taking in everything Johanna had to offer. On the other hand, you struggled to not stare at her stunning body, her bare chest perfectly in line with your sight if you were to look ahead like a normal person. Your eyes fixated on every spot around your area that wasn't the person in front of you, you were a flustered mess, blushing all over, now feeling rather warm.

Although what she was doing was not aimed towards you, Johanna took notice of every reaction you were having, relishing in how nervous she made you feel, every smidge of red splattered on your cheeks was because of her, and she was proud.

You could almost smell the disgust radiating from Katniss, unimpressed by Johanna's stunt, she tried seeking support from you as together you'd discovered a newfound respect for one another. She expected you to be equally repulsed, only to find that you were trying so desperately to not pass out because of Johanna. Katniss bit her tongue, rolled her eyes and came to the conclusion that you were into Johanna, though, at least you were being more respectful about it. Haymitch and Peeta gawked while you had the decency to look away, even if it was because you felt awfully tense and awkward due to the attraction and feelings you had for her.

With the rise of a perfect brow, the fierce woman gave one last glance at everyone, winking at Haymitch, the pair exchanging knowing looks. Sensing her departure, you quietly let out a sigh of relief, having been holding your breath, allowing your heart rate to regulate. Regaining confidence, your vision altered itself from a top corner of the elevator to what you expected to be an empty space ahead of you. To your surprise, Johanna remained unmoving, her dangerously mischievous eyes already on yours.

You had no chance to inquire, her hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, her grip firm, practically dragging you away with her - a delighted cheek plastered to her face.

"Thanks! Let's do it again sometime!" marvelled the domineering woman, her voice getting lost to Peeta and Katniss while she made her way into the hallway, a very confused, uneasy you trailing behind, sort of against your will?

"I was supposed to get off ages ago, this isn't my floor," the sudden realisation hitting you, displaying stupidity since this was unmistakably not your floor.

"No, it's my floor, and you got off at the right time, with me. We're going to my apartment," Johanna informed you, leaving no room for protest.

At that moment, she spun around to face you after leading on in front, finally releasing the hold she had on your reddening wrist. However, she made sure to run her thumb gently over the mark, sparking jolts of an electric sensation down your left arm, then she dropped your hand.

"Why?" Your voice was laced with bewilderment. There was an additional something you were meaning to vocalise, but any recollection of what it was disappeared once you were faced with the naked woman again.

"Johanna, I can't believe you're wandering around without any clothes, shouldn't you, yknow, put something on?" Fumbling your words here and there, a cloud of scarlet dust crept its way back up your neck.

"Well why do you think we're heading back to my room?" She mocked, inching closer to you, whispering, “What is it, baby? Do you not like my body?”

You froze, slightly wide-eyed, a feeling of dread at the lack of ability to think of something to say. Johanna just laughed.

“Okay…whatever, let’s hurry up then. I mean, what if someone sees you?” You finally responded, purposefully ignoring some parts of what she’d said, apparently more embarrassed than she was.

“You’ve already seen my plenty,” She smirked, her pointer finger jabbing into your shoulder, “So has Katniss, so has Haymitch, so has Peeta. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been seen in worse states anyway, crying, shaking, covered in the blood of others, right? And the whole of Panem saw that.” The seductive expression never left her face while she was talking, a huge contrast to the words coming out of her mouth, the sinister undertones lacing them.

Johanna witnessed a change in you. She was enjoying the teasing and seeing you tense up every time she took a step closer to you, until getting any closer wouldn't leave room to breathe. Although it was doubtful that she would ever confess it, she disliked seeing you sad, and you were looking pretty dejected after she reminded you of the world you were living in, having been immersed in whatever was occurring between you both.

Eventually, you had gotten back to her apartment and Johanna wasted no time getting dressed into a more casual attire, disappearing into her closet. Her room appeared identical to yours: same rectangular shape, same double bed with the same luxuriously styled sheets, same window, and even the same bedside table.

"Is everything alright, Johanna?" You asked, growing ever more curious as to why she brought you all the way here.

"Mhm, yeah, why'd you ask?" She called back, still out of sight.

"Because…is there a reason why you wanted me here?" You could only imagine how timid you sounded, glad that she couldn't see you fidgeting about.

"Was you expecting something? I bet you thought you were gonna get lucky," Johanna almost howled, reappearing suddenly.

"What? No… we're friends… I don't know, maybe I thought you needed something…" Your voice trailed off, each word getting harder and harder to hear, almost a fearful whisper as you awkwardly laughed your way through your speech.

The unique effect Johanna caused whenever she was around you was extraordinary - a tense thrill that you could never want to dispose of. It was humiliating how you seemed to melt into a goopy, uncoordinated puddle on the floor each time she gave you the time of day. Considering the less-than-ideal world you lived in, not many things brought joy to your life, hence your strong attachment to the short-tempered tribute from District 7, thus, it would be a total lie to pretend that you weren't expecting anything to happen.

Seeing her on the opposite side of the space, you were caught in her cheery gaze, provoking a smile to form on your lips. This seemed to satisfy her ever-growing playful mood.

"Well maybe I do need something, baby…" Johanna suggested, a nonchalant grin gracing her alluring features.

It was aggravatingly slow. She wasn't even that far from you. Yet, Johanna took her sweet, sweet time moseying over, each step she took closing the gap keeping you apart.

"Whatever it is, I can try my best to help. I'm always here for you and stuff…" You claimed, the nerves rapidly ramping up. Fully aware that advice and a conversation weren't what the enticing woman before you desired.

An approving hum tickled your ears, Johanna was now so near to you that you could feel her warm breath on your lips, mere centimetres apart from hers. You were desperate to close the gap but couldn't bring yourself to do it, something was stopping you from finally putting an end to all the agonising tension. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn't possibly fathom the idea of someone as beautiful as Johanna expressing a romantic interest in you. Maybe her bringing you back to her room, backing you into a corner, was just another teasing gesture that in a few moments would be over and everything would die down the moment things started to feel serious between you and her.

"What is it, pretty girl? What are you thinking?" Johanna almost whispered against your lips, a whole new wave of red coating your cheeks.

Lacking a response, the beautiful woman took it upon herself to cup your face in her soft hand, feeling the heat radiating off your skin, while she gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. You observed an odd mix of emotions, her eyes suggesting seduction, lust, desperation, longing, yet, there was also uncertainty and fear.

"Johanna…please…"

As much as she was giving in to your pleas, Johanna was giving into herself, she'd been craving your affections and couldn't hold herself back any longer, though there was an isolated nervousness to her that was hidden excellently, you didn't notice a thing, too excited and wide-eyed her lips meeting yours.

It was barely a brush, a soft press, sudden feelings of hesitancy present again and the kiss did not last long. You felt quite satisfied, having managed to feel her lips against yours, even though it was short - yearning for more. Sparks ignited your entire bodies because of the tender moment, spurring Johanna on.

Her mouth soon connected back to yours, crashing into it hungrily, her tongue swiping across your lips, which you parted, accidentally whimpering into her mouth. This kiss continued to deepen, becoming bruising, you couldn't help but feel like she was being a little rough, not that you minded, triggering a similar amount of passion from you.

The past three years have brought a strange relationship into your life through the likes of Johanna, it had been very gradual, for starters, not seeing her as much as you had wanted caused your friendship to build at an excruciatingly slow pace, the romantic feelings that came later were danced around for far too long - tensions constantly high, the desire for one another ever-growing

Her hands roamed your body, fingers trailing around your hips, she grasped at your clothes and guided you backward pushing you flush up against the wall in her apartment. Clearly the more dominant out of the two of you, Johanna seemed to be in control, leading the kisses and the occasional touches over each other's aroused bodies.

Breaths were few and far between, more concerned with keeping the movement of your lips entwined; like your mouths were glued together, impossible to part, the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling became their least significant thing. But you did part, eventually, not wanting to lose the closeness, your hands remained tangled in her dark hair and Johanna left a series of pecks around your lips, regaining air every other second.

The erratic atmosphere came to a halt, presenting an opportunity to calm down. Faint pants could be heard, but that was all. A grin stretched across your face, wide and hopeful, never breaking eye contact with a content Johanna. She wasn't smug, amused, or teasing, appearing genuinely pleased. It was a moment you could bask in for hours, a golden glow basking you both, in her arms, playing with her luscious locks, reshaping the spikes that added so much to her personality without fail.

And then, she pulled away.

Immediately, you could sense something was wrong. The previously loved-filled eyes looking down at you in a memorised trance turned sinister, the happiness washing away and being swiftly replaced by…regret?

You could feel a shake against your waist, her smooth palms let go and she retreated back into herself. A distance had been put between you, physically and emotionally.

"Johanna, what is it? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" Whereas the words would usually come tumbling out of your mouth due to nervousness caused by a silly, awkward crush, here, you were stumbling and stammering because you could see the cogs turning in Johanna's mind - caught up in her own dreadful thoughts, a painful expression flashing her features.

She didn't respond. Growing worried by the second, you tried to move nearer, consequently, Johanna became infuriated, the intense anger she would aim towards everyone in the Capitol, a side of her you hadn't witnessed directly.

"You need to leave, go, I don't want you here!" She yelled, repeating it until her throat went sore and her eyes started to water from frustration.

Initially, you stood there, perfectly still. To understand would take a while. It was obvious how scared she was and that frightened you, you struggled to comprehend the abrupt change occurring so drastically, your world crashing down around you. The sweet bliss and sheer joy you had felt were rare, the last time you had felt so happy was hard to recall, however, your naive heart was being crushed by the one who had made it beat so freely.

Your stomach turned, nausea corrupting your senses, the shouts for you to leave never ending, and getting through to Johanna was impossible. Tears flowing, streaming down your cheeks, you made haste, slamming the door as you left - consumed by sorrow and bewilderment.

That night, you didn't get much sleep.

#johanna mason x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #finnick odair #katniss everdeen #lqbtqa #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #catching fire

357 notes · View notes

slafkovskys · 2 months

Text

tarnished ❈ a golden au blurb

summary: in which not all that glitters is gold

word count: < 1k

warnings: angst, brief language

maybe it would have hurt less if he had said goodbye.

that first summer together was supposed to be them. just them. without the pressures of school or hiding from scottie’s superiors or only being able to share kisses in dark corners of bars or the safety of their apartment. their two weeks in atlanta went by fast with one week in the city and another at her grandparents’ ranch, it was only a matter of time before the boys’ teams came calling for development camp.

ryan went first.

she kept up with everything the caps would post to their socials, feeding it through to the gopher’s various media outlets along with the other boys who were at development camps that week as well. she packs a bag and flies up to minnesota the day before he comes home and the day that jimmy’s due to report to st. louis. she hugs her parents goodbye and leaves them with the excuse of an event she was required to attend.

she spends a few hours with him at the apartment before shuttling him off to the airport, giving him the biggest hug and a kiss to his lips. she’s not really thinking about how he holds on a little bit longer or how he looks like he’s fighting a battle in his own head as he turns to check his bags. she gets back into ryan’s car thinking she’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the aforementioned man and she’ll be back for jimmy in a week.

it would have hurt less if they hadn’t found out through social media.

ryan and scottie were both practically itching to have jimmy back the next day. it had been practically radio silence from him the past week, which neither could hold against him because they both knew that this was big for him.

a summer storm was sweeping through minnesota and the two were squished in the hammock on their balcony when ryan’s phone lit up. scottie watches as the screen illuminated his face before his eyebrows furrowed, “what the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” scottie turns her body to stare at ryan, watching as his face morphs through a variety of emotions, “ryan, what’s going on?”

“don’t-” and scottie wishes she had listened as she snatches his phone from his hand. her eyes scan over the same page that he was looking, the one that caused him to go through a handful of emotions within a matter of seconds.

what scottie sees on his phone screen makes her stomach churn. staring right back at her is jimmy’s smiling face flanked by either of his parents. in front of him is a stack of papers and she doesn’t miss the pen in his hand. her eyes trail up to read the caption,

jimmy snuggerud has agreed to terms on a three-year, entry-level contract. #stlblues

“did you know?” scottie’s voice shakes as she can’t tear her eyes away from the screen, “please don’t lie to me. is this some sick joke that you two are playing on me? did he say that he was staying just to go and do this?”

lightning flashes above their heads and thunder rolls through the sky as ryan quickly shakes his head, “scottie, baby, i’m finding this out right now, just like you are.”

“he-” she cuts herself off when a video pops up at the top of the feed. jimmy’s still smiling face takes up ryan’s phone screen once again, only this time he’s smiling at an unfamiliar woman who’s holding a microphone to his lips.

“so, jimmy,” her accented voice breaks through the night, “you originally said that you were going to be staying at minnesota for another year, but here you just signed your elc. what changed your mind?”

“yeah, um,” he scratches the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous, “just the atmosphere this past week, getting to explore the city some, having some talks with the guys, my family-” scottie can’t ignore the sting at those words, “i figured now was the best time. minnesota was great for me, but i feel like i’ve done what i can. nothing holding me there.”

she can’t stop the sob from escaping her lips and ryan rips his phone from her hands, quickly turning it off and gathering the girl in his arms, “he doesn’t mean that-”

“why would he say that then?” she questions, “did i mean nothing to him? did we mean nothing to him?”

ryan stays quiet because he can’t give her an honest answer. he feels as though he was just hit by a train, left exposed and still responsible for cleaning up the aftermath of someone else’s mess. he slips his hand underneath scottie’s shirt and rubs at her spine, trying to let him know that while he can’t explain what was happening, he was still here.

“scottie, it’s going to be okay. we’re going to be okay,” he tries, “we don’t need him-”

“everything is not okay, ryan!” she shouts through tears, “i need him because-”

it would have hurt less if-

“because i’m pregnant, ryan.”

#the golden au #jimmy snuggerud #ryan chesley

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andreas-river · 1 year

Note

Hey hey hey I thought this would be a sweet idea,

Could you be able to write a headcanon where laswell has given the guys a couple weeks break to go home, but ghost has nowhere to go so GN reader his best friend invites him to stay with them and they just have a blast together

Simon "Ghost" Riley X GN!Reader

A/N: Hey hey @itsscromp ! Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, I had some shitty days, but then I was finally able to make your request, I hope you will like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any MW characters. English is not my first language.

