#i was working on writing for the confession prompt but the story wasn't feeling it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchimasnake-sss · 1 month

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i love from me to you sm! 😭 like it aimed directly to my heart 😭 you're so good at writing stuff so, here i am asking for a zoro!fic where reader hides that she got wounded during their last battle and zoro founds out and our poor moss head thought reader was gonna die so, he confessed (i just love flustered zoro) 😚 n e ways, continue writing the best stories!! lotsoflove! - glasses of nanamin

i feel like this is your second ask cause of the "n e ways" but lol, eitherways that's such a cute concept!! i would love love love this (i tweaked the prompt a little bit to fit it better, but i hope you like it it still)

got me losin' my cool ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: as anon asked!! you get hurt during a fight and zoro almost has a mental breakdown haha live, laugh, love <3

warning: a bit of angst, zoro is a dumbass. otherwise, wholesome!

roronoa zoro's feet pound against the earth and he was sure that with every leap he took, his heart sunk further under. his fingers were clammy. so very clammy against your soft skin. and he was sure the sweat dripping off his forehead and dropping onto your bloodied tank top was the last thing you wanted to see before you died.

"zo—" you rasped helplessly and your voice felt like graters against his skin. your chapped lips, almost closed eyes, the wound on your stomach and your week, blood-stained hand on it. he couldn't even bear to look at you without wanting to breakdown.

"stop talkin, please." he clenched his jaw tighter, the sound of teeth against teeth jarring. and although he refused to look down at you, cradled carefully in his arms, he could hear the desperate heaves that rocked your body.

he picked up the pace, ducking under hanging vines and leaping over overgrown roots of ancient trees carefully, so, as to not hurt you. the ship should be two minutes away, docked at the edge of the island and chopper must be there. and chopper would know what to do. how to help you.

zoro had to just deliver you to chopper.

but with his poor geographical skills, he felt like he had been running for the past thirty minutes without finding the ship. and he was certain the ship was docked only 10 minutes away from where the fight was taking place between the strawhat crew and a local pirate crew.

"zoro—" you started again.

why were you speaking? DID YOU WANT TO DIE?

"—don't use up your breath. please." he panted, feet still working to find the ship. where was that goddamn ship?

"that side—" you winced as you pointed your arm in the opposite direction. you coughed, wincing again before whispering, "the sunny."

zoro's head whipped around to look behind him. and at once, he changed the course. running as fast as he could, he soon found himself at the rocky beach the ship had been docked at.

"CHOPPER!" the swordsman bellowed for the mini doctor as he climbed up the ship. the reindeer was peering over the deck and when he looked at your nearly passed-out figure, he yelped in surprise.

"she got stabbed." zoro explained as he carried you inside to chopper's makeshift office/operation theater. laying you down gently, they both looked guilty as you groaned and clutched your own hand on the wound tighter.

"i need to apply some anti-septic, clean the wound and stitch it up." chopper stated, eerily calm in the heat of the moment. "here—" he gave zoro a sterilized cloth from his cupboard, "—apply it to her wound. put pressure on the area, i need to go make the anti-septic really quick."

"you have to make it? how long will that take?" if the swordman wasn't scared out of his wits, he would be surprised at how desperate he sounded.

"five minutes."

zoro looked at the reindeer wide-eyed. but the reindeer ran off, presumably to make the said medicine.

he looked back at you, putting the cloth to the wound and gently pushing down. he knew how to make the bleeding stop, he had done this multiple time. what he hadn't done multiple times was see you so lifeless, so incredibly overtaken by pain.

"hey." he found himself saying softly. softer than he had ever spoken before, "hey, can you look at me? hear me?"

you nodded slowly and relief washed over him. atleast you hadn't lost all cognitive senses.

"just focus on my voice, okay?" he knelt down so that he was on your eye-level from the bed. his other hand gingerly took ahold of yours. mindlessly, he rubbed soothing circles on your skin. he repeated, "just focus on my voice. yeah, close your eyes. i'm here okay?"

you found yourself closing your eyes, relying solely on the darkness of your eyelids and his voice to guide you to safety. his hand felt like a familiar weight against your stomach, the kind of touch that will renew a dead man and get him climbing back from his grave. his voice was sweet, too sweet to be even called his.

"i—" he paused, rubbing your skin with the pad of his thumb, "chopper's gonna fix you up, you know. h-he always does. i mean you're stronger than this. you'd survive, right?"

he's not sure if he meant to ask it as a question. he was sure he had said it to sound reassuring. but somewhere in between him uttering the words and you hearing them, they had turned into a desperate, desolate plea.

your chest fluttered underneath him, your breath strained. the face he adored slowly scrunched up from the pain. and he found himself talking even more.

"focus on me, okay? just me." he steeled his voice. and his nerves. "you'd be okay. you know, you always said you'd make me mochi, you never did. you said you'd make sake flavoured mochi. is that even a thing?" he laughed despite himself. it was barely a laugh. a pitiful scoff maybe? it was not the kind of laugh that would fool you.

"uh— once you get better." he pretended to ignore the way your body seemed to go slack under him. he repeated, "once you get better, i'm gonna convince franky to make us fireworks. you love those. and- and nami. i'd convince that money-hungry witch to lend me some money so that i can take you out. we will go shopping. you always said you—"

why were you so awfully quiet? usually, you'd talk to the point where he wanted to cut his ear off. now, he wanted to her you. he wanted to hear you call him a moss-head like sanji and he wanted you to laugh when he yelled at luffy for doing something stupid. and—

"—hey?" his voice pitched higher, "please wait, chopper will be back yeah?"

but you didn't even shake your head a weak yes. his shaky fingers reached out to look for your pulse on your neck. it was there. feeble, but there. but for how long?

how long till he lost you?

his throat was closing up, he couldn't breathe. his eyes burned and he was sure he was gonna mark your skin with his own from the way he held onto your wrist.

why won't you talk to him? call out his name, god fucking dammit. nobody called his name the way you did. as if you liked the syllables enough to make a home out of them. nobody smiled at him the way you did. so sweet, too sweet for him. you were everything. even though he was just another wrecked, broken boy with dreams too big for his mortal body, you were everything.

"please," he clutched onto you like a maddening bastard, "please. just hold on, okay?"

but bile seemed to crawl farther up his throat every time you didn't respond. not even a slight glance. not even the movement of a pinky. his fingers checked for your pulse. faint, but there.

and he couldn't hold his words back. he called out your name in a desperate effort to awaken you. water blurred his vision and he blinked it away. his throat was scratchy. too scratchy. and where was chopper?

"i love you." he finally confessed, not thinking much of his words than the fact that he just wanted you to hear them. "i love you so much. i have for so long. i-it wasn't supposed to be like this. i- i was gonna take you out to explore some island. i would have bought you food and called you an idiot when you smiled at me. then— then." he paused, "i would have told you i loved you. you would have said nothing back. and i would have loved even despite that."

he called out your name, sobs racking through his body like accursed symphonies.

"move." chopper was back, in his hand was a ceramic bowl with a green, gooey paste. "go out. i'd call you back, okay?"

if chopped noticed the state zoro was in, he simply chose not to dwell on it. and if zoro had any residual doubts for what kind of a doctor chopper was, he didn't dwell on them either. he caressed your hand one last time and stepped out.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

the swordsman had been pacing around the deck. none of the members were back and it gnawed on his heart. what if they were hurt too? should he go back to see? but how could he leave chopper and you alone here? and what kind of a first mate was he if he cannot even save his own crew?

the world's greatest swordman be damned.

chopper stepped out and zoro looked at the doctor, frantic. chopper gave him a sigh and chased it with a smile, "she's okay."

zoro was not sure if it was the exhaustion, or the relief, or some other feeling his gut had concocted in him without asking. but he crashed down on his knees. his palms felt rough against his face and when he inhaled, he could smell dried blood on them.

"hey." chopper trotted towards him, keeping his paw on the green-haired man's shoulders, "she's okay, really. they missed any vital spots and she didn't lose a lot of blood. she will heal, okay?"

zoro couldn't do anything but just nod along. then, when he had the courage to look away from his hands. he looked at the doctor, finally muttering a faint "thank you."

the reindeer blushed at the compliment, "don't thank me. but you know, once she's better, you should tell her how you feel. this time maybe while she's conscious."

"chopper." the swordsman groaned.

the reindeer shrugged mechanically, "i won't tell anyone what i heard if you promise to take her out on that date."

after much deliberation— having to choose between humiliation at the hand of his crewmates when they discovered his crush or the humiliation from his crush when he finally confessed— he finally gave in. after all, humiliation from one was better than humiliation from seven. especially that fucking cook.

"fine." he grumbled, "i'd take her out."

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it had been two weeks since you were stabbed. well, you didn't talk to anyone about it, really. but when you drifted off into the wicked embrace of sleep, you would be plagued by the memories. and well, a confession.

it's not like you were pretending to be dead!! your body had simply given up. it was exhausted from the fighting and the not-dying. so, when you were laid on chopper's bed to be patched up, your body had gone slack. but just because your body had gone slack doesn't mean you weren't awake.

it had been two weeks and you hadn't told the green-haired asshole what you had heard. why? maybe cause you thought he would make the first move. or maybe because you weren't quite sure if he actually said those things or if you hallucinated it to dilute the pain.

eitherways, seemed like things between you and the mosshead were the same as they were before the incident. and you were really starting to consider the hallucination excuse. but then—

"hey." zoro quipped up as he came to stand beside you. it was cloudy today, the grey skies churning in anticipation of a storm. the winds were unkind and the sea was malevolent. beautiful nonetheless.

"oh hey." you turned and gave him a small smile. you shifted from one feet to another, pretending as if you weren't terrified of the route this conversation might take, "whats up?"

"uh—" he looked back for a spilt-second and you saw— from the corner of your eyes— chopper hidden behind a bunch of boxes, giving zoro his best death glare. zoro sighed, "so, uh, this is random, i think? but when we dock on the next island tomorrow morning. do like... do you want to go see some new sword-cleaning equipment with me?"

you shouldn't have laughed. but you did.

"what's funny?!" his eyes widened and his cheeks were dusted pink.

"no-nothing." you heaved, closing your eyes. "that's the best excuse you could come up with? sword cleaning equipment?"

"what do you mean 'excuse'? i need some equipment!"

"zoro." you forced open your eyes, your smile still frozen over your lips, "if you want to go out on a date with me, you should say that okay?"

his ears went red and he looked away. you were sure if the weather was quiet, you could hear his heart picking up the pace. clearing his throat, he finally asked, "who told you? chopper?"

"no, dummy." you reached your hand out, taking his calloused palm in yours. your thumb rubbed familiar patterns on his hand, "you did."

"me?" he snapped to look back at you, "me?"

you just gave him a grin, "this reminds me, i did promise you i'd try making sake flavoured mochi. i never did. but again, you said you'd ask frankie to make us fireworks and we're still firework-less. but hey, i forgive you if you forgive me okay?"

his head could have burst open from the sheer pressure on his brain but you continued, "but eitherways, what i really mean is that if you said i love you." you stepped a bit closer, "i'd say i love you too."

your hand let go of his and you chose to walk away, leaving him dumbfounded. when his senses came to him, he ran upto you, "YOU HEARD THAT ALL?!"

"all of it."

"ugh."

"heh, it was kinda cute."

"i thought you were dying, woman."

"in a way, we all already are."

"have you been hanging out with robin too much? god, kill me."

"god doesn't need to. you're already dying."

"i want to die faster."

you took his hand back in yours and pulled him towards yourself. pecking his cheek, you said, "no. we still have to go on that date. i mean, if you ever actually ask me."

the flustered mess that was rorononoa zoro just sighed. accepting his fate, he asked, "well, do you wanna go on that date or what?"

you snickered, "i'll think about it"

"do you live to annoy me?"

"maybe. but you love meee."

"i might change my mind after this."

but despite his words, his fingers stayed gently intertwined with yours. hey, maybe getting stabbed in the stomach wasn't all that bad? (jk, it was very very bad)

a/n: i love writing stoic men are flustered little guys lmaoo. hopefully y'all like this? i've been writing a lot of fluff/semi-angst lately. i wanna write some nsfw content but im so out of ideas. send reqs if you guys have anything in mind!!

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro fluff #zoro fic #zoro imagine #one piece x reader

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talesofesther · 2 years

Text

dead channels

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie finds dead channels on a walkie-talkie to vent about his feelings and everything he goes through. One day, you happen to stumble upon his frequency.

A/N: I can't remember where I saw a prompt like this, but I knew that I had to write something about it. I think it's important to say that I know very little about how walkie-talkies work. And yes I went way overboard with this story but I truly loved how it turned out; it's a big one, the biggest one shot I've ever written, but I promise, it's worth it.

Word count: 11k

Masterlist

February 7, 1985

You were annoyed, and Dustin would hear about it for giving you a walkie-talkie without telling you what channel you were supposed to be using.

You paced in your living room, switching the frequencies, finding dead channel after dead channel. For ten minutes the only noise coming from the device in your hands was static.

Until you turned the switch one more time, and the static stopped. You clenched your fist in victory, sitting down on your couch and about to voice your frustrations to your younger friend.

"… I hadn't seen him in four years, man."

To your surprise though, someone on the other end of the connection spoke first.

A deep frown etched itself into your face when you heard the muffled voice. It wasn't one you could recognize, clearly not Dustin's. The words were laced with a distant sizzle, maybe because the person talking was too far from your location or the walkie they were using was too beat up. The tone was quiet too as if spoken without the intention of anyone hearing it.

Against your better judgment and with the help of innocent curiosity, you didn't switch channels.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Shit, I shouldn't have been expecting anything. Uncle Wayne was furious when he walked in on us and saw my bloody nose, he chased him off, yelling for him to never come back, not even caring what he needed the money for. I- I wanted to say something too but… Damnit.."

You heard what you assumed was a sniff before the stranger kept on talking.

"Dad did always make it clear that I was his biggest mistake, guess I just wasn't expecting him to come back and throw it at my face after all these years. Again."

