#ill need a year of preparation for these too yeah

[faerociousbeast]

i was gonna finally sumeru since i finally dainsleifed but i cant bring myself to do it tbh.

[angel-sweets666]

how t some of the bakusquad boys initiate 👀

Bakugo katsuki x reader, eijiro kirishima x reader, Denki kaminari x reader

warnings: mentions of sex, more sexual stuff. No real sex tho Dw reader is mentioned to have a pussy but that’s the one gender mention

sorry I didn’t write sero I don’t have a good idea on his character

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

ALL AGED UP TO 18 AND IN 3RD YEAR

Katsuki bakugo

Bakugo either starts off subtly or straight up, no In between. He’s especially rough when he’s had a bad day

you roll over onto your side, typing to Mina about drama from class 3B (1B)When bakugo bursts open the door and slams it closed, practically making the door frame shake. “Had a bad day?” You asked him, still distracted on your phone and tapping away. Bakugo lets out a groan “I FUCKING-“ “inside voice.” You interrupted “I had a fucking ass day.” He still yelled as he threw his hero shirt and mask onto the floor, stomping over to you in bed. You peered over your shoulder and looked him up and down, noticing how dirty his boots are “bakugo take your boots off! Your filthy!!” You sat up and looked him up and down again. the blonde rolls his eyes and takes off his black and orange dirt stained boots, chucking them to the door. “There, better?” He grumbled, climbing into bed with you. “Yeah.. that’s better” you said as you rolled onto your back, bakugo sat up and pulled your legs apart and laying down on your chest. You could feel his length begin to grow harder and harder underneath you, he sat up and slowly began to rock his hips against yours. “shit- can we fuck?”

eijiro kirishima

sweet boy asks, and he’s so polite about it too! He wants to be a chivalrous hero and a great boyfriend in general to you. So of course he asks so politely:(((

you were washing some dishes in the common room, you and tsu had some noodles for lunch and you were just cleaning up the bowls from the food. Humming and dancing to yourself, kirishima watched from afar. You looked so pretty when you were happy like that, how could he not wanna fuck you? As you put away the last fork you suddenly felt a pair of very strong and solid arms wrap around you “hi baby!” You giggle and kiss his cheek, kirishima gives you a toothy grin and kisses your neck gently “hey sweetheart.. you look so pretty today” he tells you as he rubs your size “you wouldn’t possibly be in the mood would you?” He asks with his cheeks turning red “are you asking for sex?” You grinned to him and he nodded “yeah alright baby cmon”

Denki kaminari

My bro begs, like HE BEGS And not in a cute little submissive way I’m talking like really annoying “PLEASEEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE” while on his knees shuffling around to follow you

You were busy trying to clean out your dorm, preparing for graduation in the next few weeks. The task was already challenging, but it became nearly impossible with an electric blonde following you around on his knees, begging for you to let him fuck you

“PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, ILL BE QUICK!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore him as you sorted through a pile of textbooks. "Denki, I really need to get this done. Graduation is right around the corner, and I can't leave my dorm looking like a disaster zone." He shuffled closer, still on his knees, and clasped his hands together dramatically. "But I need you more than your dorm does!” You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow “oh really?” You leaned your weight to one hip, Denki rolled his eyes then stood up, mild carpet burn on his knees from following you around “BRO YES? YOUVE GOT LIKE, A 10/10 PU-” “ DONT DAY THAT SO LOUD!” You covered his mouth then sighed “you know what… I could use the break” denkis face lit up “so… I can fuck you?” He asked with his face practically glowing as you nodded

I said I’d tag u next time I wrote for Denki kaminari so here! I hope it was as accurate as last time @b0o0o

[othercrossee]

Its nice to be the bitch who does their work way too fast so now its 1am and im drawing while watching little videos and people r just sending in their stuff

[rafeandonlyrafe]

good boy

words: 1.5k

warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy

“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.

“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.

“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.

“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.

“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.

“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.

“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.

“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”

“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.

that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.

“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”

-- two years later --

“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.

“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.

“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”

“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”

“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”

you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”

“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.

“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.

--

“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.

“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.

“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.

rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.

“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 

“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.

you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.

“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.

“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.

“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 

“what?” you whine out.

“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”

“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.

you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.

“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.

--

“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”

you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.

max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.

“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.

max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.

you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.

“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.

your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.

“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.

“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”

“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 

“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.

“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.

“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”

you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk

[club-prideguin]

Hm.

[lola-bunn1]

can u do one where neteyam is expected to find a mate and you get distant and all bc yk its not gonna be you and another guy makes a move on u and he gets mad n confession n stuff? i love ur writing

oblivious

❥ genre: angsty ish to fluff

10 years, you've been best friends with neteyam for 10 years. you both saw each other grow up, and now it's over. you know it is

neteyam has finally matured, he was ready to get an ikran, ready to go hunting with the others, and most of all, he was now expected to mate.

you know whoever he's gonna mate with is not gonna like you being friends with him, you admit it yourself, you wouldn't like your partner spending time with another girl. so you understood why it would happen

so you began distancing yourself, as a preparation. but also to ease the pain for when you finally see him with someone that isn't you. it was bound to happen. you were stupid enough to fall for him, and now it was going to be harder than it should be

you cried, you cried at night just thinking about the way life would be, you were sure he didn't feel the same, besides, he was going to be the next olo'eyktan, he needed to have someone proper, someone actually important

who were you to be mating with someone like him? he would probably pick elmirìey, she was a proper girl, a gorgeous one. or maybe he'd pick awia, she was a great warrior, from a great family

not only did you distance yourself from him, but his family too. you were so close to them, hell even neytiri liked you. but now, you acted like you didn't even know them

you sat at a special spot you found in the forest, you and neteyam used to come here but he's too busy now. so its just you

"hey!" you heard a voice behind you

"oh, neteyam" you said

"what a way to greet me, do you not want me around that much?"

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows

"don't be like that. you know exactly what I'm talking about." he said

"I heard you're looking for a mate now that you've had your ceremony"

he sighed, knowing you're trying to change the subject, "yeah. but to be honest, I've already found one. Just gotta figure out a way to tell her"

your heart shattered.

"oh, that's nice. I um, I have to go" you said

"y/n wait-"

and with that, you ran off somewhere, your tears sliding down your cheeks, how could he find one so fast? does he love her that much? has he been loving her, just waiting for his ceremony so he can finally pick her?

"oh" you heard a voice and sighed

"I'm sorry I ran--" you said, turning around to see that it was not neteyam speaking

"are-are you okay? you look like you've been crying" the man said

"i'm fine, thanks tenio" you said, wiping your tears

tenio was a fine young man, he was actually really nice, but you've never really talked to him

"i was just looking for some fruits to pick for my mother, but ill leave you alone-"

"no no, you can stay uh, i know where you can get the ripe ones, follow me" you said, walking along the forest with him next to you, you two talked for a bit as he was picking the fruit

"i heard you had your ceremony the other day" you said

"yeah, it sucks though." he said

"wait what? why so?" you asked

"well everyone is waiting for me to mate with someone, but there isn't anyone in my life, ill have to mate with some random stranger" he sighed

"oh...im so sorry"

"it's fine-"

"there you are!" neteyam's voice filled your ears, he turned to see tenio there, and his face faltered

"let's go" he said, grabbing your hand and walking away, an angry look on his face, you definitely did not want to do anything to upset him more

"uh, tell your mother i said hi! enjoy the fruits!" you said and he just nodded

once he was out of sight you pulled away

"why were you with him?!" he said

"i was just helping him pick fruits!"

"everybody knows that trick! you help him and he subtly mentions that he has nobody to mate with so you can feel bad"

"you're being insane right now. nobody has ever done that" you rolled your eyes

"they have, you just never realize it" he yelled

"what if i do realize it, hm? what if i want them to do it? why don't you go tell your stupid girl how much you want her to be your mate and leave me alone!"

"i can't go"

"why not!" you yelled

"because she's standing right in front of me"

"what?"

"it's you, y/n. i don't want anyone else why don't you understand that? you think I don't notice how you've been avoiding me and my family too?"

"i-i avoided you because i couldn't stand seeing you with another girl."

"wait-you thought i was gonna mate with someone else?" he asked

you looked down and avoided looking at him, he lifted your chin up with his finger

"i've been waiting for years to finally make you mine, y/n. it hurts me to see you with anyone else too."

"really?" you asked

"i see you, y/n."

"i see you, ma nete" you smiled, and the two of you shared a kiss

how were you so oblivious?

[syoddeye]

the lift

gaz x f!reader | 1.4k words cw: alcohol a/n: received a powerlifter x kyle prompt from an anon. i don't normally take requests, but i've been itching to write something sweet for him. influenced by a recent thing i wrote up about gaz flubbing a flirt. i'm a normie/casual weightlifter. apologies to actual powerlifters. 🏋️

“Fuck me running.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“Get a load of her.”

“Pick your jaw off the floor, and stop staring, lech.”

“You’d be no better if you just looked.”

Gaz rolls his eyes at Soap’s stupefied expression, watching him miss his mouth with his pint glass. Foam spills over onto his shirt, causing the Scot to jerk in his seat and stare at his own appendage in offense.

View must be good for Soap to make himself more of a fool than usual. Kyle adjusts his cap, turns his head to the side in a feigned stretch, and immediately clocks the distraction in question.

A woman in a backless top sits alone at the bar with something fruity in hand. No bra band in sight, no tan lines either. That’s not what glues his eyes to her, though. It’s the rippling muscle the cut of fabric shows off, defined and apparent as she lifts her glass to drink. It continues south, too, her thick thighs spilling over the narrow stool. She looks like she’d give Ghost a run for his money. Like she’d rip him in half like a phone book.

He needs to talk to her.

Kyle turns back to Soap, dabbing at himself with a fistful of napkins. He downs the rest of his beer and then stands.

“I’ll get us fresh drinks.”

Before the lout can breathe a word, he beelines to the bar. Only. When he gets there, it occurs to him he doesn’t know what to say. Any other pretty face, he’d toss out one of his corny but winning lines. Send over a drink. With her, her muscles more impressive up close and wholly focused on a women’s football match, he’s tongue-tied. And that doesn’t happen often. Must be the moon’s position or something.

He bides his time, staring through the screen like he’s watching, thinking of what to say. Avoids the bartender’s curious gaze.

Then, an elbow knocks his arm very gently.

“Fishlock’s a beast, right?”

Kyle’s head swivels, eyebrows to his hairline. The target of his ill-planned op glances between him and the television.

“Yeah,” he sputters out a second too late. “She’s…feisty.” He could break his glass over his head. Feisty? What was he, eighty years old?

To his delight, she laughs, and a rush of heat flares in his stomach at the sound.

“Understatement of the century.”

He chuckles in disbelief at his luck. She gives him another smile. Fuck, he is done for. 

“You want to join me? Had a friend cancel, and I hate watching alone.”

“I’d love to,” he says, dropping into the empty stool probably too quickly. Their knees touch, but she doesn’t pull away. He fixes his eyes on the screen after placing an order. He watches the Welsh battle the Ukrainians, absorbing as many names and numbers as possible. His phone burns a hole in his pocket, and he can’t help but wonder how soon he can excuse himself to the toilet to read ten articles on women’s football for a refresher.

When she chimes in with a comment or a jeer, he does his best to reciprocate. Using talents he’s cultivated for infiltration and interrogation to string along a conversation in which he has no business participating.

It goes swimmingly until—

“There y’are, thought I’d have to find a bloodhound.”

Soap.

Kyle shifts in his seat, leveling a stare he hopes both contain whatever bullshit Soap’s preparing to spew—heaps, judging by his awful smirk—and communicates an unsubtle do not fuck this up for me. 

“Who’s this?”

Kyle opens his mouth, apparently in preparation to insert his own foot. He hasn’t gotten around to the name bit yet. Too busy learning about women’s football in real time. He looks sidelong at his would-be companion, another soft smile coming to his rescue.

She introduces herself, and he tries not to tack on a silent Garrick at the end of it, just to feel how it sounds. Christ, beyond done for.

“Pleasure to meet you.” She says.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I’m sure. Name’s John, and this is–”

“Kyle. Like he said. Pleasure’s mine.” He offers a hand without hesitation, grinning when she takes it. Nearly groans at the calluses on her palms and fingers. Didn’t know he was into that. He smirks inwardly. Hm. Learning several new things today, Gaz.

“Are you…also here to watch the match?” She asks, gaze flitting between them.

He stares hard at Soap again and witnesses the devil himself whispering into the Scot’s ear. It’s truly an act of divine intervention when the other man shakes his head.

“‘Fraid not. I’ve got to run along, but Garrick’s all yours tonight.” He winks unctuously, waggling a brow to really sell it. “If you don’t mind watchin’ him.”

She smirks and pats his knee. “I’m sure I can handle him.”

Soap looks downright rakish. “Oh, I bet you can. See you in the morn, Kyle.”

He’s torn in two: she’s touched his leg and Soap’s cheek about tomorrow. The idiot lives a door down. They’re both on for PT at 0500. Dickhead.

“He’s friendly.” She muses as they return to the match.

“Too friendly. Like a failed police dog.” He mutters.

“Hmm. Does that make him a bad soldier?”

It takes effort not to choke. Their career, generally speaking, isn’t a secret, only their activities. Still. “Smart guess.”

“Despite his creative haircut, you’re both decently cut and we’re, what, twenty minutes from a base? Plus,” she shrugs. “His tattoo. Giveaway. I would’ve said ‘reenactor wannabe’, but your reaction confirms it.”

Kyle’s tongue swipes behind his teeth. She gets better by the minute. “Yeah? And, uh, what do you do for work?” Something physical, he bets silently. Something that necessitates her kind of build or creates it. 

“I’m a tailor.”

Or…not at all.

He can’t stop himself from blurting out. “So the muscles are—“ He abruptly stops, fingers gripping his drink tightly. Sweet Freddie Mercury. Forget smashing a glass over his scalp, he’ll vault through the front door headfirst.

“Powerlifting,” she proudly shares, setting her cocktail down to flex. Her muscles jump beneath her skin, straining into a mesmerizing landscape of strength and power. “My main hobby. If I could make money off it, believe me, I would,” she swings her frame forward and twists, showing off her traps. “But I learned how to sew and alter clothes when I, uh, outgrew conventional sizes.” Disdain paints the word. “Everything I’m wearing I customized to fit me, and me specifically.”

“Genius.” he says simply, mind half-blank when she turns forward again, flexing her biceps and forearms toward her lap. So she’s good with her hands.

A fist uncurls, and a finger crooks up. His face lifts to a smug smile.

“Impressed?”

“Thoroughly.” He swallows.

Her eyes drag over him, slowly and methodically. Picking him apart like a piece of meat. He suppresses a shudder. Yet another thing he didn’t know he liked. 

“How much do you weigh?”

A simple enough question. One he’s asked every so often, especially in medical, in between formal physicals. Coming from her, however, it’s an invitation.

And it is.

Straight into her arms.

Half the pub’s watching when she hoists him parallel to the ground, overhead, and squats. For a brief moment, arms crossed over his chest and back rigid, he swears he hears The Time of My Life. When she returns him to solid ground, to the cheers and toasts from the small crowd, he might as well still be in the air. Heavenbound. Preparing to meet Peter.

Eventually, the atmosphere calms, and he finds himself thigh-to-thigh with his strongwoman. They watch the remainder of the match, chatting—mostly about sports and work, but a bit about the little things—he’s not too thick when she offhandedly mentions knowing the neighborhood well. That her place is a few streets over.

He needs to be back on base before sunrise. He tells her as much outside the bar after the Welsh suffer defeat in penalties. He can relate to the feeling, knowing Soap’s gonna give him hell and Price will ream him out if he’s hungover. 

“Kyle, you’re cute, but we’re not at the sleepover stage yet,” she teases, picking invisible dust off his shirt. “I can give you a lift when you’re ready to leave.”

Strong. Witty. Confident. Can absolutely rip him in half. There is nothing he doesn’t like about her. So, so fucked. 

He grins stupidly when she beckons with a finger, beginning to walk toward her place.

“Premium?” He jokes, following. “I don’t settle for anything less than top-tier car service.”

“Not that kind of lift,” She answers, looking over a sculpted shoulder. “Fireman or princess?”

Kyle almost stumbles.

“Yes.”

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 41-46 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Get comfy and reread with me the finale of the Il Mheg arc and the intro of a certain loser.

First off, I wanna emphasize how important this arc’s for Vivi. Had he not liked Il Mheg in general and Feo Ul in particular, the rest of the story would play out very differently, and not in favor of the sundered. His initial positive impression of the First is pretty much the only thing that saves it.