Warnings: Soap and Gaz being happy and drunk, fluff, Ghost and reader being best friends.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Two weeks. Away from the field, from the smell of gunpowder, from everything Ghost had called life for years, in his own way. Laswell's announcement came out of nowhere, everything rising up inside him: he was alone, his own apartment wasn't only a mess, but was full of bad memories, like his panic attacks or when he'd punched a hole in the wall with the shape of his own fist;

In a few days everyone would leave, and like you, pack all your things in a bag: but Ghost seemed much too free, he walked around or just sat there, he was in his own dimension, understanding that he had no place to go, or maybe he didn't want to: your doubts were confirmed when you went to his room, Ghost already outside chatting with Soap, your gaze fell on the room behind him: it seemed indeed all too neat;

Soap was leaving, and you already had a perfect plan;

"Hey Ghost, ready to go?" you ask with a grin on your face and ready to strike. He blinked a few times and mumbled something. "Actually..."

"That's perfect! I'll see you at nine, don't be late!", leaving him alone and completely amazed;

You weren't sure if Ghost would come along, so you were a bit surprised to see him coming towards you with his own bag, dressed in civilian clothes, but his balaclava was omnipresent. He seemed annoyed, but the tone of his voice gave him away, "You didn't tell me where we were going.";

The ride from the base to your house took only a few hours, most of it spent asleep by Ghost, who followed you the entire time: When the cab stopped in front of your house, you watched as he looked all around, even following you into the house; it was almost morning, neither of you were tired, and Ghost didn't seem to know the word anymore;

And so the first days passed, between a few words and a confused Simon within the walls of your house. You waited for him, and it didn't take long for Simon to finally feel comfortable; he's your best friend, and so is he, and his walls didn't seem so impenetrable anymore;

So you discovered one of his habits: It was still dark, and you woke up when the front door opened; After you gave Ghost the first heart attack of his life -he almost threw you over the nearest wall- you discovered that he went jogging every morning, but always returned before sunrise, which you never noticed -until now;

So the days began for you, too, while Ghost endured all your stories during the runs; he talked a little later, happy that he was finally comfortable in a place so different from the one he was used to;

Later you organized a little surprise with the others: for him Price, Soap, Gaz were his family, another, but the best. In a pub not too far from your house, you both meet the others, Ghost is really surprised. You both had the opportunity to see Soap drunk for the first time: He was flirting with everyone, even Price - nothing unusual, but he was laughing all the time; Gaz was even worse, he started asking some girls to dance. You and Ghost were the only ones who sat quietly with Price and talked to him about various topics;

In the end, you took them all back to your place. Both Soap and Gaz were unable to even stand on their feet without help. That night, everyone slept in the living room: Soap and Gaz on the same couch, Price in the armchair, you and Ghost on the other couch, and everyone covered with a makeshift blanket;

The last few days have been rather quiet, but when you see Ghost coming without his usual balaclava, you pretend to be preoccupied, although some details of his face are already etched in your memory.

You hear him sitting right in front of you, you panic, not knowing what to do or say. "I'll wash it." When you look up, you see Simon with an annoyed expression on his face, but somehow... amused?

"If you want, I've got some..." you try to say, but he interrupts you. "I don't need them. Not now."

You stare at him, his always hidden features now quite open before you, more relaxed than you had expected.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow. His expressive face makes you laugh, eliciting a grin.

Even if it was only two weeks, inviting Ghost to your home was the best decision you ever made.

#request #request open #call of duty #cod #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #cod mw #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty

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queen-paladin · 3 months

Text

March 2024 Reading Wrap Up!

Hiya guys, since I have been on a book reading craze lately (I want to read 30 books before I turn 30 and am now on 13 in March, which says something). I enjoy Goodreads, but little to no people read my reviews. My most popular one on Goodreads has *drumroll* six likes *confetti*. And I have a lot of feelings and thoughts and nowhere to express them...so why not here!

That being said...Books I have read in March of 2024! Better late then never!

What I read and my own personal, take it with a grain of salt thoughts on them below:

Caraval by Stephanie Garber

(YA Fantasy)

Summary:

Scarlett Dragna has never left the tiny island where she and her sister, Tella, live with their powerful, and cruel, father. Now Scarlett’s father has arranged a marriage for her, and Scarlett thinks her dreams of seeing Caraval—the faraway, once-a-year performance where the audience participates in the show—are over. But this year, Scarlett’s long-dreamt-of invitation finally arrives. With the help of a mysterious sailor, Tella whisks Scarlett away to the show. Only, as soon as they arrive, Tella is kidnapped by Caraval’s mastermind organizer, Legend. It turns out that this season’s Caraval revolves around Tella, and whoever finds her first is the winner.

I am usually not the type to stay up late reading because I have to know what's going to happen. I usually set the book down and tuck in bedtime.

This book was an exception.

I was on the edge of my seat, forgetting the time and hour, wanting to read just one more page because I had to know what would happen. The pacing was just right, the world was beautiful and dangerous, and I enjoyed the characters. Scarlett was a breath of fresh air in a genre notorious for internal misogyny in it's female protagonists. Timid and Proper and Responsible, but grows on her own and learns to take initiative.

The environment was very reminiscent of the Night Circus, imagine like, if the Night Circus was a town built on illusions, and you have Caraval. But the Night Circus, rereading it as an adult, had an insufferable MMC who has a girlfriend who sacrifices so much for him, then the MMC who cheats on his girlfriend for the FMC, and then when the girlfriend has the truth confirmed to her, she gets upset and briefly lashes out, the writing then frames her as An Evil Woman Scorned for doing so (which is...yikes) Justice for Isobel Martin. She should have done a full Carrie White style Everyone Dies rampage and I would have rooted her on the whole time.

There's none of that crap here! We have a lovely romance between Scarlett and Julian full of all sorts of wonderful, chemistry-building moments.

But what got me was the story- the various twists and turns kept me on the edge of my seat, gasping and clinging. I was captivated. Entranced by it's spell. This is a roller coaster of a book, so just hold on and enjoy the ride. I am so glad I read this book, it gave me a feeling and experience I hadn't had with a book in ages, one where I had to stay up late, because I had to read what would happen next.

5/5

The Unlovely Bride by Alice Coldbreath

(Romance, Historic, Fantasy)

Summary: Lenora Montmayne leads a charmed life as the most beautiful woman at King Wymer’s court, surrounded by admirers. And then disaster strikes. The red pox sweeps the summer palace at Caer-Lyones and Lenora’s fair face falls victim to its ravages. Without her looks, what does Lenora have left to her?

If ever there was a knight the crowd loves to hate, it’s Garman Orde. Even his own family despises him. Then one night a heavily veiled lady offers him an extraordinary bargain. And he finds out that Lenora Montmayne was never just a pretty face.

Review: Any marriage of convenience story I will read, and I will devour it. I've been looking forward to this book for a while, and I do love the premise. And most of all, I love the setting! This lovely world that is part medieval England part not because fuck it, it's not history, just the vibes. And I LOVE our female protagonist. Leonora relied on her looks and nothing else for years to get by, and now that they are gone, she relies on her own person. She loves kitty cats, she believes in prophecies and fortune-telling but is smart, pragmatic, and determined. She and Garman have a nice romance with some great lines and moments (and some nice spice). My complaint is that while the first half is amazing, the second half kind of drags, and not much happens, it could have used more tension, more stakes, and more plot. I may read another Coldbreath book sometime, just because I love the world of Karadok, but I'm not sure.

3.75/5

Medea by Eilish Quin

(Historic, Fantasy)

Summary: The daughter of a sea nymph and the granddaughter of a Titan, Medea is a paradox. She is at once rendered compelling by virtue of the divinity that flows through her bloodline and made powerless by the fact of her being a woman. As a child, she intuitively submerges herself in witchcraft and sorcery, but soon finds it may not be a match for the prophecies that hang over her entire family like a shroud.

As Medea comes into her own as a woman and a witch, she also faces the arrival of the hero Jason, preordained by the gods to be not only her husband, but also her lifeline to escape her isolated existence. Medea travels the treacherous seas with the Argonauts, battles demons she had never conceived of, and falls in love with the man who may ultimately be her downfall.

Review: Ok, ok, I have so many feelings about this. I was...sadly disappointed by this book. Medea is probably my personal favorite of the Ancient Greek Women, if not, my favorite of the spicier, more controversial, morally grey ones (Hera, Circe, Medusa, Clytemnestra, etc)

But, my biggest issue with this book, and it's big, is that I don't believe there is a love story between Medea and Jason. The writer makes him unlikable from the get-go, to where he has numerous Kick The Dog (tm) moments like physically abusing Medea and killing one of Pelleas's daughters when she won't stop crying. Medea herself doesn't justify them, and she keeps thinking of "eh, he's sometimes kind of good-looking, but he's okay."

Like, Medea in this book, after meeting Jason, she flat out tells her brother that he is the man she loves the most in her life (which...YIKES for the implications. But in order for any Medea story to work, I HAVE to believe she is madly, desperately in love with Jason. There's no oath where Jason swears before the gods to stay with her, so then there's no hurt. She kind of has to marry Jason to preserve her honor according to Aunt Circe, but not out of love. Since there's no romantic chemistry, the sacrifices Medea takes make more sense and the betrayal hurts even more so then when she does what she does in Corinth, she is extremely sympathetic at least in the beginning.

Like, she has a moment after Jason revealed he cheated on her and is leaving her for Glauce and she goes "oh, poor Glauce is a victim like me." Which begs the question for this version- why doesn't she just kill Jason himself? She calls Glauce a poor baby victim, she kills Glauce, not Jason. If she loved Jason that much, then she would hate him more, and killing Glauce would make more sense. She wants to watch Jason suffer.

Also, I feel like Eilsha Quinn is a bit afraid of the moral nuances of Medea. She has her "I didn't really MEAN to!" moments and there is one character she kills who she then re-animates (like she re-animates her brother, so oopsie Daisy, she's actually not a kinslayer! And he just...vibes with them as the third wheel lives with them, and helps look after the kids. This makes it less tragic because A) She's not a murderer who risked and left everything for him, she's more "perfect" and not as flawed, and B) when Jason betrays her, she's less alone and has an immediate support system there in her brother). And the kid- killing she does to trick Jason and then she re-animates them later, or tries, to but no, that failed and they're dead dead, whoops. Even if Medea purposely killing the kids was the invention of Euripides, I want to believe Medea is capable of purposely, intentionally doing some violent, controversial things and this seems to be afraid of her spice, her teeth.

The writing is pretty, and I liked the beginning with learning about her childhood, but this was a letdown.

I did order Hewlitt's book of Medea, which is higher ranked on Goodreads so my hope is higher for that one.

3/5

Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross

(YA, Fantasy, Romance)

Summary:

After centuries of sleep, the gods are warring again. But eighteen-year-old Iris Winnow just wants to hold her family together. Her mother is suffering from addiction and her brother is missing from the front lines. Her best bet is to win the columnist promotion at the Oath Gazette.

To combat her worries, Iris writes letters to her brother and slips them beneath her wardrobe door, where they vanish—into the hands of Roman Kitt, her cold and handsome rival at the paper. When he anonymously writes Iris back, the two of them forge a connection that will follow Iris all the way to the front lines of battle: for her brother, the fate of mankind, and love.

Review: This book was utterly beautiful, breathtaking, and heartbreaking all at once and yet uplifting and then it breaks your heart again. The world is simple and lovely. It's a mix of World War One/two aesthetics with a fantasy setting. It's basically You Got Mail but fantasy and more focus on the drama then the comedy.

The romance is lovely, there is such a beautiful love story between Roman and Iris as they sort out their feelings, reveal their secrets, doubts, failures, grief, and insecurities, and learn more about where they fall for each other. Plus, the twists and turns were a lot of fun and the pacing was just right.

I have no faults or complaints, this was just a lovely, lovely book and I look forward to the sequel because THAT was quite a note to end on!

5/5

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

Summary: After her mother dies in an accident, sixteen-year-old Bree Matthews wants nothing to do with her family memories or childhood home. A residential program for bright high schoolers at UNC–Chapel Hill seems like the perfect escape—until Bree witnesses a magical attack her very first night on campus.

A flying demon feeding on human energies.

A secret society of so called “Legendborn” students that hunt the creatures down.

And a mysterious teenage mage who calls himself a “Merlin” and who attempts—and fails—to wipe Bree’s memory of everything she saw.

The mage’s failure unlocks Bree’s own unique magic and a buried memory with a hidden connection: the night her mother died, another Merlin was at the hospital. Now that Bree knows there’s more to her mother’s death than what’s on the police report, she’ll do whatever it takes to find out the truth, even if that means infiltrating the Legendborn as one of their initiates.

She recruits Nick, a self-exiled Legendborn with his own grudge against the group, and their reluctant partnership pulls them deeper into the society’s secrets—and closer to each other. But when the Legendborn reveal themselves as the descendants of King Arthur’s knights and explain that a magical war is coming, Bree has to decide how far she’ll go for the truth and whether she should use her magic to take the society down—or join the fight.

Reveiw: This is such a hyped, beloved, popular book that is so many people's baby and favorite series and it...it was okay.

It wasn't bad.

But I didn't find it phenomenal, amazing, spectacular, life chagning.

It was good. It was okay.

I honestly got extremely tired of trying to learn how the over-complicated Arthurian society worked. It's explained in a super info-dumpy way that the characters get, but I don't. And the pacing was way too slow, I feel like it needed to shave off a good hundred pages, or fifty, perhaps.

I do enjoy the main girl, Bree, alright. She doesn't take bullshit, but has moments of vulnerability. As well as exploring race, grief, family history and the scenes with root magic were amazing. The beginning was fantastically done, it was the middle part where it peterred off for me.

But the rest of it, not gonna lie, was kind of...eh.

