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dancingtotuyo · 1 month

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Scathed 12 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, illusions to past self harm/suicide attempt, mentions of miscarriage (all very brief compared to previous chapters), the drug war, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: no surprises here! All the love for my beautiful beta reader and wife @guiltyasdave

Words: 2879

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry

March 3rd, 1995

I think I’m back to where I was before Javier. Trisha has been reminding me that progress isn’t linear, but it’s hard to go back so much. I made it through the grocery store last week and by that marker I’m further ahead. I cried in the car after, but I still made it in. I’m going to try a couple summer classes.

Emily didn’t tell the kids to stop calling Javier. She caught them leaving trailing voicemails from time to time, mostly Ale, sometimes Mateo, never Miguelito. He seemed to know what was going on. That Javier was out of their lives.

Emily couldn’t help but reflect on it. How one person could come into your life for such a short period of time and play such a significant part in it, leave such a big space behind.

Alejandra was the one who asked. When Emily picked her up from school, or when she saw Chucho for riding lessons. He always cast her a questioning look. Emily would shake your head, never asking if he’d heard from Javier. It wasn’t her business. It would hurt to know.

Yet, she didn’t stop replaying that last conversation. He was convinced he wasn’t enough. He reminded her of when he blamed himself for her panic attack. Was there a chance he was as broken as she was? That’s what had bonded them. That’s why he’d felt safe, but how could two broken people be good for each other? Emily had gotten her answer. They weren’t. He’d only hurt her. Set her further back on her goals.

Worst of all, he was hurting her kids. He’d abandoned them too, and Emily wasn’t sure how she was supposed to handle that.

Journal Entry

April 18th, 1995

I can’t close my eyes without nightmares in the best times, but the days are easier than they’ve been in a long time.

Jaime had seen the changes in his daughter, the way Javier’s silence impacted her. It was hard to miss. Emily hadn’t told him much about their lack of communication. He knew what the beginning was like, Emily’s questions, the information he could parlay to her, but those had stopped within the first couple of months. The phone bill was lower than he anticipated each time with most calls outbound when Emily wasn’t home, but the kids were. He hated that too. Javier had become an extension of their family. He made Emily smile again, and then he left. He didn’t keep his promises.

Her father still struggled to understand it all. Emily hadn’t told him alot about what happened to her in Mexico either. What he knew was mostly second hand information and the facts, but the day to day horrors she faced, he had limited knowledge about. He wanted to know. He wanted to understand. He wanted to be that person for her, but he understood that Javier had in some magical way, been the person in her life that understood, and for that Jaime mourned his daughter’s loss with her.

As upset as he was with Javier, he found his pride in Emily increased by the day as she continued to work towards her goals, having to re-reach some in the process. As she progressed, it further set a plan in motion.

One Saturday, Jaime pulled Emily out, taking her for a drive. It was rare they got afternoons one on one. Usually one of the kids was tagging along, but this was something he wanted to do just the two of them.

Emily stared out the window, quietly as the radio played softly. Jaime glanced over at his daughter. She hadn’t asked a lot of questions when he pulled her out of the house, but he had the feeling she hadn’t been sleeping as well the last couple of weeks. It made him a little bit nervous about his plan. He wasn’t sure how she would react. They’d only talked about it in theory, as a hopefully one day. There hadn’t been a timetable.

He turned down a residential street, about ten minutes from home. Emily perked up beside him. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve been thinkin.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, lifting above the frames of her sunglasses. “About?”

“You’ll see.”

She let out a long sigh. “Dad.”

“You been having nightmares again?”

Emily’s head snapped toward him in rapt attention. He was never very good at easing into this stuff. “I’m always having nightmares.”

“Em.”

Emily sighed, running a hand through her mop of curls. She looked back out the window, biting on her thumb nail. “I’m doing better.”

“Just because you can go to the grocery store again doesn’t mean you’re not having nightmares.”

She continued to bite at her nail, picking at a hangnail that had developed. “Turns out, I’d been blocking some stuff out. It’s not very fun when your worst memories aren't your worst memories anymore.”

Jaime parked the car on the side of the street, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head so Emily could see his eyes. She didn’t move hers. “You can talk to me about it.”

“Dad…”

“When you were a little girl. We used to ride around town.” He smiled. “Just driving. You loved sitting shotgun with me. Your mom wouldn’t let you. She said it wasn’t safe.”