The words were a private confession you weren't supposed to hear. There was no answer for the muffled voice. This person was using what he thought was a long-forgotten channel as some sort of diary, maybe. At least that was your first assumption.

You ran a thumb over the grey plastic of the walkie-talkie on your hands, finger hovering above the switch. Your knee bumping up and down. Should you say something? Should you change frequencies and forget this ever happened?

You changed channels, but not before memorizing the frequency.

February 19, 1985

Almost two weeks went by before you heard the lonely voice on the dead channel again. You told yourself it wasn't creepy to set your walkie-talkie to the channel when you weren't using it.

You stood in front of your kitchen counter, cutting up potatoes for your dinner. The chicken was already heating up and you sneaked tiny pieces of it to your dog when your mom wasn't looking.

The walkie rested on the dining table, you liked to keep it close these days. One never knows when the upside-down might decide to pay a visit.

"So uh, Hellfire has a new member."

You nearly cut your own finger when the static buzzed and, right after, the stranger's voice was invading your house. You turned around, carefully, as if the person knew you were listening in.

"His name's Gareth, seems like a cool guy. Honestly, I'm just happy that we now have enough people for a full campaign, I- I have all of it planned out and I think it's gonna be great, the storyline is thrilling…"

Subconsciously, you found yourself smiling. The kitchen was empty, save for your dog wagging his tail, and you were smiling as if someone had just told you the good news you were waiting for.

You didn't know this person, this was the second time you were hearing his voice, yet the almost childlike excitement that laced his tone today filled your chest with similar joy. A stark contrast to the last time you heard him.

Was it too weird to feel like you were starting to know him?

February 20, 1985

It didn't take long for you to hear from him again, not even a full day had gone by.

You had just gotten home. Throwing your car keys on top of your bed and removing your coat. On the horizon and past houses and trees, the sun was starting to lower itself, you looked at the orange rays through your window, stretching your arms.

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in search of pajamas when you heard it.

"I fucking… this school, man… Jaso-… ruined my da-"

The voice was laced with static and fading in and out of connection, the sound muffled by your backpack. You were in the process of removing your shirt as you raced towards your bag, almost tripping over your discarded sneakers.

Pulling open the zipper, you snatched the walkie and adjusted the antenna.

"… been working on that campaign for weeks man, weeks, and that douchebag just… He- he…"

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, in nothing but your jeans and a bra; the tone of his voice slicing through your heart and making it bleed. Your eyes were unfocused as you loosely held the device, waiting for the lonely voice.

"Ripped it to pieces and threw it in the mud as if it was nothing. It's not fair. Shit, it's not fair, and I- I wanted to fight back y'know? But…"

You heard a sigh, heavy and tired.

"Yeah I froze, it's not like three against one would be much of a fight anyway."

The static came and the voice was gone. You stayed there, the wooden floor starting to become cold under your knees. Your eyebrows pulled slowly into a frown. Does this person study at Hawkins High? It's not like Hawkins had many options regarding school but still, it left you all the more frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint who it was.

Granted, your only normal year in high school was the first, and you didn't remember much about it. After that, Will went missing, and… Your mind had been a bit numb to the normal days ever since, you wouldn't be surprised if this person was a classmate of yours.

Abril 29, 1985

After a couple of months, you genuinely felt as if you knew this person.

It was odd if you so much as stopped to think about it. He opened his heart to what he thought was an abandoned channel, yet you were always there, listening; but never talking back. You knew his voice by memory, yet he didn't even know there was someone on the other end.

Sometimes — most of the time — there was a pang of nagging guilt at the back of your mind. But you'd usually think to yourself; what if, someday, something happens and he needs someone?

Well, you'd most likely be there, and if anything, the thought made you feel a little better about your curiosity.

The lonely boy on the walkie-talkie became your secret. A secret, for the sole reason, that he also became your comfort. These days your house was mostly always empty. You slept with the device resting on your bedside table. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could almost feel as if he was there with you. He became a constant presence in your day, even when he didn't speak, you knew he was there. Knowing there was someone else out there made you feel less alone.

Sometimes, when the sizzled voice coming from the device was too shaky, laced with tears and sorrow; the guilt made itself more present, you wished you had the courage to speak up. To tell him that you were there too, that you could be there for him if he wanted you to, the same way he involuntarily was there for you.

After a long Thursday, you were sleeping, the rain outside had lulled you to an easy slumber tonight. However, when your bedside clock hit 2:08 AM, a distant voice started pulling you away from dreamland.

The sound was distant to your ears at first, waiting for your body to fully wake up. You opened your drowsy eyes with a frown, looking around your bedroom that was still engulfed in darkness, with only the street lamps making the raindrops on your window shine.

And then you heard the familiar voice again, quiet, molding itself into the night.

Maybe it was a bit foolish of you to leave the walkie on during the night, but these days, you couldn't help yourself.

"… and Wayne found a picture of my mom. He says I have her eyes."

He continued, apparently. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, the covers pooling at your waist. You wondered how much of his monologue you had missed.

"I don't…"

The tears staining his voice were pretty noticeable tonight.

"I don't remember her that well anymore, I wish we'd had more time… Shit."

And that was all. Static, and then he was gone again. It was fast, part of you wishing you hadn't slept at all.

July 4, 1985

You took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for the pain. With one hand grabbing onto the bathroom sink, you draped the antiseptic-covered cloth against the wound in your abdomen.

The paramedics at the mall did a good enough job, but some cuts still needed a bit more attention.

It had been one hell of a week and you barely had time to breathe between being trapped in a Russian elevator, finding a Russian base, being drugged and tortured by said Russians, and for the cherry on top, fighting a human flesh-based giant monster.

You were heavily considering a vacation from Hawkins.

Biting into your lip, you carefully closed the bandage over the wound. The white sink of your bathroom was covered in blood, as were the tip of your fingers and parts of your clothes. Tonight, you thanked the heavens for your mother's busy schedule, providing you with an empty house and plenty of time to clean up the mess.

Steve, the ever-sweet boy, offered to stay with you and help with… whatever you might need. You said you were fine, which, was a lie, but he had enough pain of his own to take care of.

You discarded your shirt to the bathroom floor, looking at your exposed skin in the mirror with a grimace. Long sleeves and sunglasses would be your go-to for a while if you wanted to avoid questions. You were popping open the buttons of your jeans when the crackle and static of the walkie-talkie made you jump. The warm voice of the stranger buzzed through right after.

"Starcourt just burst into flames."

You placed a hand over your racing heart, tightly shutting your eyes before reaching out for the walkie that rested against the tub.

"Yeah it's- it's crazy, the new town mall just burned to a crisp, at least that's what the news is saying. But I don't know man, I was making a deal near there when I heard the ambulances, there were so many of them; I mean, they said a lot of people died, so…"

You sat down on the edge of the tub, holding the walkie tightly between your hands as you listened intently.

"But still, I walked up to see what was happening and the place was filled with cops, army even, and well, ambulances. I had never seen something like that. And the weird thing is that there were some people from school there, Harrington for one, I also saw some kids from middle school and… Y/N was there…"

A chill ran up and down your spine when you heard him say your name. This person, the one you've been listening to in what was supposed to be a dead channel, the one who chased away the cold feeling of loneliness; knew you. Your lips hung open in shock, he said your name with such ease. He saw you there, he recognized you from a distance and under the blinking lights of the ambulances. Your chest constricted around your heart, squeezing tightly up towards your throat. You wanted to know him too.

You felt guilty for not being able to pinpoint who he was. Okay, the sound of a voice through a walkie-talkie is not the best or clearest. Still, if he knew you so easily, he definitely went to the same school as you, had the same classes, walked the same hallways.

Raising a hand, you rubbed your eyes and clawed at your hair. Urging yourself to think of someone, anyone.

"She- I saw her, she was sitting by herself in the back of an ambulance and I think she was crying. I'm not sure but, she looked so beat up, and- and hurt and I was walking, I mean, I was going to walk up to her to see if she was okay but a cop didn't let me. Maybe for the best, would just end up scaring her more I guess. To be honest, I don't know why I'm talking about it, I just felt like… Nevermind."

Scare you?

Your unfocused eyes stared ahead for long seconds. The cold from the tiles seeping through your body because of your bare feet.

One person came to your mind.

You hugged yourself, arm closing around your abdomen, feeling the cold, bruised skin underneath.

You thought of soft and unruly brown curls, tattoos, metal band t-shirts, and leather jackets.

You had never talked with him, shared maybe one class, literature; he rarely said anything then too. You passed by each other in the hallways, and you once caught him watching you in the cafeteria, he had been so flustered when it happened that you found it adorable. You then started shooting him small smiles here and there, and he reciprocated with big ones of his own.

Robin told you about him once. The School's Freak, she said people called him.

______

There was no way for you to be completely sure it was him, it's not like you could walk up to him one day and ask about it.

But you did start paying more attention to him, Eddie. It was hard when you only had him in the same class as yours one time, and other than that, only bumping into each other in the hallways didn't leave much room to observe.

You could walk up to him and talk, he seemed sweet. You didn't have all that courage yet though.

So you kept on listening, and your eyes kept on searching for him in the crowds. A few months went by like that, and you grew attached to someone you had never talked to.

December 6, 1985

Cold wind was raging outside and you were glad to have a working heater in your house. No amount of it felt enough though, as you sat on the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.

Your dog lay beside you, as you annoyed yourself by trying to set up the Christmas tree; it was a bit too big for the flower pot you had at home.

Slowly letting go of the branches, you said a quiet "yes" when the tree didn't topple over.

You started with putting on the blinking lights, turning them on to bathe the room in a multitude of colors. And as you rummaged through the trinkets, your ears caught in with the familiar static;

"So, I felt like setting up a Christmas tree this year. It's in the kitchen and it's not big, but it's there. I- I even bought some lights and there were some ornaments tucked away in a box that I found…"

The walkie was resting on top of your couch and you found yourself yet again smiling alone because of the pure happiness that came from your unusual companion.

"Christmas was never a very… happy holiday for me but, maybe this year will be better."

"I hope it is." You caught yourself answering back quietly, for no one to hear.

January 3, 1986

Winters could be pretty harsh on Hawkins. The break was over and it just so happened to be pouring rain on the first day back to school.

The skies were grey, heavy drops of water hitting the pavement as you turned the wheel into the parking lot. Of course, it was packed with cars, no one wanted to walk when it was raining.

You groaned as you pulled up in one of the farthest spots from school. Closing the zipper of your jacket, you grabbed your backpack and a small yellow umbrella you always had in your car.

The little thing didn't do all that much in keeping the rain from reaching you, with help from the wind, the only part of your body you managed to keep dry was your head. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other a strap of your bag, you took quick steps towards the school; walking forward with purpose when actually you should be paying attention to the puddles and many leaves the wind knocked down last night.

Water splashed around your boots, but before you could even get annoyed at that, your foot was slipping on brown leaves; the motion sent you falling back and you could only think of your backpack being submerged in the puddle.

It never happened though. You closed your eyes bracing for the impact, and instead felt two arms around your waist, your back hitting someone's chest instead.

"Woah hey, careful. That would've been a disaster."

You clutched your sorry excuse of an umbrella, slowly standing up and removing yourself from the embrace that caught you. His voice reverberated through your body in the form of a shiver, making your heart pump blood faster. The tight grip you had on the umbrella was mimicked from the one in your lungs. You couldn't breathe, because you knew that voice.

Turning around, you met the chocolate brown eyes you had been secretly wanting to see this up close for months now.

Eddie looked down at you with the ghost of a smile, he wore a black hoodie to protect himself from the rain; still, some droplets of water clung to his hair and eyelashes, shining.

And your silence must have sent him the wrong message because he stuffed his hands in the hoodie's pocket and took a few steps away from you.

He cleared his throat, eyes moving to look at something over your shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want you to fall, didn't mean to overstep or anything."

You internally kicked yourself multiple times for being a weirdo. "No, you didn't overstep, at all. uh- thank you." You breathed, managing a reassuring smile. "Really, you saved me from a massive embarrassment and from being cold all day."

You quickly maneuvered your umbrella to cover both of you, moving to stand beside Eddie. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."

Eddie's cheeks flushed pink at the unusual kindness. He walked side by side with you, bodies close under the yellow umbrella. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach because he finally talked to the girl who held his heart's affection.

Once inside the school, Eddie headed to his art class whilst you walked to your science one. He waved a shy goodbye at you and that was it.

Even if you tried, you couldn't possibly concentrate on what the teacher was saying or the notes you were supposed to be taking. Eddie Munson was the lonely stranger who had been keeping you company over the last year. Seeing the clear picture now, you were frustrated for not putting two and two together sooner.

You were fidgeting with the pencil on your hands, biting your tongue until you almost tasted blood because now the person who spoke over the static of the walkie was suddenly so real, so tangible. And if anything, knowing it was Eddie only made your heart swell harder for him.

January 23, 1986

Friday nights were your nights, the time you always gave yourself to simply relax. You'd pick up a movie at Family Video, taking the opportunity to hang out with Robin and Steve at their new place of work for a while; then get home and change into your most comfortable pajamas, make some popcorn, and lunge on the couch. Just as you are now.

You lazily stroked your dog's fur, who was passed out beside you. The lights were off and the only thing illuminating your face where the images on the TV.

Last time you checked it was around 8 PM, but after a long week, your eyes slowly started to drop with tiredness. That is until the walkie-talkie inside your backpack started buzzing with the familiar static, and you were suddenly more awake than ever.

You scrambled to grab it, quickly raising the antenna before throwing yourself onto the couch again. You lowered the volume of the TV, waiting.

You heard a pained grunt first and then;

"Jesus man, they got me good today. Ugh shit- I feel like a truck ran me over or something."

Concern etched itself into your face instantly, you grabbed your blanket closer to yourself, praying for some kind of elaboration from Eddie.

Eddie. It still felt so foreign to have a name for the lonely voice now.

"I should- I should be used to it by now but… I just want it to stop. Whatever man, I'll just strap a band-aid to it and sleep it off."