We've reached a high, physically and emotionally. You know what that means, as per the shb rollercoaster rule :>

Pan pride pixie blesses Thancred, ca. 2024, colorized. I accidentally gave them the pan colors but hey it works. ALSO! Stars in his eyes.

Re: distant nightmare, I’ll let you in on a secret, or a third party perspective if you will. Vivi's full of shit, he's too focused on the big picture. He’s narrating this whole story, but his perspective is, well, just that.

Initially this was Vivi's inner monologue, then I thought that I should just let them talk, and it wrote itself.

More under the cut~

Drawing a buncha vivi-lookalikes that act soooooorta but not really like him, just slightly off, was a surprisingly fun exercise.

Luckily for Thancred, though, he sniffs out the pixie magic, and knows better than indulging them.

...Still, what a shitty fucked up day. Sorry, Thancred :’>

This here’s an example of a moment where I’m uncertain if I’m being too subtle and if this flies over some readers’ heads. He refers to Alisaie’s “job” of dragging Vivi back to msq, which she recently started lowkey dreading (episodes 32-33)

...Though she goes back to her “duty” in episode 43.

She's pointedly SILENT throughout the episode, doing her best to hold back.

Thancred's a man who can say no to begging dogs.

Gridania mention! Vivi’s gridanian! He never speaks ill of the elementals, he's wary of them even a world apart.

This pixie's life is something Feo Ul's willing to sacrifice. Episodes 42-43 tell this story in reverse order, yes this’s the pixie that was supposed to agree with Thancred and go with the Scions to the Crystarium.

As to why there’s a dozen of vivis popping up as a backup: they needed just one fake Vivi to go with the Scions, but try organizing the pixies. Their plan’s already failed when this first pixie-Vivi refused to play their part.

“Yeah no, our guy’s special, but not as special as to explode in confetti”

I love his first ingame appearance in that Varis cutscene, this moment has similar energy: barely enters the stage, instantly gets impaled on a long object. This’s not foreshadowing, no, why would you think that-

The “camera” is perfectly still, there’s even some symmetry, demonstrating how calm and prepared Emet is. He didn’t expect much and he’s still disappointed.

This’s a super old comic. I spent the first half of 2022 testing and trying to find a style for Fragments, back then I had no plans, none, zero, absolutely no interest to give Emet a role bigger than a mention. The earliest version of the script had very few Emet scenes, which, looking back on it, was gonna be a disservice to his character. Well, that changed rapidly in late 2023 when I fell for him so hard that I broke my neck, and now I look back on a lot of what I did with Vivi with new eyes. THE EYEROLL. After spending two years developing a guy for a fun wolgraha chemistry (at the same time I was perfectly aware that Exarch and Emet are foils. I made a foil for Exarch, what on earth did I expect-), I’m going through a mindblow after mindblow as I realize HOW GOOD VIVI IS FOR EMET (and vice versa ofc) and how many things they have in common. This wasn’t always the case, Vivi just gradually got more cynical, tired, ✨grey✨ and everything else that makes a guy consider hitting it with The Other Old Man.

They’re off to a great start.

From Emet’s pov, this must really hurt, as in how many other shards of Azem might’ve snarled at him like this. Even though he must be numb to it by now, who says that there isn’t the tiniest flicker of hope when he approaches yet another not-Azem. He may deny and hate and try to snuff out that spark, but the fatal Soulmate Magnet keeps doing its thing.

Parallels to episode 2.

Apparently, Vivi’s first reaction to encountering his to-be-most-prominent boyfriends is to attack them somehow.

This’s really, REALLY dumb of him, and he even comments on it shortly after. But yes, his isekai tale in the First was rather pleasant just until now, and it lulled him into the false sense of security. OF COURSE there are ascians everywhere, not just on the Source. Vivi just forgor.

Emet tests Vivi's reactions to insults/being treated as a lesser, silliness, flirt.

I regret to inform you that both Vivi and Alisaie have been disarmed so easily. The tone quickly shifts, the weapon’s lowered.

Alisaie makes bad puns/jokes in canon, I thought it'd fit if she laughed at that kinda jokes too, and in the least fitting situations, to top it off. Alphinaud’s disappointed, even if he can hardly be called an expert in humor.

“It’s up to you”. Emet stops fooling around, assuming a more serious tone. He may not respect Vivi or his agency here, but he provides him with a choice that's guaranteed to give him some trust points, and uses "we" for an illusion of unity/equality, a not really subtle nudge towards cooperation, it's not me vs you anymore, it's "us".

Whether Vivi picks up on the manipulation or not remains to be seen, but Emet gets his way here.

Forgive me this lil tangent, but I’m so giddy and excited to write Emet. If Exarch’s decently emotionally intelligent but still obtuse at times, Vivi’s a tier or two above him, he’s not a stranger to manipulation, he registers it being used on him, and doesn’t hesitate to use it too when it suits his fancy. He's quite good at people-ing. Emet, though, Emet’s THE emotional intelligence personified. He’s had literal thousands of years to practice, he leaves everyone else in the dust in this regard. It’s daunting but so exciting to write him, I hope to do him justice.

Let’s just talk.

𝓛𝓮𝓽’𝓼 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴.

Mark this moment, remember this line for meme value. If these last words aren't famous yet, they WILL become that when we see what they talk their way into <w<

Yes I'm going all in on tragic irony of Emet's situation.

Accidental Emet rp, with the hunching over and all. Or maybe Vivi already unwittingly mirrors him. Or maybe he always did- *kicked and dumped in the trash bin*

Man. I'm guilty of enjoying drawing Vivi in genuine distress. He’s so fun when he’s agitated.

Hidden Angst Time! It's all hehe haha until you realize that this might be a product of the hectic wol lifestyle forcing him to speedrun his emotions like this. Either speedrun, or be left with no opportunity to process them at all.

Also, the sandwiches! The framing’s deliberate, they’re on the foreground all the time, and Vivi only notices them in the very last panel.

I! Love! This! Face!!!!!! A rare neutral, relaxed, thoughtful face, he isn't performing for anyone here.

Nevermind Ardbert getting brutally ignored here x’D

The fact that a guy that Vivi had briefly considered as partner material shut himself away in the Crystal Tower for what could be the rest of his life has stuck with Vivi for good. Or should I say for bad. He might not necessarily care about ARRRaha, still it upsets him that he kissed someone who practically killed himself some days later.

I recently talked a lil more about the Bitchless Liar. This’s how Vivi remembers him forever, take it or leave it. But hey, this cool Exarch guy has big balls probably <- in-universe hc \o/

This episode taught me to draw BREAD.

Even though Exarch’s been nothing but sweet so far, one thing’s to acknowledge a fact with your brain, another thing’s to wrestle with your trauma and paranoia that have all rights to exist and fester. Ever since HW Vivi doesn’t accept food and drinks from anyone except the few trusted sources. This isn’t really covered in this episode, but hopefully hinted at just enough.

He takes a leap of faith. Or maybe he’s simply sick and tired of living Like This. Maybe sandwiches kill him, and he doesn’t really mind. And, when they don’t, he goes through a visible shift in attitude towards Exarch, as we’re able to see in the following episodes.

This’s all I’ve got for now, thanks for reading till the end~

[messedupfan]

Chapter 18

Summary: Wanda has been seeing someone. Daisy reconnects with Reader. Jean and Anna have special plans.

A/n: Heeeyy, please don't hate me. Enjoy!

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Wanda checks her watch nervously. She had arrived at the office thirty minutes early to mentally prepare for the appointment. She wasn't sure what she was going to discover in that room. All she knew was that the idea made her feel ill. Her mind jumps to all of the people she slept with and she begins to feel like an idiot. Her leg bounces nervously as she thinks about how she will be judged by the doctor. It won't happen in front of her but she's almost certain it will happen. 

“Wanda Maximoff?” Her head snaps up at her name being called. “I'm ready to see you now.” Wanda nods and rises as she collects her things. She was going to be fine. Agatha swears by therapy. She was going to be fine. This was the next step to getting better and getting on with her life. 

You are standing in the backyard of your former home. “You wanted to show me my own craft space?” You ask with arms crossed over your chest. 

“No, we wanted to show you our future craft space,” Jean says and Anna waves her arms around as she presents a stack of boxes where your tools and materials used to be laid out. 

“What's this? You know that I need the space when I get an order. I know it’s been a while but it’s not just for me. I’ve been able to help you guys with the money I make from this side job. It’s not some frivolous hobby,” you walk around the room. 

“Yes, well, it’s actually been a year – close to a year and I’m pretty sure we were your last customers,” Jean says. “Besides, since we’re going to have all of this time we thought would be occupied by a baby… We want to make it into a craft space.” 

You clamp your mouth shut as you look at the boxes. It wasn’t fair for them to throw that in your face but this scenario was eerily similar to the one you’d witnessed with Wanda’s basement and Vision. You couldn’t stoop as low as that man so you sighed and nodded. “Okay, can you give me time to find somewhere to store it all? I don’t have the space right now.” 

“Sure,” Jean says, “just please don’t take too long. I have a lot of idea’s and I’m excited. Well. We’re excited.” She pulls her wife close to her and the two share a kiss. You find their behavior to be odd but you don’t think about it too much. 

“Okay,” you drag out. “I should get going. I need to do some grocery shopping and make some phone calls to see who will be willing to store my things until I can find a better place.” You walk through the gate to get to your car as they allow you to go. You scroll through your contacts to see who you can trust with your tools and supplies. You pause for a moment when you see Daisy’s contact. You know that you didn’t love her the way she deserved but it still hurt to see her name. You decide to leave that task for when you’re home because you needed to focus. 

You walk around the store with this nagging feeling that you should contact Daisy for some reason. You didn’t understand it. In the time since she ended things with you, you haven’t wanted to contact her once. Maybe it was because things with Wanda have crashed and burned alive. You don’t know, but you had to fight it because it wouldn’t be fair for you to try and insert yourself in her life again. As you shop you recignize her friend and you can’t stop yourself from saying hi. Because you mistakenly feel as though that would be rude. “Hey, Jemma!” You greet with as smile. 

Her eyes go wide and she almost runs but instead turns around smiles back. “Y/n, it’s been a while. How have you been?” 

You take a deep breath as you mentally run through the chaotic months you’d been having. “I’ve been better,” you nod. “Yeah, um, how have you been?”

She makes a face and narrows her eyes at you, “Let’s not waste our time here. I’m not the person you want to know about. Am I?”

You’re surprised by the implication and you shake your head. “No, I’m genuinely curious about you. I wouldn’t ever put you in a position to update me about Daisy. She made it very clear that she wanted me out of her life.” 

Jemma’s eyes scan you and she nods. “I’ve been well. Daisy, however, not so much. I’m telling you this because she is going to reach out to you soon. As much as I don’t like you, you do deserve the warning.” 

Your eyebrows twitch and you frown slightly, that was not what you expected to hear. “Oh, I hope I can help her with whatever it is. I just… She’s not going to try and get back together right?”

Jemma bursts out laughing and you smile and nod as she makes a big show of her amusement. “I’ve forgotten how funny you are!” She points at you with a grin. “No! She doesn’t want you back!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you try not to roll your eyes at her reaction. It was unnecessary. “Just, let her know that she can contact me whenever she wants. I’ll see you around, Jemma. Or maybe I won’t.” You walk away and continue to shop for the week. You go home and put your groceries away and don’t think about Daisy the rest of the day.

Wanda sits in her office and goes over her budget proposal for the project she was assigned. The company has been trying to score her former in-law’s as a client for years. She knew Stark Industries was a big corporation when she married into the family. It’s what paid for this house. It’s what allowed her to not work for six months. It’s what has paid for her new land. But for some reason she still feels weird about using her relationship to the Starks to help this company land them as a client. It made her realize why they probably hired her in the first place even with the unexplained unemployment gap after being fired from her previous firm. She runs through the proposal a couple more times and hopes that this doesn’t create a rift with the people she was getting to build a healthier relationship with. 

When she feels confident about the proposal she sets it aside and starts to work on the digital blueprint of her dream home. It has gone from sketches to utilizing the program on her computer to draft together a more visual representation of what she wants her house to look like. She has lots of windows and an open floor plan. She knows where she wants a dining room and how she wants the kitchen to look like. The second floor has a den space and an office space and multiple bedrooms. Then she considers adding a third floor but thinks it might be too much. 

She starts to shuffle the rooms around and considers moving the office to the ground floor. Then she adds a basement. Then she takes it away. She plays around with the design until her stomach grumbles and she is reminded that she has to eat. She shut down her work and walks downstairs to make herself something to eat. As she sets out ingredients, she fantasizes about you standing in the kitchen helping her. She wonders if you'd wrap your arms around her and kiss her cheek as she chopped vegetables. She thinks about how easily she could melt against your body. She allows herself to think about moments she could have with you without making herself feel guilty about it. She's tired of feeling guilty for wanting a better life for herself. 

As she lays on the couch and watches a show that she has been binging lately she mindlessly traces the letters M, I, N, E, on her upper thigh. In her mind, it's a memory of you, but really it's only another fantasy. She doesn't know why she can't just give in. She doesn't know why she pushes you away. She knows she shouldn't have but she also knows that she probably would have hurt you. She takes a deep breath and sighs. 

She walks up to her bed as her mind prepares her for waking up early the next morning. The mental checklist of what she has to take care of tomorrow. What she should wear for her meeting with Tony. What she should make herself for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Should she go out? Should she anticipate Tony offering to take her to lunch? 

She thinks about the therapy sessions she has scheduled for the next several weeks. She thinks about wanting to hang out with her friends. Then as she closes her eyes, she thinks about you and a small smile lifts up her lips. 

You are getting ready to take your lunch break when your phone goes off in your pocket. Your heart leaps into your throat when Daisy’s image covers your screen. You answer and start walking away from the job site. “Hello?” You say into the phone. There is a loud drilling sound and someone starts banging a hammer on a wall. “Hold on, I can’t hear you. One second please.” You cross the street and keep walking until you find a quiet area. You sit down on a park bench. “Okay, I can hear you now. Um, hey,” you say as you remove your hardhat. “This is a surprise. How are you?”

“Is it a surprise? Jemma told me that she warned you I might contact you,” Daisy says. 

“Uh, she did say that but I wasn’t sure when to expect your call. So it is still a surprise,” you reply as you run your fingers through your hair. “She also warned me that you’re not doing too well. Is there something I can do for you?” Daisy goes quiet and you think that the call has dropped, you move the phone from your face to check but the sunlight makes it difficult to tell. “Hello?” 

“I’m here,” she sighs and you can tell that she is trying to hide that she is crying. You take a deep breath as you brace yourself for what she might tell you. Maybe Phil is terminally ill. Maybe her mom passed. Maybe this, maybe that. 

“I’m here for you,” you tell her. “No matter what, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

“I,” her voice cracks and you wish that you could do something more than sit here on the phone with her. “What I need to talk to you about is better done in person,” she finally says through her sniffles. 

“Okay, um where do you want to meet?” You ask. “I don’t have Rachel this week so you could come over to my place because it's a lot more private than yours or if you don’t want privacy I can go to your place after work. Um or we can meet somewhere public. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” You softly offer her options. Your heart is pounding from the anticipation. What could be so bad that she had to see you in person?

“I’m okay with coming over to your place,” she replies. 

“Okay,” you state, “does seven-thirty work for you? I’ve been working twelve to thirteen hour shifts to pay those pesky hospital bills.” 

“Seven-thirty works,” she answers. “I’ll see you then.” 

“I’ll see you then,” you say as the call ends. You sit on that park bench a little bit longer as you fear what Daisy has to say. What could she possibly be holding on to? What has her in tears? What can’t she say over the phone? Your mind races as you eat your lunch. It continues to run as you get back to work and think about what Daisy needs help with.

Wanda laughs with Tony as they sit together in a nice restaurant. Her pitch went well and Tony said that he would consider hiring her for the project. Then he offered to take her to lunch to celebrate. Now the two were discussing highlights of Vision’s finest moments during past holidays. “Oh, remember that time he convinced your dad to let him cut the turkey and he nearly cut his finger off?” Wanda says. 

“How could I forget? I’m the one who pointed out that there couldn’t be that much blood on a turkey!” Tony laughs as he lifts his glass from the table and swirls it around. He shakes his head. “I have no clue how I’m related to that man.” 

“I don’t know either,” Wanda says. “You are way more fun to be around,” she compliments and they clink their glasses together as they cheers to that. 

“You know, Wanda,” Tony starts as he leans in closer. “Why are you wasting your talents working for a company like Nexus Developments? You are family,” he puts his hand on top of Wanda’s. “We could have helped you land a job with the company we usually use or hell, we could have made a branch for you.” 