Emily chuffed. “That’s ironic.”

“Yeah.” He feigned a smile, nodding along. After a beat of silence, Jaime took the opening before him, the one he’d been waiting for for years. “What happened that she didn't stop it?”

Emily paused. Had they never had this conversation? That first year home was so foggy in her brain. She wasn’t sure what she did and didn’t tell him. Emily swallowed, closing her eyes to keep the tears back. To this day, she wasn’t sure how much her mother had and hadn’t done, and how much was just him.

“She encouraged me… saw a rich man and his interests. She didn’t see any issue with it”. Her nails bit into her palm, Jaime gripped the steering wheel in front of him, knuckles turning white.

“If I had known…”

“I know, Dad.”

“I want to know more if you’re ready to tell me.”

Emily let it sink in, not moving for a minute. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell you everything.”

“I’m not asking to know everything. Just some things. You don’t have to keep it bottled up inside.”

Emily inhaled sharply. Her thumb grazed under her watchband. The one that hid her scar. She couldn’t talk about that. She wasn’t ready for him to know what she had attempted. She thought about the events leading up to it. She wasn’t sure her Dad or Anna knew about her miscarriages either. Those were just facts, things that had happened, it didn’t include the trauma that each event was wrapped in, the mounting pile that led up to each event.

“I guess I haven't thought about how much I haven’t told you.”

Emily let her mind take her back for a second, eyes glazing over with tears as she thought about the beginning. The vacation to Mexico that turned into six years of hell. She could never figure out why he’d picked her. There was nothing special, nothing that stood out about her younger self. At least, nothing she could pinpoint, but maybe that’s why he’d picked her.

“Mom was all too happy to have our trip extended indefinitely.”

“You were at his hotel.”

“Yeah.” Emily paused. “When I found out I was pregnant, I told him before mom. He moved me in with him before I even got the chance to tell her. I remember feeling relieved, like I would be okay.” She looked down. “Things weren’t bad at first, but that almost makes it worse. I mean, I was 15. What did I know?”

Jaime watched, silence ringing in his brain, but it was one of the first times it truly clicked for him. He’d struggled to comprehend it at times. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but the thoughts still ran through his head. How she hadn’t seen the signs? How she’d let it happen? but it finally clicked in a concrete way. Emily hadn’t let anything happen. If he hadn’t been able to control or predict Felix, how could a 15 year old girl? He felt a rush of shame that it took this long to understand it. “You didn’t know anything.”

Emily’s head snapped back to him, a vulnerability in her eyes. The one that reminded Jaime of when his daughter was a child.

“You were supposed to be worried about homecoming and algebra. Not raising a baby. Not going through…”

Emily nodded. “I don’t really want to go more in depth right now.”

“That’s okay.” He turned off the vehicle. “Thank you.”

“So you didn’t drive me across town just to talk?”

Jaime shook his head. “I wanted to show you this.” He pointed out the passenger window to the house. A simple, single story rancher. It had a nice front porch and a garage. From what Emily could tell, the backyard was already fenced in. A “FOR SALE” sign sat proudly in the front yard.

“Dad…”

“I saw the listing last week. It’s got three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The backyard sounded like it’s got enough room for a nice garden.”

Emily fought against the panic rising inside of her at the thought of living anywhere else but with her parents. Her chest tightened as she inhaled sharply.

“Hey,” Jaime reached for her hand. “I’m not saying you have to move, or that it has to be this house, but we’ve talked about this, Sweetheart. I think you might be close.”

Emily looked between the house and her father, eyes darting back and forth like an animal not sure which path to take. “I’m not where I was last summer.”

“No, but you’re in a better place than you were last spring. You sat through the whole Christmas program this year. Not just the kids’ portions.”

“Barely-“

“But you did.”

Emily bit her lip. She knew she was doing things she couldn’t do on her own a year ago. She was grocery shopping alone now. She made it through the zoo last week, just her and the kids. She’d pulled them out of school and it had been relatively quiet, but it was still something. Trisha had told her to celebrate it.

She sighed. “No pressure?’

“No pressure.”

She looked back at the house. Something about it called to her. She loved her parents, but she didn’t want to live with them forever. Emily’s fingers found the door handle before she had time to fully comprehend it. “Okay.”

Her dad followed her up, pulling a key out of his pocket. “I know the realtor.”

“Of course you do.” She smiled as he let them in.