"No, no, no. Don't do that." You mumbled to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, stomach twisting in anxiousness. Running over every possible scenario in your head, even with most of them Eddie hating you in the end, you decided that you wouldn't leave him alone today.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, crossing your fingers for it to not be a mistake.

You pushed the button on the walkie. "You should clean the cut first."

Silence, there was silence for a long time. His voice was smaller when he spoke again, hesitant.

"I- I'm sorry I thought this was a dead channel… No one ever answered, I'm- I didn't mean to.."

"It's okay," you closed your eyes, interrupting him. "It was a dead channel, I think; I just stumbled upon it a while ago — not long, promise — and I heard you, and, I don't know it felt like you could use some company I guess. But then, I- I never really said anything."

You bit your lip, nerves making you tap your knee incessantly. "I sort of just, hung around in case you… I wasn't listening like a creep or something just- I'll switch channels in a minute okay? I just need to know, are you hurt?"

You let go of the button and groaned audibly, facepalming because of your own words.

"A little, yeah."

His quiet voice was a relief, part of you expected him to leave you hanging. You leaned back on your couch. "Okay, uh listen, if it's a cut, you need to clean it up, if you don't have antiseptics just use water. And if it's just a small one, it's best to leave it open, so it can heal on its own."

"You have a lot of experience with this stuff?"

You smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Eddie was surprisingly chill about your whole predicament. You walked him through patching himself up. From what he told you it wasn't that bad, just a few punches here and there that would leave him sore for a few days. It still made you feel sick to your stomach though.

Talking with him was easy, the way his voice addressed you made you smile. About an hour had passed when you deemed he was taken care of.

"Hey, I'm sorry for never telling you there was someone else on this channel. It was a shitty move, I just never managed the courage to speak up I guess." You told him before ending the call. "But I promise I'll never switch to it again."

You held the walkie between both your hands, the movie on your TV had long since been over.

"It's okay. Anyone could've found this random frequency, I'm glad it was you. I uh- usually change them, from time to time. But this one was always silent, so I figured I'd stay."

Picking at a loose strand from your blanket, you pressed the button again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled again. "It was never my intention to intrude. Just so you know, I wasn't always listening, to you, I mean… Sometimes it happened but, like I said I thought that maybe one day you might need someone to talk to or something."

Eddie must have heard the worry in your tone because his next words calmed you;

"You don't need to apologize, it's okay. To be honest I don't know why I started doing… this. I guess I just wanted to pretend like someone cared to listen to my whining. It feels- it feels nice to hear a voice answering back for a change. You don't need to leave."

And so you stayed.

______

The routine that you both created was different, to say the least. You didn't realize how much you were dreading having to leave his channel on the walkie until he said you could stay and you felt the weight being lifted from your shoulders.

Now, you were actually talking to each other. You felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush each time you heard Eddie's shy voice calling out for you over the walkie-talkie. He was always hesitant, always a bit too quiet in the beginning. But he seemed to enjoy the company just as much as you did.

You saw him at school every day, sharing nothing more than a few 'good mornings' here and there. Maybe he knew it was you who he talked to on the supposedly dead channel. Maybe he suspected it could be you, just like you did in the beginning. Either way, he never asked.

And you didn't either. It was a silent mutual understanding that names didn't need to be exchanged. You knew he felt more comfortable this way, after all, he was sharing his heart out with what he thought was no one before you spoke up.

You let Eddie set the pace, this was his safe space. When he felt ready to talk in person or ask about you, you'd be there.

February 4, 1986

"Come on guys it's no fun if you just stay sitting there," Max complained, before dropping her skate to the ground and making her way to the ramps.

You and Steve sat on a blanket under a big willow tree, one of the few shadows surrounding the skate park. The day was sunny and the place was filled with teens.

"Alright, I think I'll go then." Steve got up, stretching his limbs and picking up the rollerblades. "You coming?" He turned to you.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." You smiled at him. He shot you a smile back before making his way to the cement slopes in the park.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the trees around you.

"Hey, um, you- you there?"

Hearing the sizzled voice coming from the walkie near your backpack, you stretched an arm to grab it; pulling the antenna up and pressing the button. "Hi, yeah, I'm here."

"Cool, is this like, a good time, am I interrupting something?"

You smiled with Eddie's voice, your eyes following Steve's wobbly movements on his rollerblades. You laughed when Max had to rush to him so he wouldn't fall.

"No, it's perfect," You told Eddie.

That was the day you held your first normal conversation with him. He had called just for that, to talk; and your heart just about melted. You told him where you were, told him how a friend of yours was kinda bad at skating and the younger one was a pro. And Eddie told you about going to lunch with his uncle, how the man sometimes was the dad he never had.

March 12, 1986

"And then he just ran over the living room, dragging mud everywhere. God, I was so mad." You giggled, laying down on your bed and holding the walkie over the pillow next to yours.

A soft static came and Eddie's voice followed. You heard his laugh first, making your smile widen.

"I can imagine the mess. But it's so cool that you have a dog, man. I've always wanted a cat, or a dog too."

You turned around, eyes fixed on the pillow beside you, a tiny part of you hoped to see Eddie staring back at you. Outside your window, you caught a glimpse of the evening sun, orange and pink rays announcing its departure for the day. "Yeah, he's good company. Makes me laugh even if I get mad first."

Silence followed after. You closed your eyes, conjuring up an image of Eddie raking his mind over what to say next. It was cheesy. You didn't care.

"You know, I- I've been learning a new song, I play guitar, and I've been learning this new song. It's pretty sick, it's not perfect yet but… Do you- do you wanna hear it?"

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, breathing out a chuckle. Your heartbeat was drumming against your ribcage, happy that he was slowly becoming comfortable enough to share more things with you. "I would love to."

"Okay, here goes…"

You could hear the smile on his words, and as he started strumming the cords on his guitar, you decided that you loved hearing him play.

March 22, 1986

You'd never wanted this to be the way for you to see him again.

After calling a bunch of people and searching up every Rick in town just to find Eddie, then finally getting a hold of him in a secluded house at Lover's Lake and sort of filling him in about what was potentially happening; your friends were now deciding how to continue.

"Are we just gonna leave him here?"

"I mean it's not like we can walk around town with him."

"Then we can, I don't know, stop at a market by morning and bring him some food."

Dustin, Steve, and Robin talked amongst themselves, their faces illuminated by flashlights and the moonlight seeping through the shack's windows. You were leaning against the iron wall in the far corner, gaze trained on the swaying boat but not really focused.

To put it lightly, things went to shit. The upside-down was showing its claws again, but your main concern is that Eddie was being accused of murder.

Slowly, your gaze found him, and the mere sight tore your heart into two. He was slumped down in the opposite corner of the small shack, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking violently; his cheeks had tear tracks on them, no doubt his mind was reliving what he went through.

You wanted to go to him. Hug him close and tell him everything would be okay. But things weren't so simple. Until now, you still hadn't spoken to him in person again. You didn't know where boundaries started or ended.

"Okay, it's settled then." Steve decided. "Hey man, we're gonna bring you something to eat by morning yeah? Until then just… Try and get some rest." He addressed Eddie, who could only look at him.

One by one, your friends exited the fishing shack, walking out into the night, your gaze switched between the door and Eddie's small figure against the wall. You took slow steps to the door but stopped by the threshold.

"Steve," you called for your friend, hand resting on the doorway, "I think I'm gonna stay too, it's not good for him to be alone."

Steve walked back to you with a frown, his sneakers crushing the leaves underneath. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. "Yeah it's alright, I don't want him alone."

The look in your eyes didn't leave much room to argue. Steve left with a reassuring smile and the promise of food by morning.

As the car sped off in the distance, you closed the door behind you and turned to Eddie. He hadn't moved, his eyes were clouded with dread.

You took careful steps towards him, wincing at how the old wooden floor screeched beneath your feet. You moved to sit down in front of him, leaning your back on some wooden crates.

"You didn't have to stay." Eddie forced out, with a quiet tone that broke in the middle. His gentle brown eyes were glistening under the fading moonlight.

Gulping down a lump in your throat, you managed a smile. "I wanted to."

Eddie's gaze drifted from yours, the curl on his lips was bittersweet. "It's you, isn't it? Who- who I've been talking to."

You could hear your own heartbeat. "Yeah." You breathed out.

Eddie bounced once in his seat, leaning forward with a real smile. "I knew it!"

His excitement made you chuckle. You thought about how this would happen, you never imagined it this way though. Yet somehow, sitting with him in an old fishing shack in the dead of night while hiding from authorities, felt weirdly right.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, I just didn't want to…" You trailed off.

"Mess it up?" Eddie finished for you and you nodded.

He picked at a loose thread on the rip of his jeans. "Yeah, me neither. I mean, I had a feeling, that it was you, I thought your voice was familiar but… I never had the balls to ask."

Eddie looked up at you then, pupils blown as he took you in. You, the person who became his safe space. The one who could take his breath away with just a simple 'hello'.

Since the first time you shot him a dazzling smile at school his heart had been entranced with you. People rarely spared him the time of day, yet you graced him with a genuine smile every day. And Eddie wholeheartedly meant it the day he said he was glad it was you who found his channel on the walkie.

Back then he didn't know how much he was hurting, aching for someone that would care about him, about listening to him. And that day, when your voice came through the once dead channel, his lungs took a deep breath of fresh air after weeks, months of drowning in murky waters, alone.

Eddie counted the minutes to your conversations each day, it was the best part of his day, the one he looked forward to the most. Talking with you was easy, he became addicted fast, and fell even faster.

You decided that it wouldn't be a problem for you both to sleep inside Rick's house, it's not like anyone would come looking, and sleeping on hard wood or inside a boat was less than ideal.

The house was a mess inside, looking like it had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered the surfaces, most things being out of place and haphazardly thrown around. You searched around for rooms with Eddie close behind you.

There were two bedrooms, you stood in the hallway between both doors. "I can take this one and you take the other?" You pointed to one of the rooms.

Eddie nodded hesitantly, he was fidgeting with his rings, uneasy. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had a feeling about what it was. "Or, we could just take the same room."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a relieved sigh instantly, "please." He was dreading the feeling of being alone. Even if you were in the other room, it was too far.

You both removed shoes and unnecessary layers of clothing, laying down on the bed with a reasonable distance between you. The bed smelled… old, like it hasn't been used in some time, but it looked clean.

Eddie was as stiff as a rock beside you, even not touching him you could feel it. You turned to him, adjusting the covers over you. "Try to relax Eddie, you need to rest."

He breathed out, lower lip wobbling with the motion before he turned to you as well. Eddie clutched the covers closer to his chest, a cheap attempt at seeking some kind of comfort. "You know I didn't do it, right?" He tentatively raised his gaze to yours after he spoke, barely being able to make out your face in the darkness of the room.

You frowned, for a split second wondering what he was talking about until the worry in his voice caught up to you. "Of course I do. Eddie, I- I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone. It's just not who you are. You're good." In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing and running your thumb over his knuckles.

Eddie felt his whole body filling with goosebumps at your touch, air getting stuck on his throat as he savored the feeling. He scooted closer to you, only a little, and didn't let go of your hand through the whole night.

March 24, 1986

After Max figured out she was most likely next on Vecna's list, you had to leave Eddie's side to help your friends.

Steve's car was waiting on the side of the road for you to get in, a breeze was flowing through the grey sky, rustling green and brown leaves.

You put on your jacket and prepared to leave Eddie's hiding place, walking to the front door of the neglected house, with Eddie right behind you. You turned to him before you walked outside. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the house. "Yeah, I don't think anyone will come looking here. Plus, your friends need you."

"You're my friend too." You told him quietly, tilting your head as your eyes remained on him.

Gentle brown eyes found yours, Eddie pursed his lips before taking half a step towards you. He was about to reach out for you but hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly before lifting a hand to the back of his neck and extending the other for you to shake.

His attempt at pretending he wasn't about to give you a hug made you giggle. You closed the gap between you with a smile, pulling Eddie to you and holding on tightly.

His arms went instantly around your waist and he lowered his head against your shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?"

After being separated from Eddie; Nancy, Robin and you took a trip to Pennhurst, managing to speak with Victor Creel just in time to save Max's life.

March 25, 1986

Between saving Max and finding Victor's abandoned house, only now do you and your friends have time to check up on Eddie.

Your knee was bouncing incessantly the whole car ride there, your stomach was twisting with a weird bad feeling like something wasn't right. And sure enough, when you finally arrived at Rick's old house, it was surrounded by cops, nosy civilians, and the town's reporters. Yellow tapes blocked the access to the area and you just about felt your heart dropping to your ass at the sight; surely going a few shades paler at the thought of anyone finding Eddie.

Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away. Your fists balled in anger when you heard the chief of police making Eddie's name public as the prime suspect of the damned murders.

"Dustin? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You had never been so relieved to hear Eddie's voice through the familiar crackle and static of the walkie-talkie. Before Dustin could even think of answering, you were already snatching the walkie from his backpack and taking a few steps away from the crowd to answer.

"Eddie? Thank god, you almost gave me a heart attack, are you okay?"

From the other end of the frequency, crouching under a massive rock in the middle of the woods, Eddie dropped his forehead against the walkie held between his shaky hands; a single tear escaping his eye.

"Not really, sweetheart. But shit, it's so good to hear your voice through this thing again, you have no idea."

You smiled, tension leaving your body in waves for the very same reason. "Where are you? I'll come find you."

"Skull rock, you know it?"

"I know where it is," Steve told you, all of you already making a beeline for the car.

The woods you were walking through to find Skull rock were dense, everywhere you looked sort of seemed to be the same place and you could only pray that Steve and Dustin knew where they were headed.

All you could think about was finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, and then never leaving his side again. Leaves and branches crushed beneath your sneakers, Robin and Nancy spoke softly behind you, their voices mixing with the birds singing around the forest. Despite the situation, you found yourself smiling because of the unlikely bond you had formed with the long-haired boy.