And, ngl, I am more Team Nick. Sel is a giant jerk who treats her like garbage, yet people root for them and want them to be together, and I'm like....??????? why? At least Nick, white saviory as he can be, is trying and cares for her and affirms and appreciates her strength.

I respect that this is so many people's favorite book and that it speaks to them and moves them. But for me, if none of these people made any content around this book and said nothing, based off of my opinion independent of others, if you plopped this book on my lap and said nothing about the hype about it...I'd still say it was just okay. That might be my controversial hot take, but it's just what my personal experience was from this book.

3/5

Currently Reading: The Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon by Lemming, The Death of Jane Lawrence by Starling, Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Fairies by Fawcett, and Twisted Love by Ana Huang.

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goldenraeofsun · 2 years

Text

Day 14: All for you

One of these days, Dean is going to break the Good Guy Code and straight-up murder the Angel.

“You can’t kill him,” Sam says wearily as he takes pieces of Dean’s body armor to pack away in its special case.

“Just watch me.”

Sam rolls his eyes, frowning as Dean hands him the chestplate. “Is this a bullet hole?”

“It’s a dent from a bullet.”

“You said it didn’t get you!”

“I said I wasn’t hurt, which is true.” Dean sits on the couch in Sam’s home office to wrestle off his combat boots. He straightens up just to get hit with bitchface #5.

“Vigilantism has no room for semantics,” Sam says, also very bitchily.

Dean grimaces. “Are we done here?”

Sam waves him off, and Dean stalks up to his room.

The old Winchester mansion shows its age in the creaky stairs, dusty corners, and windows permanently fogged over with grime.

To the rest of the world, the Winchester heirs gave up their fortune to various charities (not that their millions-bordering-on-a-billion did enough). Sam, the youngest, went to medical school to become a stand up member of society. The oldest, though, he squandered the rest they had left on extravagant vacations and lavish parties.

Dean flops down on his bed with a groan. Only three years as a vigilante, and he feels thirty years older. Sammy’s going to have to replace both his knees soon. And maybe a hip.

Maybe Sammy should just take all his bones out at this point and replace them with titanium. Dean would finally be able to keep up with the Angel, at least.

He rolls over, staring up at the mahogany ceiling of his bedroom.

The Angel blew into Lawrence a year ago, packed full of super strength and badass feathered wings, making cryptic remarks about divine plans for humanity and shit. Within a month, he got a fanclub/religious cult to follow him around and give the guy a complex the size of Niagara Falls.

Dean simply added him to his villain-of-the-week list – until the Angel blinded fifteen fishermen in the harbor. He said it was the work of “demons”, but all Dean knew was that the crew went out to sea with all their eyeballs intact and came back with 20/infinity vision.

Six months ago, the psycho escalated to setting an entire neighborhood on fire to kill an apparent “witch”.

Dean stopped him in time, but it was a close fucking call.

This year, though, the Angel abruptly changed his tune. Dean used to catch him kidnapping random civilians and the occasional assault. Now, he’s far more likely to find him rescuing cats from trees and Timmy from down the well. It makes Dean’s blood boil.

What the hell is he up to?

The question has been circling Dean’s brain for far too long.

* * *

Dean ducks out of the gala, checking his phone for police alerts.

“Mr. Winchester!”

Dean swiftly pockets his phone and turns, plastering a bland smile on his face before he sees the newcomer. “Oh, it’s you,” he says sourly.

Cas hurries up the marble stairs, dodging other departing patrons, sticking out like a sore thumb in his boxy trench coat and off-the-rack suit among all the tuxedos and designer gowns. “Do you have a comment about tonight’s fundraiser?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Can’t you make one up?”

Cas bristles, all offended like he gets every time Dean tells him to get lost or pass off someone else’s words as Dean’s. “That would violate my journalistic integrity.”

“Dude, you cover human interest puff pieces,” Dean says scornfully. “Nobody cares.”

“I care,” Cas says, stung.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “For fifteen grand a plate, the shrimp was dry.” He raises an eyebrow. “Happy?”

Cas makes a face like Dean personally force fed him a dozen dry-ass shrimp. “That’s hardly a –”

“That’s all you’re getting,” Dean says sternly.

Cas – Castiel – Carpenter has been a pain in his ass since he caught up with Dean outside Dick Roman’s last New Years Eve party. He hounded Dean for a quote, following him all the way from Roman’s lobby to the street, waiting with Dean for his car to arrive. He kept asking about Roman’s plans to scrap affordable housing developments near the river in favor of luxury condos.

Dean, with a few too many drinks in his stomach, told him Roman could learn a thing or two from the Scooby Gang. Real estate scams never seem to end well in Carver City.

The Winchesters, of course, already had a plan for Roman. Top lawyers, paid through a shell company owned by a shell company based in the Caymans, were already compiling environmental impact reports, and Dean had plans to visit Roman’s penthouse and perhaps dangle him off it, if he didn’t see things Dean's way.

Cas, the sly son of a bitch, hadn’t even printed a word of their discussion, and Dean only found out Cas covered the goddamn gossip pages the next weekend as he scanned the paper for Cas’s byline at two in the morning after a late night run-in with the Angel.

“Mr. Winchester –”

“I’m a busy man,” Dean says coldly as he shoulders past Cas. “If you need to talk to me, you know my PR number.”

Cas falls back, scowling fiercely. “I know you have something to say, Dean!” he calls to his back.

“Get your clickbait somewhere else!”

Dean has places to be and ass to kick, no matter how many times Cas bats those baby blues his way.

* * *

Dean groans, since when did Crowley have the kind of funds to hire these goons? The last he heard, Crowley's mayoral campaign was hemorrhaging money, and Crowley was spending every cent on voter suppression and scare tactics to get his base to the voting booths.

Dean staggers into the storage unit warehouse, clutching a hand to his side where a lucky knife got between the plates of his body armor. He stays alert – a dozen of Crowley’s henchmen tried to take him out and failed, but that doesn’t mean another dozen aren’t waiting in the shadows.

Charlie’s algorithm traced vast amounts of Crowley’s remaining cash to holding five storage units, paying top dollar for quality and security.

Whatever the hell Crowley is keeping here, it’s valuable.

And valuable to Crowley means indispensable to anyone else.

Dean slumps towards the first locker, breathing heavily. His head pounds, and the overhead lights flare as he glances around, trying to get his bearings.

He mentally adds a concussion to his tally of injuries. Sam’s going to have his work cut out for him tonight, if Dean gets home at all.

He reaches into his toolbelt, and his fingers scramble for his set of lockpicks for too long. How the hell he’ll be able to manipulate the delicate tools – well, that’s a bridge to cross when the lock itself stops swaying in front of his eyes.

The blow from behind hits him out of nowhere.

Dean falls forward with a grunt, his ears ringing.

“The vigilante himself,” an unfamiliar voice sneers. “What an honor.”

The next hit cracks the side of Dean’s reinforced cowl, and his ears ring with the force of it. He scrabbles back to his feet, widening his stance on an instinct honed from years of practice. He’s still as wobbly as a newborn kitten, but at least he doesn’t look it.

The man wears a uniform of the warehouse staff, but there’s nothing minimum wage security guard about the way he fights hand-to-hand.

A flurry of blows rain down on Dean, his head, his neck, his chest. The body armor in his suit can only absorb so much of the impact, and Dean’s losing ground, quickly, backed up against a concrete wall.

He has one taser left, though. At his next opening, he dodges a right hook and jams the metal disk against the goon’s neck.

He spasms with a crackle of electricity, and falls to the floor to reveal –

“Fuck,” Dean swears loudly, swinging his fists up to protect his face, not that they’ll do much against superstrength.

But it takes his sluggish brain a soupy moment to realize the Angel's hands aren't raised in fists gunning for his face.

The Angel’s palms reach up to cup his cheeks, and Dean winces, squeezing his eyes shut against the harsh light that always pours out of the Angel’s eye sockets, obscuring his entire face.

“You’re injured,” the Angel murmurs in his otherworldly voice that makes Dean’s chest vibrate with an uncomfortable resonance.

“Nothin’ slips by you, does it?” Dean forces out because, even when he has nothing left, he still has his pride.

The Angel pulls back Dean's cowl, and Dean tries to push the Angel off him, but he might as well be trying to wrestle with a concrete wall. The Angel intones, “This might feel strange.”

“No…” Dean protests, and, god, if these are his last words, they sound pathetic.

“Shh, Dean,” the Angel says, and he doesn’t sound at all surprised by the sight of Dean’s face. Two fingers press against his bare forehead, and Dean jerks away instinctively, but can’t move a hair in the Angel’s firm grip.

A cool, almost rain-like sensation trickles out from the point of contact.

Dean opens his eyes.

Is the light pouring out from the Angel dimming?

Dean’s definitely seeing more clearly now, and the pounding in his head has disappeared. With mounting confusion, he watches as the Angel’s high beam eyes flicker like a bad television signal.

His face – Dean only sees a flash or two, but he would swear –

The Angel stumbles back a step, and Dean straightens, inhaling a painless lungful of air. “What the hell just happened?” he demands.

The Angel shakes his head, and his wings flicker next. They pop back into existence in the space of a blink. Like a lamp on it’s last legs, the beams of light emitting from his eyes give a few weak flares before dying out completely.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes.

Cas sags against the opposite wall, his wings disappearing for good with a silent breath of air. Whatever he'd done to Dean had drained him.

“You –”

Cas stares up at him. “Me,” he agrees quietly.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Dean demands. “You’re – you’re –” He can’t say it.

Cas pushes himself to his feet, his face pallid and eyes weary. “I’m an angel of the lord.”

Dean can’t help his loud snort. “You’re still sticking with that?”

“It’s the truth.”

Dean lays a hand on his utility belt, eyeing Cas warily. He might look as threatening as a belly-up hedgehog, but experience has taught Dean that some opponents are never more dangerous than when they’re cornered.

“If you’re a real angel,” Dean says stiffly, “why are you here? Why now?”

“I was sent here to start the apocalypse,” Cas says.

Dean narrows his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“I don’t joke.”

Dean steps closer, scanning Cas for any sign of an impending fight. “You wanna give me a reason not to end you right here and now?”

But Cas stays right where he is. “Those were my orders. But when I arrived on Earth, I had my doubts.”

“It was you – the blind fishermen,” Dean says coldly, “that incident on Halloween.”

Cas nods miserably. “Mistakes, all of them.”

“I couldn’t figure out what was up with you,” Dean admits. “You went from nabbing Patty Hearst in December to landing broken planes in the river in January.”

Cas tilts his head. “Because of you.”

Dean can’t have heard that right. But as Dean lets the silence drag on, Cas doesn’t take it back or explain. Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You showed me humanity is worth saving,” Cas says, his voice almost painfully sincere. “So I disobeyed my orders. I turned my back on Heaven. I followed in your footsteps.” He meets Dean’s stunned gaze squarely. “I did it all for you.”

“I – what?”

“You care so much for this city, for your people,” Cas continues, and Dean, torn between telling him to keep going or shut the hell up, stays silent. Cas goes on, “You regularly put yourself in harm’s way to protect them, usually from themselves. You donate enormous sums of money and manipulate an extremely complicated political machine to make sure they have safe water to drink and places to rest.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck, muttering, “Somebody’s gotta.” He jerks his head up. “Hold on, you knew it was me? The whole time?”

“Why do you think I was so hellbent on talking to you?” Cas asks dryly, the faintest of blushes dusting his cheeks.

“And I always thought it was because of my perky nipples,” Dean says distractedly. All those times Cas hollered questions about the latest government developments; where his next grant was going; who he was backing in the mayoral race. That was the Angel.

“I’m, uh, sure they’re very perky,” Cas says awkwardly.

Dean narrows his eyes. “How’d you find out?”

Cas cocks his head, his blue eyes intense as they study Dean’s face. “Your soul. It’s unlike any other I’ve encountered in the way it shines.”

Dean swallows, embarrassed of all things. “You can see souls?”

Cas nods. “Yours as well as the five people behind these storage locker doors.”

Dean freezes. “What the fuck?” He stares, horrified at the closest one, his hand already pulling out his set of lockpicks. “You’re serious?” At Cas’s confused nod, Dean swears colorfully. “And you kept talkin’ like we’re on a Sunday drive?”

As Dean ducks down to get to work on the first lock, Cas says matter-of-factly, “None of Crowley’s victims are near death. They’ve all been fed and watered recently, and eleven more minutes won’t have a great effect on their physical or mental health.”

“Alright, Patrick Bateman,” Dean says, but the accusation lacks any heat, “Superhero Rule Number One: you always get the damsels out of distress first.”

“I understand.”

Dean glances up at him as the lock clicks open. “After this, you and me, we’re gonna have a long talk.” He huffs a laugh as he pulls his cowl back up. “You want to know what I think about this city? I’ll give you enough quotes to fill a bible.”

“I might hold you to that,” Cas murmurs as Dean heaves the metal door open.

Read the sequel here!

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #superhero au #superhero dean #superhero castiel #doctor sam #rich dean #journalist castiel #enemies to lovers #rae writes fic

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darrowsrising · 5 months

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what is your opinion on House Raa (Atlas aside)? In some parts of the fandom they’re very popular but I agree with Darrow when he said he found them pathetic because for all their talks about duty they’re pretty spineless… they talk about the 10+ years war but they did absolutely nothing about it until the very end??

Plus they cannot come out with a decent war strategy for the life of them, from book 3 to 6 they’ve been taking shit from all sides

(Un)holy Reaper of Mars, but are they stupid!

Please check under the cut for a long ass rant as to why I am saying that. I am quite meh about them in general, I do like certain aspects and what the plot does with them.

Should be illegal to be that stupid. No wonder Octavia subjugated them like that, stupid. Their last braincell died with Romulus, stupid. How the fuck are you even allowed to live in this cutthroat universe, stupid? Stupidity isn't a victimless crime, stupid.

I would have preffered if Atlas wasn't the one to deliver judgement on them, but...they were stupid enough to make it happen, so can't be mad. That and the Rim needed to move forward, conflicts with Darrow would not have helped and change was not on the horizon. At all. There had to be something truly evil to even make Diomedes, the only saving grace, consider things.