The house was empty. It hadn’t been staged yet, but that didn’t matter too much. Emily walked through the house almost silently, like speaking would break the tug in her heart. The living room, dining area, and kitchen all ran together in a loop. The bedrooms sat off a hallway. She knew which one would be Alejandra’s and which one would be the boys’. The master suite had a large bathtub, but the back patio was the selling point. Her swing would fit, and so would a firepit. The backyard spread out, large enough for a garden and a playset for the kids.

She could see it all in her mind. The garden. The kids playing. Looking up at the stars on those sleepless nights, talking to Jav- She cut off the thought. Just stargazing, just her and a bottle of something.

Emily inhaled deeply. She liked this house. She wanted this house. Could she actually be ready to do this? They’d talked about it. Planned for it, but it was still a year earlier than they’d talked about.

“What do you think?” her dad spoke, standing beside her.

“You knew I’d love it.”

He grinned. “I am your father.”

“How would it work?”

“We’re ten minutes away if you need us. Anna and I would take the kids once a week overnight.” He smiled at her. “We’ve got the down payment saved up for you. We paid the house off a couple years early, so we’ve got some more wiggle room to help you out.”

“Dad.”

“It’s yours if you want it, Sweetheart.”

Emily felt tears well in her eyes “And if we do this and I can’t handle it?”

“Then you move back and we’ll rent it until you’re ready.” Jaime said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Was it really that easy? All she had to do was say yes? That she wanted this?

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

Jaime nodded. “Of course.”

Journal Entry

May 25th, 1995

My birthday is tomorrow. Dad asked me what I wanted to do, and I couldn’t come up with anything. I can’t stop thinking about last year. It felt a lot more hopeful, but there are things this year to look forward to. Ale has a riding lesson with Chucho. I think I’m just going to ride Paz. We’ll have cake when we get home.

Emily closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh air as she sat on top of Paz, taking the familiar paths through the woods of the Peña ranch.The past year ran through her mind. Everything had looked so promising only for it to come crashing down. One single person did that. Maybe it wasn’t fair to pin it all on Javier, but maybe it was. He’d made her feel safe and that opened doors. Doors that shut the moment he pulled away. She was slowly starting to pry them open. Some were budging, others weren’t.

She found herself in the back pasture at the river’s edge. There were no sign of the drug runners at the moment surrounding her with only the sounds of nature. Cattle grazed behind her. The river rushed in front of her as she stared across it. She liked it here. It was quiet, serene.

Paz shuffled under her. A fly landed on the horses’s coat. Emily watched as she twitched the muscle on her shoulder to chase it away. She smiled, running a hand over her shoulder. “You’re such a good girl.”

Paz knocked her head up and down as if in agreement causing Emily to laugh. She leaned forward in the saddle. “Today is my birthday you know.”

Paz turned her head back to look at Emily. She offered the mare a soft smile. “I thought birthdays would be different after last year. I thought-“

She let out a sharp breath as the rest of the thought cut through her mind. She thought Javier would be there for her other birthdays, for the rest of her birthdays. She had expected it, wanted it, anticipated it…

Her eyes fixed on the river as her mind raced to break records on what that meant. Javier had been her friend, her best friend, but something else nagged at her. The expectation of forever, the desire for forever…

Before she could get lost in it, the rustle of trees and crunch of underbrush jerked her out of it. She twisted in the saddle, Paz slowly turning around with her. Gracie’s muzzle popped out of the woods first. Emily furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the anxiety coursing through her.

The rider ducked under a branch as he cleared the tree line. Emily felt the world around her go quiet as her eyes met with soft brow irises she knew by heart.

Javier froze the second their gazes met, pulling Gracie to a stop with a soft “woah.”

Nobody said anything. Neither of them moved, eyes pinned to the other’s. So many things roared in Emily’s ears. He was back? For how long? Why hadn’t he called? She had hoped he would when he got back. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know if she was going to forgive him or not. He hadn’t given her the opportunity to make that choice. He hadn’t given her the opportunity for much. Hadn’t bothered to return her children’s messages.

Even now, he offered nothing. He didn’t apologize for blocking her out. He didn’t even try. He just stared at her like she was some stumbling doe bleeding out. Anger filled her, and before Emily knew it, she kicked Paz forward, jogging past Javier without giving him an opportunity to make up some bullshit excuse or offer up an apology. She was half way back to the house before she realized there were tears on her cheeks.