Wanda taps Tony’s hand as she pulls away and slumps back into her seat. “I know that you would have. But I couldn’t ask that of you or your family. Vision would have made it about him some how and lately,” she shakes her head as she feels tears building up. She takes a deep breath. “Lately, whenever your brother doesn’t get his way, my kids pay a price. Hell, even when he does get his way, my kids still suffer.” 

Tony nods and takes a drink from his glass, he sighs as the aged scotch goes down smoothly. “I understand your position. Just know that if you ever need help, we are still here for you. Vision can go fuck himself,” he tells her. Wanda laughs a softly as she agrees with his statement. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince you into a Maximoff and Stark partnership once again. This one being a profitable business instead of an emotional headache.”

Wanda shrugs, “We’ll see. The future is quite unpredictable after all.” 

As you walk through the your apartment building you run through the possibilities of the impending conversation over and over in your mind. The scenarios don’t stop until you see Daisy pacing in front of your door. You check the time on your watch and fill with relief that you’re not late, she’s early. 

“Hey,” you say as you sort through your keys to find the one that will unlock the door. Daisy startles as you announce your presence. “Sorry, I didn't mean to,” you notice that she doesn't look too good and you just move to open the door. “Let's just,” you hold it open for her and she walks right past you. “Would you like anything to drink? Water maybe?”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, I don't know how long you'll want me in here after I tell you what I need to tell you.” 

You make a face, unsure what she could possibly say that would have you kicking her out of your home. “I have a feeling this is something we should sit for. Come on,” you sit down on the couch and wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower first? You’ve been working hard all day and I know you how much you hate sitting in–” Daisy rambles on as she paces the living room and you have to cut her off. 

“Daisy, I hate waiting even more,” you tell her. “Come, sit,” you pat the space next to you on the sofa. 

Daisy stands still and frowns at you. “No you don’t. You are the most patient person I know.” 

You nod your head slowly, “I can be patient, that’s true. But I still hate waiting.” You admit to her. “I’ve been worried about you all day, Daisy. I don’t want to be pushy but I want to be able to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop stalling and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Daisy sits next to you and drops her face into her hands. You sit there and wait for her to collect her thoughts and say something. Anything that will explain her behavior. You bounce your leg as your body decides to show your impatience. The movement has Daisy moving her hands from her face through her hair. “The night we broke up I,” the area around her eyes are red and her nose is pink. She doesn't face you because she can't say this and have you look at her differently. She doesn't know where you stand on a topic like this because every conversation the two of you had on the matter was purely hypothetical. She wanted to keep this to herself because she didn't want you to change in her eyes. She likes you the way you are. “I found out that I had um, sorry this is difficult for me to say.” 

You hold your hand out to her, “Daisy, it's okay. Whatever it is,” you trail as she turns her head away from you. “Are you sick?”  You ask softly as her shoulders shake. 

She turns her head to stare in front of her as she shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I'm not sick. That's not the kind of results I had received,” she reaches for the box of tissues in the coffee table and blows her nose. “I found out that I was pregnant,” she finally says. 

You feel your heart stop beating and drop to your stomach. You grow nauseous at the news. “Oh,” you grab onto the arm of the couch as if you're going to faint. “I um,” you blink a couple of times. “Is it someone else's?” The words stumble out before you can process the implication. 

“I never cheated on you,” she states sharply and she looks at you this time. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I mean, can you blame me for asking? You didn't tell me until today. You broke up with me instead of telling me. I can't think of why you would do that unless the baby wasn't mine or —” you stop talking as you look at her and clamp your mouth shut. Daisy avoids your eye contact as you recall her behavior that night. She didn't want to be a mother. She kept telling you that as she tried to leave. “Oh,” you react again. The tension in your body releases and you try to figure out how you can address this conversation respectfully. “You decided not to go through with the um the uh pregnancy? Is that what you're telling me?” You try to keep your tone even and your features neutral, trying to avoid showing any insensitive emotions out of respect. 

Daisy closes her eyes as she starts to sob. “I couldn't go through with it. I'm not ready.” She says through her tears. You nod your head because you don't know what to do or how to properly react. “It wasn't an easy decision, you know? I thought about it for a couple of weeks and I thought about telling you but I was so scared that you would be happy and I would have the baby to please you and I just —” 

“Daisy,” you call her name until she stops rambling and you enter her personal space, pulling her against your chest to let her know that you are there for her. “Daisy, I get it. It's okay. I’m not ready for another kid. Shh, shh, it's okay. It's your body, I would have never asked—” 

“I know you wouldn't have but I would have done it! For you!” She interrupts. “Because I know how much you love kids and you're a great parent. You're so great with Rachel and I know how much she wants siblings and I just couldn't. I couldn't be the one to give you that. But if I told you, I would have gone through with it and I would have been miserable,” she continues to ramble. You pull back and get her to look you in the eye. 

“Daisy, you're not listening,” you say calmly. “Breathe with me. Okay?” She nods with you and you count to four with your fingers as you inhale through your nose. Then you put down the four fingers as you hold. You lift them back up as you exhale. And you repeat the process with Daisy until she appears a little more relaxed. “Daisy, recently I've been asked by my ex-wife to have more kids with her and I told her no. I — this is going to sound horrible but — I wasn't ready to be Rachel's parent. I love her, she is my world. But it took me longer than anyone realizes to be comfortable being her parent. I wasn't ready and I know that a lot of parents will tell you that none of them were ready and that's,” you wave your hand to the side. “It's quite clear that they weren't and I don't think it should be that way.” You shake your head. “Daisy, I'm telling you right now that I'm not ready for another child. When you told me about the pregnancy right now I nearly threw up. You made the right decision. I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you for making this decision on your own. It's your choice, I'm just sorry that I didn't make you feel like you could come to me about this. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you.” Daisy closes her eyes and leans against your chest. 

Neither of you talk for a moment. Allowing yourselves to process and accept the truths that each has shared. You think about how that night might’ve gone differently. You wouldn’t have lived with Wanda for almost two weeks. You wouldn’t have gotten as close to Wanda as you have. You would have been having back-and-forth conversations with Daisy. You would have developed a stronger relationship. Maybe. It could have turned sour. She could have grown distant and resented you or herself for the decision. Who knows? That wasn’t what happened. So it doesn’t matter now. But you can’t help but think where you could have been now had things happened differently. 

“Did you deal with this alone?” You eventually ask her. Daisy shakes her head against your chest. You’re surprised she is still resting against you because normally she couldn’t stand the smell of your sweat and the other odors that come from manual labor when the two of you were together. “Jemma?” She nods against you. “Can I ask, uh, what… or why did you bring this to me now?” You ask carefully. 

You feel Daisy take a deep breath and this is what pulls her away from you. She wipes her face and sits against the back of the couch. She plays with the rings on her fingers and flexes her jaw. “I didn’t get the abortion until a couple of weeks ago,” she admits. “I almost went through with the pregnancy because,” she takes another shaky breath. “Jean was at the same clinic I was at to make the appointment. I spilled my guts to her because Jemma had to leave halfway through since it wasn't the appointment and Jean was there when I had second thoughts. It took me a couple of weeks to even go in because I was in denial for a bit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. Then I saw the sonogram and I,” she shakes her head and looks up to the ceiling. “I had second thoughts.” She shrugs her shoulders and you take one of her hands to offer your support. It’s not an easy decision for most. That's assuming that it's ever an easy decision for anyone. “Jean offered to pay for my doctor bills and prenatal care if I decided to follow through with the pregnancy and gave her and Anna the baby and never told you about any of this.” You drop Daisy’s hand and turn away from her. 

You stand up with that nauseous feeling again, not sure what to do about a betrayal of this caliber. You know that Jean has a tendency to do anything and everything to get what she wants when she wants it but… This was too far. “I can’t fucking,” you shake your head. You want to punch a wall or break something but you can’t. You can’t afford the injury. You can’t afford the plaster to fix the wall.  You can’t afford to replace the things you have. You can’t afford any of this because you thought you were paying off debts before interest can build on them. You thought you were doing everything right. You thought you could trust Jean. You can’t believe she would go so far as to put Daisy through something like this. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Daisy begs, “I was confused and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I only said yes at first because I thought you would be allowed to be in their life and I thought you would like that and–” 

“I’m not upset with you,” you cut her off. “It’s not your fault,” you try to focus on your breathing but you can’t calm down. You can’t focus on anything. You don’t know how someone can be so deranged. You look at Daisy and you feel so guilty for what happened to her. The position she was put in. It makes sense why one day Jean is ready to cut your head off for saying no and then next she’s perfectly fine. What kind of person could be so deceptive? What kind of person… you huff through your nose. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you say to Daisy in the softest tone you could muster up. “You shouldn’t have… She shouldn’t’ve…” you shake your head and close your eyes. 

Daisy stands up and takes your white-knuckled fist and massages the tight skin until you release your grip. “I am going to be okay. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just, I don’t know. At first the offer was that I just give them the baby. I wrongfully assumed that also meant giving you the baby. Then she eventually told me that you would not know that the baby was even yours,” she shakes her head. “I couldn’t put myself in the middle of this. I couldn’t put anyone in the middle of that. I didn't want to be part of why Rachel’s parents grew to hate each other. You guys are such healthy examples for her.” You begin to grow upset again thinking about how Jean deceived Daisy. How she was ready to deceive you. It was one thing to ask you to knowingly not be allowed in your child's life. But to go behind your back and essentially kidnap what almost was your child… you couldn’t believe it. 

“When I had the chance to think about it, I didn’t want to give birth. I couldn’t go through with it so without telling her, I went through with the abortion because that’s what I wanted.” Daisy closes her eyes as tears slip out and she continues to rub your hand. Something she learned that can keep you grounded. “The only thing that has been tearing me apart about this whole thing is how much of it was being kept from you. I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. You deserve to know.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” you state as you watch her rub your hands. You clench your jaw as your eyebrows knit together. Normally an action like this would calm you down but the information was far too upsetting. “I need to go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I just can’t be here right now.” You pull your hand away. 

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Daisy tries to pull you back to her. 

“Trust me, right now, that’s what’s best for everyone,” you say as you hold your hand up to stop her from coming any closer to you. Daisy stares at you, wanting to be in your arms again. Wanting to feel that comfort that you brought her. Both in the past and just before she dropped the bomb on you. But you weren't someone that sought after touch when you were going through something. You retreated. You isolated yourself. At least, that's what you did when you were with her. She might never know that there are other sides to you. Especially not after tonight. 

“Okay,” she says just above a whisper. “Okay,” she repeats as she walks to the exit. “I'm sorry for everything, again,” she says as she steps into the hallway. “Please, don't do anything stupid.” She disappears, leaving the door open. 

You stare at the door as you think of what you want to do. You think about getting into your car but you're afraid that if you do, you'll drive into a tree or worse. You'll drive to Jean’s house. You couldn't do that to Rachel. You check that you have your keys, phone, and wallet in your pockets and then you lock up your apartment on your way out. Stepping out onto the concrete sidewalk outside of your apartment building you look every which way. There are bars and restaurants down each way. You could easily find somewhere to drink but that's not what you want to do. So you start walking. 

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You walk until your legs begin to ache and your feet begin to hurt. You find yourself at a dock, there are many boats parked but you find a space without one. You sit at the ledge and look out to the water and breathe. The smell of the salty water is calming. You watch as the water moves causing the reflection of the lights to dance. You allow yourself to grieve because even though you didn't want another child, you contributed to almost bringing another life into the world. It was a weird feeling. You're not upset with Daisy for making her choice, you are grateful to her. But you still feel the loss. You didn't understand the feeling but you let yourself feel it. Because even though you don't understand why you feel the way that you do, you don't have to justify or explain it to anyone. You can just allow yourself to feel whatever you want to. 

Then you grieve the relationship you thought you had with Jean. You can't believe she would pull something like this. You don't understand where an idea like that would come from out of her. You don't know how you'll be able to move past this. You feel like she took everything the two of you built together over the years and tore it apart bit by bit. You feel disgusting. You feel used. You take deep breaths as you feel it all. Hoping to release it in a healthy way. It was done, there wasn't much else that you could do about it now except to confront her. You couldn't do that until Sunday.

When you stand up to leave, you slip and fall into the water. You don't try to swim at first. You let the water move you. Trusting that it won't take you away. That it won't pull you under and shorten your time on this planet. You just float in the water. Eventually, the need for air is too great and you swim up until you break the surface with a big gasp. 

You pull yourself up onto the dock and start walking home. You are grateful for the bulky phone case when you pull it out of your pocket to find that the phone is perfectly fine. You use the map application in order to navigate your way home. When you arrive at your destination you shower and eat a microwavable meal. You fall into your bed after taking a sleep aid and fall asleep. 

The next day, at work, Wanda stops by the job site around lunch time. You walk into Pietro’s office and find the two of them laughing with takeaway meals in front of them. You still feel horrible from the night before. But hearing her laugh heals the wounds inside your heart. 

“Y/n!” Wanda grins. “I brought you something too,” she holds up a container. You look at the container and try not to show that you have anything wrong with you by forcing on a smile. 

“You didn't have to,” you say as you move to the sink to wash your hands before you join them. “I appreciate this. Is there an occasion I'm not aware of?” You ask as you open the container. The aroma of your favorite food should have made you happier, instead you began to feel nauseous again. It has nothing to do with the food or Wanda's presence and everything to do with the feelings that you're suppressing. 

“No, I had lunch with Tony yesterday and it reminded me how much I enjoy having lunch with other people,” she shrugs. “Isolation can become a bit of a downside when it comes to working from home for me sometimes.” 

You nod, “Makes sense. Why don't you do the hybrid method? That's what Daisy did with school. She would do online classes and in-person classes,” you suggest before you take a bite. You chew slowly because you do need to eat. No matter how sick you're feeling. 

“That's a good idea,” Pietro agrees. “You could finally get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” 

Wanda makes a distasteful face, “I don't know. Getting to know people always leads to getting stuck in the middle of their drama.” She shakes her head. “I think I have enough of my own.” 

Pietro shrugs, “You never know. Sometimes it's good to hear about other people's drama. It makes your life sound better. Why do you think I still talk to you? Just because you're my sister?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she punches her brother on his shoulder. “Hey! It's not my fault, you have the most dramatic life out of anyone I know! Y/n,” he nudges you, “back me up here!” 

You are snapped out of your head and try to catch up with the conversation. You look between them cluelessly. “I'm sorry, I probably have her beat when it comes to a dramatic life.” 

Pietro shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Other than that baby thing, you are relatively drama free. That drama even ended pretty well from what I remember.” 

You feel a little light headed as you are reminded by the development of that issue. That there is a new ending to the situation. But you don't tell him. You don't want to tell him. You're not even sure you want to tell Wanda. Not right now at least. You nod, “Yeah, I guess you're right.” You turn to Wanda with a playful shrug. “Sorry, I tried.” Wanda shakes her head and the three of you share a laugh. 

“Whatever,” Wanda mutters as she stabs her salad with her fork. 

When lunch is over, you walk Wanda out to her car. You're quiet as she talks to you about her current project and updating you on her boys. Then she asks you if you are okay because you seem a little off. You shrug and stop when you reach the car. “Um the other day, Jean and Anna asked me to move my workshop out of their shed,” you scratch behind your ear. Feeling queasy saying her name. 

“Your workshop?” Wanda asks as she unlocks her car. 

“Yeah, just my tools and some leftover materials that I used on my last order,” you explain as you open the car door for her. 

“Last order? What do you mean?” Wanda reaches over and sets her purse on the passenger seat but she doesn't sit in her car just yet. 

“I have a little side business. Haven't I told you about it before?” You are surprised with yourself that you haven't mentioned this to her before. You try to think of a time that you might've brought it up before but you come up with nothing. There just hasn't been a reason to. Wanda shakes her head as she does the same. “Ah well, I have a small business. I take custom orders. Anything that someone wants built, I build it.” You pull out your phone and show her your website. “Just something to help with the bills whenever I can't get a lot of hours.” She takes your phone and nods, impressed by the stuff you have built in the past. “Anyway, the reason it's on my mind, they want me to move my stuff out of the shed. I can't really afford a place to be able to store everything and be able to have the space to work on orders.” 

“I have a shed that, admittedly, could use some care,” she says as she hands you back your phone. “You could set up shop in there, at no cost, of course.” 

“Wanda, I can't take you up on that offer,” you resist. 

“Yes, you can,” she insists. “Why couldn't you?” 

You look away and lick your lips as you are reminded of the night she rejected you. “I would need a lot of access to it when or really if I get another order. I don't know if it's a good idea for us to spend that much time together.”