Up to a point, I can understand why House Raa is the way it is. That point is Romulus himself. There is this pride and indoctrination that accumulates over generations and it gets people stuck. But it's unexcusable to go past that point and instead of moving with a purpose, you're just sitting in an echo chamber of fascism. And it's not morally speaking, as much as...how can you not see the trap prepared for you? How can you lack so much self-awareness?

To be completely fair, I think the only brain in the Rim Dominion is Aurae. Even the Daughters of Athena have problems on that front. But that is another discussion.

The House Raa situation is somewhat similar but opposite to that of Dancer and the Vox in the Senate. They claim something, are confident in their own power, but have no idea just how dangerous and rotten things are, while it was their job to know. And when tragedy strikes, it is unfair and evil.

I can see why their fans are fascinated by House Raa, but I cannot get people who are into these guys for their code of honour, because it's just a tad better than House Bellona's. Which does not mean much at all.

Other than that, I think their involvement in the books is a Pierce Brown thing, not a 'they did nothing' thing. He wanted them to be involved as much as it worked for his plot and not anymore. They suit the plot instead of the plot suiting them, which is not necessarily Pierce Brown's modus operandi. That is why I claim that he is a better writer when he does not have to limit himself and set-up novels in this series are weaker.

But on the other hand, I can buy the 'they may have various advantages, they are too stuck to be adaptive to warfare as it happens in real time'.

One thing that I have noticed for House Raa as a defining trait is a genuine, deliberately instilled fear. They would rather die than face what they think is dishonour. They are afraid to...grow a braincell disobey and/or dishonour. And that inhibits them more than necessary. They become insensitized, they don't care about human beings because it's human decency to do so, they just act with the moral code permitted. Even when they do disobey, it is within those limits, so they can act on it and get away with it. They kept Akari so close, his very ashes chokes them with his long lost dogmas.

Diomedes is the only one allowed to continue to serve the plot because he has genuine compassion. As you have read in Light Bringer, not much brains, however. That is because he was raised to be permissive of Golds, just like the Rim Lords were ready to accept Octavia once again in MS, for the sake of their own Color.

Not only he could not understand Cassus Belli when it hit him on the head - I did not need Darrow to underatand what Lysander was doing tbh, so Diomedes has no excuse - he was helpless with the Garter, because he put himself in that position. He did not think for one second that ot would come to that. That any Gold would do that, let alone Lysander.

There were plenty warnings, but he simply bet all on the few interactions with Lysander. And it did not take Lysander much sacrifice at all. Darrow has to do godly things to impress upon allies and foes alike and he makes it look easy. Lysander just jas to wiggle his mouth and participate in stuff. Participate.

He is also treated with gloves, because most obstacles put in his way are sort of slaps on the wrists or tests for worthiness. And his allies properly buy this stuff and Diomedes and Dido did too. Poor baby got poisoned and he still went to the Rim? What a champ!

Saving Diomedes was the only strong point, tbh, but...idk, these guys put too much price on their own lives. He was not saved with the tought that he will come back and reclaim power, no doubt about it.

It literally costs the Garter for Diomedes to understand why peace cannot be built on the compromise that keeps slavery intact. All because that is the legacy of House Raa, a code that is way beyond applicable. Honouring tradition and adapting to new winds do not have to be exclusive - see Primus of House Augustus, Virginia Augustus and her lion ring.

In my humble opinion, House Augustus rules. Always has, always will. Aesthetics, smarts, good and evil. Even Nero's limits were fascinating and believable. But the difference is that House Augustus affaires created plot oppprtunities and drove it forward. House Raa is more of a tool moved by the plot, which isn't a bad thing, but it divides the public. Then again, it's hard to impress me after Dark Age, so there is surely a me problem too.

Took an hour to write this, lol. Hope it's worth something.

#light bringer spoilers #red rising #iron gold tetralogy #house raa

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wo-onu · 1 year

Text

╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ [character profile]

* ・✦⇢ contents :: yandere!oc first meeting + various scenarios + hcs

* ・✦⇢ warnings/cw :: yandere themes, constant watching, obsessive behaviour, violent thoughts (not towards the reader or oc), sexism (not explicit but implied), profanities, threatening thoughts (not towards darling)

* ・✦⇢ additional notes :: can be read as gn. also, no particular traits mentioned except dimples on darling, as well as being younger than oc. word “tiny” is used, but it just meant that you are shorter than haejoon. also, mentioned attending taekwondo training. again, no particulars but it is written with feminine chubby + plus sized reader in mind though not explicitly specified in the post.

:: a/n: this is a whopping 5k+ work. sorry it’s such a long work but haejoon and his darling has quite the history together. honestly it doesn’t even cover all of it but here ya go~ do tell me if i didn’t note anything or missed something ㅠㅡㅠ didn’t have time to double check everything so yea. again, feedbacks/likes/reblogs/requests are welcomed!

:: will be split in two parts!

PLEASE DON’T EVER BECOME A STRANGER WHOSE LAUGH I COULD RECOGNISE EVERYWHERE !

yandere!oc

ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 kang haejoon :: 강 해준

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~ ☆゜ first meeting headcanons + scenario !

[part one] [part two]

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ haejoon was a sunbae in high school, while you were his hoobae. he was two grades above you, meaning he was a senior while you were a freshman. though, you did skip a grade therefore you were at least 3 years younger than him.

this is tiring.

haejoon couldn’t believe his luck. he was late because he insisted that he can survive going to school using public transportation instead of the comfort of their own car and personal driver. so now, he’s panting and huffing despite his innate athleticism because he doesn’t want to be late.

i shouldn’t have been so stubborn. a regret belatedly thought.

a shortcut would’ve definitely solved his problem, but it just so happened that he got off at the route that was quite a long walk to the school.

“oh as i thought, you’re here again.” a quiet voice rang in the desolate area. curious, haejoon looked around and spotted a tiny figure squatting down as an even smaller kitten meowed in response.

forgetting about running out of time, he stood out of sight and continued to observe what was happening in front of him.

someone i’ve never seen before, but is undoubtedly wearing our uniform. haejoon thought as he watched you rummage through your bag before taking out some canned cat food, with a satisfied grin as if proud of yourself for accomplishing such a task. how cute.

“i’m sorry i can’t come and take you... im really worried you’d be in danger since you don’t have a home,” seeing as how you kept talking to the kitten as it eats, perhaps you are the type to not mind being late.

“i really want to keep you... but my family will be against it, im sorry. but i hope you continue going here so i can at least feed you a little.” with a slight frown, haejoon wondered how someone can utter such sweet words despite having a poker face. weren’t you just grinning awhile ago? the more he watched you fuss over the kitten and made sure it was okay and had no injuries or something, you finally dusted yourself off, carrying the kitten in your hand.

“i will go now, see you later” shaking the kittens paw as if in a handshake, you bent down to set the kitten on the ground once more. once down, the kitten then nuzzled their tiny face on your ankle, a smile finally overtaking your features.

dimples... how cute.

then, as you watch the kitten stroll away, face wiped of expression, you checked the time and shrugged, leisurely walking down the school.

haejoon watched all this with a curious face, how come someone is that relaxed knowing they’re late?

‘shit, should i be thinking about that? i’m late’ he jogged a little and ensured he will slightly bump into you, as if he’s not been watching you this entire time.

with a quiet ‘huh?’ you looked at the person who bumped you, stepping back to see his face clearer.

“i’m so sorry, i’m running late so i was in a hurry and didn’t see you, are you alright?” flashing his social smile, as it had yet failed to capture anyone’s attention, he feigned worry as he himself knew he didn’t even bump into you that bad.

“no, it’s alr— um excuse me? are you sure you’re running late? do you have a meeting you need to attend early or something?”

“huh?” dumbfounded, all haejoon could do is stare at you. oh my god, she responded.

“huh? well, unless you have prior engagements, i don’t think you should be rushing. it’s two hours before bell.” double checking your phone, you showed him the time.

embarrassment filled him, heat rushed through his head. no way, did those punks mess with my phone to make me panic? just wait til i get them.

“o-oh, um, yes! that’s right! i’m needed somewhere so i’m in a hurry, i’m really sorry!” slightly bowing, his eyes landed at your slight extended hand holding a handkerchief to him.

“alright. then, use this to wipe yourself at least. you don’t need to give it back.” unable to still shake his own humiliation, he nodded and said a quick thanks, then immediately ran to make it seem he really is late to a meeting. he’s not even part of the school committee or whatever. although, you seem to be unaware of that.

then, his little crush began.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ weeks and weeks after that, he continued taking the longer route to school, asking his driver to drop him off there instead of the school. all so he could catch a glimpse of a person who had a mean poker face and dead eyes, but is so strangely cute. to him, the tiny person fussing over an even tinier kitten, and seem to like the wildflowers growing around, was a person he always wanted to be with.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ he was only properly introduced to you during an event committee meeting, as the school decided to give you an important role (he later learned that you got in with a perfect score, and later became known for great achievements). while he was the head of the committee. his world shattered when he realised you don’t even remember meeting him a few months back, but quickly collected himself becaus he knew he was to blame for that.

“everyone, gather around here and introduce yourselves. we have two new member for this year’s committee; our maknae, [your name], and our hard to get sunbae, kang haejoon.”

after a few minutes of introduction and the almost premeditated mingling afterwards was draining on you and it doesn’t take a genius to guess that being all friendly and socialising with others is not your scene. kang haejoon took all of the notes he could take by watching you. although, a bit subtly so that people around him won’t be able to notice. in fact, everyone thought he’s also just looking out for this committee’s maknae.

in truth, although you have never seemed all that outgoing to him, you were actually more shy and timid that he anticipated. despite being the centre of attention yourself, you were quite unaware of how people seem to be drawn to you and always seeking your presence.

as he saw you expertly remove yourself from a conversation between you and a couple second years, he approached you.

“hello! once again, my name is kang haejoon. i heard you’re also a new member for this year, although i am your sunbae, this is also my first time despite them inventing me for three years straight. please take care of me,” he said in impeccable manner.

“ah... yes... nice to meet you sunbae, please take good care of me too.” after a brief confusion reflecting in your eyes, you politely greeted your sunbae who was patiently waiting for a response.

“yes, yes. nice to meet you, although i don’t doubt you’ll take good care of this sunbae, as you already have.” this time, an even more palpable confusion was reflected in you.

after a pregnant pause, you responded, “i’ve taken good care of you?”

they don’t even remember me. haejoon mused.

he’s not hurt by that. he does not have any high expectations in the first place; he would only be a fool to do so when he has not even approached you once after watching you for so long.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ at 27, he met you again after finishing his work and going to a spontaneous dinner with his two best friends. there, he finally asked for your number, despite being still flustered around you. he thought that if he missed this chance, he will just waste away an eternity’s worth of time.

the restaurant was buzzing with background noise, people chattering and the movement of the staff to fulfil everyone’s orders. in the midst of it all, he heard a voice he thought was very familiar.

that voice! urgently looking around, he tried to find the source of the person he heard ordering. once his gaze landed on a figure he’s all too familiar with, his heart raced with anticipation. yes, he should’ve expected to run into you here even with the tiniest bit possibility. after all, this was your favourite italian restaurant near your high school. back then, it was so hard to get a meal with you, always having your guard up and declining every potential situation wherein you guys can be alone.

his friends, who followed his gaze gasped when they saw you, “hey! isn’t that? haejoon-ah, why not talk to them again? go ask for their contact or something!”

“that’s right! ya!! kang haejoon! this might be your last chance~”

“shut up both of you,” he grouched. “they looked so pretty even after all these years... no, have they become a fairy? a god/dess? they really didn’t have to grow up and be so pretty ... what is this, i can’t believe a mere mortal like me was really intent on marrying such a beautiful creature... i can’t,” with his ears going red, he suddenly covered his entire face with both his hands.

“haejoon-ah, they literally looked the same as back then, just go”

“look at this weirdo... at this rate, you’re never getting them.”

with a playful glare, “fine. only because you guys kept forcing me to. i’ll go there since i was forced to.”

“yes, yes. in your wedding just say we also pushed that ourselves.”

standing up and puffing his chest a little, he took a deep breath. striding to where you sat with a couple of people, he tried catching your eyes. once your eyes landed on his, a flash of recognition flashed through them. oh, we’re really at a stage where they instantly recognise me. he giddily thought.

slightly waving with a small smile, he continued to walk towards you while you stood up to meet him. reaching you, he finally greeted, “[name]-yah, it’s been so long, how is my favourite hoobae?”

“sunbae! yes it has, how have you been?” your quiet nature really is the same as ever.

“i see you’re still the same,” voicing his sentiments, you threw him a mock glare.

“what? you’re picking a fight the moment we reunited? how cold of you~” you clicked your tongue, disapproving.

“aigoo~ look at this disrespectful punk, you’re speaking so insolently.”

“eh? you’re the one who told me to drop formalities, you can’t take it back, sunbae”

“that’s right... i guess i spoiled you too much then.”

“what nonsense are you talking about.”

“huh? what do you mean nonsense! i took such good care of you! this ungrateful brat!”

“yes~ yes~ im so thankful to have such a nice sunbae~” you mockingly responded.

“as you should! now, it’s been so long, is your contact still the same? no... you’re the type to not even give out your number...”

“oh? i changed it for awhile since i just moved back in korea, here let me give it to you,” you gestured for him to lend you his phone. doing so, you quickly typed in your number. double checking your own phone to see if you did it correctly.

“cool, i’ll contact you soon and be in touch! stop your bad habit of not replying, will you? i won’t hold you too long since you have company, i’ll talk to you soon instead.”