Steve squeezed his way past dense bushes with a huge grin, revealing the giant rock. "There she is Henderson, Skull rock. In your face man." He said happily, apparently winning whatever discussion he'd been having with Dustin.

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin said beside you, making you turn your head to him with a soft frown.

"Yeah, even with it staring you right in the face, you can't admit it. You just can't admit that you're wrong, you little butthead." Steve shrugged, lightly mocking the teen.

A loud thud came from behind you, then. Making you jump on the spot and quickly whip your head around.

"I concur, you Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead." Eddie took a deep breath in, hands resting on his hips.

Your lips turned up with a relieved smile, you didn't waste a second before walking the remaining steps towards him. You pulled Eddie to you with a stronger grip than before, closing your eyes to just feel him, there and safe.

"I was so worried, thought they got you." You mumbled against him.

Eddie held you back with the same intensity, one hand running up your spine and to your shoulder blades. "Yeah me too, sweetheart." He squeezed a little tighter, basking in the feeling of comfort only you can give him.

______

You could safely say that being in the upside-down was not on your bucket list. Yet here you were, swinging oars at cursed bats that decided to feast on Steve's torso. The sight was nightmarish, it was your Hawkins, only much darker, with a never-ending red storm in the sky, dust particles that made it hard to breathe, and gross vines crawling everywhere.

And only after — sort of — winning the fight against the bats and losing the creatures with help of the forest; that you finally felt the nagging pain in your leg.

You were walking beside Eddie, who was still freaked out. Steve, Nancy, and Robin just a step ahead amidst the looming trees. It started with just a distant pain that had you limping, then you felt wetness running down your ankle and soon enough you were light-headed, some trees doubling themselves in your vision.

You didn't register you were falling until Eddie was scrambling to catch you.

"Y/N? Shit, don't do this to me. What happened?" He was already on edge and right now it'd be safe to say he was on the verge of panic. He had both arms under yours, maneuvering you to sit on the ground with your back against his chest.

His voice alerted the others, who came running back.

Nancy crouched in front of you, concern evident on her face as she checked for injuries. "I think she was bitten on her leg."

She lifted your jeans slowly, causing you to groan with the sharp pain shooting up and down your leg. You could feel Eddie squeezing your hand, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as you heard his soft voice telling you you'd be okay.

Using Eddie's bandana, Nancy managed a tourniquet around your leg. The bleeding ceased to a minimum, and you allowed yourselves at least five minutes to breathe given that you and Steve had been hurt pretty badly.

Eddie rested his back against a nearby tree, and even if you asked, you didn't think he'd let you go. So you remained in his arms, comfortably resting back onto his warm chest.

He had his arms wound around your abdomen, grip never wavering. You brought a hand over his, brushing over his knuckles.

You felt him tense momentarily behind you, then he started lazily playing with your fingers. "Getting back at me for making you worry earlier?"

A chuckle escaped you, leaning your head back on his shoulder. "Something like that, yeah."

Several heartbeats passed before you felt Eddie turning his head, his lips grazed your hairline. "I can't lose you, man. I just- can't."

His voice came out quiet and broken, if you weren't literally feeling his breath against your ear, you wouldn't have heard. Goosebumps filled your body, you grasped his hand in yours.

"You won't." You promised.

March 26, 1986

It was almost bittersweet, the momentary peacefulness of the green fields, when you knew what you would be heading into soon. The place was gorgeous, a hidden treasure maybe. The blue of the sky contrasts with the endless grass plains, with numerous trees surrounding the clearing.

You sat by the trailer Eddie and Steve stole, preparing molotovs with Robin. You opened one of the bottles, pushed the cloth inside, and heard a familiar laugh in the distance; looking up, you saw Eddie wrestling with Dustin, both boys running around on the green field with smiles on their faces.

"How's your leg?"

Robin's voice from beside you made you aware of your own smile. You tried to hide it, focusing back on your task, but not before stealing a last glance towards Eddie. "It's better. Bothering a little but nothing I can't handle."

When Robin didn't answer, you glanced up to meet her eyes. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, making you raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You two are adorable, y'know?" Robin mused, smile persistent as she put another finished molotov to the side.

"We're friends, Robin." You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh yeah, you totally are."

From far away, Eddie swung his newly made shield around, with an excited bounce on his feet. "Hit me, Henderson."

Dustin jabbed the makeshift spear into Eddie's shield, both of them smiling when both weapons held up well.

Twirling the spear in his hands, Dustin rolled his eyes when he noticed Eddie sneaking a glance towards the stolen trailer for the thousandth time. "When were you going to tell me about her anyway?"

Eddie's head snapped towards Dustin, and he straightened in his stance, both hands holding the shield to his chest. "What are you talking about, man?"

Dustin spread his arms and pointedly raised his eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?'; "you and Y/N obviously, when did that happen and why am I always the last one to know?"

"There's nothing to know and nothing to tell, alright? We're just friends." Eddie told him nervously, pushing away strands of hair that the wind had brought to his eyes. "She deserves much better anyway." He grumbled to himself.

The incredulous look on Dustin's face would have been comical if he hadn't all but shouted his next words; "spare me, dude, everyone can see it, you like each-"

"Jesus christ, shut it Henderson." Eddie sprinted towards him, shield pointed at the boy who had no other option than to stop talking and defend himself.

______

The moment you crossed the portal back to your Hawkins, and Eddie hesitated, you could swear you felt your heart freezing in your chest. Before he even cut the rope, you were already begging him not to do it.

The makeshift rope fell on your hands and he might as well have plunged the spear right into your heart. Eddie was looking up at you from the upside-down and your throat was already closing with dread, you were screaming at him, words you couldn't even remember. When he walked away from the portal with the promise to come back, for the first time, you didn't believe him.

Everything had happened in a haze, you told Dustin to not dare move as you managed a way up and back through the portal. The wounds on your leg were stinging with each of your movements, more so as you hit the ground on the cursed side of Hawkins.

Your pain hadn't been a concern then, the sole thing on your mind was to find Eddie. You had thrown open the trailer door and ran out into the upside-down world as fast as your legs could carry you, not stopping once, sneakers thudding against the grey ground.

When you saw the swarm of bats circling only one spot, in a hurricane-like manner, hundreds of them going from the ground and up to the sky; you knew Eddie was there, in the eye of the storm. With no regard for your own safety, air stuck in your lungs in a mix of fear and adrenaline, you ran to him.

You could remember the particles in the atmosphere clouding your throat, the blood flowing down your leg.

You had found him there then, tears collecting on the bottom lid of your eyes. You didn't stop though. Eddie was on the ground, with the tail of one of the bats around his neck and a few others trying to claw at his abdomen.

What lasted about five seconds felt like an eternity. You had spotted Eddie's spear, grasping it tightly in your hands and slicing the bat's tail clean off its body, aiming for the ones attacking Eddie next.

When Eddie stumbled up beside you, wobbly on his feet but still standing, shield in his hands; you had already felt a faint relief.

Not even a minute after, all the bats surrounding you were falling from the sky as some sick resemblance of rain. Dead. You thanked whoever did it. Dropping down to your knees — to catch the first real huff of breath ever since the rope had fallen heavily in your hands — you looked Eddie over, who had also been breathing heavily beside you. He was hurt, yes; a few bites and scratches here and there, but he was okay. No air seemed to be enough for you though, almost like the beginnings of a panic attack that you tried to chase away.

Eddie had extended a hand to you, you had seen the worry in his eyes that no doubt were mimicking yours.

And that had been the last look you gave him. You had pushed his hand away weakly, standing up on your own, with legs that almost didn't have enough strength to carry you. Your chest was going up and down with difficulty. You had dropped the spear to the ground with a thud, slowly limping back to the portal on the trailer. Eddie followed, you didn't look at him.

Now — after Steve, Nancy and Robin had found their way back through the portal as well, and you all but collapsed into Steve's arms because your body had simply given up — you sat on the couch at the back of the stolen trailer. Steve was driving, telling everyone all about the fight with Vecna, Nancy sat on the passenger's seat and Robin sat with Dustin near the front, along with Max, Lucas, and Erica after you picked them up.

And Eddie, given his home still sported a portal — a slowly retreating one, but it was still there — sat beside you. You put a distance between you both though, pressing yourself against the end of the couch and looking out the window.

You could feel the way his eyes hardly left you, most likely wondering why you were so quiet. Thing is, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Eddie, or talk to him. Anger was bubbling inside you because of what he did, because of how reckless his actions were. You knew the raw fear was lingering too, however.

"Hey guys, where should I drop you off?" Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror.

"I'll go to uh-" Eddie started, but you spoke over him.

"My house, he's coming with me."

"Yeah that- that's exactly what I was going to say." Eddie agreed quickly, his hands incessantly fidgeting with the hem of his green vest.

Your house arrived quickly, you said goodbye to your friends with a tight hug to each of them, making them promise to take care of themselves whilst they made you do the same.

The night was cold as you slowly limped your way up the stone path that lead to your front door. The lights on the house were turned off, you weren't surprised. It was late, you didn't know how late but the whole town seemed to be asleep already, unaware of the evil that had once again been defeated just minutes ago.

Eddie walked close behind you, one hand lingering against his stomach as the other stayed ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You hadn't bothered to lock your front door and for once you were happy about it, your guard dog came running to greet you, making a beeline for the stranger behind you.

"Hello to you too." You grumbled to your dog and turned on the lights in the living room.

"Oh, it's your dog, hey dude." Despite his wounds, Eddie was happy to crouch down and shower your dog with pats. Huge smile on his face as he bit his lower lip, fingers disappearing amongst the fur.

From your place in the hallway, you stole a glance at them. Instantly, tears were prickling at the back of your eyes.

Shaking your head, you walked to your bathroom. Turning on the lights, you winced at how the white tiles reflected the brightness. Bracing yourself on the sink counter, you met your own eyes in the mirror. To say you look awful would be a massive understatement. You had a rather big cut on your cheek that you didn't even know was there before now, droplets of blood and dust covered a good part of your skin, your hair all over the place, and not even counting how your whole body was complaining in pain.

You definitely needed a vacation.

Eddie slowly appeared behind you, brown eyes finally being able to find yours through the mirror. You saw how his hand reached out for you, and how he pulled it back before he could touch you.

"Are you- are you okay?"

And his voice was so gentle, so soft that you wanted to grab him and not let go, ever. You closed your eyes, lowering your head with a sigh and gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.

Eddie shuffled, now standing beside you. He was confused, worried. His body was screaming at him to just hold you, but now, he was afraid of overstepping. "Are we just… not gonna talk?"

"Just sit down." You told him, voice steady.

He nodded, gulping down his feelings as he sat on the edge of the tub and you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.

You opened the small box, rummaging through mainly for antiseptics and bandages. You silently motioned for him to take off his shirt.

Eddie tried to do it on his own, but when the movement of raising up his arms elicited more than one pained grunt from him, you stepped in, carefully lifting his shirt above his head.

Seeing the gashes on his skin got your breath stuck in a massive lump in your throat. It wasn't too bad, but there was still blood and he was still hurt. In the back of your mind, you thought about the first time you answered him on the walkie.

"We can count this as progress right?" Eddie tried, a tender smile gracing his lips, his eyes looking up at you with blown pupils. "Last time you were giving me instructions, now you get to do it yourself." Apparently, he remembered it too.

His words made the tiniest smile come to you, which made his only get bigger.

You treated Eddie's wounds with the utmost care. Cleaning them up the best you could and closing the bigger gaps with white bandages that would soon be painted a slight red.

You didn't notice the unsteadiness of your hands, how they shook over his wounds; or the permanent frown on your eyebrows, or the lone tear that escaped your eye and slid down your cheek when Eddie hissed when you touched a particularly sensitive spot on his skin.

Eddie noticed.

Leaving the small cut on his jaw for last, you crouched in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek and raising a hand to clean his face.

Eddie's gaze was heavy, dark eyes fixated on you. You could see the turmoil going on inside his head.

He winced slightly when the wet cloth made contact with his skin, you mumbled an apology. Being so concentrated on what you were doing, you jumped a little when you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheek, over the dried tear track.

A shaky exhale passed through your nose, you met his eyes and saw they were glistening under the bathroom lights; swimming in the feelings he kept guarded inside his chest.

"Talk to me sweetheart, what's wrong?" Eddie asked tentatively, dry lips hanging open, waiting for an answer that never came. "Please." He tried again, quieter.

As much as you might want to, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You let your hand fall to your lap, avoiding his eyes, you were basically sitting on the floor now.

Eddie pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes roamed your face for a minute and then he was standing up and left the bathroom.

You frowned, but didn't follow after him. You heard as he walked back, your back was still turned to the door and you focused on the sound of his movements.

Eddie sat down against the wall to your right, hissing sharply at the cold tiles, his knees tucked close to his chest. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently dropped the walkie-talkie on your lap, before hugging his knees with one hand, the other holding onto his own walkie.

The grey device on your hands was nothing but a blur through your tears.

You heard the familiar crackle and static. You almost broke down then and there.

"I know you don't wanna talk right now, at least not with me. I just hope you know that I'm here, and I'm- I'm gonna be here whenever you feel ready."

You heard his voice, both from the walkie and from right beside you.

"And… I also hope you know that you're like, the most important person in my life, I think you don't even know how much you've helped me. You're the one thing that takes my mind off of all the bullshit this town has thrown at me… Shit, you make me happy, and maybe you're much more than anything I'd ever deserve; but I'm here for you too, so if you could just- just give me a sign that you're okay, I'll give you peace, or space, or whatever you need. I just need to know if you're okay, please."

Eddie finished, voice growing quieter by the end. He let go of the button on his walkie, making the device sizzle with static.

The tears in your eyes were on the brink of spilling over, chest impossibly tighter. You chanced a glance to the side, to him.

Some tears clung to Eddie's eyelashes, and a few others made their way down, collecting on the end of his chin or stopping at the corner of his lips. His eyes were pleading, burning a hole through your soul.