Wanda nods as she understands where you're coming from. “Technically we wouldn't be spending any of that time together. You'd be working and I would be inside my house or doing something. Come on, we're friends. Let me help you with this.” 

You focus your eyes back to hers and you think about just how much she has been helping you. It doesn't feel like there is a balance in the friendship with how often she helps you compared to how often you help her. “I don't know Wanda,” you say as you bite your bottom lip in thought. You can't think of a good reason to say no so you don't. You shrug and nod at her. “Okay, yeah, I will take you up on that offer. Thank you, Wanda. I really appreciate it. Is it okay if I bring it all by on Sunday?” 

Wanda smiles and nods, “Of course, come by then. I'm sure the boys will be happy to see you and Rachel again. They were pretty upset about not having you guys there last week.” 

“Yeah, Rachel wasn't happy about it either. She prefers cooking with you a lot more than she does with me,” you say with a soft laugh. Wanda smiles at her shoes as she thinks about how much she prefers cooking with you over anyone else. She looks back up and locks eyes with you. She feels like an idiot for pushing you away but she doesn't feel ready to tell you how she feels about you. 

“I'll see you on Sunday,” she says and you nod as you repeat her departing words as you step away from her. You wave as she drives off and you go back to work without thinking about your problems with Jean and instead thinking about Wanda and how pretty she looked today. 

Saturday night you can't sleep. You toss and turn even after taking a sleep aid. Your heart pounds as your mind races about seeing Jean the next day. You can't stop running through scenarios of confronting her. Are you going to do it right away? Are you going to choke? Is the sight of her going to make you nauseous? Or worse. Is it going to cause you to actually vomit? Will you be able to see her without getting angry? You're going to have to be there longer than you want to because you have to load your truck with your stuff but are you going to make it through? You don't know. And you're exhausted by the anticipation. 

You are lucky to get in a nap before you have to pick up Rachel. You have to drink two cups of coffee before you feel awake enough to drive. On the drive over, you are yet again practicing what you're going to say when you arrive. You yawn as you park and shake your head to get you ready to knock on the door. You stare at the house as you try to remember that she is your friend. She was your favorite person once upon a time. You loved her. But it's all tainted now. She has slowly burned you out and ripped you to shreds. 

You step out of your truck and knock on the door. You look at the welcome mat to keep yourself calm as you wait. When there's no response, you ring the doorbell. You take slow breaths as you try to clear your mind. You can't think about what Daisy told you in front of Rachel. 

Anna is the one to open the door. Since Daisy hadn't mentioned her, you can tell yourself that she isn't someone that you should be upset with and you can tell yourself that she has no idea. At least until you can figure out when to confront them about this. You walk through the house to get to your stuff in the backyard but when you bring the tools to your truck you go through the gate that leads to the front instead of going through the house. You don't say anything to Anna, you don't even ask why she's the only person you've seen so far. You just focus on your task. Move your tools from the shed to your truck. When you're done, Rachel greets you with a tight hug that you are happy to reciprocate. It's a relief to see her and to hold her. 

Jean is on the phone in the kitchen and you don't feel the desire to interrupt her conversation just to confront her. You decide to leave it alone. You take Rachel to the car and help her get inside. “Did you hear the good news?” Rachel asks as you get settled in the driver's seat. You shake your head and ask her what the good news is. “I'm having a baby brother! My mommies said so. I'm going to be a big sister!” Your heart stops as your entire body freezes. How could they tell her something like that? How do they even know what the gender would have been? 

“Wait right here, I need to ask your mommies something,” you tell your daughter with a tight voice. You climb out of the truck and walk to the front door. This time, you enter without knocking and walk up to Jean as she ends her phone call. “How dare you,” you start bitterly. Jean is thrown off and her confused smile drops. “How dare you put Daisy in that kind of position. How dare you tell our daughter that she's going to be a big sister before there is a baby. There isn't going to be a baby! There never should have been. You shouldn't have tried to talk Daisy out of her decision. You are a cisgendered female, you should have some respect when it comes to another woman making a decision about her life and her body. Not only that, you are my best friend. Or at least you used to be. I thought you would have enough respect for me to tell me the moment you found out about Daisy's pregnancy. I was mistaken to believe the lies you told me but I will not allow that behavior to affect our daughter. So you better be a thousand percent certain when it comes to something as big as a sibling coming into her life before you tell her anything!” You take a split second to decide whether or not to continue and with how upset you are, you can't stop yourself. “And I was going to let Daisy tell you this herself but I will do what you should have done. She went through with her decision. There won't be a baby. Now I suggest that you either start looking into fostering or adopting — no. You should get your fucking head checked be clearly you are out of your fucking mind, Jean!” Jean slaps you clear across your face. The slap was loud and the impact was hard. It stings and you lift your hand up to your face in shock. 

“Get out!” Anna shouts from behind you. You are shaking with anger. You weren't aware that you had gotten so furious with the situation. You try to say more but Anna won't let you. Jean is in tears and looking down at her hand, shocked by her own actions. Anna steps in between you and her wife. “Get the fuck out of my house Y/n! Get out! Get out!” She starts pushing you backwards. You hold your hands up and shake your head. 

“You're both unbelievable. I'm going,” you walk out after Anna's last shove. You can't believe the reactions. You can't believe the lack of accountability. You storm across the yard and climb into the truck. 

“What's wrong?” Rachel asks in a scared little voice. You feel terrible seeing her shaken up. You sigh and close your eyes before you look at her. 

“Nothing sweetheart,” you say as softly as you can. “Nothing, let's just… we're going to go home and I'm going to go for a run and then maybe we'll stop by Wanda’s house to drop all of this stuff off later. How does that sound?” You try to make her feel more at ease. 

“Why can't we go to Ms. Wanda’s first? I really want to see Tommy and Billy and tell them about the good news!” She asks innocently and you have to close your eyes to calm down. You open them and start the engine. You need to distance yourself from this house. From Jean and Anna. You're starting to wonder if your ex’s behavior is being instigated by her wife. You aren't sure how you can find out. But it's definitely something to look into with the lengths she's gone through to make this idea of theirs happen. 

“Honey, mommies were mistaken. You're not going to be a big sister,” you correct her. 

Rachel frowns, “Yes I am. They said so. My mommies don't lie to me, Baba.” 

“I know that sweetheart, that's why I said that they were mistaken. That's not the same as lying, it's more like they didn't know what they were telling you wasn't true,” you take a second to glance at her. “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel nods with tears building in her eyes. “Awe baby girl, what's wrong?” 

“I really wanted to be a big sister,” she says as she wipes her tears. You feel bad as you continue to drive. 

“I know sweetie, I know,” you sigh as you start to reconsider their proposal. But you quickly shove that thought out of your mind. You cannot allow your daughters disappointment to change your mind on a matter of this magnitude. “Do you still want to go to Wanda’s first?”

“Yes please,” she says as she continues to wipe her face. “I want to see my friends.” You want to calm down before you see Wanda. You don't want to pull her into more of your problems. But you feel bad enough for taking away your daughters smile. So you suck it up and drive to Wanda’s house. You text her that you're on the way when you stop at a red light. 

When you pull up the driveway, Wanda is waiting outside with a smile. She knocks on the window and talks as you roll it down. “I don't care what you say, I'm helping you move the stuff into the shed.” Her wide smiles drops to an expression of concern when she sees the red mark on your cheek. She looks further into the truck and sees Rachel's face is red from crying. “What happened?” She looks you over and you shake your head. 

“Nothing, why do you ask?” You say, oblivious to the evidence on your face while you try to hide your frustration from the day. 

Wanda leans in as close as she can get. “Have you looked in the mirror?” She says in a low whisper. 

Your eyebrows knit together and you frown before you drop the visor mirror to check yourself out. Then you see the mark and you shut it. You want to curse yourself for not going home first. “I can't talk about it right now. Can we start moving this stuff?” Wanda nods and allows you to get out of the vehicle. You walk to the other side to help Rachel down before you start to take stuff down from your truck. You hand some boxes to Wanda and she leads the way to her shed. She talks the entire way about how she spent her entire Saturday reorganizing the entire space. You hardly listen as your mind replays the last hour. How Jean slapped you and Anna pushed you. How angry you felt —  no, feel. 

Once the pair of you set the boxes down Wanda asks again what happened and the words come out of you before you can stop them. You tell her everything from running into  Jemma to what happened with Jean just moments ago. Wanda is quiet as she stands there and processes. She doesn't look at you as she does. You shift your weight uncomfortably as you wait for a response. When she finally moves you don't expect her to hug you the way that she does. She holds you tightly in a warm embrace that breaks your walls down. 

“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against your chest as you break down in tears and she rubs your back. You let her hold you and comfort you in ways that you hardly ever allowed anyone to take care of you. You allow her to witness a side of vulnerability that you rarely let many see. 

After a bit of time the both of you stop crying. You and Wanda sneak into the house and each go to a bathroom in order to wash your faces and then get back to work. Together the truck gets emptied of the tools and materials in an impressive amount of time and was put away in the shed. When the both of you finish, Wanda gets a phone call and excuses herself to answer. You follow her inside to wash your hands. 

You get a message from Nebula and you feel slightly guilty when you do. You open the message and you clench your jaw as she admits how much she likes you and asks when she can see you next. The two of you went out on a date shortly after Wanda rejected you. It was an okay date but with everything going on, it doesn't feel right. You close your phone and head upstairs to check on the kids. As you do so you pass Wanda's office. Her door is slightly ajar. You don't mean to listen in but when you hear the words,  “Thank you for introducing me… yeah he has made me feel things I haven't felt before,” and,  “I feel like he understands me better than I understand me.” You feel your heart sink. You continue to walk to check on the kids as you try to tell yourself that you didn't hear the entire conversation so you couldn't possibly know what she was talking about. But a small voice in the back of your head is telling you that she rejected you because she found someone else. A reality that you'll have to accept if you and Wanda are going to continue to be friends. 

After you check on the kids you schedule another date with Nebula for the next Sunday after you drop Rachel off. Then you continue on with your night with Wanda and the kids. Doing your best to keep your mind off of everything else.

Chapter 19

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm

[mrwinterr]

The Nerve

Pairing(s): former!Steve Harrington x Female Reader; eventual!Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: The nerves of some people. 

Warnings: Cliché af. Toxic behavior. When they go low, I go lower. Revenge. Not a girls’ girl here bc once you fuck around w/ another girl’s man it’s “yes, and?” from there. Implied smut. Language. We’re probably not gonna like Steve (or even the reader for a bit) here. 

Disclaimer: Typical !former and !eventual pairing. Some time hopping. None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 

Pre A/N: This is embarrassing. I was in my villain era. I was certainly in the business of misery. I was angry (still am sometimes), so I wrote this. We all cope differently.

The nerve. 

She had the nerve to steal your boyfriend. 

It had been a few weeks since Steve broke up with you, only to start dating a girl you had harbored no ill will toward until that night. He even had the guts to reveal who she was and how long he had been losing interest in you. You weren’t going to lie, it hurt – a lot. Discovering his real need for “space” during the last two months of your relationship was painful to realize because in that time, while you were being understanding, he was finding a way to end things with you.

Looking back, you couldn’t help but dissect the memory. It was an ordinary day. School was let out for the weekend, and you were spending it with Steve, a cozy night in without interruptions since he was often left alone at home. The two of you lay on the couch, cuddled up, bodies parallel, his arms around you, the room dimly lit by the TV screen. 

“I have something I wanna talk to you about…and it’s been on my mind for a while,” Steve says, loosening his grip and pausing the movie that was mindlessly playing midway. 

“Okay,” you reply, pushing yourself up from the couch to make space for him to sit up. He shifted, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the carpeted floor, settling into a seated position and scooting aside to allow you room to sit back down next to him.  

The atmosphere shifted noticeably, and it made you nervous. The way he ran his hands through his hair and avoided meeting your gaze – it all felt ominous, and you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

“I met someone,” he revealed. 

It wasn’t the news you expected, and you could feel your heart sink into your stomach as you absorbed his words.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say, now turning your gaze to the ground too, unable to look at him. 

A whirlwind of emotions swept through you – hurt, anger, brokenness, betrayal. The signs had been there. Why hadn’t you seen them? He had been growing distant – more withdrawn, fewer “good mornings” and “good nights”, less calls, more canceled dates. You had been looking forward to tonight, thinking he was just preoccupied with work or his upcoming graduation, believing whatever he needed space for was resolved. Turns out, he needed space from you. 

You had so many questions, even though you weren’t sure why you needed the answers. In that moment, you wanted to know what you had done to make him lose interest in you. You had thought the relationship was salvageable. 

What? He was breaking up with you. 

When? He’d been feeling like this for almost two months. 

Where? At work.  

Who? The other girl he worked with, also attends Hawkins High, but she's a year above you, therefore had more classes and events with him. 

How? It just happened. 

Yeah, that last one was a classic, but not as much as him telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you both could stay friends. Bullshit. With Steve, would come her, and you couldn’t believe the nerve of her to pursue another girl’s boyfriend. You’d seen her while visiting Steve at his job, but you hadn’t felt threatened by her. The hurting phase was brutal, but now all you could feel for her was anger – after all, who didn’t know that you were dating Steve Harrington? 

She had the nerve to act all innocent.

The school hallways were not pleasant for you. A few days after the break up, rumors circulated that Steve left you for someone else, though apparently their relationship hadn’t been made public yet, sparking widespread gossip. 

How would you have known that though? His business wasn’t yours anymore. In fact, you’d made a deliberate effort to distance yourself from them because the breakup was still fresh. Fuck trying to be friends. This time you were the one that needed the space. The last thing you wanted was to think about them together. 

Steve had the audacity to point the finger at you because you were supposedly the only one aware of the relationship. Even when you tried to explain, he left you hanging. The disbelief on his face hurt to witness. He didn’t believe you. 

“How do they know about us?” Steve demanded as he approached you at your locker, hands on his hips in typical, upset Steve fashion. No hey, hi or hello. He just went right in. 

“I don’t know,” you scoffed, continuing to unload your textbooks from your backpack.

“Well, you’re the only one who knows,” he persisted, leaning in closer, determined to get an answer. “And your name is going around.” 

“Look, Steve,” you finally turned to face him, your tone sharp, catching him off guard. “Your new relationship isn’t my concern.” This is a side of you Steve isn’t used to. “Why would I go around telling everyone that you left me for her? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you a reason to think I’d do something like this?” 

You could see him reconsidering his accusation. The questions seemed to stump him, as if he knew the rumors were absurd and gossip wasn’t something you partook in. 

“Why don’t you go talk to your girlfriend and figure it out?” you suggested, turning back to your locker, not in the mood to continue the conversation. 

All Steve did was stare at you before shaking his head then going into a tangent of how some of the rumors were negatively affecting her when they weren’t true and how she shouldn’t have to endure them or receive any of its backlash…as if you did. But when he started saying something along the lines of how she wouldn’t do that because she told him she didn’t, you knew this was all a wasted effort on your end because he had already made up his mind. He believed her. 

Did he truly think you cared that much about them? Did he really think you'd stoop so low as to announce his new relationship? Did he ever really know you? 

She had the nerve to lie. 

Steve apologized to you when he discovered it was actually his new girlfriend that spread the news. He recognized his rash behavior and conceded that he should’ve believed you. Why would you waste energy on them? They weren’t worth your time anymore. 

“Hey,” a voice calls from behind, and you turn to see Steve standing there, looking contrite. Unlike before, you receive a greeting.

“Hey,” you reply, briefly acknowledging him before returning to organizing your locker, now cluttered by your chaotic friend’s belongings - stashing the shit that no one would suspect the good girl to possess. It didn’t bother you much, except for the occasional stench it left behind. 

“You were right,” Steve admits, hands in his front pockets and moving to the side to look at you. Pausing your task, you wait for him to continue. “She was the one going around telling everyone that I left you…for her.” Boy, that was awkward and lowkey stung. It hadn’t even been that long and he didn’t fail to remind you how you all got here. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he continues, visibly ashamed, “I should’ve known better than to believe that.” His apology didn’t really move you. The damage had already been done. You were branded as the ‘psycho ex’ and all Steve had to do was trust you from the start. 

She had the nerve to act like a girls’ girl. 

She never directly apologized, but she had the nerve to claim that she harbored “no hard feelings” toward you. Hard feelings? Why? Because you’re the ex? Was she fucking stupid? How did she expect the girl whose boyfriend she stole to feel? Everything that came out of her mouth infuriated you.  