“oh, yes. sure, sure. whatever. i’ll respond. then see you around, sunbae.” you waved him off, slightly bowing.

he softly touched your back and whispered lowly in your ear, “you guys eat well, i know this is one of your go-to places. it’s my treat. let’s say it’s a thank you for your number,” before you can protest, he’s quickly going back to his own table. leaving you with no choice but to eat the night away with your colleagues. knowing your sunbae’s personality, he won’t change his mind. not when it comes to treating you to a meal, anyway.

important ! had to split this one into two posts instead because i hit character limit ㅠㅡㅠ i guess it’s to be expected since it is 5k+ but it was still a bit . . . anyway, i will be posting the other half later 🤍

#yandere oc #male yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #soft yandere #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #221221 — 20.12 ♡

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strangerquinns · 2 years

Text

'86 Baby!: Chapter Eleven

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

A Stranger Things Season 4 Rewrite: It’s Senior Year for Hawkins High School Class of '86. But while most are dealing with the pressure of finales, the threat of the Upside Down looms over you and your friends. But an old friend is soon pulled into the darkness, and all you hope to do is save him while pushing away old feelings.

story warning: dark themes like; death, blood, violence, descriptions of dead bodies + other Stranger Things related warnings. themes: fluff w/ angst + smut

word count: 4.1k+ // ’86 Baby! masterlist

Chapter Eleven: Vecna/Henry/One

"Tapes! Tapes, we need tapes!" You screamed the moment you realized what was happening to Nancy. "Everyone...split up! See what we can find!"

Everyone broke off and scrambled to search through the Munson trailer for a cassette for Nancy to try and pull her from Vecna's curse. You went to the most obvious room in the entire trailer which was Eddie's room. You knew that he had a ton of music, always has since you two were kids, but you also knew Eddie had a very specific taste. A taste that you weren't sure if Nancy Wheeler was going to relate to, let alone have a favorite song from.

You looked around frantically, your eyes landing on the various clothes thrown along the bedroom floor and band posters on the walls. Robin, Dustin and Eddie followed into the room after you. Dustin searched along the bookshelf that was on the wall across from his bed. You walked straight to the closet and looked up, seeing the containers you knew would be up there. Ever since you two were kids, you knew this was where Eddie kept his tapes.

"Robin! Search through here!" You called out, grabbing down a bin and placing it down in front of her as she sat on the boxspring sitting in Eddie's frame. "See if you can see anything Nancy might like!"

From down the hall and out into the main part of the trailer you could hear people running around, things bumping into others, along with people shouting in pure panic. You grabbed down a couple more and place another down in front of Dustin while you searched through your own.

"Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!" Steve's voice echoed up from the gate making your heart leap into your throat. You knew everyone was feeling the exact same knowledge that your friend was in the monster's grasp.

"Steve says you need to hurry!!" Erica shouted back, just as Max and Lucas came into the bedroom, joining Dustin in searching through his bookcase or through his dresser.

"Yeah, no shit!" Dustin screamed while at the same time Lucas replied back "We're trying!"

"We can't find anything!" Max spoke, coming beside you and searching through the larger container in front of you. "What is all this shit!?"

"What are we even looking for?" Eddie asked, as he moved to Robin and looked over the cassettes she'd dumped out onto the box spring.

"Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles? Music! We need music." Robin spoke frantically as her anxiety and fear started to take over.

The moment you looked up you could see the offense go across Eddie's face, his hand reaching down and grabbing the first tape that he found. "This! Is! Music!"

His voice raised up into that specific voice he has whenever he's shouting. It's a little raspy, it's a little squeaky, but it was a clear sign that he was riled up. You stood up quickly and stepped between the two teenagers. "Ok...alright, I think what Robin means is music that Nancy would like."

"It's not my fault Wheeler doesn't have good taste in music," Eddie's dark eyes moved to you, his face a little red.

"We are trying to get her snapped out of a curse! I think it's really important that it's something that she likes. Not just Ozzy screaming in her ear." You rolled your eyes and moved to look through what Robin as dumped out. "We need good music."

Eddie's eyes widened more. "You're telling me this isn't good music!? Last time I checked Metallica was a certain someone's favorite."

"Eddie! You know that's not what I meant," You turned to him more and grabbed each side of his face, making him focus on you. "Please! We need to save Nancy!"

You didn't even give Eddie a chance to reply or say more on the matter as you walked out to the living room toward the gate. You looked up through it to see Nancy still under his spell but hadn't lifted yet.

"Steve! We might need to think of something else here!" You shouted down, causing him to pop his head up to you. You could see the clear worry in his eyes and it broke your heart. It was clear as day that Steve still loved Nancy, and not as a friend. The affection that he held for her only seemed to grow stronger through the years, even after they broke up.

But before Steve could say anything, Nancy's eyes opened wide and a loud gasp came from her lips. Her grip tightened around Steve's arms as her legs began to shake.

"Hey! Hey!" Steve spoke, caressing her face as Nancy continued to pant, her eyes moving wildly. "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."

Slowly Steve moved to lay Nancy down across the trailer floor, caressing her face to try and have her focus on him. Nancy quickly moved into his arms and grabbed him tightly as she continued to frantically breathe.

"I've got you, I've got you," Steve whispered into her ear, holding her shaking frame. "You're safe. I've got you."

"We need to pull her out of there," You spoke, watching in amazement to see she'd snapped out of the trance herself. "He let her go, we need to get her out of there Steve!"

"I know!" His head snapped up at you, his voice a little tense, before looking back down at Nancy. "Come on, Nance, come on."

Steve bundled her into his arms, before moving to the rope. Nancy was still shaking as her hand reached out and grasped it tightly, She stood there for a moment like she was contemplating, before moving to push herself up the sheet rope.

"Come on, Nancy, I've got you" You spoke gently, a stressed smile coming across your face.

From behind you, the sounds of footsteps slowly coming from Eddie's room and into the living room could be heard. There was a tense silence that filled the entire trailer as you waited. You watched as Nancy worked to pull herself up the rope and out of the Upside Down. The moment she broke through the gate and started to fall forward, you moved out of the way, letting the mattress catch her. The moment she broke through, you reached to help her stand from the ground and pulled her into your arms.

You heard her whimper softly, her body still shaking, as her delicate arms wrapped around you tightly. You felt another body come up beside you with a hard impact and look to see Robin wrapping her arms around the two of you. You couldn't help the tears that came to your eyes with both relief and fear. Relieved that Nancy was safe, but scared of why Vecna would let her go.

From behind Nancy, you looked over her head to see Steve fall through the gate. When Seve stood up and looked at you, you could see the fear you were feeling reflecting back to you in his eyes.

~.~

"Nance," You spoke softly, moving to kneel down in front of her, reaching your hands up to grasp her shaking hands.

Everyone had moved from Eddie's trailer across the street to Max's, sneaking Eddie over in the process and hoping no one spotted him. Everyone took seats throughout the living room of the Mayfield trailer. It was tense and silent, everyone looking around the room at one another, not sure what to say. That was when you took it upon yourself to be the one to move.

You all needed to know what happened, and time wasn't exactly on your side to wait around for Nancy to tell you all.

Her gaze moved from your conjoined hands to your face. Unshed tears swam in her warm brown eyes and it made your heart hurt for her. You couldn't imagine the fear that she was feeling right now. You're sure the only person that could relate was Max.

"He...uh...showed me things that haven't happened yet..." Nancy started, her voice barely over a whisper. "....the most awful things...I saw...a dark cloud, spreading over Hawkins, downtown on fire...dead soldiers...and then this...g-giant creature with a...gaping mouth. And this creature wasn't alone...there were so many monsters. An army." Your hands gripped around her tighter as you heard the slight crack in her voice. "They were everywhere, in our homes...and then...he showed me, my mom...Holly...Mike...and they..." A single tear moved down her cheek "...they were all...t-they..."

"Shhh, shhh." You shook your head, reaching a hand up to wipe away her tears. Nancy leaned into your touch slightly before bowing her head. "You don't have to say it."

Nancy sniffled and nodded her head, looking up through her lashes at you, "Thank you."

Everyone was quiet once again, except for Nancy's soft sniffles every few moments. You moved up onto the small bench with Nancy and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her close. Nancy was strong, you knew this, but you wanted to bring your friend some comfort. Even the strongest have their weak moments at times.

"Okay...but...he's trying to scare you, Nance," Steve spoke up, leaning forward on his knees. "Right? I mean...that's not real."

"Not yet." Nancy quickly replied, "There was something else...He showed me gates. Four gates. Spreading across Hawkins. And these gates looked exactly like the one outside of Eddie's trailer."

Your eyes darted across the room instinctually to him at the mention of his name. Eddie sat beside Steve, his hand fisted against his mouth, and his eyes wide. His gaze locked with yours the second you looked at him and you saw them. The unshed tears, just like Nancy.

"They didn't stop growing," Nancy continued "They didn't stop growing. This wasn't the Upside Down Hawkins, this was our Hawkins. Our home."

"Four chimes," Max spoke up from her post against the archway that was between the living room and kitchen, everyone's head snapped in her direction. "Four chimes from Vecna's clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly."

"I heard them too," Nancy nodded her head

"He's been telling us his plan this entire time." Max scoffed and shook her head.

"Four chimes. Four kills. Four gates." You spoke up, your eyes locking with Max's "And in the end...he'll bring the end of the world."

That only made the room around you feel a little tighter as the realization slowly came across everyone's minds. Quickly you stood form beside Nancy and rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly feeling more anxious than before and not being able to sit still anymore.

"If that's correct then he's only one more kill away," Dustin concluded

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!" You heard Eddie groan from behind you. You turned around to look at him and saw his face was in his hands, angrily rubbing at his face and running through his hair.

"Try calling them again!" Steve shouted to Max, referencing when you'd been trying to call the Byers' home phone after coming over here. And just like the other times, the line was busy.

Max marched across the kitchen to the wall where her phone was hanging. She grabbed it quickly and dialed the number for the Byers. A phone number she was quickly able to memorize now with the times they've tried calling. You all waited with bated breath as she stood there for a couple seconds, before groaning and hanging up again.

"Line's busy again," Max shook her head, before walking back to the rest of you.

"Maybe you dialed it wrong?" Steve questioned

"I think she knows how to work a phone, Steve." You spoke as you walked over to the couch, taking the empty seat beside Eddie.

"I'm just saying...maybe she dialed it wrong?" Steve shrugged.

You rolled your eyes and moved to loop your arm through Eddies, pulling yourself so close to him, you might as well be in his lap. You felt Eddie relax the moment he felt you sitting beside him. His head moving away from his hands and down to you. You gave him a weak and saddened smile as you rested your head on his arm. Eddie quickly laced your fingers with his and brought them closer to his lips. You felt his lips press a soft kiss to the back of yours, before keeping it there. It wasn't long till he seemed to slip back into his own thoughts as everyone else around the two of you seemed to bicker about whether the Byers phone worked or not.

"We're going to figure this out," You whispered softly. "All hope isn't lost yet, Eddie."

"How can you be so sure?" He questioned, his voice soft and it made you frown slightly.

"Because I have to be," You shrugged your shoulders, "Can't let the bad thoughts in. That's what helps him win."

Eddie kept his eyes locked with yours and could feel the doubt that was creeping into his mind slowly fade away.

"We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down." Nancy's voice pulled the two of you out of the little bubble you'd created. Also hearing that made that doubt come right back for Eddie.

"Whoa, no, no, no, no. What?" Steve exclaimed from the other side of Eddie, quickly standing up from where he sat.

"Nope. No." Eddie quickly spoke up, shaking his head as he looked up at Nancy.

"Le'ts think this through for a moment, Nancy." You spoke, a humorless chuckle leaving your lips.

"What do we need to think about?!" She questioned. "We need to go back and kill this son-of-a-bitch!"

"Yeah, and we barely made it out of there in the first place, you quickly slipped into his clutches!" Steve argued

"But we weren't prepared. But this time...this time we'll have weapons and protection." Nancy became more animated as she talked. "We'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him."

"Yeah, or kill us!" Steve countered, clear frustration in his voice.

"The only reason you survived, Nancy, was because Vecna wanted you to." You spoke, moving to stand with Steve in front of her. "Vecna isn't like what we've fought before, this is serious. It takes less than a second for him to get into our heads. We got lucky with Max, and we got really lucky with you. But who's to say next time we don't get lucky? That's going to get someone killed. He's not scared of us!"

"And why would he?" Robin spoke up, popping up from her seat on the ground. "We were wrong about Vecna...Henry...One. What are we calling him?"

"Vecna," Dustin spoke

"Henry," Steve said at the same time.

"One?" You finished off, only causing Robin's head to contort with confusion, before shaking her head.

"Right," Robin shrugged "Well, we have learned that Vecna/Henry/One is just another number. Like Eleven. Only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really, really bad skin." Robin's words become more jumbled more excited and animated she gets. "But my....my point is...that's he's super powerful and he can' turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. Y/N is right! We got lucky, and us going back isn't a fair fight!"

"So then why fight fair?" Dustin asked calmly, "You're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us the upper hand...we know his strengths and weaknesses."

"Weaknesses?" Eric questions, her tone giving away that she clearly didn't believe Dustin.

"When El remote travels, she goes into this trance-like state...I bet it's the same for Vecna."

"Which would leave his body defenseless?" Lucas speaks up, questioning himself. But he was right. Dustin was onto something.

"Yes. Which when he goes into this trance-like state that would give us the upper hand."

"Would explain why he's in the attic at Creel house. He needs somewhere safe, so he's not vulnerable." Nancy spoke, a more hopeful look in her eyes. A drastic difference to only minutes ago. "He needs to do the same thing El does when she remote travels to get his kills. I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless,"

"That's all good and all, but...um...we're forgetting one thing. The army of bats." Steve spoke up. "We forget that Y/N and I nearly became those things dinner? We aren't gonna get past those."

"We'll have to distract them, long enough to get to Vecna." You turned to look over your shoulder at Steve. His face was one of betrayal, knowing you were slipping to the side that agreed to go back in.

"And," Eddie rose his hand, clearing his throat, before continuing to speak the moment he had everyone's attention. "How do we do that exactly?"

"No clue. But I'm sure we'll come up with something." You shrugged "But once we have them pulled away, he is completely defenseless."

"That sounds all cool in theory, but, we don't know his pattern of killings. We do not have anything to decipher who that target is going to be."