Running your tongue over your lips, you carefully raised the walkie to your lips. You pressed the button, hesitating only a split second.

"I'm okay, as… okay as one can be after that, but…" You started slowly, each word following a beat of your heart. "Damn it, Eddie, I thought I lost you."

Throwing away the walkie-talkie, you turned your body to him. "Do you have any idea, of the panic I felt when you cut that damn rope? What were you even thinking?"

Eddie put down his own walkie, opening his mouth to answer. You didn't let him;

"It was so- reckless." You uttered out shakily, running a hand through your hair, brows scrunched in anger. "I mean you- you could have fucking died for those damn things if I hadn't gotten there in time, and for what? A little extra time?"

You didn't register you were crying, you didn't register the sobs; and when Eddie reached a hand out for you, you slapped it away. "You don't get to tell me to be careful, or- or say that you can't lose me when you do stuff like that. This goes both ways for fucks sake." Your tone was louder, wobbly, mixed with sobs and tears as you groaned in frustration and hastily wiped your cheeks.

You only noticed that Eddie had successfully managed to grab you when you were pressed against his warm chest. Your head tucked against his neck as both his arms closed around you tightly. Both your legs became a mess of tangled limbs, Eddie lowered his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing you to him and mumbling countless "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" and "it's okay".

His skin was warm under your hands. Your ear, resting just above his heart, allowed you to hear the constant thudding; the reassuring sound slowly but surely calming your trembling body and ragged breathing.

"I never wanted to hurt you. Promise." Eddie spoke against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your body. "I- when I saw the bats, breaking through the door, all I cared about was keeping you safe. I knew I had to draw them away from you and Dustin. Maybe it was selfish but, I couldn't risk them getting through that thing to reach you."

Shaking your head, you pulled away only enough to look at him. Finally being able to take him in, he was just as much of a mess as you were. The sight made you chuckle.

Eddie felt his heart bursting with warmth at the sound of your laugh, a small smile coming to him as well.

You reached up, thumb carefully tracing the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever. He leaned towards your touch. You almost kissed him.

"Just, please promise me you won't do anything this reckless ever again."

Eddie hummed, his hands around your waist tentatively pulling you towards him. "For you, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." His words held a playful tone, accompanied by a cheeky grin. They also held the truth.

"And I'd go after you in a heartbeat." You raised an eyebrow at him, your hand burying in his hair.

"Good, then we got each other's backs on our reckless decisions," Eddie mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips.

He glanced down to your lips with a silent question, a plea. You answered by closing the gap between you, both hands cradling the back of his head and pulling him to you desperately, urging for closeness.

Here, with your body flush to Eddie's, his lips mapping yours in a motion of love; you couldn't be happier for having stumbled upon him on that dead channel.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this story. It was one that took weeks of writing, rewriting, and editing, so feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories

@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #eddie munson x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonedit #joseph quinn #stranger things x reader #st #my story

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calaisreno · 3 months

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Those Who Can't

I've always loved writing, but for a long time thought it was pretentious to call myself a writer. What if someone asked to see what I'm writing? What if they didn't like it? That would make me a terrible writer, I thought, one of those people who go around thinking they're great while everyone is secretly laughing at them.

But I walk in the park every day, and I see people who walk there, too. We're all walkers, even the guy who brings his oxygen tank with him every day, even the woman who sits down to smoke a cigarette before she finishes her walk. The young parents pushing strollers, the women in hijab, the elderly lady who has her hair "done" each week and wears jewellery while she does her doctor-prescribed exercise, the people who are overweight or all lean muscle and bone, the people looking for Pokemon, the business suits walking during their lunch hour. All walking, all walkers.

If you walk, you're a walker. If you write, you're a writer.

It's said that those who can't do something become teachers. As a teacher, I resent the implication that we have all failed at something and now pretend to instruct others how not to fail. But it's true in the sense that we are all learners, never finished learning, and no one knows this better than a teacher. Every day I learn just how much I don't know.

Years ago I was walking down the hall of my school, heading for the copy machine, three minutes from the next bell, and an administrator stopped me.

"Would you like to teach creative writing?" she asked. "We need more elective courses next year."

At the time I was teaching three Latin classes and two freshman English classes. Did I really need another prep?

Could I even do this? Why me? What made me more qualified than the other people in my department? How would I teach it? What would the course description say? Who would take the class?

"Yes," I said.

When I started teaching it in the fall, I didn't have answers to all my questions, but I had a plan. The most frustrating thing, I learned, was teaching people who hadn't signed up for it, and just needed a course to fill a hole in their schedule. I thought writing was easy-- and fun! We could all have a good time here, because it was just about self-growth and imagination.

I learned was that I was not the expert. My students might be terrible writers, might hate every moment of journaling and writing exercises and prompts, but they had ideas, too. They were just too used to thinking their ideas were shit, that creativity wasn't worth anything, that the things that mattered were the things that could get them a good job.

My job, it turns out, was coaxing them to open up and explore ideas, to think divergently, to regard storytelling as more than entertainment. Stories matter; how we tell them makes a difference. I was not an expert. I read a lot and wrote stories for fun. And I became my first pupil.

Nearly everything I learned about writing, I got from teaching it. And I haven't yet reached the point where I felt entitled to call myself a writer. I still sort of cringe when I confess to someone that I write. But I keep writing.

"No writing is a waste of time – no creative work where the feelings, the imagination, the intelligence must work. With every sentence you write, you have learned something. It has done you good. Don't always be appraising yourself, wondering if you are better or worse than other writers." -- Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write

#on writing

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silverwashi · 3 months

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Day one | prompt : hanahaki disease | warning this is as canon compliant as I’ll ever write(in other words Jason dies)

@jasico-challenges

This Bloody Love

When Jason coughs his first petal he doesn't curse Persephone. He doesn't even curse Eros, despite the fact that he would and has cursed the god over the minorist inconvenience. This time it's different, he looks at the bloody petal resting deceptively on his palm and sighs. How could he ever curse a manifestation of his love?

Jason's not particularly surprised. He'd been having coughing fits for months and they only got worse when he was around Nico. It was bound to happen. Eros had always been too invested in Nico and in a way so had Persephone. In a sick way he's glad for it all. A physical manifestation of his love. Proof of his devotion to the boy. He knows Nico wont see it that way. Most people don't. Most people think of the blooms as a disease, the Aphrodite cabin thinks of them as a gift and Jason’s inclined to agree.

Jason used to think loving Nico was as easy as breathing, at least now he can say without a shadow of doubt that it's much, much easier. He hadn't planned on falling in love with Nico, had never really considered falling in love with any one. He was just another cog in the machine, honestly the both of them were- expendable, until suddenly he wasn't. It'd started with meeting Cupid, watching as the boy stood firm, gritting teeth and eyes ablaze and being forced to divulge his most vulnerable secret to a boy who'd been willing to leave him for dead and a god who would love to see his love be the death of him. After that it was impossible to keep himself from falling for Nico.

It was probably a good thing Hades cared for Nico, that Persephone was somewhat fond of him. Without that modicum of protection Jason isn't naive enough to believe Nico wouldn't be in this position now instead. Persephone and Cupid have been planting their blooms in hopeless fools since as long as tragic romance has existed. It's a collaborative effort that Jason can almost appreciate if it weren’t for the way it left an innumerable amount of demigods dead in a blaze of bloody petals.

The weather has already begun to chill and Jason snorts to himself. Winter will come soon and the flowers in his lungs will bloom in full. Fed by his love, this unrequited thing curled inside his chest.

He has a couple of months still until that time comes. He knows how the stories go. He finds Cupid and allows the god to keep his love for himself, or he dies a cold death once winter arrives. Terrible options but then the last one is even worse. Tell Nico how he feels and hope he could fall in love with him as well. Not likely. He'd never put something like this on Nico's shoulders.

Not when Nico already carries too many problems, when he's trying so desperately to move on from his crush on Percy, no Jason could never do that to him.

When Jason dies for Apollo, he’s glad for the fact, let Nico think him a hero rather than another soul he couldn’t save.

Stole the idea of hanahaki disease being a pet project of Persephone and Cupid from a percico fic I never wrote, but basically every now and then Eros and Persephone will find interest in someones love, Persephone will plant the blooms in their lungs and they have 6 months to deal with that love however they please, whether that be forfeiting it to eros or confessing lest they join Persephone in the underworld once her time topside is up. Also I hope everything is tagged correctly I’m working on like 3 separate fics rn trying to catch up after a pretty shitty first part of the month so I’m all frazzle brained :/

#jasicobingochallenge2024 #hanahaki disease #fanfiction #major character death #canonical character death #jasico #nico di angelo #jason grace

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

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Hi i know this is rlly random but i just thoight of it while trying to read cursive. A platonic reader x lesso where reader cant read cursive and since lesso weites in cursive never does the work which leads to a confession and not sure how to finish it x

Incomplete

*Authors note~ I love this idea so much it's gonna be a Drabble because I also don't know what else I could add to it*

Trigger warnings~ dyslexic reader

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

School work was always something you struggled with. Reading was tricky when the words seemed to just blur together so adding in the extra fancy loops and swirls just made it ten times worse. You were embarrassed about how much you struggled, that's why you never told anyone. To afraid of being laughed at and made to feel stupid. You aren't stupid. In fact you were rather bright, especially when it was something spoken. Languages you seemed to excel at the oral portion of it. But literature? Never.

Unfortunately for you, Leonora Less, the teacher for curses and death traps, loved to write in cursive. It came naturally and truly it was magnificent penmanship just like everything else she did. Normally you'd be able to appreciate that, but not when you were drowning in work for her class because you hadn't been able to take notes effectively which meant you were missing chunks. Apparently quite important chunks of information that you needed for the work.

Maybe that's why you weren't confused to be kept behind in your lesson. She wanted to know why you hadn't bothered to do her work and she wasn't going to rest till she knew why. The moment tears started to brim in your eyes she knew this was more than laziness or blatant disobedience. You weren't stupid and she knew that, your verbal answers were always the best of the class. So why wouldn't you do the work? Suddenly it dawned on her.

You were expecting to be shouted at or dragged off to the doom room. After all you'd heard the stories so it was safe to say your confession was evident as you watched her walk to the blackboard. She wrote a sentence in her usual penmanship and asked you to read it out loud. The moment you visibly paled she knew she was on the right track. You did the best to contain your feelings and took a guess based of the lengths of the words and the sentence. You watched as she nodded and flipped the board over making sure to write the words even spaced and simply. No loops or fancy lines. She once again asked you to read it out loud which you did with ease. The gaps helping your brain register each letter one by one.

Leonora watched as you carefully sounded out the sentence, the concentration on your face and the slight fear of being wrong told her everything she needed to know. "Sweetheart? You can't read the first one can you?" She asked gently, not wanting to upset you but wanting to find the best way possible to help you. All you could do is break down and cry, you're secret was out now she would think your stupid.

"Oh little one, why didn't you tell me? I could've made more of an effort to help either changing the way I write or getting a separate sheet just for you." Her suggestions only made you cry more throwing yourself into her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm not dumb, I just I'm sorry god I can't even draw straight lines with rulers maybe I am stupid" you mumbled into her shoulder the hot tears soaking the clothing there.

"You darling, are not dumb your the brightest in your class, you just need some extra support and I'm willing to give it to you. All you have to do is work hard and be the best you can be. Can you do that ?" You nodded at her words. You could do that.

With new measures in place to help you you were now successful in every class you took, lesso keeping your secret between just you and her.

Word count~ 708

#fanfic #anon answered #lady lesso #leonora lesso #sfgae #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #dean of evil #anon requests

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smokersbaby · 1 year

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Yay Smoker requests <3 He needs more love.

May I request a scenario where he gets an anonymous gift for his birthday and finds out it's you? Maybe confessing feelings in the process, could be fluffy or smutty, both are fine. I enjoy your writing all the same, so I leave interpretation to you!

Thank you for the request! I've made scenarios of this in my mind (to make it more realistic as a situation) and I decided to not include smutty things in this short fanfic, but I'm willing to continue this story since the prompt is good! -> this is the second fanfic for the "Smoker's Birthday event", the last one will be published on March 18th! You can find the first one here!

Characters: Smoker TW: none! Just some fluff :) Words count: +900

The gift was wrapped in dark matt paper, with an elegant red ribbon and a little note placed on top of it. There was nothing more on Smoker's desk inside his marine base's office, fortunately, he didn't have documents to deal with on the day of his birthday. He entered the room expecting to find his table empty but it wasn't since there was a present for him. A curious look appeared on Smoker's face. Someone gave him a present? He approached the desk to pick up the gift and to shake it a little: it wasn't quite heavy. As he noticed the little note on top of it, Smoker grabbed the paper to read it. "Happy Birthday Smo-yan ♥" was written on it. Only G-5 marines used to call him like that. Two letters were also written at the bottom of the message (the first letter of your name and surname) but Smoker couldn't connect these capital letters to your name. He started to unbox his gift, what could it be? Probably the most reasonable present he could receive, but yet the one he appreciates the most: cigars. They weren't cheap cigars, tough, Smoker recognized in a second that they were some good ones, probably from another part of the world where they produce the best variety of those. As he grabs one to try it, Smoker hears someone knocking at his door's office. He lets out a huff in disappointment since someone is ruining that moment. "Come in. What do you want?" he says with a rough tone of voice without even knowing who is banging at his door. Your head pops out in the room, you're too excited to be bothered by his tone of voice, furthermore, he's almost every time like that. "Did you like it?" you ask him giggling. He turns toward you since he wasn't facing the door right now. His cheeks turn pink as he sees you standing behind him. "W-what?" he replies as if he didn't understand your question. You point at the cigars on the table. "Did you like those??", a wide smile spreads on your face seeing Smoker already holding one in hand. "Is it yours?" he seems a little shocked knowing that you gave him that gift. "Well, I suppose it's yours now, Smo-yan" you can't help but smile seeing him so surprised. You know he appreciated your gift, but you want him to tell you directly. "Yes, I love it..." he says as he scratches the back of his head, flustered a bit saying that. You were his favourite marine in all the G-5, not because you were the strongest or the most diligent one, there was something about you that made his head dizzy and his heart flutter and he couldn't explain what it was to himself. He isn't the kind of person who likes having people around, but he doesn't feel bothered in any way by your presence, on the contrary, he feels like he wants to have you not only around but also near him. He found himself thinking about you a lot of times, his eyes fixed on you while you were working in the G-5 with him. His thoughts weren't about work at that moment, though, and his cheeks became red every time he realised how inappropriate his thoughts were. "Thank you..." he whispers. You noticed in a moment how flustered he was as soon he expressed his gratitude towards you. It's like he's about to tell you something. "What is it, Smoker? Are you okay?" you tilt slightly your head as you say so. "Y-yes. I was wondering if you... well, if you are free tonight" he asks. You can't believe your ears, you thought he had some kind of feelings towards you but you didn't expect him to expose himself like that. "Are you for real?" your eyes shine as you say so, you can't hide your excitement.