Journal Entry

May 26th, 1995

He didn’t have anything to say, just stared at me like I wasn’t supposed to be there! He was the one who’s not supposed to be there. What the fuck?

Javier dropped his head with a sigh. He hadn’t expected her. Hadn’t planned through his apology. In Colombia, he’d been convinced he’d done the right thing, but being home, seeing her, he wasn’t so sure anymore, but Javier didn’t know if he could fix this.

……………………………………………………………………

Tag List: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu

@greengirlwurld @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo @missladym1981

#scathed (Javier peña)#Javier peña #Javier Peña x ofc #javier peña narcos #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #Pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #Pedro stories

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augustjustice · 4 months

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you wanna feel how it feels? (let's exchange the experience), 1/?

AO3 Link

Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they're never quite sure what the other one is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other's shoes can lend them some much needed insight.

Notes: The long awaited first chapter of bodyswap fic is finally, finally here! This chapter is primarily just set up for the shenanigans yet to come.

I went ahead and added a taglist below for some of the folks who have been following along with the progress of this one. Apologies if I missed anyone, and if you'd like to be added to or removed from the list, please just let me know!

It was a typical Saturday night in late April–at least, typical post-the radical turn of events that had started with Eddie’s own personal nightmare during the Spring Break from hell, that series of dominoes tipping over and taking his life up to where it was now. And where he found himself was at Hawkins’ very own local Dairy Queen with Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and a rabid pack of six hungry teenagers and one formidable preteen who could rule them all with an iron fist if she wanted, following up yet another successful session of Hellfire with some celebratory ice cream.

Being able to hold a meeting of the Hellfire Club at all was cause for celebration in Eddie’s book, especially since the school would no longer allow them to host events on school grounds, despite the fact that all the charges against Eddie that had started the witch hunt in the first place had been dropped. Hawkins wasn’t exactly a forgive-and-forget kind of town, something Eddie had always known and been even more acutely aware of given the even more frequent, vitriolic stares that had been following him around since March.

Still, he was soldiering on for now, at least until graduation–thanks in no small part to the apocalypse stopping crew currently clamoring over each other at the front counter. Despite the school’s best efforts, the club venue had been relocated to the Munsons’ newly minted trailer, courtesy of the government suits. And with the revival of their D&D campaign came the start of this new tradition–begun by none other than Steve himself, who had pulled up to Forest Hills to pick up the kiddos that first night, stuck his floppy-haired head out of his BMW like an overgrown puppy, and offered to meet everyone at the local DQ, his treat. The Corroded Coffin boys had begged off coming that first time–and the week after that, and the week after that–but, still. Standing under the hazy fast food fluorescent lights and with the promise of a chocolate malt ahead, life–for the moment, at least–was as good as Eddie could ask for, all things considered.

“Hey, hey, hey!” With three quick snaps of his fingers, Steve tried to corral the kids into some semblance of order, one hand already settled in its customary position on his hip. “One at a time, you guys. Try to cut, ah…”

“Brandi,” the brunette behind the counter supplied helpfully when she saw Steve squinting at her name tag, face blooming into a bright grin.

Eddie was pretty sure he recognized her from his second senior year math class, and there was a vague memory of seeing someone who sort of looked like her in the cafeteria tickling at the back of his mind, sitting a few tables from the jock zone amongst the lucky hopefuls looking to catch the attention of a baseball or basketball playing potential boyfriend. If so, that definitely explained the big moon eyes she was currently shooting Steve’s way.

But Steve only returned her smile with a harried one of his own, his attention still firmly focused on the demands of his many babysitting charges. Eddie tried to tamp down the sick twist of satisfaction he felt when Brandi deflated slightly.

“Right. Try to cut Brandi here some slack, alright? Believe me, slinging ice cream is plenty of work without having a bunch of little menaces shouting in your ear.”

As the group finally managed to file themselves into something that resembled a line–with plenty of jostling and grumbling along the way–Erica gave Steve’s polo a sharp tug and then jabbed two fingers in his direction.

“Free ice cream. For life,” she emphasized, the same way she did every week, like Steve needed the reminder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved a dismissive hand in her direction even as he pulled out his wallet, same as he did week in and week out, putting on a show like he didn’t already know he’d be footing the bill for most of the munchkins’ orders.

Robin had explained the situation to Eddie when he’d asked after their first DQ outing, with the same airy tone they all often used to describe the truly mind-boggling shit they had been through over the last few years.