It was no ordinary day – it was your birthday, and your friend had organized a night out to celebrate. You never liked to make a spectacle of your birthday, but it was also a good reason to go out, distract yourself, and avoid dwelling on unwanted thoughts. 

“You’re lying,” your friend responds, baffled by what you just told him, “she really said that?” 

“She fucking did!” you exclaim, still grappling with her impeccable timing. She wouldn’t know it was your birthday or would she care. 

“Jesus. Of all the days…” he says with a low whistle before attempting to lift your spirits, “But, hey, we’re not gonna let her ruin your birthday!”

“I know, and I won’t!” Your voice wavers as you try to convince yourself this wouldn’t affect you. You were determined to not cry today, but the truth was, it still hurts. Her little stunt reopened a wound that was almost healed.  

“He’s such a fool,” he remarks, followed by a brief silence. You were preoccupied with regaining your composure, fighting back tears, unable to respond. “He didn’t know what he already had in front of him. Lucky son of a bitch,” he added, and you’re not sure if he was speaking to himself or he meant to say that outloud, but you heard him nonetheless. 

“Stop,” you reply, turning your away from him. You’re not gonna cry. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eddie.”  

“What am I trying to do?” He asks adjusting to move to your line of vision, but you keep your focus averted.

“Hype me up, make me feel better…I don't know,” you answer, finally meeting his gaze, the tears now freely falling. 

He understood how hard you were on yourself, replaying what could’ve been avoided. Your relationship with Steve wasn’t something you anticipated. Steve pursued you, and initially, you were fine with a casual fling, but he insisted on something more serious. You had doubts about whether he was the right person, but what if he was? It’s a reminder that life isn’t planned; it’s lived.

Eddie’s support during your breakup was invaluable. He watched you cry a lot – at home, at his trailer, at school, at work. He watched you criticize yourself for the breakup. He watched the light go out and he was determined to reignite it. He simply wanted his friend back. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he assures, hand over his heart, “everything I’ve said is sincere,” accompanied by that charming, stupid trademark Eddie grin. He was so endearing. 

“Well,” you begin, but he’s got you. He had a knack for flipping the script, leaving you wondering why you were arguing in the first place. 

Despite your curiosity about what attracted Steve to someone else and away from you, you had to accept that you probably wouldn’t ever know. 

If there was one thing you knew about Steve, it was that when he falls, he falls fast. With that realization, it sparked a wicked plan in your mind. If you could bag him once, you could probably do it again. 

The nerve. 

You had the nerve to lie. 

The only person you had confided in about your breakup with Steve was Eddie, and you had the right to do so. You needed a friend. You also knew he had no interest in high school gossip, so it couldn’t have been him that told the whole school. You trusted him. 

People liked to talk and they didn’t hold back. Although the lies bothered you, you had a strong support system in Eddie and his friends. If any group could shrug off that nonsense, it was the Hellfire Club.

“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?” Steve asked, continuing to badger you, even suggesting Eddie as the culprit. You knew Steve well enough that he couldn’t take gossip about him for this long. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and not all of the rumors were in his favor. 

“Eddie?” You asked, confused but also guilty because you had done just that. 

“Yeah, I know how much time you’ve been spending with him lately.” 

“Why is that any of your business?” You countered, a bit snappy.  

“Because,” Steve began, grasping for an excuse, “people talk.”

“And you really think Eddie would? He doesn’t care about shit like this or you-”

“Please,” he interrupts with an eye roll, in the annoying way Steve always did. 

“You don’t know him,” you defended your friend, “so get off your high horse and go talk to your girlfriend about your problem,” leaving him questioning everything again.  

You had the nerve to act all innocent. 

The birthday incident, as you tried your best to keep thoughts of Steve at bay, she unexpectedly approached you, alone, feigning sweetness and innocence. You listened as she spun her lies – lies about overhearing people gossip about her, Steve, and you; lies about rumors allegedly started by you; lies about having “no hard feelings” toward you. It was all fabrication.  

Politely, you attempted to have her understand your side of the story, clarifying that you had not spread any rumors and had discussed the situation with Steve, as civil as that could’ve been, and ultimately, how she should address the matter directly with him. What were you now? A couples counselor? You didn’t have time for this or them.

You weren’t going to start lying to yourself now, but it angered you. All you saw was red. So, you gave it right back, feigning innocence yourself, doubling down on it, subtly planting a seed of doubt in her mind. 

“Watch out for him,” you said sincerely, your warning devoid of malice. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked genuinely curious. God she was fucking stupid. Did she think she would walk out of this situation without a scratch? She had just proven she was not a girl’s girl for actively pursuing your boyfriend while he was with you. The world is a jungle, and it was every woman for herself now. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, maintaining composure, “...just a girl looking out for another girl,” you added, offering her an innocent, warm smile. 

“Okay,” she replied, sounding confused and a bit shaky. You could sense her discomfort, and she deserved to feel uneasy. 

Ultimately, you weren’t lying. Yes, she should watch out for Steve – what made her think he wouldn’t treat her the same way he did to you? However, if you were in her shoes, you’d watch out for yourself. 

You had the nerve to not act like a girl’s girl too. 

The sudden breakup with Steve left some unresolved feelings, but he was now with her, not you, yet that didn’t stop the urge to act on them. Steve was weak and you realized that soon enough. 

With your head turned to the side, you observed him, listening to his ragged breathing, how his lips parted, emitting small puffs of air, his chest rising and falling, the sweat that dripped from the top of his forehead, and eyes closed in post-bliss. Your gaze traces the freckles that speckled his skin as you studied his profile, wrestling with the questions swirling your mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Why fight for him?

He didn’t respond immediately, but didn’t linger too long before replying, “Not really.” 

“We’re gonna have to,” you said and it sounded almost pathetic. Why were you trying to hold onto him? 

“I…I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” and when he said that, you knew that actually meant this was done. He was done with you. Why did you want to change his mind?

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew it had to end eventually. There was no intention or hope of remaining friends. 

That night, you went home feeling hurt, broken, angry, and disgusted. You knew what you did was wrong, a sad attempt on your part. He probably wanted that reaction from you. You were more than willing to feed his male ego. What guy didn’t enjoy the idea of two girls vying for him? If it was easy for her and it was easy for you, it would be easy for another. What made him so special?

You had the nerve to try to steal her boyfriend.

It was a toxic situation. You found yourself doing exactly what she had done to you. What did that accomplish? Bragging rights and a fleeting sense of revenge, perhaps, but it didn’t bring you and Steve back together. It only highlighted how destructive you both could be. You sought revenge at the expense of homewrecking a relationship. You were no better, yet in a twisted way, you didn’t care. You wanted them to feel the same pain you did, even though deep down, you knew Steve was capable of sabotaging his own relationships. 

You told Eddie of the misdeed, feeling ashamed. He wasn’t upset with you. He understood that you would follow your own path no matter what. He didn’t have the right to control you. Both of you recognized that this would only lead to your own suffering. Unfortunately, you had to learn this lesson the hard way. 

“I know you’re upset and that’s okay,” he tries to console you, “...your feelings are valid.  But I don’t think you need to find the answers to everything. They’ll just lead to more and it’ll never end.”

He was right. The more you held onto what happened between you and Steve, the more questions arose. He was living rent free in your head. 

“I just-” you struggled, trying hard to make sense of the situation, “I just wanna know. What did I do wrong? How did he get bored of me? When was I not enough?” 

“Have you ever heard of the 80/20 rule?” he asked, and you shook your head. “It’s basically a theory that when someone cheats, they are drawn to the 20% in another person that is missing in their current partner.”

You’re not sure how much that helped you because it begged the question…”And I know what you’re thinking, so stop that!” Eddie’s quick to read you, “you’re lacking nothing, alright?” 

“Everyone knows I’m not a big fan of Steve Harrington,” he said, scrunching up his face at the mention of his name, “...but he’ll regret this. His type always comes back…fucking roaches.” That last remark elicited a small cackle out of you. 

He then took your hand in his. It’s a stark contrast to your own hand – larger, a bit rough, warm and slightly clammy – but it provided a sense of comfort. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at your hands clasped together until he gives it a light squeeze and says, “He’ll realize he was much better off with the 80% he already had.” 

Damn Eddie Munson. He was too good to you. It gave you a new perspective. Why were you being so hard on yourself? Why were you trying to convince yourself that the relationship’s downfall was your fault? It was Steve who started pulling away from you. It was Steve who did pull away from you. It was Steve who was actively pulling away from you. Everything that happened wasn’t solely on you. 

These kinds of things happen to everyone every day. Feeling hurt, broken, angry, betrayed and ashamed were normal and acceptable emotions. You just have to learn to swallow your pride and accept this as part of life. You live and learn – not necessarily forgive or forget, but move on in your own way. 

You were once happy without Steve, and you could be happy again. You gave up or changed a lot for Steve, losing sight of what made you happy. Now, you were committed to reclaiming your happiness. Fuck, when did you start crying? 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced in concern, bringing his other hand up to wipe the stray tears running down your face. 

“How do you do it?” you asked, looking down to compose yourself. 

“Do what?” he responded, amused. You didn’t answer verbally, but twist your hand in his to thread your fingers between his. The small smile on your face conveyed your question, softening his features. It’s a rare emotion from Eddie, mixed with vulnerability accompanied with a newfound awareness. 

He brings your now interlocked hands to his lips but not before saying, “...because I’m a big fan of you,” and kisses the back of your hand gently.

The nerve.

Steve had the nerve to lie. 

Several months have passed with minimal communication from Steve. Occasionally seeing them together around school and town didn’t bother you anymore – well, not entirely. You can’t deny it still stirred up certain feelings, but you didn’t give it a second thought and eventually they weren’t a blimp on your radar. The past no longer consumed you, but unexpectedly, it started consuming Steve. 

Evidently, he still knew your schedule and had been desperately trying to find a chance to talk to you – just the two of you, without Eddie, other friends, teachers, classmates, or family around. When he approached you, you were confused; unsure if he was still with her or anyone else. You intentionally tuned out gossip and never paid attention to their situation. Besides, you had a better reason to not care about Steve anymore. So, when he starts pouring out his feelings, you take it with a grain of salt, this time with a clearer mind. 

“Hey,” Steve calls out as you step out of your front door, ready to head out with your ride nearby. 

“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply with uncertainty. 

“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Now might not be the best time,” you respond with unease. 

“Please, just give me five minutes,” he begs, his eyes full of hope and pleading. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Despite your instincts telling you to stand firm, you reluctantly agree to hear him out, which you soon regret. 

Steve begins with an apology and offers to explain his actions. What more was there for him to explain? You no longer desired an explanation. It was simple – he grew tired of you, became interested in another girl, and left you; perhaps grew tired of her too and now he’s back. You had moved on from your failed relationship with Steve months ago. However, he felt he “owed” you an explanation. Was this all a joke to him?

The more he spoke, the more you got lost in your thoughts trying to comprehend the reality that he was standing before you, admitting to his mistakes, and seeking a second chance. His voice started to fade into the background as you felt the weight of deciding how to respond, all while knowing your ride would arrive at any moment. When the pressure got too much, you finally managed to step up. 

“Steve,” you interrupt, “I don’t know what you want me to say to you.” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just–” he’s cut off by the sound of loud, muffled music, causing both of you to turn your attention to the bulky van that just pulled up in front of your house. 

You glanced at Steve sending him a tight lip smile before taking the short few steps to the curb, not looking back, knowing you were never going to get that "owed" explanation.

Steve had the nerve to try to act all innocent.

The atmosphere in Eddie’s van is tense the moment you climb into the passenger seat. Neither of you expected to see Steve today, let alone right before a date. And it happened. The lingering feelings had unearthed between you and Eddie and you welcomed it, a testament to your decision to move on from Steve. Right when things are looking up, life throws you a curveball in the form of your ex. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously, stealing a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you reply unconvincingly, then quickly retract, “no,” followed by a sigh, “I mean, I was…I am. I’m just annoyed at Steve right now. I swear I had no idea he was stopping by.” 

“You’re fine,” Eddie assured, dismissively waving his hand to convey that it wasn’t a big deal to him, though his mind was racing with a million questions. When he saw Steve with you, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Steve there? What were you two talking about? What did Steve want? Had you been in contact with him and not mentioned it? Not that Eddie could control who you talked to, girlfriend or not. 

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to say he ‘respects’ my feelings!” Your emotions spill out as you unload on Eddie, “After everything he did to me, does that look like someone who ‘respects’ my feelings?” 

“It is a pretty shitty thing for him to do,” Eddie agrees, not just coming from the boyfriend perspective, but from any perspective. 

Steve thought that by acknowledging your feelings upfront, it would ease his case. However, upon reflection, you realized it was more about saving face for the hurtful way he left you, attempting to depict himself in a more favorable light.

“Right?!” The audacity Steve had to arrive at your door, unannounced, just before your date with Eddie. God, Eddie. It was a brief but uncomfortable moment. Steve knew you were friends with Eddie, he never bothered to understand the depth of your relationship because he didn’t care enough to meet your other friends. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say, feeling remorseful.  

“For what?” he chuckles softly because can’t believe what you're apologizing for.

“I didn’t expect to see Steve today,” you explain. 

“That’s not on you,” he assures, “remember, I told you they always come back.” 

“True,” you agree, “but that’s not what I want.” 

“What do you want, then?” he asks.

“You,” you admit, “just you, Eddie,” reaching for his free hand to hold for assurance. 

Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to fool you.  

Steve had the nerve to try to steal you from your boyfriend. 

During the initial months, Steve made attempts to regain your favor. You questioned repeatedly whether you could genuinely consider being just friends with him. That had been his original intention after breaking your heart, but he failed to uphold his end of the deal. Was it worth attempting to rebuild a friendship with him? Would it reflect poorly on your judgment if you did? Could you bear being around Steve in any capacity? If Eddie hadn’t arrived on time for your date that evening, you didn’t know how much more of Steve's admission you could take before you hit another breaking point. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Steve begins, pausing, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully chooses his next words, “I miss you.” He observes your lack of response before continuing, “I miss us. We worked…and I really want to try and get to that again…to what we had.” 

You can see it was difficult for him to admit this. Seeing your unphased reaction, he begins to ramble and talk out of his ass, “I mean, only if you want to. I can understand if you don’t. I do respect your feelings.” 

You knew you didn’t have the mental or even emotional capacity to deal with Steve at that moment, and fortunately, the interaction didn’t progress any further. More importantly, it didn’t ruin your date with Eddie. 

Steve’s graduation, once an event you looked forward to celebrating, was now a canceled event on your calendar. While you wished you could’ve joined in celebrating, Eddie had unfortunately not passed his exams again. Hopefully, on his third attempt, he will be able to graduate and walk the stage with you next year. 

You had started working at a music store, which you enjoyed because it allowed you to be surrounded by something you loved – music. Eddie particularly appreciated the employee discount, a place to hang around during your shifts, though he seemed less excited about the store’s proximity to a certain video store.

It was inevitable that Steve would eventually walk in. Initially, your classmate and presumably Steve’s co-worker, now friend, Robin accompanied him. Over time, Steve started coming in alone, conveniently when Eddie wasn’t hanging around. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid to be alone with him, and Eddie trusted you; he simply didn’t trust Steve. Despite Steve not being the same person from high school, multiple events humbling him, his efforts to revive your past relationship persisted. Although his approach was more subdued than before and masked as friendship, there was still an underlying motive. It was no secret either that you were in a relationship with Eddie. 

Given the small-town geography of Hawkins, you accepted Steve wasn’t going to just disappear. You managed to adapt to his presence. While you couldn’t deny that this attention boosted your ego, you were resolute about not revisiting the past with him. 

“So, I’ve got a copy of Pretty In Pink hot off the press,” Steve announced, showcasing proof of the video tape during another lunch break he spent at your workplace with you on a slow day. “Interested in watching it with me tonight?” he asked, trying to sound smooth and hopeful, adding and emphasizing “as friends,” though not convincingly considering you haven’t agreed to any plans with Steve let alone as that. 

You glanced at him, then at the tape in his hands, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I’m not really into rom-coms,” you replied with a small smile. 

“What? Since when?” he asked, visibly surprised. 

“Since forever…” you answered with a light laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. It internally annoys you because as a former partner, he should’ve known that.

“Oh,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter between you. 

“Yeah,” you drawled, trying to fill the ensuing awkward silence. Fortunately, the door chimed, signaling a new customer – saved by the bell, literally.  

“Babe, you’re gonna love me! I convinced Robin to save me a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and she fucking delivered,” Eddie exclaimed excitedly about tonight’s movie, barely noticing Steve’s presence until he reached the register. “Oh, hey, man.” 