"Yes of course!" he says without hesitation. "Yes, I am... is that a date?" you smirk as you say so. He tries to keep himself calm and serious hiding his shyness. Smoker comes towards you and gazes into your eyes. "It is, this whole time I've wanted to ask you."

Your knees tremble a bit as you look up at him, raising your head to look him in the eyes, he's standing right in front of you. The butterflies in your stomach flutter a lot, Smoker's presence made you feel that way every time you were around him, but you never felt intimidated by him like everyone else once.

At that exact moment that sensation was stronger than ever, probably it was already love and you didn't know. His hand moves your hair away from your face and places it behind your ear, you can't move at all at that moment as you are hypnotized by his moves. He smiles, that's so rare of him that you smile back instinctively.

"I'll see you at nine, then?" he asks. "Sure" you reply with joy in your voice. He takes a step back realizing how close to you it is and blushes a bit.

You can't help but chuckle while you wave at him exiting his office, knowing he's looking forward to seeing you tonight. And so do you.

#one piece #smoker op #smoker #one piece smoker #smoker one piece #captain smoker #smoker x reader #smoker x you #one piece fanfiction #fanfic oneshot #one piece fanart

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hannahlikeso741 · 10 months

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Overdue Masterlist

Whelp, it is about time I did this as it is clear as day my written works are being scattered across Tumblr and A03 so here is a clear record. Holy Crap I did a lot for the Hogwarts Legacy Fandom.

Hogwarts Legacy Fic List

SFW

Series

Sins of Our Parents (Ongoing, SFW for now) (Sebastian X Aurelia Gray with past Garreth X Aurelia. Also featuring OC X OC)

Summary: The year is 1920 where rules are starting to change and a new generation of students have taken over Hogwarts from their parents that came before.

Meet Arielle Sallow, the youngest daughter of Sebastian Sallow and Aurelia Gray (F!MC) and Henry Weasley, the youngest son of Garreth Weasley who is now the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. Forming an unlikely friendship, their world turned upside down when Arielle's parents come on board to teach at Hogwarts on their 6th year. An uneasy tension follows that prompts Arielle and Henry to find out what happened during their parent's time at Hogwarts.

Will the truth be darker than expected? If so, will their friendship survive?

Oneshots :

Prove yourself to me (Sebastian/Reader, being dates at a ball)

Summary: To cheer up the mood after exams, Hogwarts have decided that hosting a ball is a good thing. (This fic is an excuse to write about Victorian balls and feeling the same but never admitting it.)

Confessing in the Undercroft (Sebastian X Theadora, my continuation of @solemn-marauders 's Patronus story)

Summary: Thea finally understood what Patronuses mean . She needs to find Sebastian quick.

Poems:

She wears Honeydukes on her skin (Sebastian X Anna Moon, For @silverxstardust) A Gaunt is never Worthy of Love (Unrequited Ominis/Reader, For @emptycauldron)

HL Character Reactions:

HL Boys Smelling Female MC's Perfume - Part 1, Part 2 HL Girls Smelling Male MC's Perfume- Part 1, Part 2 HL Boys wedding Vows to GN!MC One Song to my Desire (HL Boys and their desire to Female MC, with Song list) Poems from A Secret Lover ( HL Boys being MC's secret lover)

AI Audio Scripts :

Sebastian smells Anna in his Amortentia (For @silverxstardust) - Link here Proposal scene from Drag me to Despair (Created by @pandanscafanfiction) - Link here

NSFW

Series:

Drag Me To Despair (Sebastian X My fem!MC, Aurelia Gray. Sebastian X Poppy and Garreth X My fem!MC) (Complete)

Summary: For Sebastian, meeting the new 5th year Slytherin girl, Aurelia Gray has been nothing short of eventful. But since using Dark Magic, he has been fighting those little whispers that creep in his sleep.

Now entering 6th year and they enter adulthood, He sees Aurelia in a way he cannot describe. With the gossip that surrounds Hogwarts, how will Sebastian keep his secrets? And who really is Aurelia Gray, and why is she so willing to follow him?

(Warning : Contains spoilers, BDSM and smut with underage teens)

Old Wounds Hurt (Durmstrang Sebastian X Female Slytherin Reader) (Complete)

Summary : After what happened to you during your 5th year, Sebastian only left a note saying he wasn't coming back to Hogwarts. After you thought you got over him, a tournament of dueling and Quidditch will be held between Hogwarts and the Durmstrang Institute students on your 7th year. But the new, top student of Durmstrang is beginning to open wounds you thought were healing.

(Warning: Contains Smut between 18 year olds)

Oneshots:

We Only Have Each Other (Sebastian X Female Hufflepuff OC, Marie)

Summary: A request for a bloodpact between Fem MC and Sebastian, both turning dark.

(Warning : Contains Smut and blood)

Public Smut - (Garreth x Female MC)

Summary: Inspired by @greedyforgarreth 's public sex prompt. Title sells itself.

Poems:

Tell me I'm Wrong- Sebastian X Female MC (For @silverxstardust)

Summary : Female MC isn't satisfied with her current partner, and keeps turning to Sebastian. Written in Sebastian's POV.

(Warning: Contains swearing and mentions of smut.)

AI Audio Scripts :

Female MC giving a lapdance to Sebastian (For @silverxstardust) Christmas in Feldcroft, a section from Drag me to despair. (Created by @pandanscafanfiction)

#sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #character reacts #hogwarts legacy characters #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #masterlist #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow audio #hogwarts legacy audio

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blackstarchanx3new · 10 months

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FSR rambles...THE FIFTH ONE???

It dawned on me while I work on the 2nd flashback comic in a row I could talk about the scene between Blue and Green. I will probably have less interesting/insightful things to say about this chapter since it was mostly "Aftercare" for all the BS I put yall through with the Link chapter. X'D

I actually EXTENDED this scene from it's OG length not sure how obvious that is though. We all needed to heal. UwU Mostly me actually lmfao. I write obnoxiously fluffy shit after dark shit to make me feel better. X'D

IS IT TONAL WIPLASH!? MAYBE!? DO I CARE???? NOOOOOOO.

Jumping into this page after the last one it gives the impression Blue talking yanked Green out of his thoughts about Link/the past few days leading up to Link pulling the sword.

Twice now someone has warded off Dark Link just by talking to the person he's affecting. Previous being Shadow not so elegantly yelling at Vio till he woke the hell up but he was way deeper in in than Green is here.

Onto the more pressing matter of this page though:

Green feels responsible for taking care of everyone and was worried about what Vio was going to go do once he left the house: Note, we SAW what Shadow and Vio were up too but Green has NO CLUE. If he knew I feel like he'd be more concerned about the freakin' panic attack oof.

Vio just said he was going for a walk and hasn't come back for presumably hours. Right after the split too and with someone who is DUBIOUS at best. The situation kinda just sucks.

Blue gets annoyed with Green's stubbornness offering to take his place in waiting for Vio. The millionth sign he cares about Vio a lot despite his previous ranting.

Dude just decides to concedes to sitting with Green cause it's easier than trying to get him to sleep. Despite him OBVIOUSLY needing it.

Fair question to ask all things considered...

Not much to say story wise but art wise Blue is very cute and his super long side burns are one of my favorite things about him outside of his huge eyebrows. Yall will know weird eyebrows are a thing I enjoy drawing if you've seen my art for a long time. XD

That hug went on a little too long lmao. Blue's kind of shy about physical affection and I think that's cute.

Blue doesn't wanna be Link, like at all. He must have also caught Vio staring at the sword's pedestal because he knows Vio had thoughts about placing it earlier and knew Green had paranoia about Vio putting the sword back while on the "Walk"

Blue's perceptive.

Green says the gayest thing he possibly could prompting one of my favorite lines from Blue in this entire comic "Why am I the only normal one???" He's projecting his own insecurities about being "weird" onto the Vio and Green.

He really wanted the split to be the key to solving all their/Link's problems. Unlucky for him it just makes 4 times more issues oop.

Blue ain't an idiot. He can tell Green's not doing too well. UNLIKE VIO GREEN'S ACTUALLY HONEST RIGHT OFF THE BAT WITH HIS PROBLEMS/FEARS.

Blue decides he wants to be the 2nd most level headed character in this comic outside of Shadow Link.

Blue's a true bud.

Blue how dare you capture Green's heart. X'D Vio and Green are both desperate for comfort. I find Green and Vio were the ones affected by Link's depression the most.

Vio harbors a LOT of regret and anxiety. Green feels overwhelming pressure to do what Link did before the split while being "Diet Link".

Vio's less good at dealing with and communicating emotions are hard for the purple boy. Green doesn't have this problem and is with someone who gets what he's going through right away while Shadow wasn't sure WHAT was the problem when Vio started to break down.

Green never gets to that point at least not here.

Green and Blue also don't have the utter BAGAGE Vio and Shadow do lmao so that probably helps.

Green and Vio got baggage together that will be unpacked later. ;)

Lol Green's confession is cute. Blue's a lot less comfortable saying stuff quite like that. Red's the MOST comfortable saying that kind of thing so maybe this scene is OOC but Green's insanely difficult to characterize so I'm doing whatever I want with him. X'D

Blue hasn't been slick at all about his feelings towards Vio let's be real and Green calls him out.

Shadow Link pisses Blue off and I'm so giddy to show off more of WHY that is. (It's deeper than he's jealous which you can probably figure from his dialogue.)

Also just goes to show Link himself still harbored tough feelings around Shadow Link deeper than Vio's emotional baggage.

While Vio was in denial he was still alive despite the obvious fact he was there the whole time and the notion they could ever meet again, even HOPING they wouldn't, he still showed fondness towards Shadow and was happy to be around him.

Blue actively doesn't like Shadow and has been vocal about that fact. If Blue calling him a "Bitch" and a "Bastard" didn't make that clear enough.

Green you'll notice only at first mentions wanting Vio to come back but switches to mentioning them both in the next page. He also was the one who clarified Shadow was welcome to stay with them and was apart of their team. Showing a sort of neutral leaning on positive tone to Shadow's existence.

Red's relationship with Shadow is nonexistent at this point but will be explored later so I can't speak on it as of rn. Red hasn't had much of a role but I will point out I did like drawing him in the BG of these pages. XD He's still around just sleepy.

Blue's ability to sense danger is such an interesting thing about him. Like, that's so useful I wish we got to see it more in the manga.

I appreciated Blue way more as a character after drawing these pages and it made me change how I wrote him in certain scenes in the script X'D

I want him to have just as much depth as Vio and Shadow, because while Vidow had a strong focus at the START the whole of the comic leans on: A sequel to FSA vibe.

We're left on a cliff hanger for what the hell Blue's afraid of...Vaati perhaps?

We'll see.

Blue being protective of Green was smth I thought would be cute, but Green also trusts his judgment.

Also smth that will be touched on btw and I'm sure yall have noticed is: Where the hell is Princess Zelda/what is she up too. Considering she got a letter from Link.

#four swords adventures #four swords manga #four swords returns #shadow link #four swords returns au #loz #loz fsr au #four swords #FSR rambles

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spider-bren · 11 months

Note

I 100% support your klaber simping. PLEASE anything that has klaber x reader (idk about gender maybe slight fem preference). It is such a shame that there are like no stories about him. im VERY uncreative so i can only think of a few basic prompt ideas: dating headcanon when on the same side vs siding with indy or maybe some angst about fighting with him when trying to convince him to settle down with you somewhere instead continuing to work for Voller

i REALLY dont care i just NEED stories with him

I'm so glad I'm not the only one. Some people are still sleeping on the greatness that is Boyd Holbrook. I am very glad to be doing my first ask for Klaber! So thank you for this. Feel free to give me more or if you just wanna scream about Klaber/Boyd. I LOVE how you said you don't care you just need stories with him. Honestly: Mood.

So here you go. I hope you enjoy. EXTREMELY happy to do more. Give me 5 more prompts (or maybe 10) I need him and I need to write him.

I do also ask that you please reblog my work when I do post so that we can get more people to post stories or give prompts. Klaber deserves the love :)

CHOOSE ME LIKE YOU CHOOSE HIM

Pairing: Klaber x Fem!Reader (can also be read as GN!Reader)

Prompt: maybe some angst about fighting with him when trying to convince him to settle down with you somewhere instead continuing to work for Voller

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Canon Characterization - Nazi, Love Confessions, Mention of Size Difference

Summary: He didn't want to leave you. But he was a part of something greater than himself. You ask him to stay.

Dawn broke through the curtains of your apartment window. You were still half asleep when you felt the bed shift next to you. Klaber was moving to get up. The warm rays of light caught his golden head of hair that made it look almost white. His blue eyes fixed on yours as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"I have to go," he whispered, moving to get dressed.

You watched as he slipped on his grey suit pants and fastened the buttons of his crumpled white shirt. You rolled out of the bed before he left for the door. Blocking his path, he eyed you up and down in your underwear with a smile thinking you wanted one more kiss before he left.

"Eli, can we talk?"

"I only have a few minutes or else I'm gonna be late to meet my boss." He checked his watch impatiently.