Everyone paused for a moment as the new problem arouse thanks to Robin's questioning. She wasn't wrong. None of this will work unless everyone knew the who and where of Vecna and would try and kill again.

"Except that we do," Max's voice broke through the silence. "We do know one of these victims....me..."

"No Max," Lucas began to argue.

"I can still feel him. I'm still marked. The moment I ditch Kate Bush, I'll be vulnerable to him. I can lure him into the trap."

"Max...you can't." Lucas moved to stand in front of her. "If he gets you, he will kill you."

"I fought and won once before, I can do it again," Max spoke with clear determination in her voice. "I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can go into that attic and kill him. Chop his head off, put a stake through his heart, I really don't give a shit. But whatever you do, don't fucking miss."

"Anyone knows where we can get some supplies?" Nancy asked, "We're gonna need more than the two guns that are in my closet."

"I might know a place," Eddie stood from the couch and looked around Max's home for a moment, before quickly walking over to the kitchen table. He grabbed the phone book before quickly starting to flip through it. His face was in hard concentration before a smile broke across his face. "Got it."

Everyone walked over to him quickly as he laid the phone book down on the kitchen table in front of him. Right at the bottom left of the page was a large ad, a man dressed like Rambo holding a machine gun took up most of the picture. The War Zone, right below him in big letters.

"Check this out. The War Zone," Eddie started "I've been there once. It's huge. They've got, well....everything for basically...killing things."

"Do you think fake Rambo is going to have enough guns there?" Robin spoke, moving a little closer to Eddie as she looked down over the ad. "What is that? A gernade? I mean, how in the hell is any of this legal?"

"Well, lucky for us, it is," Eddie spoke sarcastically "So..th-this place is just far out enough from Hawkins to where we can fly under the radar. Far from cops and...angry Hicks."

"If we're trying to avoid angry hicks...this might not be the place to go," Erica spoke

"Normally, Erica, I'd agree. But we need weapons and this seems like the place where we can get some." You sighed, pushing away from the table. "We do have one problem, how exactly are we getting there?"

"Yeah, it's not like we can all climb into Steve's station wagon and drive there. We'd be spotted in seconds." Nancy said.

"I have that idea covered too." Eddie stood straighter, that sly smirk causing his dimples to show. You knew that look. That look got you in trouble a lot as a kid. "It's...uh...not exactly mine. But it'll do."

"I know that look, Munson..." You playfully glared your eyes at him. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"Not going to tell you, sweetheart" Eddie lightly laughed, before turning to face Max. "Hey, Red, do you have like a ski mask or a bandanna or something?"

"Uh...yeah, let me go and look," Max spoke, before turning back to her bedroom and disappearing down the hall.

Everyone else seemed to slip into their conversations or thoughts as Max left away from everyone else. Eddie watched as you seemed to slip away and head toward the front of the house and to the other hallway. His brows pulled together tightly before following after you. He stood in the arch of the hallway confused for a moment, till he heard the sound of someone moving around in the bathroom. Eddie stepped up and knocked twice on the door, only waiting a few moments before the door swung open.

"Hey...you ok?" He asked, stepping closer to you. He surrounded you and oddly that was making you feel better than if you were alone at the moment.

"Y-Yeah...I just...needed a moment." You took a deep breath, reaching a hand up to scratch along your forehead. "It's just...a lot. I know I said we're going to figure it out...and I still think that...I do! But..."

"It's a lot," Eddie finished, nodding his head and taking a deep breath, raising his hands up to rest on his waist. "I-Is it crazy to ask you to not go into the Upside Down?"

You cocked your head to the side, "I-I mean...a little." Your brows pulled together in confusion for a moment, "Why don't you want me to go?"

"Because I want you safe...I-I don't want the same thing that happened to Nancy to happen to you." Eddie started to become a little nervous as he spoke. "I...What if it happens and we can't save you? I-I can't save you?"

"Eddie..."

"Seeing you lying there on that floor...I-I nearly lost it. I..." Eddie turned his head away, feeling his throat start to choke up. You moved closer to him and placed your hands on his chest. He took a couple deep breaths. "You guys have dealt with this before, but I haven't. I'm not as confident as you all are."

"You saved me last time, Eddie," You reached up and caressed his face, having him look down at you. "We can't be sure what's going to go on. But I can say I will do everything I can to stay safe. Because of that fear you're feeling, Eddie. I'm feeling it too."

Eddie pressed his lips into a thin line as he tried to fight back the tears he was feeling. He was going through these waves of fear and it was making him feel nauseous. But he couldn't help it when flashes of you struggling against the demo bat flashed through his mind. Eddie reached his hand up to lightly run his fingers along your cheek, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

"I just need you to be ok, Y/N," Eddie spoke.

You nodded your head and pushed up on your toes before pressing your lips against his. Eddie stood frozen for a moment before he reached to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss more. Your hands reached to fist the front of his shirt and pull him closer to you. In a short span of time, you were quickly becoming addicted to the taste of Eddie Munson on your lips.

"I got something for Eddie, and was thinking maybe Y/N would want a shirt?" Max spoke as she came back to join the group, holding one of her mom's t-shirts in her hand. She looked up to see almost everyone in the kitchen, except you and Eddie. She also noticed Robin looking toward the other hall with a small smile on her lips. "W-Where are they?"

"Having a little moment," Robin spoke with a dreamy tone, looking back to the rest of the group. Steve walked up beside her and saw what she was talking about. He made a sound of disgust and rolled his eyes.

"Really? We dont have time for this." Steve whispered harshly.

"I think it's sweet!" Robin reached back and swatted at Steve, "He went after her when she was obviously upset. Leave them alone."

"I'm just sayin'." Steve rose his hands up in defense.

Robin rolled her eyes and scoffed as she shook her head, turning back to the couple at the end of the hall. They weren't kissing anymore, instead speaking closely to each other. There was nothing more, that made Robin Buckley happier than seeing her friends happy.

"Hey, lovebird!" Robin's voice caused you and Eddie to step back from each other, looking down toward her. "We go something to disguise your man!"

"Sweet," Eddie spoke under his breath, reaching down and grabbing your hand before leading you down the hall. "What have you got for me, Red?"

Max didn't say a word, just rose up the Micheal Myers Halloween mask in her hands.

Ok...so maybe more than 6 chapters? I have no clue tbh honest still there is too much in the last chapters and I don't wanna cut stuff out cause I want this story to be believable and enjoyable for you all. I'm not ready to let this go, so I might stretch her out a little haha.

Also thank you to all the new followers! I have reached over 4k and grew quickly because of this story. So thank you. Would love to know everyone's thoughts. thank you

‘86 Baby! Tag list ~ let me know if you want me to add you!! i love reading thoughts and comments so please leave one!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x female reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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gachagon · 1 year

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"The Astral Express crew warp to Teyvat, only to find it in ruins. All that remains is a single Celestial nail..."

The Astral Express charts a course for a new planet, one that's very old and has a long history of war according to Welt. However, when they arrive, there is nothing left. The world is totally decimated, as if something has ripped it apart. Chunks of it float off into space, and the worlds core is just a blackened pit. There is something left though:

A strange nail that's embedded in the core, which lets off a mysterious blue aura. It is all that is left of this destroyed world.

Genre: Crossover AU(Honkai Star Rail & Genshin Impact), Horror, Science fiction, mystery

Words: 1.8k

All parts available on AO3 now!

CELESTIAL CURIO mini-series

Read the first part below!

tags: @echarie @truegoist @lizzieonka @swoland @blonde-batgirl @go-rocksquadsfan @oo-mi-ru-oo @reomikagekin @venusbby @ventivente @rinqoumaa @katasstrophy @kazurha

Himeko sat idly by on the plush, leather red coach seats of the Express and watched Pompom idle their way down the line to make sure everyone was seated properly this time. She chuckled as Pompom tried, and failed yet again, to convince March to sit with the rest of them. Welt leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes, a nap close at hand any moment now. Dan Heng had busied himself elsewhere, Himeko and the others never saw him when the Express jumped worlds. And the Trailblazer they’d picked up not long ago was entertaining March’s antics.

“Ah, they’ve all certainly gotten along now, haven’t they?” She commented to Welt, who just nodded.

Pompom gave one final warning for the Express’s take off. “ Attention all passengers, please hold on! The Astral Express is about to warp!” They called out loud. Himeko decided to lean back into the seat, mimicking Welt. The jumps never took long, though they could be disorienting for those still new to it. She glanced at the Trailblazer with slight amusement, they had a sick look on their face as the Express jumped to the next world. They’ll get used to it…with time, she thought with a smirk.

“This next world is quite an old one, though I’ve heard many amazing stories about it.” Himeko explained as everyone had gathered once more in the main hall. Dan Heng materialized from his room the moment the Express had stopped. He was the more serious out of the trio, and proved it as he asked the most questions about this new world they’d approached.

“What’s it called? I…can’t seem to see it outside any of the windows.” He said as he craned his head a little. March leaned against one of the large windows, her face almost pressed to it.

“Oh! Dan’s right, there’s…just space? Are you guys sure we’re at the right spot?” March roved all over the window in various places as if she could better see the planet from a different angle. The Trailblazer casually turned their head to look behind them as well, and just shrugged with a raised eyebrow at Himeko.

“I don’t see anything either…” they commented. Himeko wasn’t too alarmed at this, sometimes it was common for Pompom to dock farther from the planet than was necessary.

“This world is known as Teyvat. Or at least that’s the oldest name the records had kept.” Welt said. “It’s an ancient world that has a long, long history of war and ruin. But in later years, all that quieted down…at least, it should have.” He worriedly stood up just then. “I…feel as if something is wrong. Perhaps I shall find Pompom, and they can explain.”

“No need to go anywhere, Pompom’s right here!” Pompom entered the hall with a clouded expression on their face. They waddled excitedly, before stopping in front of the group. Anxiety seemed to waft off of them in waves. “There’s a big, big problem! Pompom doesn’t think anyone will be disembarking today…The whole world is gone!”

Himeko shook her head in disbelief as the others voiced their confusion. “What? That’s impossible, I made sure we were tracking the planet’s core. It can’t just be… gone.” Otherwise…what was the Express using to find its way here? She looked up at Welt, “Are the records on Teyvat still available? I was certain they were up to date to at least 50 years prior…an entire world can’t just disappear…are we perhaps, lost? ”

“B-but it’s true! Pompom wouldn’t lie about anything, especially not this!” the tiny conductor exclaimed. “Come see for yourselves!” They waddled away, and the group got up as they were led to the front of the Express. There, at the head of the train, in plain view was…not exactly a world, but clearly the remnants of one long gone. Chunks of what was weathered down rock floated idly in space. They weren’t normal rocks, but planetary sized. Big enough for the shape of what was once a planet to be seen if you pieced them all together in your mind.

Himeko gasped in horror, her voice lost completely. This was the first time they’d ever truly come across a world that was destroyed beyond all recognition. It was worse than when they’d landed on Jarilo VI and found it covered in ice instead of lush fauna. At least then there was still land to stand on…people who lived in such a harsh environment. She couldn’t fathom anyone living on debris. She struggled to find words to speak, and noticed with clarity that nobody else in the group knew what to say either.

“What did this…?” March asked in a hushed tone.

Welt had gone startlingly pale as he looked out the front of the train, “This is impossible…this doesn’t match what the data reports-” He stopped then, and took a deep breath. “Could something so terrible as to cause this really.. happen in such a short amount of time?” It was unheard of in this day and age. What was before them was a story that only existed in the past, when Aeons would dwarf and snuff out the light of worlds in an instant. This certainly didn’t look like the destruction of an Aeon.

“Could a Stellaron have caused this?” Dan Heng suggested. Himeko shook her head.

“While Stellarons are known for being harmful to worlds all over…I’ve never known one to be capable of this.” She shuddered. “Stellarons aren’t able to… rend a world apart, and make it into debris. Whatever happened here, happened because of violent brute force.”

“Well…Welt did say this place was rife with war and violence. Maybe this is the cause of a war?” The Trailblazer spoke up with a blanched face. Clearly seeing a destroyed planet hadn’t done anything good for their already sickly disposition from the warp. “In any case…are we going to stick around?”

“I would say no…but I am a bit curious about this destroyed world.” Himeko said. “The Express usually tracks large universal bodies from their core, since they produce enough energy to show up on the radar. It’s also how we’re able to receive accurate geographical data on the planet without having to be on it, and millions of light years away. However…the Express still led us here, despite Teyvat being gone.”

Welt placed a hand on his chin, “There’s no way the core could still be intact, it would be rubble along with the rest of the world…meaning, there’s something that’s still there, drawing the Express towards it. Something without power that it registers as a universal body.” He looked down at the conductor. “Pompom, can you send anything down there to get a closer look, maybe?”

Pompom nodded eagerly, “Of course, of course! The Astral Express is always prepared even for moments like this! Pompom will prepare the Star rovers immediately.”

“Star Rovers?” The Trailblazer asked.

“Star Rovers are bots built to handle harsh exploration among the stars. I’ve seen them before, though I had no idea the Express had their own…” Dan Heng answered. “They usually come equipped with a camera that’s able to handle all sorts of environments. I don’t know about getting close to an exposed core, though.” He watched skeptically as Pompom headed for the control terminal.

They waited with bated breath as time passed. It seemed the Star Rovers were only able to cover a certain amount of ground before it had to report back. It took about a day and a half for them to return with photographic information.

However, the photos did nothing to alleviate the crew’s worries. It just added onto their confusion. The Star Rovers had gotten as close as they could to the middle of the debris, before having to return due to a high amount of adverse energy that was corroding away its circuitry. It did manage to snap a few photos despite the danger.

“Is that some kind of… nail?” March squinted at the picture. In the very middle, floating pristinely amongst the debris and rubble, was a large elongated sharp object that had elegant curves and decorative work etched into its side. It ended in a point, and had a flat head much like that of a nail. It radiated a faint blue aura that was unusual for the very, gray and dull looking rocks that were next to it.