It’s amusing yet endearing to see Eddie straighten up and square his shoulders around Steve, as if they were in competition. You couldn’t blame Eddie for feeling that way, though he really had no reason to worry he’d lose. 

“Hey,” Steve replied, shoving the copy of the romantic comedy aside, embarrassed that he had forgotten your preference for horror movies. 

As you and Eddie enthusiastically discussed the sequel, Steve felt out of place, as if you and Eddie were in your own little world, completely forgetting he was still standing there. He couldn’t contribute to the conversation because he hadn’t seen the first movie and didn’t know anything about it to share in the excitement. Eventually, he quietly slipped away with the tape in hand, on the short trek back to Family Video concluding his lunch break. 

The notion of ‘forgive and ‘forget’ was bullshit. While you could be civil, deep down, you still harbored hurt and anger over what happened. Much of the past year was spent in an emotional decline that affected various aspects of your life – home, social interactions, physical and mental well-being. Now, however, you were focused on reclaiming your happiness. Places and things around town that once reminded you of Steve and your past relationship no longer brought sadness; you were forging new memories with someone else.  

Whether it be in a friend or significant other, Eddie was like your rock. He was there from the start, witnessing your first date with Steve and even expressing his reservations about him. Yet, he knew he had to let you navigate life, love and mistakes on your own. Despite any reckless choices you made, even those that disappointed him, Eddie remained a source of comfort and support because he genuinely cared for you. 

Growing closer to Eddie was a breath of fresh air compared to Steve. You didn’t feel the need to impress Eddie; he was always impressed by you. Reflecting on it, you realized how much you had changed to fit in Steve’s world, which now seemed almost pathetic. With Eddie, you don’t have to change anything – your clothes, your diet, your friends, or your interests. He respected you for who you were. 

It’s ironic that just as you’re back on track and happy, Steve wants to interfere. What’s even sadder is that he promised an explanation but hasn’t delivered, yet he’s actively pursuing you. So what? You tell your ex you still have feelings for them and miss what you both had. What did he expect? That he was Steve Harrington and you’d jump back into his arms? No. He had moved on, supposedly, and so did you, finally. 

Part of you cherished early memories with Steve, and you weren’t going to fail to admit that during the initial attempts, you entertained the thought of what if you got back with him. However, he’s the reason why you struggled to move on and became recluse. Who knows? Maybe he learned from his mistakes or not. What he did to you, he did to her and would likely repeat to others. He only proved that second chances sometimes didn’t matter because rarely do people change. You concluded you couldn’t be more than what you currently were to Steve. 

He was the one who chose to end the relationship. He was the one who decided you weren’t enough for him. He was the one who chose to engage with another woman. He was the one who strung you along. He's the one who decided to cut you off. And now, he’s the one seeking a way back in. It was comical because all the tactics he used the first time he convinced you to go out on a date with him didn’t work this time. It had him trying harder and he was failing miserably. You were now the one living rent-free in his head. 

The events of this whole situation have allowed you to build emotional strength and learn to love yourself and someone else again. You were happy, and happy with Eddie. You weren’t going to let something silly as an 80/20 rule or a past relationship with Steve interfere with that happiness.

Yet, it goes to show the nerves of some people. 

Post A/N: I wish I had this happier ending in real life. Please like, comment and/or reblog. It’ll motivate me to write more and you know also help my self-esteem.

[ciaomarie]

Part 2: What Then?

I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.

Photo Credit @drrav3nb /  drrav3nb.tumblr.com

"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"

Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.

He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.

"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.

"Nothing cousin."

"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"

Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.

"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."

Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.

"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."

"What?"

"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"

With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.

The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.

"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.

Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.

"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."

Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.

"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."

Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true. 

Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.

After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.

"So, how did you find me?"

"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."

She shrugged thoughtfully.

"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."

He nodded.

"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.

Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.

"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."

Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.

"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."

She nodded.

Carmy set her hand down.

"It's late. I'll drive you home."

With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.

As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.

Probably.    

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 6

It's my birthday, so here is my gift to all you lovely people :)

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: brief mentions of HYDRA approved "science", insecurities

Word Count: idk ill look later

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5]

Meeting with the contact goes down without a hitch. You’re surrounded by scraggly trees and evergreens, snow heavy on bare branches and pine needles alike. You’re briefed on all the important information: who’s who, ongoing projects, expectations for your work. You nod along as you write down shorthand notes – really only intelligible to you, but you’ll burn them once you memorize the information regardless.

The rendezvous is short, but you’ll be seeing them again soon at your new ‘job’. You flip your notebook closed and dip your head briefly to acknowledge the end of the meeting. Olaf (not his real name) returns the gesture and stalks off, presumably heading back to the HYDRA facility.

You take your time getting back to the house – you want to give Bucky his privacy and time by himself to prepare for the workday ahead. You envy the monotony of working on vehicles all day: scouring the engine, finding the necessary parts, sliding under the metal frame and lying on your back for hours… 

Come to think of it, maybe you shouldn’t imagine lying on your back for hours in the same thought process that involves Bucky. Too many memories and too much pain.

Regardless, anything is better than working for HYDRA, even if you are actively working to sabotage them while you’re there. Yeah, Bucky is here to keep an eye on you and provide backup and know-how, but you’re the one that is pivotal to this mission. The one that needs to get in, get out, and get gone before HYDRA realizes how big of a mess they’re in.

You begin fine-tuning the personality and mannerisms that will serve you best here. Olaf had explained the specific work culture of the HYDRA facility during the meeting, so you’re now better able to imagine your life for the foreseeable future: work, work, work, kidnapping, torture, experiments, exhaustion. 

And going home to Bucky every night, your brain supplies. You mentally swat the words away. Of course you’re going ‘home’ to Bucky. He’s your immediate backup in case something goes wrong – he has to be close. Even if it’s not the intimate kind of close. Not the kind of close you used to be when this mission was first given to you last year. Not the close that originally had you posing as husband and wife, but the kind that now has Bucky as your brother.

A shiver courses through you at the thought, and you wrap your arms tighter around your snuggly bundled self. Bucky as your brother is the worst scenario you could possibly imagine, but everyone agreed that with the new tension between you and Bucky, romance wouldn’t be the wisest play up here.

A soft groan leaves your lips and you dip your head quickly in disappointment before popping back up and looking ahead. There’s no point in yearning for something that will never happen again. You need to actually move on, not just lie about it and pretend like you did. Bucky deserves that much. You deserve that much.

Taking a deep breath, you shift your focus back to the mission. It’s time to embrace the role, leaving behind the echoes of a love that was now confined to memories. You couldn't afford distractions or longing. HYDRA's demise depended on your unwavering commitment, even if it meant burying your heart's desires in the depths of your being.

***

You arrive home a short while later, the creaks and groans of the old house underlying the silence of the empty rooms. It seems that Bucky had left for work while you were out. Glancing over to the clock atop the fireplace mantel, you're taken aback to see how much time has passed. You must have been lost in your thoughts far longer than you had initially realized. 

You close the door softly behind you and shuffle out of your coat. You hang it on a peg beside the door where your and Bucky’s other coats reside, noticing how well the colors reflect both of your personalities. You can’t help but laugh at the blacks, grays, and dark blues of Bucky’s jackets that contrast sharply with the whites, pinks, and pastels of your own. The smile lingers until you kick off your boots and walk further into the quiet house.

The echoing silence pulses in your ears and makes you uncomfortable. You hadn’t been alone like this in a very long time – there was always at least one person in the next room or house or building that you could reach out to. But with Bucky at his ‘new job’ and no neighbors knocking on the door to welcome you to the neighborhood, you feel totally isolated.

With nothing else to do besides wallow in loneliness, you decide to throw on some music and dive into all the information the team has gathered on this HYDRA location. You’d skimmed the files on the way here yesterday, but now you had the time to really peruse. You run upstairs to change into comfortable clothes and throw your hair up and away from your face. You return downstairs and pull out your laptop, setting up camp at the kitchen table. You open your favorite music streaming app and hit play, starting up your ‘get shit done’ playlist. You bop your head to the beat and dig in.

***

Hours later, you hear the door creak open and Bucky steps inside, his face smudged with grease and a tired smile on his lips. You rise from your hunched position and stretch your aching muscles. The pain in your upper back and neck eases slightly as you greet him, "Hey, Bucky. Welcome back. How was your day at the garage?"

Bucky wipes his hands on a rag, glancing at you with a mix of exhaustion and genuine warmth. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fixing engines, tinkering with parts. It's a nice change of pace from our usual gigs."

You nod, attempting to keep the conversation light. "Well, at least you get to put your mechanical skills to good use. It must feel good to work with your hands again."

A brief moment of silence hangs between you as you both glance down to Bucky’s hands. His metal arm is covered by Stark tech that makes it appear as if he’d never lost it in the first place. You can tell how uncomfortable he is with the sight after working so hard and so long on learning to accept himself the way he is now. He picks at the fake skin, pulling it slightly away and letting it snap back into place. Bucky clears his throat, his voice a touch hesitant, "It doesn’t quite feel right, ya know?"

You shift in your chair, tucking your leg up under you. "No, I get it, Bucky," you say. “Doesn’t feel like you, does it?” You give him a smile and a small shrug of your shoulders, as if what you’re saying is common knowledge and an opinion that everyone shares, “If you ask me, I prefer the metal.”

Bucky's eyes soften and he stops fidgeting with the skin, letting his arms drop down to his sides. “Yeah,” he agrees, “me too.”

You nod, trying to hide the warmth swelling in your chest. "Anyway," you begin. “I’ve been going over the data that you guys have gathered in the last few months. There’s a lot here, huh?”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs and walks over to you, taking the chair opposite and stretching out his legs underneath the table. His feet encroach on your space and nearly rest underneath your chair, the table not really accommodating for his size. You pick up the one leg you still have dangling off the chair and tuck it under you with the other one. Bucky places his hands behind his head and leans back. “All of my memories of this place are hazy, but this place was a real piece of work.” A grimace mars his face and his eyes start to cloud over.

Wanting to shift the conversation away from the discomfort he may be remembering, you change the subject, "So, did anything noteworthy happen at the garage today? Any signs of HYDRA activity in the town?"

Bucky's eyes shift with a sense of purpose, grateful for the chance to discuss something less complicated. "Actually, there was something unusual. I overheard a couple of guys mentioning some military-grade vehicles arriving tomorrow for inspection. Might be worth investigating to see if they’re HYDRA."

As you delve into mission-related details, a sense of normalcy descends upon the conversation. The awkwardness and unspoken emotions linger in the background of your mind, but for now, the focus is on the task at hand. You understand that the mission takes precedence over personal matters, and you commit again to putting aside your feelings for the sake of success and Bucky’s peace of mind.

With a renewed determination, you delve into strategizing and planning, resolute in your shared mission to dismantle HYDRA's operations. 

Part 7

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

[whorergal]

SURPRISED?

summary: you're ghostface instead of ethan…

warnings: descriptions of blood & murder. overall really gory. language (cussing).

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, platonic sam carpenter x fem!reader, enemies quinn bailey x fem!reader

authors note: ethan and quinn aren't related in this one btw!! i really liked this idea so here's me trying my best to write it to the best of my ability 😭 also anika lives bc she's my pookie <3

——————————————————————————————

You sat in Quinn's room, making sure to stay clear from the windows she had purposely left open. Messages from Ethan and your friends in general went crazy as they wondered where you were and why you weren't answering. You rolled your eyes, understanding their worry but seeing as you were the cause behind their constant paranoia, you found it annoying to be bothered.

Quinn had left her room, saying she needed to not act suspicious. Her hookup would be making his grand reveal in a couple of minutes where you would be hiding in the closet, hoping to not be forced to witness something that would physically make you ill.

Noises outside the room got louder as you heard everyone laughing. It brought a smile to your face until you forced yourself to drop it.

Yes, you loved your friends. You had known Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sam your whole life—how could you not grow to love them? But, then again, you weren't planning their demise half the time you spent with them until last year when you grew vengeful.

Ethan was just an fortunate bonus you collected once moving to New York that happened to please Quinn, her being the mastermind and all. She liked the idea of getting someone like him to trust you just like how her brother Richie did with Sam.

Although, you did end up falling for Ethan and not just for the act. It was never in your head to make him love you just to hurt him in the end until Quinn meddled into your life and found out about you two. Then, the thought of your reveal and how he would react never left your mind. For some reason, it never crossed your thoughts that you would eventually have to face him seeing as you were too in love with him to kill him.

Your phone screen lit up, a picture of Ethan you took when he was studying popped up. You sighed, making sure to keep your voice low as you answered. "Hey, E."

"Y/N/N, where are you? I thought you said you'd be coming over tonight?" Ethan's worried voice caused your heart to swell. God, you hated lying to him.

"Yeah, I know but I'm still stuck in class," you lied very effortlessly. "My teacher offered to give us extra time to prepare for our next exam so I decided to stay. I might be around in an hour or two."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stayed with you," he immediately told you. "I hate knowing you're alone."

"E, I'm fine. I'm in a class full of thirty other people plus my professor," you reassured him, staring into the ceiling.

"Doesn't matter, Y/N/N. What if Ghostface attacks you on your way over? Or what if he's there at—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted his rambling. "Look, I've done this once before, he'll have to try a lot harder then sneak attacking me while I'm in an Econ class."

"Y/N, I'm being serious," Ethan said sternly.

"So am I," you countered with a breathless chuckle. "How about this? I'll call you when I'm on my way over and we can facetime so you can make sure I'm okay."

The line was quiet until you heard a soft, "okay."

"I love you, E," you told him sadly, hoping he couldn't tell as you continued. "Please be safe. If anything happens, don't play the hero, okay? I can't lose you."

You were saying that mostly for yourself. You'd be the one behind the mask and if he did get in the way, you'd be forced to do something you didn't want to do. You had managed to steer Quinn clear from him until tonight and the last thing you wanted to do was cause him any ounce of pain.

"I should be telling you that," he told you with a smile, you could hear it through his voice. "I'll try not to, alright. Just…I love you. If anything does happen tonight and I can't say it again, just know that I really love you, Y/N."

"Don't say that, E," you interrupted. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't control it, Y/N/N," he let out weakly. "But I'm sure nothing's gonna happen, okay? So just worry about your exam and call me later. I love you."

"I love you too, E," you mumbled sadly.

"Get a room!" you heard Mindy yell in the background.

"Minds, stop. It's cute," Sam defended you two.

"Bye, E." You laughed; you couldn't help it.

You hung up the phone, staring down at his contact picture for a second longer. For some reason, that one conversation alone had you rethinking your choices. Would it be so bad to back out of the plan now? Quinn and her dad can take care of the rest—you only had to do with those two college nerds deaths and another guy who you'd seen bothering Ethan on campus, but that was it. The rest was Wayne, which was only the bodega and Sam's therapist.

The thought of even having to possibly kill Sam, especially Sam, because of how close you were with her made you sick to your stomach. So, why were you still apart of a plan that ensured her death along with your friends?

Your second thoughts were interrupted by the swift open of Quinn's door. The redhead came barging in, wearing her pink silk nightgown that barely reached her thighs.

"Nice conversation with your boyfriend," she told you with a certain distaste in her tone.

"Had to make sure I didn't sound suspicious," you defended yourself, getting up from the floor but staying in the corner of the room. You were lying.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How long are you going to string him along? He's going to hate you when he finds out what you've done…that's if he survives that long."

"He stays out of our plan, remember?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she whined, walking over to mess with your black robe. "He takes you away from me all the time."

You shoved her away. "I told you, Quinn; you and your dad don't touch him. That was our only agreement."

"Yeah, it was when you realized you loved him," she had to point out. "He's turning you against us. Before you met him, you were excited to get revenge just like us."

"No, he's not but is it bad for me to not want to see the one person I actually care about harmed? It's not my fault that the only person you cared about was murdered."

"Just because you're apart of this plan doesn't mean I won't kill you," Quinn threatened as your words fell loosely from your mouth. You just couldn't stand when she badmouthed Ethan in front of you.

"Oh, shut up," you replied annoyedly. "Your dad won't even let you get behind the mask."

Quinn got quiet because it was true until she spoke, having to have the final word. "Fine, you got kills but do you really think Ethan would date a murderer? What're going to do when we complete act three? You think he's going to want to be with you after you helped kill his friends?"

"Fuck off," you snapped, letting her words get under your skin which you shouldn't have.

Quinn was going to continue bothering you but her phone went off. Her current boyfriend of the month was on his way up, forcing you to put the mask over your head and hide inside the closet.

Surprisingly, she didn't do much with him. You were sure she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make you watch her but it seemed she was excited to get on with the plan. It only made up of occasional frisky touching, some things that were still counted as sexual activities that did make you look away but nothing too extravagant.