But then seeing how seeing how serious you looked, he placed his hands on your shoulders. He was taller than you, bigger, broader. You liked that about him. You liked how he could tower over you and press you against walls. He wasn't threatening or ever violent.

You know what he did for work though. Henchman to Jürgen Voller. Lapdog for a Nazi.

You didn't care who he was. Only that he loved you and made you feel like you were special. He made time for you even in his busy schedule when your other boyfriends never did.

"What's wrong, baby? I can see you're stressed out. I can be a little late. Tell me what's wrong."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I don't want you to fly so much anymore. I miss you."

He sighed and rubbed your shoulders and arms. "Sweetheart, wherever he asks me to do, wherever he wants me to go, I have to do it."

"But you don't. You can stay with me. Can't you? You could choose me. You could settle down. We can move in together. No more back and forth and hotels. We can be together like a real couple."

"We are a real couple." He frowned.

"You know what I mean! I know this job is important to you. You want to belong to something. He helped you find yourself, find your place in this world and I don't ever judge you for it. I would never hate you for that. I want you to be happy and I want you to feel like you're at home and yourself. But...I want it to be with me. I want you to fight for me like you fight for him. I want you to run where I run, go where I go. Is that too much to ask for? If it is, then what are we doing? What future do we have?"

Klaber fixed his eyes on the floor. His shoulders lifted making him looker bigger as he let out a heavy breath. He let go of you and rubbed his thumb on his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I owe everything I am to Voller. He gave me this life. I would be nowhere without him. I am who I am today because of him."

"I know you feel you're indebted to him, but what about me? I'm not just someone you fuck occasionally."

"No, you're not. Jesus, you're not. What am I supposed to do? Huh? I can't just---" He shook his head, tongue dragging angrily across his bottom lip.

There was a silence that caused a fissure inside your chest. He could walk out that door and you'd never see him again. He could choose a damn Nazi over you. You watched as his body settled and relaxed. His breathing evened out and his gaze was back on you.

"You're right, baby. I can't expect you to wait for me all the time. It's dangerous work, I know, and you're probably worried about me every day. Look, I will talk to Voller. I will make this work. I want us to work. You make me happy. Okay? Not this job. I got into this when I was nineteen and yes, it has it perks at best and at worst it's just a pain in the ass. But now, I found you, I want to be with you. I do want to live with you."

"You do? You mean it?" You pressed up against him, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to stretch up and lock your hands around his neck.

His large hands landed on your waist and pulled you in to his body.

"I do. I love you, y/n. Nothing can stop that. Not even Voller."

#klaber #fem reader #gn reader #fem reader x klaber #gn reader x klaber #boyd holbrook #indiana jones 5 #my fic

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barkspawn · 1 year

Note

what about farmer finding elliott's secret book of poems written for them (before they started dating) and he confesses? :)

HI I updated this a little oops

Ooooooooh. Tbh I wasn't actually expecting a response but I am all for this prompt. I'm better at writing the farmer being pre-established. I'll use my farmer Amelia for the time being. If you prefer a reader insert, lmk.

Be nice, I'm rusty :|

Alright look. This is barely edited bc I'm mid Depression Session. I loved writing it though and I'd love more. ♡

Amelia ran her fingers over the edge of the large wooden desk in the corner of Elliott's shack. She couldn't help but admire the detail of the books littering his desk. It was almost like they were plucked from the past, the leather covers worn and well-loved. A crumpled piece of paper sat at the upper edge of the desk, wedged between the wood and the wall. She picked it up and tossed it in the small bin next to the desk. There were only a few lines written before they were crumpled, their ink smeared in frustration.

Elliott was going to meet her here at any minute. He had to finish up at the library, urging her to head inside and wait for him in the relative warmth of the shack. Still, she drew her coat tighter around herself as she started walking curiously around his home. Books were strewn across the floor in various states of use. There were some open, lying face down as well as other, barely-touched books in neat (well, neat in comparison) piles. As tempted as she was to clean them up, she loved this about Elliott. It was clear that he was passionate about his work. Truthfully, she had realized she had feelings for him just a couple of weeks ago, but there was no way in hell she could tell him. Besides, Elliott was all but married to his novel. To even imagine putting herself in the way of that... well, she couldn't.

She continued her slow pace around the room, her eyes drawn to a small book on the edge of his bed. It was a dark red leather and was small enough to fit in his pocket. Perhaps ideas he had throughout the day?

She couldn't help but laugh to herself. There was a particular story regarding a small crab that had taken shelter in the writer's pocket. With the worn state the book was in, she couldn't help but imagine it in the same pocket.

Against her better judgment, she found herself picking up the book, and sitting on the very edge of his bed. She opened it, flipping through the first few pages. There were notes and seemingly random phrases like "like a storm: grey" and "deep blue as the sea - wavy?" Provided he wasn't angry with her for snooping, she'd have to ask him the secret to deciphering his ideas. She noticed the name of her farm, "Stardop Fields," on the adjacent page. Her brows knit together, confusion playing at her expression. Why would he need the name of her farm? Unless his memory is really that poor..

With a deep breath, she resolved to put it back down, haphazardly flipping quickly through the pages once more as she closed it. Her name caught her eye buried in the pages, about a third of the way in. She tried quickly to find the page she glimpsed, unsure if she should be afraid or excited to be a part of his writing.

There it was. In the center of one of the pages, he had written her name in a beautiful flowing script. She let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, almost immediately holding her next as she turned the page, her name written again at the top. The passage was written beautifully and with care. All sense of urgency left her as she carefully read:

A virtue

blood red lips

I burn like fire for your pulse,

connected, connected, to never drown

I offer you my kiss

I melt in your love

She froze, completely shocked. Surely, it couldn't mean... No. With her hands trembling, she turned the page, her gaze landing once more on her name; though this one was accompanied by "Ode to.." she traced her fingers over the page as she read:

I pray for your kiss,

connected together, I share with you

joined together, I share with you

I melt in your soul.

This time, she gave no pause in her reading, turning the page immediately, her eyes falling once more to the beautiful script:

A tear in the eye

I see the night in your grey eyes

as the pulse warms for always

transforms like time, silver

I starve for your love,

joined, bound, to never force

I share with you my soul

my kiss, my Ame--

Her reading was cut off abruptly, the door flying open as Elliott came through the door, unbuttoning his coat as he hurriedly explained, "Amelia, I am so sorry that took so long. You see, I keep many journals and it seems that I've lost one of the most impor-"

He froze as his gaze finally fell in her direction, falling on the book for a moment before his eyes met hers. She watched as his cheeks grew pink, this time not of the cold outside. There was silence there between them as they stared at one another. Amelia couldn't find any words. She was a mixture of emotions, butterflies in her belly, and light burning in her widened eyes. Everything in her wanted to believe that this meant that he had feelings for her, that he had felt the same. She slowly stood and, unsure what to do or say, she closed the book and extended it out to him. His eyes moved down, focused on the journal. He took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers in the exchange. Even the small bit of contact increased the butterflies in her stomach ten-fold. She couldn't stop the light intake of breath at the sensation.

"Oh, you... seem to have found it," he started as he gingerly touched the cover, clearly trying to bring humor in to drown out the quiet. Still, he continued, his voice quiet, "did you.." he cleared his throat, "did you read any of them..?"

Amelia's heart seemed to be beating out of her chest; she could feel the heartbeat in her chest. She didn't like how quiet he was, he always had comments on everything. She gave a small nod, wanting to tell him everything: that the poems were beautiful and how it made her even more certain about how she felt for him. She opened her mouth to attempt to say something, though when she tried, his hand went up in protest. He was obviously just as nervous as she was. Before she could talk, he had started, his voice careful, "Amelia, firstly, I'm sorry. This was not how I wanted you to find out," he took a deep breath, finally meeting her eyes, "were it not incredibly obvious based on my writings, I have... feelings for you. I tried to ignore them for a long time as I was absolutely certain you would have no such feeling for me. I have hope that I have not ruined our friendship as you are still standing here with me," in what seems like a split decision, he stepped forward, taking her hands in his. Relief overcame him as she did not pull away, his stance visually relaxing. In fact, her head was swimming in thoughts of how this had to all be a dream, though she felt his hands, still cool from the winter air, so clearly in her own. He smiled slightly as she ran her thumb over his knuckles, giving her hands a gentle squeeze, "it seems for once, I am at a loss for words."

Amelia inhaled, not willing to let go of her last bit of courage. When she spoke, her voice was soft, partially quieted by the lump that formed in her throat, "Elliott.. would you like to go out to dinner with me?" There was a small pause before, with a small smile, she added, "please?"

He scanned her features, her stormy grey eyes and her impossibly wavy hair- still tinged a light teal from the last time she colored it, her natural color prominent now in the growth. Her eyes were just a little wider than usual and she stayed focused on him, almost like he'd vanish if she dared to look away. It was after a long moment that he thought to speak, unable to hide the smile that formed, "why, I would love that. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could treat you to dinner tonight..? Perhaps a stroll along the beach to follow?"

This time, she laughed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "I would love that," she repeated, suddenly very aware of the burning pink of her cheeks. He would have been blind not to notice. He raised her hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles as his eyes never left hers.

"Then it's a date," he finished as she felt the heat rise up to her ears. She smiled, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she nodded, feeling giddy with excitement.

Suddenly, she pulled her hand from his and turned to her bag, unlatching the top and fishing out the plastic tube, a vibrant duck feather held inside to keep it from being crushed among her things.

"I almost forgot! I brought you a-" she was cut off as she turned, a moment lost as she tried to figure out what was happening. The tube fell from her hand as she realized that he was kissing her. There was an eruption of butterflies that seemingly filled her whole body. In truth, he couldn't help himself. The woman he felt so strongly for had said that she felt the same. They were going on a date tonight! Emotion and inspiration took over then, taking his chance the moment she turned. He had always acted swiftly on any ounce of inspiration, but this was new. This was raw emotion; pure happiness at the idea that such an incredible woman would choose him. He'd wanted to wait for the end of the date to be traditional, romantic even, but the feeling overwhelmed him and he needed to feel her touch.

His lips were soft, his action gentle, almost as if she were glass that could shatter at any given moment. She felt the pad of his thumb brush gently over her cheekbone before he let his whole hand to rest on her cheek, his other hand resting on her arm. As he pulled back, he straightened himself out. She hadn't realized he had to bend to kiss her, even if it wasn't much. He was nearly a whole foot taller than her. She would have to be embarrassed about that later. Perhaps when she regained her breath and any coherent thought.

A frown pulled at the corner of his lips at her silence, eyes carefully scanning her face as he kept his voice barely above a whisper, "Yoba, I'm sorry... I don't know what came ov-"

She cut him off then, pulling him down to her suddenly by the collar. Her lips met his once more, a little less gentle and graceful than she intended. He was quick to return her kiss, his other hand moving to her waist in an attempt to pull her closer. Her right hand had come to rest just under his jacket where she had pulled him close while her left hand made its way through his hair in an effort to show him how she wanted this and did not want this to stop. Running her fingers through his hair was something she had wanted to do since the first time they'd met. With that thought, she smiled against his lips before remembering her gift. Ultimately, it was the reason for her visit today. Reluctantly, she pulled back to meet his eyes. Her voice was quiet, almost breathless with a playful undertone.

"I brought you a duck feather, by the way," she tilted her head slightly to indicate the plastic tube she had dropped.

A light chuckle escaped his lips then, his breath warm as he never moved his eyes away from hers, "that's a beautiful gift, thank you."

Ao3 for the one shots: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43638475

yes, yes i am getting ahead of myself

#sdv #stardew valley #fanfic #stardew #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliott #elliott stardew valley #writing prompt #barkspawn #please send more #this was so fun #oh look a one-shot #barkspawn oneshot

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parkitaco · 8 months

Note

can I ask for details abt this amnesia fic that once has so much promise? 👀

also fun fact I too have an amnesia fic that once held so much promise but is now functionally abandoned until further notice. hive mind moment

hello elli YES omg idk what it is apparently amnesia fics are just that fucking difficult. or smth. idk but!! yes i will share everything that is still in my brain involving this fic (under the cut tho i'm abt to infodump so hard)

this idea was originally planted by an anon who left a very cute little amnesia prompt in my inbox (anon if you're out there i'm so sorry i swearrr). i've since deviated from the og prompt which was fairly lighthearted (amnesia will sees mike hovering over him obsessively and assumes he's his bf. and mike short circuits. which was an excellent idea my brain just wouldn't accept it) and went for angst bc well. i'm like that. and basically my idea was just that will wakes up in mike's room very recently post-apocalypse (the wheeler's house has been a base in the apocalypse and mike offered his room bc of course he did), having been in a coma for a few months. the idea behind it was that vecna / the hive mind tried to possess him again, but this time will was strong enough to fight back, and though he couldn't fight *through* the possession he was at least able to kind of incapacitate himself so that he couldn't be used to hurt his friends (yay angst!!). while he was asleep the others managed to stop vecna / kill the UD, hence freeing will from possession. yay he's awake!! unfortunately, since he was in the coma for so long, the virus ate away parts of his consciousness, namely his memories.

basically i took s2 and birthdaygate and made it bigger and more dramatic and worse. yay parker!!

the way i was planning on having will's memories come back is very slowly and methodically (i.e. it takes him a while to remember stuff but once he does it pretty much sticks), mainly through him being reminded of them through sensory recognition or people sharing stuff - he also has vague feelings attached to people, and can definitely recognize when a face belongs to someone important to him (cough cough mike wheeler) but he doesn't remember names or details and this drives him INSANE.

the bylerification of this would be mike, post-apocalypse and broken up with el and having had some Very Important Realizations, frantically fumbling trying to give will love confessions and apologies when will literally doesn't remember any of their fights. so not only does mike have to apologize for everything, he also has to make will relive it first, and Then hope that will doesn't reject him. (hehe.) this sucks for him, but yada yada it all works out and they make out sloppy. the end

i abandoned this fic for a lot of reasons, many of which i no longer remember, but the main ones were a., that is a lot of backstory for a story that ultimately doesn't have much plot beyond Mike Is Stressed And Will Is Confused, and b., at the time i was kind of burnt out on writing/reading apocalypse stuff, and c., i wasn't a big fan of the concept of everyone saving the world with will still incapacitated bc i know my boy is more of a key character than that!!! (this is small and ik people could get over it for This One Fic but it Really Bothered me Ok)

that being said,,, writing all this out did remind me of how much i liked the concept and i think taking the pressure off of myself for a couple months did help, as did taking a break from apocalypsey concepts for a while. so. Maybe. and that is all i will say about that <33

#so sorry elli this is probably more than u ever needed to know #and if i did publish this fic ever it is now 100% spoiled #but. it's fine #i do have 15k written of scenes that i really do like #there's just more plot that needs to be added and at the time i was working on this that felt like an impossible task #. anyway #so sorry. but u did ask so this is really on you #and if you ever get ur amnesia fic going again i will be the no. 1 supporter !!!