“I think this is what the Express was tracking…it’s even radiating some strange aura.” Welt pushed his glasses up as he studied the photos closely. “I’m not sure what this is…we should tell Madame Herta about what we found, at least.”

Himeko nodded, “You’re right. She’ll be interested in this. And maybe she’ll even know what it is.” And so, Himeko gathered the photos and quickly sent them over to the Herta Space Station. Pompom left for the control terminal to warp away, they seemed anxious about having to stay any longer around the destroyed world. Himeko didn’t like the look of the strange object, and the other crew members quickly busied themselves with other chores to get their mind off of what they had seen.

Welt even retired to the archives for the night, and Himeko could tell his mind was still racing with the image of Teyvat in ruins. She sighed, and decided she’d also head to bed for the night. Herta would be a buzz with questions for her tomorrow about the destroyed world, and the strange nail in its core. As she got up to leave the main hall, she decided she’d refrain from thinking about it for the rest of the night.

“Well it’s certainly an astrological marvel, that’s for certain…” Herta murmured as she looked over the photos that Himeko had sent her. She had never seen anything like it in all her years of travel, and she was even less familiar with the world “Teyvat”. When she got the message from Himeko, and she set her eyes upon the nail, she almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Asta studied the photos next to her, her eyes widened as she fully took them in.

“Oh my stars…how could something so tiny cause such…such destruction?” Asta asked.

Herta shrugged, placing the photos down on her desk. “Not sure…but I do know one thing, and that’s that I want it in my collection.” her face split into a slow smirk. “I just have to figure out how to get it over here, what I need to contain it…something of this caliber can’t just be left to drift forever, certainly not after I’ve laid my eyes on it for the first time. I want to run many experiments on it, for sure!”

Asta looked at Herta incredulously. “But Madame Herta, this thing is huge! I don’t think it could possibly fit in the space station…” She said warily.

“I have my ways, don’t worry Miss Asta. The Space Station is the perfect place to keep such an artifact.” Herta said smugly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…I have plans to make an excursion out towards that part of space. I’ll ask Himeko for directions.”

#hsr dan heng #hsr himeko #hsr march 7th #honkai star rail #hsr fic #genshin impact #genshin writing #genshin fic #crossover #alternate universe

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geometricalien · 7 months

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AkaFuri AU w/ the plot of "Cherry Magic!"

Furihata is Adachi - an average, plain-looking office worker who gains the ability to hear people's thoughts after remaining a virgin for 30 years.

Akashi is Kurosawa - the most handsome, popular guy at his office who's well-liked by his colleagues...and he also happens to harbor a romantic crush on Furihata for a long, long time.

I never heard of this bl before but I've been reading the manga since and it's fantastic! (Apparently an anime adaptation is coming soon too!!) And it is so so akafuri coded

Furi and Adachi both being introvert types, quiet, kind, observant (although the observant thing is amplified considerably by him being able to read their thoughts). Akashi and Kurosawa both being "perfect popular guys" with a different closeted world far from that perception.

The entire time I was reading the manga I kept thinking back to this ask like, okay now they are in this shogo situation, Akashi is constantly thinking about how cute Furihata is, he's dreaming about their possible future together, there is all these mixed signals, their first date he is so nervous to make it the perfect date- he buys a $200 rose bouquet and arranges a helicopter tour over the city, he has their rings already bought- its all so akafuri coded!

But alas... the urge to insert fanon/canon is strong. It's hard to imagine an office au with Akashi Seijuurou without him being An Akashi. I'm not saying every fic or office au needs Akashi to be a big wig at daddy's company- I've enjoyed plenty of fics where he isn't. What I am saying is that the familiar tropes are calling me.

Kurosawa's main problem is that people sometimes only see him for his handsome face and the persona of "cool popular guy". Akashi's main problem is that he is an Akashi and how that affects how people see him and how his upbringing affects the way he interacts with the world. So an akafuri au makes more sense if Akashi's problems in the company are how everyone around him will always have the presumption that he is a nepo baby (which he is) but he is also damn good at his job and he feels the need to constantly put in the extra effort, the long hours, to get across that this is serious to him.

That all said, we will shift from the "we entered the company at the same time and have been colleagues for 5/6 years at the same department" to "Akashi began his circuit of the various departments at the same time that Furihata joined, spending a year at each department at an entry level position to see how every section works in application, and now he is going to be doing the circuit again but at a managerial/presidential position in each department so he gets a feel for the overview, such that in his late thirties he will have had experience in each department- both in the thick grunt work and eagle eye supervising- and finally he will work with his father in the executive offices training and be in the process to hand over the company when Akashi is in his fourties."

Yes very complicated, very drawn out plan. But I think this actually makes a lot of sense to me. Masaomi is a fine detail guy, he is going to raise Akashi in the same way. And when it comes to the thing that he has devoted his life to, I think Masaomi would want Akashi to understand and value the departments, the people, the history from the ground up. (I know its popular fanon that Akashi has been reviewing company documents from the time he was in high school/college- think this type of executive grunt work or internship (if you can call it that) would continue throughout his tours of the departments- we all know how over worked Akashi is, you think that will stop when he gets to the family company?? fjdskalfj)

I imagine that during their first year at the company something similar happens at a dinner with clients where Akashi takes Furihata's drink he doesn't want to drink and turns down one of the clients hanging on his arm. Akashi gets a bit too tipsy and ends up needing air and rests his head on Furihata's lap,

"Sorry, this is quite unprofessional of me."

Furihata laughs. "Maybe, but it's refreshing. You always seem so put together and serious. I forget we're the same age."

"Mmm." Akashi hums not sure what to say.

But Furihata continues on. "You work twice as hard as us and you stay behind most days of the week even when you don't have to. It's kinda scary, I sometimes wonder if you'll burn yourself out. Then I come in the next day and you're still smiling, greeting everyone. It's amazing. You're a hard worker, Akashi-san. But I really like this other side of you."

"... Thank you, Furihata-san."

And in the following weeks Akashi keeps an eye on Furihata, aware of a fluttering in his heart whenever they catch eyes. Then he has to switch departments. In the coming years he is watches the people coming into work, trying to look for Furihata and maybe exchange smiles or a word or two. But it's never enough for him. Yet, he has a job to do.

Years later with minimal interactions between them in the mornings or during company holiday events, Akashi is moved back to Furihata's department as a vice president. Furihata, for his part, has been promoted to team lead and is considered an integral part of the department. They work in close association and all seems normal.

Until Furihata's 30th birthday agshjdkd

I might mull on this a bit longer and mayyybbeee something may come out of it

#ask box #akafuri #cherry magic au!#anon ask #knb #idk man the brain is thinking and shes thinking hard about this

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avaritia-apotheosis · 11 months

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Phantom Children: Redux | IV. No Rest for the Weary

A DPxDC crossover // Read on [AO3} or [FFN.net]

← Previous Chapter // MASTERPOST // Next Chapter →

Present Day…

Batman made plans to visit Belle Reve Penitentiary before the week was over. The entire facility was made out of thick, gray, stone dotted by uniform windows. It stood above the waters of a murky swamp, the edges of the property enclosed by high wire fences.

There were about half a dozen security protocols that needed to be done to gain access to Belle Reve’s inner sanctum. Each layer and set of equipment installed and updated by various construction teams to insure that no single entity could compromise the Penitentiary’s—and thus Task Force X’s—security.

Batman, as he was wont to do, bypassed all of it.

He deposited himself in Amanda Waller’s office. It would have been a spacious room had it not been crowded with rows of filing cabinets. A healthy dose of paranoia made Waller careful to store any truly critical information in digital form, where it can be hacked by some malicious force or given access to by some particularly helpful person. The sorting system, from what Batman could see at first glance, forwent the standard A-Z categories for something else. Probably something that only Waller could understand.

A desk sat in the middle with a comfortable rolling chair behind it and a dual-monitor on top. Behind it was a wide window that overlooked the midnight Terrebonne Parish skyline.

He did not, however, have the time to appreciate the view as Amanda Waller finally stepped into her office.

She was a stout woman with a stern expression, dressed sensibly in a dark, mauve blazer, a white blouse, pearls, and a long, black skirt. A file-folder was tucked beneath one arm. The second she saw him, Waller paused, cocking her hip to one side and free hand tucked into her blazer pocket.

“Batman,” she said, nonplussed. “What brings you here?”

“Information…On a prisoner of yours.”

Waller took a seat behind her desk, setting her folder aside. “As far as I recall, Belle Reve isn’t currently housing any of your rogues. The last one was transferred over to Arkham a few months ago.”

He threw a printed article onto her desk. A small little piece from the Terrebonne Times, more a notice than actual news with what little information it held. The headline was emblazoned on the top:

DEATH AT BELLE REVE

Inmate Dies Under Mysterious Circumstances;Foul Play Suspected

Waller glanced at the article then looked back up at Batman, brow raised. “A little late to be investigating this, don’t you think? The event in question happened six months ago.”

“I need access to Frederick Isaak Showenhower’s cell.”

“Hm. I’m surprised you’re actually asking.”

Batman remained silent.

“Well.” Waller steepled her fingers together. “I suppose we could come to an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” Batman snorts. “Sure. You give me access to the cell and I won’t tell your superiors that Showenhower—a regular human kept in a meta prison—didn’t die from some dispute between inmates, but from some outside force breaching Belle Reve’s ‘impenetrable’ security. You don’t hold any cards here, Waller.”

“Oh really? If I didn’t, I would have expected you to just waltz into the cell yourself without telling anyone.”

“I hold some respect for you, Waller. That’s the only reason why I’m asking.”

Waller made a pinched, sour face. With a huff, she got up from her desk and led Batman through the winding corridors of Belle Reve to Showenhower’s cell.

“What do you know about Freakshow, Batman?”

“Thirty years old, male, Caucasian, and possibly born with albinism. A bank and jewelry store robber who disguises his hits with a traveling circus show. He has connections with the occult and used it to commit his robberies. APISA apprehended him in St. Augustine, Florida, a little over a year ago.”

Waller laughed. “The GIW’s first and last hurrah.”

The Ghost Investigation Ward—or the Guys in White as it was jokingly referred to—was a fairly new and now defunct branch of the Agency of Paranormal Investigation and Spectral Affairs, focused on the research and apprehension of ectoplasmic entities known as ‘ghosts’. Their less than stellar track record made them the joke of not only APISA but the entirety of Task Force X, instilling within the ward’s few members a tight-knit camaraderie and an almost terrifying level of dedication towards their mission. They were more zealots than government agents. Coupled with their incompetence and their high collateral damage, the group was forced to disband.

“Occultism aside,” Batman said, “small time human thieves aren’t usually the kind of criminals Task Force X would be interested in.”

“You’d be right. APISA and the GIW’s interest lay not with Freakshow, specifically, but with his family. The Showenhowers’ research in the occult and supernatural go back centuries. They’re a veritable treasure trove of information, and as of three years ago, they’re also the only expert on ghosts left.”

He blinked. “Ghosts.”

“Ghosts.” Waller echoed. “Though not exactly the kind that you’re thinking of, but that is what these creatures have been calling themselves. As far as our researchers can tell, these ‘ghosts’ are inhabitants of a dimension tied very closely with our own.”

Suddenly, a spark. A memory. Information clicked into place.. “You learned of Freakshow in Amity Park.”

Waller neither confirmed or denied it.

It made sense, in a way. Though thought of as little more than a tourist trap, Amity Park had gained the reputation of being the most haunted city in America. Though no substantial proof ever made it outside of the city besides extremely blurry shots of light and grainy footage of streaks in the sky, the Justice League knew better than to dismiss the threats, if only because JL-Dark marked the city in the League’s main database with a heavy ‘ DO NOT INTERACT ’ warning for humans and metas alike. The exact situation in Amity Park was never explicitly laid out for the League other than that it was contained and handled and that the League should not, under any circumstances, interfere.

Though for good measure, Constantine saw it fit to bold, underline, italicize, and capitalize the DNI. Most heroes since then have taken to simply going around the city—even going so far as to avoid its air space.

“Well, here we are.”

Showenhower’s cell was located on the highest floor of the penitentiary, at the very end of the hallway and isolated from every other prisoner. Despite it being six months since the incident, all of the cells in this particular hallway were left unoccupied.

The inside of Showenhower’s cell, however, was far from empty. Frost covered the room from floor to ceiling, dropping the temperature by a few degrees. Large stalactites of ice hung down from the ceiling, patches of ice covered every corner and crept up the walls like vines.

“This is where he died,” Batman stated, breath coming out in white mists.

“Right over there.” Waller pointed at the single bed pushed towards the right side of the room. A frozen mattress on top of a rectangular dias that jutted out of the wall and had no space beneath it. “It was a strange thing. One moment Freakshow was sitting on the bed and staring at the wall. The next? He slammed his hand against the wall, froze the whole damn room over, and dropped dead.”

◆◆◆

Pause. Rewind. Play.

The door to the cell slid open and Freakshow walked in. He stood in the middle, surveyed the entire room, before his gaze stopped at the camera discreetly placed in the corner of the ceiling. He blinked, lowered his head, then went to sit down on his bed. Directly across from him was a mirror.

Ten minutes passed in relative silence. Freakshow just sits, tapping his foot. Tilted his head here and there. Scratched the back of his neck. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then— He froze, shoulders stiffened. For a brief moment, a wide grin stretched across his face before it’s pushed back into a stony expression. Freakshow slammed his hand against the wall, ice burst from his palms, and he dropped dead.

Pause.

Rewind.

It had been days since Batman visited Belle Reve. Bruce made little progress in solving the case. It did not help, of course, that there were other things that demanded his attention: a JL founders meeting concerning the admission of new heroes; the rumored reappearance of some stolen tech from Task Force X circulating the black market; his presentation for an upcoming fundraiser for the Wayne Foundation; his regular duties as batman and as CEO of Wayne Enterprises…The list was endless.

Play.

Thank goodness for Tim. His son had a good head on his shoulders and amazing intuition. Though as much as Tim had been arguing with Damian as to who got to accompany him on certain excursions, Bruce could see that Tim was just itching to go off on his own. To spread his own wings.