He ended up leaving to her connected bathroom to take a shower, saying how he felt dirty. Quinn then started to call her dad, basically filling him in and then she turned to you, gesturing for you to make your grand appearance as she saw Danny standing by his window just like planned.

Your boots helped make you seem taller as you stalked toward her very slowly. Her back was facing you as she rambled on the call about something. Your hand gripped your knife as the thought of actually killing her surfaced in your head. No, you couldn't do that.

Noises coming from across the window caught your attention as you looked up, seeing Danny pointing at you while yelling words you couldn't hear. You tilted your head at him, walking away inside the bathroom.

Killing her boyfriend wasn't too hard as you caught him off guard but the scene had become gory. You'd taken your pent up anger on the poor guy, his blood covering the entire room that you didn't notice until you backed away from where he laid lifelessly in the tub, naked.

You grimaced at yourself and what you had done.

Walking back into the room, you decided to start the act earlier than Quinn wanted, knowing it would piss her off. You rose your knife and planted it straight into the mattress, startling her as she let out an authentic gasp.

She began to scream, making sure to keep it leveled so it didn't sound too suspicious to everyone outside her room. She needed them to believe she was having sex so they wouldn't interrupt before she could get in her costume, which was just covering her entire body with fake blood and a few slashes from your knife to make it even more realistic.

You pulled her up, wrapping your arm around her neck just as you saw Danny take a picture. Then you tossed her to the floor where she crawled to the fake blood and splattered it all over herself and her room.

A couple more seconds, she continued to scream until she stopped and you heard the group outside running toward the door until the silence made them halt.

"Showtime," Quinn whispered proudly.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You held her up, taking a second to let her collect herself before you threw the door open and charged her body at them. Quinn fell on Anika, taking her and Mindy down as the girl screamed at Quinn's "dead" body.

Then, everyone scattered. You saw Chad pull Ethan and Tara toward the direction of the door and you decided to let them go on the account it would mean Ethan was safe. You headed straight toward Mindy, slashing her in the arm, knowing it would be enough to make her weak as blood always made her squeamish to the point she would pass out at times.

Your goal was to get Mindy. That was the plan Quinn had created for you to do but you couldn't. The rush of it all hit you once you saw her hunch over to hold her wound, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood.

Anika was about to attack you for what you had done to her girlfriend but you got smacked in the face but a large object, sending you flying against the TV. When you peered through your mask, you saw Ethan's familiar light blue shirt and his curly hair, reaching down to help Mindy and Anika. Fuck, you thought. You should've known.

"Come on," he urged them both up.

You collected yourself quickly, slicing him in the arm and throwing him and Mindy against the table. The sound of his wince caused your heart to break but at least he wasn't in your way anymore.

Turning, you gripped Anika and pulled her up by the throat, which wasn't that hard at how light she was to carry. You slammed her against the wall and drove the knife in her gut. She let out a scream that actually made you sad. You could feel yourself losing grip on your knife. Thankfully, you were hit in the head again, causing you to fall to the floor and drop Anika.

Sam dropped the knife dispenser and went reaching for Anika as she carried her inside Quinn's bedroom. Ethan and Mindy were following closely behind. You got up and slammed against the door, causing Sam and Ethan to push against you even harder.

You stopped, remembering the second entrance to Quinn's room. You ran around and almost got through until you saw Ethan immediately run to slam the door in your face. Without thinking, you slipped through the crack and swung your knife around which sliced his skin again, making him even more annoyed, putting full force in his last push. You fell back just as you heard Sam and Mindy put a dresser against it so you couldn't enter.

Would it be so bad to let them go? You were about to give up until you looked behind at where Quinn was playing dead and she gave you a head gesture, as if telling you to get through that door and do something.

You started to kick it, slam your body against it, and slowly but surely the door started to crack. You could finally see in and you saw that they were trying to leave through the window on a ladder, thanks to Danny. You rolled your eyes, growing psychically exhausted but you continued to push against the door, the dresser beginning to shake.

Purposely, you didn't use your strength. You wanted them to survive. Poor Anika made you see that once you saw the gutted look on her face. You weren't close with her but she was a nice girl and she deserved to live. So did Sam and Mindy. Especially so did Ethan.

Sam went first, you caught sight of her hair just as she made it through. Then, Ethan of course had to make sure one of the girls went before him. Mindy gave Anika a kiss, thinking it'd be their last as she shakily made it on the ladder and got through. You continued to slam against the door as you watched Ethan pick Anika up from the bed, walking her toward the window where he helped her get on the ladder and kept it stable for her.

She took awhile to get through that you unfortunately made it inside just as Ethan was barely exiting the window. You stalked toward it slowly because you knew you weren't going to let him die.

"Ethan, you have to hurry!" Sam and Mindy screamed.

He turned around and the scared look on his face could've been enough to kill you. You slammed your knife on the window sill and grabbed the ladder.

They all were expecting some foul play on your end, encouraging him to be quicker but you didn't. Instead, you held the ladder down and stabilized it for him. Sam watched in shock. She was the only one who noticed your action that had been completely out of character.

Ethan made it inside Danny's apartment a second after and they all looked at you. You tilted your head at them, pulling your knife out. Then, you were gone. You didn't even wait for Quinn because you needed to get out of that costume and in Ethan's arms as quick as possible.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment VII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage

Word Count: 4.2K (she’s kind of long)

Part VI | Masterlist | Part VIII

When you arrived back in 12 you really thought your life was about to get a whole lot easier. Revolution or not, you were no longer a mentor so you wouldn’t be dragged out to the Capitol for a show every year. And after a couple years no one would remember you anymore.

As you and Haymitch returned home, you hesitated to say it, scared there was something you were missing. “Haymitch, are we done?”

“What?” he asked, very confused and a little scared.

“Are we done with all the Capitol shit? We’re not the mentors anymore. I’m just scared there’s something I’m not thinking of and we’re still in the game.”

He pondered for a second. “I think we’re out of the Capitol spotlight,” he answered with a smile. Hope and relief flooded into your chest as you jumped into one another’s embrace. You were both smiling and laughing like never before until it finally died down. “I think Katniss will need our help from time to time and we’ll probably be expected at the reapings but yeah, I think we’re done.”

You two had your own private celebration that night since it would be cruel to rub it in Katniss and Peeta’s faces. You just hoped they could churn out two victors quickly (separate years of course) so they could get out of the spotlight and the Capitol would lose interest in them once they settled into their fabricated domestic life.

~

Your celebrations for a better life seemed to come too quickly because the next day trucks full of peacekeepers were rolling in. You were just sitting in the living room, reading when you saw smoke coming from the center of town. Normally smoke wasn’t an alarming sight in the coal mining district but you could also see people running around frantically. You quickly jumped off the couch, rushing to put your boots on, not even bothering to put a coat on.

You ran outside, finding Prim, observing the chaos. “Prim, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted back to you.

“Go inside, get your mom,” you shouted as you ran towards the center of town.

You reached the Hob, or what was the Hob, finding several peacekeepers, more than ever, burning everything to a crisp. You spotted a young girl, maybe 15, cornered by a peacekeeper, shooting fire at her feet, torturing the girl. You had no doubt he was laughing under his mask.

You approached from the side, the man not even noticing you until you grabbed her hand. “Go, sweetie,” you told the girl. She didn’t need to be told twice as she bolted away as the man was distracted. He ripped his mask off angrily, preparing to yell at you but you watched as realization dawned over his face. “Hurt me if you want, I’m sure Snow would love to hear how you burnt one of his most lucrative victors,” you taunted.

Seeing that burning you wasn’t worth it he pursed his lips angrily before taking the torch to hit you with. It hit your hip, knocking you to the side a little but he seemed satisfied getting a hit in so he went back to burning objects. Not wanting to push your luck, you ran off, heading toward the town square. There you were horrified to see Gale tied to a whipping post, Katniss stood in front of his with a gash on her face, Peeta in front of her, and Haymitch in front of him, talking to a peacekeeper with a gun pointed at him. “…you already marked up her face on the eve of the big wedding,” you heard Haymitch explain as you ran over.

“Move,” the man pointed his gun at you now.

“Man, you really don’t get it. You don’t recognize her either? Y/N L/N? You really think President Snow wants four dead victors?”

The guy looked pissed but relented. “Clear the square!” he suddenly yelled in the scariest voice you’ve ever heard from a human being. “If anyone is spotted out after dark, they will be shot on sight!” The man gave you all a glare, spitting in the dirt before going with some other peacekeepers.

“We have to move him,” Katniss cried as she undid Gale’s cuffs. Haymitch and Peeta both hoisted Gale’s arms over their shoulders. They carried him all the way to Katniss’ house where her mom and sister were preparing for him.

It was a frenzy of Katniss, Prim, and their mom trying to help Gale while you, Haymitch and Peeta just stood to the side. As things calmed down and Gale settled in for what no doubt would be a long, painful night, you and Haymitch headed home.

“So this is Snow’s attempt to suppress the Districts,” you observed, stepping inside. “Crackdown on black markets and insubordination.”

“I guess,” Haymitch sighed, turning on the television. It immediately showed scenes of the lower districts where trucks of peacekeepers were rolling in and terrorizing citizens. “It’s propaganda.”

“Shove it in their faces that any act of defiance will be shot down immediately,” you scoffed. “God I hate him.”

“I know, c’mon, let’s go to bed,” Haymitch said, gently placing a hand on your hip. You flinched when he touched the no doubt forming bruise from that peacekeeper earlier. Haymitch pulled back, afraid that he hurt you. “What?”

“Nothing, just a peacekeeper got mad before I found you,” you explained. “He had this girl backed into a corner, using his flamethrower to torch the ground under her feet like a fucking psycho. I made him stop and he got mad and hit my with it. No big deal,” you dismissed.

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine, seriously. Nothing I can’t handle and nothing worth getting whipped or executed for,” you asserted. “Now can we please just go to bed?” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Sure,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around your waist with a kiss to the forehead.

~

A couple days passed as Gale healed. There were a few more whippings in 12 but no executions like in some of the other districts where there were riots. The peacekeepers really had locked down 12, Katniss wasn’t able to go out to the woods and you could tell it was getting to her. As for you and Haymitch your home had become a sanctuary. You two finally felt like you could be safe. For the first time since either of your reapings you felt somewhat safe.

All of that came crashing down as you sat down to watch the Quarter Quell announcement. You thought that this must be weird for Haymitch since he won the 50th games and the second Quarter Quell. In some ways you realized that your husband may be the deadliest victor since he won against twice as many tributes.

The screen turned on, revealing Snow on his little speech balcony. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of the annual hunger games. It was written in the charter of the games that every 25 years there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh, for each new generation, the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion we celebrate the third Quarter Quell,” Snow pulled out a card for the first time, “as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this the third Quarter Quell the amount of tributes will double. Two male and two female tributes from each district-”

“They did that already,” Haymitch murmured.

“-and they will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.” Your heart sunk in your chest and you let out a dry sob. No, this couldn’t be happening. You just became safe. “All victors from all districts will be eligible for the reaping, no matter the number of victors from a district, nor their age or disability.”

Haymitch angrily threw his glass through the holographic screen, hitting Snow in the face.

You felt the tears slipping down your face as Haymitch threw your glass. Noticing your tears he held you tightly. “Nothing’s gonna gonna happen to you, okay?” He pulled back to look you in the eye, brushing your hair away. “You’re gonna make it out. I’m gonna protect you.”

“No,” you cried. “Katniss has to make it out. She’s the Mockingjay. If we want this to be the last game she has to make it out.”

“But-”

It was your turn to comfort him as tears began to slip down his cheeks. “Haymitch I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you. If you don’t come out of that arena, neither will I.” He sighed quietly, looking down at the ground. “Haymitch…” he looked back up at you, “we’re gonna die aren’t we?” It was a sobering thought to both of you. Neither of you were strangers to the thought of dying but now that you had been happy about two minutes ago, it was a tragic thought.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you shouted to who you had no doubt was Peeta.

You were proven right when Peeta walked through the door. It wasn’t typical of him to skip pleasantries but then again this was in no way a pleasant situation so he just jumped right in. “Look, I know this isn’t fair to ask but Katniss needs to come out of that arena.”

He went to continue his ramblings until you stopped him. “Peeta, we already agreed neither of us are coming out,” you gestured to your husband. “We can’t guarantee Katniss’ survival but she has two less competitors.” You knew you couldn’t tell Peeta about the rebellion, he was too close to all of this.

Peeta looked broken but grateful. “Thank you,” he cried.

“Why don’t you go be with your family?” Haymitch suggested gently. Peeta agreed, once again professing his thanks before leaving. “This may be a part of Plutarch’s plan,” he suddenly suggested.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s the head gamemaker. Right now he’s Snow’s closest advisor. I’m sure his plan is to get Katniss out. Like ours.”

“Snow will never let Katniss get to top five… much less be the victor,” you pieced together.

“Y/N, we might have a shot at surviving,” Haymitch said as it dawned on him. You both were excited that you may get to actually see the rebellion after a few very sobering moments. “Let’s not get our hopes up though.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed.

Suddenly Katniss burst in. She immediately grabbed a bottle of whisky off your bar cart. “I’m here to drink,” she explained.

“Well that’s the only thing I can actually help you with,” Haymitch said, grabbing more glasses as Katniss slumped onto a chair.

“Peeta gets out,” she ordered. In contrast to Peeta’s begging.

“Peeta was just in here begging for your life,” you replied, taking the glass Haymitch handed you.

“I don’t care. He deserves to get out.”

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy,” Haymitch said from beside you.

“I know,” she agreed.

“We’ve already decided we’re not coming out,” you informed her. “We can’t guarantee anything but he has two less competitors.”

“Thank you,” she said stoically. She took another swig of the bottle. “Why couldn’t it have been you two? You actually love each other. You could convince the districts,” she sighed, “and Snow,” she added.

“Just not how we had to play our games,” you shrugged.

You three all drank for a little while until Peeta came back in. “What are you doing?” he asked, startled by the scene. You were laying on the floor, giggling, while Haymitch and Katniss were slumped in their seats, also laughing.

“Accepting our impending dooms,” Haymitch laughed, holding up his thrice refilled glass as if toasting.

“No, you’re not. We have to train and get ready if any of us want any shot,” he insisted.

“Haymitch and I don’t have one,” you giggled.

Peeta shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Forget it we’ll talk tomorrow when at least you two,” he pointed to you and Katniss, “are sober.”

“Wait you don’t wanna drink with us?” Katniss whined.

“No,” he answered bluntly before leaving.

~

The next morning Peeta had the three of you sat in his living room. Both you and Katniss were hungover. Haymitch started drinking to deal with his hangover. “Look we have to start training. We have a week until the reaping. These other victors, especially the careers, have probably continued to train, or trained other tributes, ever since they won. And we’re seriously behind,” Peeta said, taking Haymitch’s mug of coffee mixed with gin.

“Hey!” he protested.

“You have to get sober,” Peeta said. “There won’t be flasks in the arena.”

Eventually Peeta got all of you outside, starting with jogging around Victors Village. You and Katniss took it pretty easily. Peeta struggled a little with his prosthetic leg but fortunately since it was Capitol made it reacted with the rest of his body. Meanwhile Haymitch was struggling. He was stumbling over all the uneven ground and he didn’t exactly have the same stamina he had 25 years ago. You stopped several times to try to help him along but he always brushed you off.

Next you moved onto strength. By now Haymitch’s sobriety was starting to creep in. You knew Haymitch was strong but withdraw was making him physically shake. As for you and Katniss, you were struggling in the strength department. A childhood of malnourishment could never be fixed. As the four of you continued on, Haymitch got worse. He and Peeta were doing pushups when your husband suddenly collapsed. You went over to help him up but he just staggered off into the house. You gave Katniss and Peeta a quizzical look before following him.

You found him in the bathroom, puking his guts out. Letting out a sympathetic sigh you kneeled down next to him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. “It’s okay, get it all out. Sobriety is hard after 25 years,” you tried to laugh. But the smell was becoming so much you were struggling to not vomit as well.

After a few more minutes Haymitch was done and it was your turn. “Thanks, sweet-” but you interrupted him by also vomiting in the toilet. He held your hair and rubbed your back just as you had done to him while whispering comforts.

When you were done you sat up, finding a comfortable place in between Haymitch’s legs, your back against his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Sorry, I think it was the smell,” you explained.

“Sorry my vomit made you vomit,” Haymitch laughed. You could feel the laughter in his chest, bouncing you the slightest bit.

After a few minutes you shakily stood up. “I’ll get some water. You should lay down, rest.”