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mdccanon · 2 years

Text

Why are "Suspected Traitor Midoriya Izuku" fanfics so painfully cliché and nonsensical?

The ONLY villain Izuku could be implicated in working with is Stain.

I thought this little subgenre of the fandom would produce a FEW interesting deviating AUs about Midoriya starring in The Fugitive. Instead, what I found was a poorly-written story template that erases 40% of Seasons 1 and 2’s plot points to make Hurt, No Comfort fanfiction about whumpee Izuku Midoriya having panic attacks from police brutality, and then attempting suicide.

The trend popped up in 2020, during the Overhaul Arc, but the fanfics feature so little in-story information and focus mostly on information from the first 5 episodes, with a hard emphasis on middle school. It feels like a MHA whump enthusiast started telling their community about an anime featuring a bullied crybaby and they flocked over. These stories have so little understanding of the actual anime, they read more like the writers only understand the story by other people’s fanfiction. Clips of the show, at best.

So, below are common flaws in these whump stories, how they could be improved, but ultimately how dropping the "He's working with the League" plot point and having them suspect him of working with Stain is far more plausible in-story.

This is all with the FULL UNDERSTANDING that these stories are supposed to be about an innocent Izuku being persecuted, betrayed, and heartbroken so that he can fall into despair, be abused, cry crystal tears of suffering… I’m into that shit. I had already leafed through a hundred or so stories of Bakugou and Shigaraki abusing him. And I wouldn't have read SO many of THESE stories if I wasn't looking for good content... It's just that even the most popular stories on AO3 are SO weaksauce.

Elevate yourself. Do better.

Ignoring Police Procedure because the Authors Prefer Nonsensical Accusations

The authors want to get to police/UA staff beating Izuku in an undisclosed basement as soon as possible… Which I wholeheartedly appreciate, but I suppose its a matter of taste that I don't share their opinion that Izuku's heartbreak is sweeter if the accusations make no sense.

I’d prefer either changing key details in the story so that the investigation has a plausible accusation (actually write the League framing Izuku) OR using the literal plot of the anime and being clever about what accusation could be made and by whom.

I read a story where Izuku was framed with a video of him setting fire to the school and because Aizawa and All Might were so mad, they skipped investigation and a TRIAL and just held Izuku in a sensory deprivation prison for five years. The League has a shapeshifter AND a clone-maker, y'all. I did a find search of the entire story. No one mentions Toga or Twice, not even once.

Story Ideas:

At summer camp, the League could implicate Izuku as their mole and reveal that kidnapping Bakugou was part of Izuku's payment. Hell, let Izuku run into the portal, restrain him, kill Bakugou, throw Izuku to All for One so that he can be miraculously healed of ALL of his injuries and tell him, "Good luck getting All Might to believe you weren't working with us." Because if the story is ALWAYS going to be "no one bothers to call Tsukauchi The Human Lie Detector until after they've mentally and physically scarred Izuku for life" ... could the prompt for the betrayal be a bit more interesting?

Or after USJ, Bakugou tells Aizawa Izuku’s “I was given a quirk” confession that, when paired with All Might telling him about All for One, leads Aizawa to quickly and quietly detain Izuku. (Which is also a good cautionary tale about why the hell Kacchan gets to be in the loop but Aizawa has no idea what's going on.) I mean, c'mon, the plot of MHA is basically begging for Izuku to confess that he was given All Might's power and Aizawa not believe him because, hello, All Might clearly still has his quirk.

Erasing 40% of the story to make a plot-holes doesn’t make Izuku’s heartbreak any sweeter. Making characters OOC requires massaging the plot, anyway. If you’re going to change Aizawa to foaming-at-the-mouth irrational or change Class A to being “so scared” no one assumes Izuku must have been coerced into working with Shigaraki information… the LEAST you could do is come up with an interesting red herring to explain why an underground hero lost the ability to do a proper investigation?

Izuku Writes Creepy Notebooks

For most of these stories, this is the only evidence that Izuku was working with the League, in some stories, Aizawa beats Izuku for simply having the notebooks; thinking he’s League traitor isn’t even mentioned! I can see why the bloodthirsty whump writers like this: the notebooks are connected to middle school bullying, so Class A resenting them can quickly segue into Izuku having PTSD panic attacks and running to make his first suicide attempt.

These stories also completely ignore that Izuku asks people questions. Authors will write that Izuku wrote several pages about Uraraka but never, ever actually talked to her to answer his questions: Would she lose her quirk if she loses even one finger (like Shigaraki)? Should Hatsume make protection gloves? How about Ashido, Bakugou and Todoroki? Would Todoroki's powers still work with protective gloves like Bakugou?

But, am I a bad person for wanting a bit more meat on this bone? Instead of Aizawa/Nezu expelling/arresting Izuku simply because they fear the notebooks could be used for evil in the future, doesn’t it sound plausible to believe and heartbreaking for Izuku to have to prove that "most of Stain's victims are profiled in the last few of Izuku's notebooks." (It would still be circumstantial evidence since, if Izuku writes profiles on hundreds of heroes across 15 notebooks, some of them being Stain’s victims is just par for the course. But I prefer this idea over “Izuku OPENLY writes in his notebooks every day, but doesn’t that just prove he’s the traitor even more because we’d assume no traitor would be stupid enough to spy on us in our faces? Gyah! His evil genius is staggering.")

PS: If Bakugou points out that shitty Deku has been making these notebooks for so long, #1 is more of a coloring book of his favorite heroes... he either gets called a traitor too and thrown into prison to be beaten or everyone's response is simply "But they exist! They EXIST! They are creepy!"

Let’s Ignore the USJ/Internship Plot, Even Thought the Fanfic is about the USJ/Internship

Izuku passed on information about Class A to Shigaraki... even though a major plot point of USJ was that Shigaraki didn't know anything about Class A's abilities.

Insist that Izuku’s multiple, painful self-sacrificing moments were all just covers for his evil plans. Either that, or don’t mention them at all, because pointing out that he broke his legs to help All Might sounds like too good of a reason to trust him.

Let’s erase All for One, Gran Torino, and the Nomus from the story because we either need All Might to assume Izuku told Shigaraki about his injury or the story features a quirkless Izuku and the accusation that All for One was rewarding him with a secret quirk is too logical to be allowed. All Might/Nezu/Aizawa cannot be allowed a plausible reason to assume Shigaraki seduced Izuku to the dark side.

Completely ignore that Tsukauchi The Human Lie Detector wrote Izuku’s statement.

Izuku did Summer Camp… Because

Since this is the arc that introduces the concept of “a traitor in their midst,” this trend just crammed Izuku into it without making it fit. So now most of the 400 fanfics are stuck rewriting a few templates of Class A and the teachers accusing him for no reason and ignoring what actually HAPPENED at the summer camp to do so. Because… he has notebooks…

Again, insist that Izuku’s multiple, painful self-sacrificing moments were all just covers for his evil plans. Either that, or don’t mention them at all. Because two broken arms, going out of his way to save a little boy, coming up with plans to save several classmates, and contributing to the arrests of two villains sound like too good of reasons to trust him.

Izuku TOLD the Pussycats who the target and was part of the vanguard protecting him. Without that message, Mr. Compass would have still captured Bakugou with NO ONE being the wiser. No, let’s go one step deeper. Izuku could have left Bakugou behind during the final exam so that he would be forced to take remedial lessons. If the kids who failed really were staying behind, Izuku would give that address. If it was just a logical deception, Izuku would give that address.

Honestly, I've never seen a "he told the League where the summer camp was" story that actually talked about what happened at the summer camp. These fanfictions will have CHAPTERS of Izuku having panic attacks from middle school days and never mention Bakugou... the reason for Izuku's lack of self-worth. Authors will give Izuku trust issues with teachers to make his panic attacks because of Aizawa more heartbreaking... and never, ever mention that Bakugou is the reason teachers didn't help him.

Completely ignore that Tsukauchi The Human Lie Detector wrote Izuku’s statement.

Overhaul is Such a Touching and Courageous Arc that it is Never Mentioned

Sometimes, sometimes... the whole "Gyah, Izuku makes creepy notebooks so lets turn on him!" plot happens after the Overhaul Arc... But his actions during the Arc are NEVER mentioned.

I do recall two stories: One where Aizawa accused him of working for Stain, the League and Overhaul at the same time and when Izuku points out that makes no sense, he gets punched and told not to talk back... And in another, they just accuse Izuku being the mole who informed the yakuza of the sting operations... and no one, not even the Big Three mention how little sense that makes.

Everyone shut up. Beating the every-loving shit out of Kaiju Overhaul and single-handedly saving the tortured girl are nothing compared to creepy notebooks.

Assuming Stain and Izuku are mentor and pupil

By using the plot of the anime...

Nezu/Aizawa/All Might assuming middle school Deku imprinted on Stain the moment he heard a “All Might alone is worthy” speech is a much better assumption than … oh, right, without All for One in the story, there is no logical explanation how NEET Shigaraki recruited Izuku, when he couldn’t even recruit decent henchmen for USJ.

I like the idea of Stain disabling the two heroes who didn’t save Kacchan. Two cowards scolding a child for being braver than them? Since Stain’s arc is a year and some change from Ep. 1, if those two heroes were among the first he ever attacked, it could cause someone to double-take that their last patrol before being forced into retirement was featured on the news with two future UA students.

Stain SAVED Deku from Shigaraki. For any Pro Hero to assume that means Izuku was working with Shigaraki instead of Stain is like watching a girl stick her tongue down a guy's throat and doubting they are a couple because you saw that girl snatch a weave off someone she hates in the school parking lot.

Stain followers, in plain view of Pro Heroes, have declared Izuku as equally a true hero as All Might, saved him, or helped him save the day. Not only was Toga instrumental in Izuku's success in the Overhaul Arc (and Uraraka and Aizawa were aware of that) but the only reason she HAD Izuku's blood was because of a discreet little meet-up during the PLE that could have gone completely unnoticed, except Sero, Mineta, and Kaminari loudly said they saw Izuku interact with a naked girl. Shit! Well, now Izuku has to mention Camie to Beast, it would be out of character to NOT ask.

The Mall Encounter implicates Izuku so much, I'm actually getting scared. IS Izuku Midoriya a Stain follower?! Here is the monologue straight from the DUB: "What's the difference? Your goals, your villains... I don't understand you. I don't agree with the Hero Killer either, but I can understand him. Because the Hero Killer and I have something in common. We're inspired by All Might. That night, he even saved me from the flying nomu. He's a maniac, but he doesn't destroy things because it sounds fun. And when things were looking bad for him, he didn't abandon his mission... Like YOU did. Even if what he did was wrong, he held true to his beliefs. That's the difference."

Now, when Tsukauchi The Human Lie Detector took Izuku's statement after the Mall Encounter… because yes, he takes Izuku’s statement after every fucking crisis, people… even if Izuku repeated that monologue word for word, all Tsukauchi would hear was the confused a innocent hero-in-training.

If Nezu/Aizawa/All Might read back that statement, they could EASILY reinterpret it as an idealistic young pupil disappointed that he couldn't convince his master to spare the lives of all of the fake, unworthy heroes he'd profiled for him. (This serial killer killed 17 and injured 24, now. That's a whole lotta people not killed for a serial killer.) How EASY would it be to suspect that Ingenium was only alive because Izuku pleaded his case? How EASY would it be to think Izuku only sent the signal to Class A to get Iida away from his master ASAP before he had to choose between his mission and his new friends?

And just to wrap up in a nice, neat bow how much the Mall Encounter makes Izuku look like a Stain pupil, the fact that it happened at all looks like Shigaraki flaunting how vulnerable Izuku is with his master in jail. A rogue looking to recruit the quirk analyst prodigy he suspects was that asshole's Player 2. "I hate everyone. But the Hero Killer pisses me off the most.” Izuku tried to act as ignorant as possible. “Wasn’t he one of your guys?” But then he dropped character when Shigaraki dared to compare himself to his master. Shigaraki asked why Stain had more YouTube views and Izuku responded with a shockingly personal declaration on his respect for Stain and All Might.

… Seriously, I’ve gaslit myself into thinking Izuku really is Stain’s pupil...

At this point, I’m just working out the kinks on either an actual traitor AU or a reasonable doubt fugitive AU.

Conclusion

I love making characters suffer. I genuinely do. I can tolerate melodrama for the sake of characters suffering. I love OOC because I equally love Aizawa beating Izuku and Aizawa dating Izuku... If someone has a recommendation on both happening at the same time, I'd appreciate it.

But I just don’t understand the appeal of lazy writing or nonsensical characters WITHIN the context of the story being written. Every time someone says "Izuku sold information about us" all I can think about is that Shigaraki has never understood any of Class A's powers. Just write that Izuku wanted the League to kidnap Bakugou. Use the fucking anime.

#izuku mydoria #my hero academia #mha critical #fandom #all might #aizawa shota #principal nezu #bnha critical #overhaul #whump writing #whump mha #fanfiction advice #shota aizawa #mha aizawa

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