Reluctant as Bruce was to let any of his Robins fly out from under him…at this point, he’d like to think he had enough experience to know that his children would grow up with or without his consent. Bruce had spent the last year easing up on Tim’s restrictions—much to Damian’s envy. More solo patrols, more casework, a greater degree of decision in his own missions, etcetera. Bruce even let Tim take the lead in the stolen tech case, only stating that he reports any and all findings to Batman and to not engage dangerous enemies alone if able.

Bruce tapped a sharp rhythm on the desk, willing his attention back to the task at hand.

Ice covered the room. Freakshow slumped down, dead. Pause.

Rewind.

He played the video from the beginning once more, fingers steepled as he watched the proceedings.

An ordinary man with no powers at all walks into a heavily fortified prison cell, sits down on his bed, shoots ice from his hands, and dies. No one entered the room with him, and the door remained locked up until security came barreling through the doors a few minutes after he died.

Freakshow sat down, foot tapping loudly—

Pause.

Freakshow’s character profile described him as someone who was very deliberate with his movements. A trait possibly learned from years as a showman. What few footage Bruce managed to scrounge up from Circus Gothica’s shows displayed a ringmaster with a mastery over his own body, each gesture practiced and perfected for maximum effect. What videos there were of Freakshow when he was not addressing the audience—or the dozens of recordings of his stay in Belle Reve— saw a man who stood with uncanny stillness. Hands clasped behind his back, head tilted to the side just so.

Certainly not a man prone to fidgeting and tapping his foot.

Rewind.

Play.

Freakshow sat down across from the mirror, back to the camera, foot tapping loudly. The sound of it reverberating loudly in his tiny cell. He tilted his head, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. How did he miss it before? He zoomed in on the mirror, enhancing as much of the image quality as possible. Freakshow was talking . The words were too inaudible for the camera to pick-up, and his mouth’s movement was too subtle, too quick to be read.

“He knew his murderer was in the room with him,” Bruce mumbled.

“Father?”

Bruce looked over his shoulder. “Ah, Damian.” He rotated his chair to face his son. “What can I do for you?”

“Pennyworth asked me to inform you that dinner would be ready soon.” Damian’s eyes flicked over to the video footage. “Any progress with the assassin?”

“Perhaps.” He beckoned Damian closer to the monitor, replaying the video for him and explaining his own thought process. “Here, pay special attention to the mirror. It’s subtle, but you can clearly see Freakshow speaking— presumably to someone else in the room. Notes on his file indicate that he’s not prone to talking to himself or mumbling his thoughts aloud. Coupled with the uncharacteristic fidgeting—an action that causes enough noise that it masks his mumbling—we can also presume that this conversation contains sensitive topics, ones he wants to hide

“I briefly considered some kind of magic to be at work because of his connections with the occult but disregarded it quickly. Not only is a suicide spell out of character for Freakshow—and also shown no prior attempts to it or any signs of thinking about suicide—but the display of cryokinesis doesn’t fit into the larger picture. And while Freakshow was noted to use magic, he does not possess an innate talent for it like Zatanna. According to Waller, Freakshow’s magic is more in line with alchemy, and his cell was swept every time he leaves it for any contraband or suspicious items.”

He paused the footage and rewound it to when Freakshow sat down in front of the mirror. “So, we can presume that he was talking to the culprit meaning three things.” He held up his index finger. “The first is that his murderer was in the cell with him but managed to remain unseen, perhaps because of some new cloaking technology, though it’s more likely that invisibility of some sort is part of their meta-ability.” He raised another finger. “The second is that Freakshow could sense the presence of the culprit and has enough of a relationship with them to hold a seemingly civil conversation. And the third—” he held up a third finger then curled his hand into a fist— “Freakshow was unable to call for help. Why?

“He was overshadowed.”

Bruce snapped his head to Damian. The words were quiet, so quiet in fact he nearly missed them.

“What did you say?”

Damian clamped his mouth shut, eyes widening imperceptibly as if he, too, was shocked to have said it out loud. Quickly he smoothed his face, features receding into an impassive stare as he took a step back from the monitor.

Bruce decided to press further. “Damian.”

Damian pursed his lips, eyebrows pinched in such a way to indicate that he was deliberating something. “It’s…” He trailed. “How much do you believe in ghosts?”

If someone had asked that question to Bruce when he was sixteen, ten, or even seven years old, he would have answered with a resounding no. Ghosts—restless spirits, monsters, things that go bump in the night—were all mere figments of imagination. Now, however, having lived in the time of gods and superheroes, intergalactic politics, and magic …

“I believe enough.” He tilted his head, a piece of some unknown puzzle slowly making itself known. “You are referring to Amity Park’s breed of ghosts.”

Damian gave a curt nod. “Grandfather was always trying to learn more about the Lazarus Pit. He had some assets—scientists—within Amity Park tasked to do just that. Of course once these ghosts began to appear, grandfather was immediately informed,” he explained. “From what I’ve learned, overshadowing is some kind of possession, it’s an ability that all of Amity’s ghosts can utilize.”

“So you believe Freakshow was overshadowed by one of these ghosts.” The explanation, for lack of another, worked. The lack of any physical evidence, no forced entry or exit—all evidence that could be explained away by ‘the ghost was invisible,’ as much as it irked Bruce to say. Freakshow’s connections with the occult only strengthened the theory.

According to the penitentiary’s blueprints, Freakshow’s cell was lined with a special type of metal composed of ectoranium—a rare mineral with anti-ghost properties. A preventative measure in case Freakshow’s partner, Lydia, or any other ghost tried to help him escape. It should have been impossible for any ghost to phase their way into the prison.

Unless the ghost walked in with Freakshow.

“The eyes give it a way. Look—” Damian reached over to rewind the footage, pausing it at a specific moment. “—His eyes are normal here.” He points at Freakshow’s irises, dark gray due to the grayscale footage of the CCTV, plays the video, and then pauses it again a few seconds later. “But if you look at his eyes now, you can see the faint indication of a glow around his eyes. The color value of the irises are lighter, too. One of the biggest tells if someone is being overshadowed by a ghost is the glow and the change in eye color. “

Another review through the footage revealed that Freakshow’s eyes changed multiple times, often reverting back to his original eye color when he was speaking, and then changing when he was silent.

Bruce grunted, fingers drumming a steady staccato on the arm of his chair, head leaning on his knuckles. Their culprit was a ghost. That information certainly changed things. Not only was Bruce’s suspect list now wiped clean and placed Freakshow’s murder as the lynchpin of their case, there was also the worrying implication that the League of Shadows held command over an extradimensional being whose powerset he was not familiar with.

He glanced up at Damian. “What else do you know about ghosts?”

Damian shrugged. “Not as much as I’d like. Grandfather didn’t share much with me.”

“Hm.” He rose from his seat and set a hand on Damian’s shoulders with a light smile. “You head up first. I’m sure Alfred needs help setting the table.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll head up after you. There’s still one last thing I need to do.”

Damian raised an imperious eyebrow before ducking his head and heading to the elevator. Bruce watched his son’s retreating back, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth downturned.

Damian was hiding something.

◆◆◆

Beneath the eerie, grim torchlight, Plasmius observed the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. It stood, looming above a raised dais where a throne might have been, once. Beneath it on each side were two pedestals encased in glass, protecting the two most powerful artifacts of the Infinite Realms.

The glass cases were a mere formality, however. No one would steal either of the artifacts. To take only one of them would render the artifact useless as only with the ring and crown combined could the awesome power of the Infinite Realms be harnessed. Taking both would be an even riskier gamble. The crown and ring would only deign to bestow its powers on those it deems worthy. Strong. If the wearer did not suit, then the artifacts would eviscerate them before they could even blink.

It was strange to think that Pariah Dark’s awakening would be the felix culpa that saved Plasmius from his own demise.

Plasmius was prideful and vain in nature, but even he was self-aware enough to realize that the artifacts would only accept those equal or greater in power to Pariah Dark— and Vlad was simply not that. Even the Ancients, powerful as they were and the original victors against the old king, were not considered worthy. The only one who might have come close was young Daniel.

‘Close’ being the key word here.

It was unfortunate that the boy never stayed long enough to grow into his powers. If he did, he might have become someone powerful. Someone worthy. A king. (Only if it was under Vlad’s terms after all. A child monarch was never without an older and wiser regent at their shoulder. Taking Phantom under his own tutelage would be a worthless endeavor if Vlad could not come out on top).

Instead Daniel ran away, squirreled himself into a hovel so deep that neither of Vlad’s ghostly nor mortal resources could dig him up. (Yes, Daniel ran away. Was missing. No matter what forensics or the police or his own private investigators tried to say, that mauled and burned body placed beside the Fenton memorial was not Daniel James Fenton. The boy was still alive. It was only a matter of where.)

The sarcophagus shuddered.

Plasmius lifted his gaze to the death mask of Pariah Dark. “It is weakening,” he said, voice reverberating across the near empty throne room. He pivoted on his heel, a sardonic grin on his face as he faced Fright Knight. “Should we prepare for His Majesty to awaken any time soon?

Fright Knight cut an imposing figure in the torch light. “No.” Plasmius could not tell if the ghost was disappointed or relieved. “The sarcophagus holds strong still. In a year or in a decade, my king may wake once more, but that time is not today. For now, he rests in a fitful sleep.”

“A year or ten…how comforting.” Plasmius rolled his eyes. “What brings you here, then?”

“It is the duty of a knight to protect his liege lord against all things.”

“Oh don’t go pretending you’re a loyal knight now. Not when you betrayed your lord the last time.”

Fright Knight narrowed his eyes, then gave a derisive snort. “No, I suppose not. If you must know, half-breed, I was summoned by my creator, and regardless of my own desires I am obliged to answer the call.”

“Your creator— Pariah?”

Fright Knight shook his head.

“Then who—?” He turned to look at the dais again. At the sarcophagus. At the crown of fire and the ring of rage emitting a preternatural glow.

Ah. That explained it.

Of the many paradoxes there were in the world, Vlad’s favorite one concerned the nature of Omnipotence. There were many versions of the Omnipotence Paradox, but the most well known one went like this: could god create a stone so heavy that he could not lift it? While there were many answers to the question and many conflicting ideas, Vlad favored the notion that an omnipotent being could do absolutely anything it desires except that which compromises its own omnipotence. If god is essentially omnipotent, then he cannot make a stone that he cannot lift, for that would mean making a stone that is equal in power to god.

Vlad often wondered why Fright Knight never attempted to seize the sovereign’s artifacts for himself, what with his predilection for ruling. Though bestowed with the title of knight , anyone could see that Fright Knight's true desire was rulership. Dominion . A desire that he could never satiate. The closest he could ever come to it was to serve and stand close to power.

Apparently it was not because Fright Knight didn’t want the artifacts, but because he was, by nature, incapable of wielding them. The artifacts cannot create something stronger than themselves, and they refuse to be worn by anything it perceived as lesser than them.

“My, my,” Plasmius laughed. “It must have absolutely burned you to bend the knee to Pariah Dark.”

The fiery plume on his helmet flared dangerously bright as Fright Knight let out an inhuman growl. “Watch your tongue before I relieve you of it.”

Plasmius held up his hands in mock-surrender. “So, why did your creator call you to Pariah’s Keep?”

Fright Knight paused, intrigued. “Can you not hear it?" He asked. "They are singing.”

Vlad strained his ears, but he heard nothing. Just the echoey silence of the throne room and the flickering of torchlights and Fright Knight’s armor.

If Fright Knight had a mouth, he would smirk. “No, you cannot, can you? Someone of your ilk is not privileged enough to hear their song. But I suppose there’s enough of a ghost in you that you can feel the artifacts’ call even if you cannot hear it.” He quiets, head inclined just so as if he were listening to the song right now. As if the artifacts were speaking to him. “They are in mourning.”

“What would they even be mourning about?”

“A lack of purpose,” he said. “For what is the worth of a tool if nobody uses it?”

Vlad frowned. So they are the reason why the Ghost Zone has been so agitated recently. Like Eris and the golden apple of discord, the artifacts have thrown their song all across the Infinite Realms, proclaiming to everyone to prove their worth, to prove their strength. Even Pariah Dark, trapped in his slumber, cannot resist the call.

Even Plasmius, who was deaf to its song, was drawn to this place.

Plasmius rubbed his hand across his face. “It will tear the Infinite Realms apart just to find someone strong enough to wield it.”

“Perhaps,” said Fright Knight. “You cannot hide your portal forever. It will be found, mark my words.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning, Plasmius. If you wish to preserve what modicum of peace you have in the material world, then you would do well to close the portal and destroy it.”

Plasmius’ face curled into a snarl. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Then you invite your own folly.” With a dramatic flourish of his cloak, violet flames licking at the cobbled floor, Fright Knight leveled the Soul Shredder between Plasmius’ eyes. “Challengers will seek out the Uncrowned to prove their mettle, collateral damage be damned. They will find him, or he will find them."

“Will you be one of them, then? A challenger?”

Fright Knight stilled, anger simmering just above his armor. “Mocking me, are you? No, a challenger I am not. My grand purpose in this world is to guard my creators, bestow them to and swear my oaths to my future liege lord, whoever that may be.”

With those parting words, Fright Knight flew off, taking his post at the entrance of the keep, leaving Plasmius alone in the presence of the ring and crown. To bear their heavy gaze.

(Something within him, something that he once thought controlled, thought leashed to his will, reared its head. Want , it said. Want-have-mine. It gnawed at the back of his mind like a starving rat chewing on the bars of its cage. Want-have-mine-want-prove-prove-worthy.)

Vlad squashed that voice with a grimace. He was the one in control, not his ghost. He was stronger than such baser instincts.

(Prove-worthy-power)

Danielle had been working far too hard lately, and as a result she’s been in and out of the portal more times than Plasmius would prefer. It was attracting too much attention. Perhaps a quick vacation was in order.

Besides, it wouldn’t do to reject an invitation from Bruce Wayne himself now, would it?

#dpxdc #phantom children: redux #my writing

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