“I’m not that tired,” he dismissed.

“Well if we want any hope of you being a functioning sober in the arena you need to rest. Besides, I’m exhausted.” It’s true you were incredibly exhausted. Probably just from the hangover though.

Haymitch complied, heading to the bedroom while you went to get glasses of water. As you returned with the ice water, Haymitch was laid in bed, waiting for you. You handed him his drink before slipping into his embrace. “You really think Plutarch has a plan?” you asked.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t think he’d send us all into the games with no plans to get most of us out. We’ll know more once we get there. But I’m not gonna let anything happen to you before we’re ready,” your husband promised.

“Same to you,” you said, intertwining your fingers with his. You brought you hands up to your lips, pressing your lips to his knuckles.

~

Haymitch got better over the next week. He no longer shook unless he really had pushed his limits. You, however, got worse and you were suspecting that it was more than being sick because Haymitch was. You realized that you had missed your period but you had chalked it up to everything that was happening in the past month. You spent nearly every night and morning hunched over the toilet or trashcan. You had dismissed it to Haymitch as nerves but you could tell he was getting suspicious as well. You were about 90% sure you were pregnant but you could get that confirmed in the Capitol. As for the paternity, you hoped to whatever deity was out there that your timeline was right and it could only be Haymitch’s. Having some Capitol bastard’s baby would be Snow’s ultimate punishment to you.

But you didn’t want to say anything if you were wrong. You were also terrified of Haymitch’s reaction. Would he be excited? Angry? Devastated? Those reactions also dependent on whether or not Plutarch planned to try to keep you alive. There were so many questions racing through your head as you were marched towards the stage for the reaping. It was honestly just cruel for everyone as the two names in each bowl taunted you.

“Welcome to the 75th annual Hunger Games,” Effie said in a pained voice. You could see genuine pain in her expression as she made it as short as possible. “As always, ladies first.” She grabbed a slip and approached the microphone. “For the first female tribute from District 12…” you didn’t know why you were holding your breath. You’d be picked no matter what. “Katniss Everdeen.” A single tear rolled down her cheek “And the first male tribute from District 12… Haymitch Abernathy.” When she finally called your name it felt like you had had an ice bucket dumped over your head. Again, you didn’t know why, it’s not like this was your first reaping where you had been plucked from the bowl by chance. This was a calculated move by Snow this time.

You didn’t bother to listen to the rest of Effie’s speech and you were quickly ushered onto the train. Everything happened in a blur, you were too focused on being tested in the Capitol. But you managed to sober yourself up enough to discuss who you’d be competing with. Fortunately the trains had access to all the reapings and past games so you and Haymitch shared highlights and stories about the biggest names in this year’s games.

“Cashmere and Gloss: siblings won back to back games, the pride of their district. Gloss will be our biggest threat, he won as any career tribute does. At least in the beginning we should be fairly safe from Cashmere. Avoid sleeping with her and you’ll be in the clear. The other two from District 1 are pretty straightforward.”

“Enobaria from 2 is extremely deadly. She excels in hand to hand combat and did anything to win her games. The male tribute from two had her pinned and it looked like he’d win when she ripped out his throat with her teeth. She has since had them filed into fangs. I guess to rip out more throats in two? Whatever. Avoid confrontation with her.”

“Wiress and Beetee from 3 are both brilliant. He won his games by electrocuting just about every other tribute in the arena. Let the last couple kill each other. He’s also beloved by the Capitol because he basically makes all their cool stuff for them.”

“Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, and Mags Flanagan. I don’t know much about the fourth. Finnick Odair is the darlin of the Capitol, people love him. He won his games at 14, youngest ever. He is also very skilled in combat. Weaknesses include Mags and Annie. Mags will not be much of a threat tragically, she truly is a very sweet lady. As for Annie, I’m confident that Finnick will die for her. She sort of won her games by default when everyone else drowned at the end and she went a little nuts after.”

“Nothing really special about District 5, they all won at least 10 years ago, the oldest won 35 years ago. Not threats.”

“District 6 only has three tributes, the Morphling triplets. They all won their games by hiding until everyone else was dead. They’ve all been avid morphling users ever since.”

“In District 7 you have Johanna Mason. She won four years ago and won almost exactly like my wife here did. Extremely angry and violent. The other three? Treat them like careers, best skilled in hand to hand combat with axes.”

“District 8, none are really threats. Woof, here, is really old. Has gone kind of senile so maybe avoid him in the training area. May stab you with a sewing needle before you even get to the arena.”

“District 9 only has one tribute. Also not a threat.”

“District 10, just treat them like careers. They’ve been slitting cattle’s throats since they could walk so avoid close combat with them.”

“District 11 aren’t threats. Chaff is missing his left hand so do with that information what you will. Any questions?”

“What about your games?” Katniss asked.

“Katniss we’re not threats to you,” you sighed. “We already agreed we’re not coming out.”

“I just wanna know,” she insisted, not backing down.

“Fine,” Haymitch relented. “I won the 50th Hunger Games where there were 48 tributes. Like this one is supposed to be. My arena was honestly beautiful but toxic. Everything was poisoned. The bloodbath was… insane. Three-fourths of the tributes died at the cornucopia. Partially because several of them were late to the buzzer because they were so distracted by the meadow we were in. Basically the same thing happened in every game. The careers hunted everyone down. I had allied myself with one of the girls from my district, Maysilee Donner.” You knew that talking about Maysilee was hard for Haymitch. She truly had become his friend in that arena. “We protected each other until around the end when we decided to split up so we wouldn’t have to kill each other. I heard her screaming a couple hours after we split. Some guys from 2 had attacked her. I had managed to kill both but she died in my arms.” Your husband took a shaky breath before continuing. “Not even a day later it was me versus the girl from one. I had discovered the edge of the arena before, it was a cliff and I had figured out that whatever hit it would return to where it came from. So when it came down to her and I, she had managed to wound me with her axe, slicing my stomach. I ran for a mile, bleeding, to the edge of the arena. She threw her axe which missed. She didn’t realize that it was coming back until the blade hit her head and I was crowned Victor. And because I won the way I did, Snow had my family killed,” Haymitch finished bitterly. You placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. You knew this was a lot for him. He had been drunk for the last 25 years hiding from his games. Now here he was, sober for the first time and reliving that experience.

Peeta didn’t seem to know how to react but Katniss pushed through the tension, asking you about your games.

“It was set in a canyon. It was so dry but there was a single stream that ran through the middle. It looked really thin, like it’d dry up in only a couple days from above ground but I managed to find a way underground where there was more water. The cornucopia was set in one of the widest spots of the canyon where even then it was a fairly tight squeeze between the walls. if you didn’t figure out how to climb you were pretty much screwed because it was like being stuck in a hallway with the careers. They did what they always did. Group up and hunt everyone down. It was fairly easy for them to do it because a lot of the kids were either too heavy or too weak, a very fine line, to climb up the walls. I basically hid up above or down below everyone, attacking them when I could. As I told you the first day I found a girl who had managed to grab a pack and stole her supplies. I quietly and slowly picked off every career until I slit the boy from 1’s throat and won.” You explained your story stoically but inside you were crumbling, something you had done ever since you won. Everyone thought you were so okay with killing when you won but truthfully, you weren’t. You didn’t think any Victor was no matter what it seemed like.

Part VI | Masterlist | Part VIII

[justrainandcoffee]

Tell her (Alfie Solomons)

Masterlist

Summary: It's 1964 and Allie, Alfie's daughter, is in his house in Margate to accompany him. Sometimes Alfie is the same as ever and sometimes... "Tell her I miss her," he says. "Tell her it'd be nice to go to the beach together." 'Her' is Rose, his wife. She died the previous year but he forgot about it. For him, Rose is still alive but he can't see her. "Tell her..." He keeps saying and every time Allie's heart breaks a bit more. "I will, dad."

Warnings: Mentions of mental illness (dementia). Angst. Grief. Sadness.

Words: 1.5k

1964.

It's raining in Margate. Actually it's a storm, one of the biggest they could remember.

From the window Allie Solomons could see the fury of the sea. She's now 40 years old, has a daughter, a husband and still has her father. But his health started to deteriorate quickly after his wife's death. Even when her husband suggested to move him to a home, that was out of question for Allie. His father deserved to stay there, he loved that place. And it was full of memories.

The sound of the raindrops knocking the window is the only thing that can be heard among with the music of a Beatles' long-play.

Allie looks at the clock. It's time for his medication.

"Dad?" she asks while she's walking down the stairs. "Dad, I'm going to prepare tea so you can eat something and take your pills. You can rest afterwards."

But Alfie isn't in his armchair as usual. His pipe is on the table and his book is open on the floor.

"Dad?"

Allie's heart is beating fast. Maybe he went to the bathroom. But when she knocks the door there's no answer.

The maid that helps her isn't there because she went to the market so Allie is alone.

"Dad?" she calls again. "Dad!"

Allie sees that the front door is open and her father is out in the rain. He's soaking wet.

"Dad! What the hell are you doing there!" The woman grabs his hand and invites him to get in the house again. "It's raining like hell, you're going to catch the flu."

"Yeah, it's raining."

"Yes, I know. Come with me."

Obedient, he follows his daughter and accepts the help she offers. Allie gives him a dry shirt, towels and a blanket. She puts his chair next to the fireplace, too.

"I'm going to prepare tea, but please dad… don't go outside again."

"I went out just because of her. She's still out! Next to the sea."

"Who? Who's she?"

"What do ya mean who's she?" Alfie looks at his daughter confused. "Your mother, Allie. Rosie… out there in the rain, at the seashore. Tell her to come in, sweetheart."

Allie's thoughts stops at the same time her heart races faster than before.

"I was here, right?" Alfie says "and suddenly I saw her there. I thought she was sleeping but probably woke up and went outside. She always did crazy shit, but I love her. Will ya tell her that I need to talk to her?"

Allie wants to cry. It's been over a year since her mother died. The saddest day of her life and the moment when Alfie's world started to crushed down.

"Please, no" Allie begs in silence. Anything but dementia. He's the smartest man she ever knew, this couldn't be his destiny.

Instead, Allie tries to compose herself and just nods. "Probably she's coming. But I'll tell her, yes. Although first, you need your medication ok? I'll bring you tea with it.".

.

"If anything happens to me take care of your father" her mother's voice is in her head "I know Alfie's weakness. Promise me, Allie."

And she's keeping her promise since then. Allie cries in silence while the water is boiling.

"Did you tell her?"

"I did. But she said that she wanted to suprise you with something tonight, so she went to the town. Mama said that you need to rest so you can enjoy the dinner tonight."

"She's going to cook?"

Allie smiles "she'll try. Now take the medicine, dad. So you can rest and wait for her."

Once again, Alfie hears his daughter and after the tea, he goes to sleep. After his nap he's the same as ever and didn't mention his late wife again. Like it never happened.

This Saturday Alfie is alone with his maid. His daughter is at the theatre with her daughter and husband, Allie is planning to go to her father's house after it. The arguments between her husband and herself increased the last days because she spent a lot of time next to Alfie and she had to remember him what her father meant to her. "Never make me choose between him and you. I love you, but he's the man who saved me," she said and the husband understood.

The maid named Margaret knew about Alfie's probably dementia. So she wasn't surprised when he named Rose again, still, it hurt.

"Tell her I want to go to the sea with her. Where's she? Isn't she here?"

"Not now, Mr. Solomons. Your beloved wife told me she's attending a meeting, but I can help you to go to the beach if you want."

"Ah! A meeting! Me Rosie always working. If I go outside will ya tell her about it? Tell her I'm on the beach."

"Yes, Mr. Solomons."

Margaret smiled briefly. She knew his wife, she witnessed the relationship between them, the way they talked to each other, the smiles. And she saw Alfie Solomons becoming a shadow of the man he used to be after her death.

She helps him to walk to the seashore, she carries a beach chair with her and invites him to sit in it. Alfie sighs looking at the sea, he loves that place but lately he feels that he's missing something, but he doesn't know what.

"When Rosie calls, tell her that the day is beautiful 'ere."

"I will, Mr. Solomons."

Two weeks later, nothing changed. Some days he didn't mention his wife at all and he was calm and busy reading or watching tv. Other days he talked about her as she was still there. Allie called his doctor and the man confirmed her fears and unfortunately, there was no cure.

Alfie Solomons had erased from his memory her wife's death.

But a part of him was still the same as ever.

"She's not 'ere anymore, ain't she?" Alfie asks his daughter one afternoon months later. He was in the balcony looking at the horizon. Allie is next to him and the new dog he has, a basset hound named Apollo. Allie, caressing Apollo's long ears, thinks for a moment before answering to him.

"No, papa."

"And I keep asking for her… what's happenin' to me?"

"You'll be fine, dad. I'm here to help you. You and mom were, and still are, really important to me. I love you, dad. So, I don't care if you sometimes you forget things. I forget things all the time. It's okay." She hugs him really tight. "I think of her all the time, too."

For a moment, father and daughter share a moment in peace. Both of them laugh and play with Apollo. For a moment, Allie allows herself to be a girl again when she played with Ciryl and younger Alfie. Her strong father that always protected her no matter what. For a moment, Alfie's mind knows where it is and knows that he's a widower now. But it ends faster than both of them would've liked it.

"Allie..."

"Yes, dad?" The woman looks at him.

"I know your mum is busy, but if you see her tell her i miss her. Tell her, Allie. Tell her I love her, too."

Allie's eyes are filled with tears again but she nods. "I will, dad. I will."

The next day, Allie is standing in front of the mother's tomb. There are white roses decorating the gravestone, her favourites. Allie talks to her mother, she tells her that she misses her company, her words. She tells her about how Iris, Allie's daughter, is growing up really quick and how she loves painting. But, if she's there is to deliver a message.

"He loves you. But you know that. He loves you so much that his mind decided that you never died and who would be so cruel to tell him otherwise? In his own world you're alive, even if he can't see you. He misses you, mom."

Meanwhile, in Margate, Alfie Solomons is in the kitchen baking and the maid is helping him. It's 20th June and it's his wife's birthday. Alfie knows that and his Rosie deserves the best.

A beautiful cake is now ready to be eaten even if the person he waits the most isn't there to enjoy it.

[blazingstar24]

Thinking about Brennan pointing out how “there’s only so many times you can hear someone tell you that you don’t understand something before asking for them to explain it in a way you can.”

Thinking about how the Gods have never grown beyond thinking of their creations as these things that need to be coddled or disciplined. Because over and over, it’s “no you just don’t understand the world”. It’s the way they heard their own creation tell them about the horrors experienced by the endless wars they put them through. And their response was to try and erase the feeling of anger, of despair. Their response was no you don’t really get it so just go back to being ignorant of the horrors we are putting you through.

Because yeah sure Corellon, it is bliss if you never realize that hey fighting in an endless war everyday is kinda fucked up and seeing the world suffer weighs on your soul. It is bliss when the world was black and white. And it’s ironic that they say that while being in the body of an Aeormaton, a race that is constantly being looked at as just mindless robots to do the program that is asked of them.

Ignorance is bliss but your children are not ignorant. They have grown beyond the unquestioning years. Their world is no longer good vs evil, black and white. You have introduced them to a world that is grey as fuck and for some reason refuse to explain that world to them. Refuse to share the ugly truths of the world.

Because yeah Raven Queen, you do know the sorrows of responsibility. But you’ve also foisted that same sorrow onto your children and haven’t given them any tools to cope with it. Who do they get to turn to when it becomes too much? She calls them a child and yet if so, is it not your job as the “parent” to explain the world to your child? Is it not the job of a parent to prepare one’s child for the world they live in, not keep them from knowing, not leave them drowning? You cannot put off answering the hard questions nor can you stop your child from coming up with answers based on their experiences. The RQ here is pulling the ye old “well I’m dealing with hard shit too, so get over it” parental speak.

The celestial scene shows how much the Gods are ill equipped and unwilling to see their creations, their children as anything but that. Corellon trying to take away the angel’s anger and pain, yes it is fucked up, but also reminiscent of the stage of parenthood where all you have to do is wipe away the child’s tears and tell them it’s okay. And they are happy again. When a hurt was healed with a kiss on the forehead. But the problem is the celestials are no longer at that stage. Their hurts are no longer healed by placation. They want answers, they want to know why things are the way they are. Th moral ambiguities of war cannot be healed with a “it’s okay, don’t worry about it, just do your job” Your armies PTSD cannot be taken away with a Calm Emotions.

And that is the tragedy and the cruelty that the angel speaks of in “you should not have made us good”. Because in a world that is so grey, how can they expect a being made to be purely good, expected to retain that level of ignorance to live, to cope, to survive?