“Oh! It’s a leftover debt, from when we infiltrated the secret Russian base under Starcourt. Free ice cream was Erica’s price for getting involved. Never underestimate her ability to drive a hard bargain.”

Eddie had nodded, trying not to let how gobsmacked he felt about the entire story show. “Yeah, I, uh…wasn’t planning to. Lady Applejack is a force to be reckoned with.”

“You have no idea,” Robin had agreed, looking almost strangely…proud about the fact.

That evening, when Eddie sidled up to join them, leaving Robin in position to guard the three booths sequestered off towards the back they had claimed as their own, he caught the tail end of the sheepies excitedly recounting tonight’s session for Steve.

“And D20 is…good, right?” Steve asked, still watching the register as Brandi passed a vanilla cone with a hefty serving of whipped cream and sprinkles off to El.

“Yes, Steve, it’s only the best roll you can possibly make in the entire game.”

The no duh tone of Dustin’s voice was enough to have Steve raising an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed.

“Like sinking the winning shot after the final buzzer at the championship game kinda good,” Lucas explained, much more helpfully, his grin wide.

“Oh,” Steve nodded, and Eddie couldn't help but get distracted by the way his lips, pink and shining with a hint of chapstick, parted perfectly in understanding.

Eddie seized the opportunity to catch Steve off guard, hooking an arm around his shoulders and tugging him into his side. Delight bubbled in his chest at the way the gesture made Steve let out a loud, startled laugh.

“Should've figured that's all it'd take to rope you into playing sometime, Harrington,” Eddie shook his head solemnly. “Sports metaphors.”

“Always with the sports metaphors,” Dustin echoed.

Steve reached out and swatted the brim of his cap, the force of it just enough to send it slightly askew and trigger a string of cursing from Dustin.

“Hey, I never agreed to that,” he argued, ducking out from under Eddie’s arm in one seamless motion. Jock reflexes, Eddie had decided, were both a blessing and a curse.

He had learned that lesson firsthand in the past few weeks, as Eddie had grown more and more comfortable indulging in a little light rough housing with Steve, despite the fact that he knew there was no way in hell he had any better shot than their gangly freshmen did at not getting his ass handed to him. Eddie was stronger than he looked, sure, but he wasn’t exactly former basketball captain level athletic, not by a long shot.

But was it really losing when he got to be pressed up against the firm planes of Steve’s chest, wrapped up in his strong arms–even if it was in a death lock grip–or occasionally pinned to Eddie’s own bedroom floor by him? Eddie definitely didn’t think so, and part of him was also just happy his recovery was going well enough he could scuffle, again. On his good days, at least. Doing it with his hot friend–and crush–was just an added bonus.

“You know, it’s not my fault Lucas knows how to explain shit to me. I’ll stop talking in basketball when one of you two nerds actually manages to tell me what Mordor is.”

Dustin let out a huff. “If you just read the books–”

Steve cupped a hand around his ear, leaning down towards Dustin and hamming it up for all he was worth. “Huh? What was that? Cuz it didn’t sound like much of an explanation to me, Henderson.”

Eddie tugged a strand of hair across his mouth, trying to hide his grin. “Harrington, trust me when I say–you do not want to open that can of worms. Do you have any idea how long I can go on for once I get started? Hours, man. Days, probably.”

“Can’t be any worse than that time Robin tried to explain, uh…shit, what was it called? German New Wave? Or, no, maybe that was French Expressionism. I don’t know, the point is, it can’t be more boring than that was.”

“It's French New Wave!” Robin called from the back despite the distance, freakily intune with Steve as always. “Or German Expressionism. And sounds like you're due another lesson, Stevie-Evie. Don't worry, I've got a tried and true method to guarantee it all sticks this time.”

Steve groaned, dragging a hand over his face and into his hair–but his apparent grief at the thought of another Buckley-led film history lesson was quickly diverted when he realized it was his turn.

From there, placing the rest of their orders passed by with little fanfare–apart from the brief, minor hiccup that came when Steve tried to pay for Eddie’s treat on top of everybody else’s.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Eddie waved a finger at him, just barely managing to step around Steve and hand his fistful of dollars over to Brandi. “Your money’s no good here, my liege.”

The title was enough to produce a patent Harrington scowl, all drawn eyebrows and pouted lips.

When he opened his mouth to protest, Eddie cut him off again. “Seriously, Steve, I’ve got it. One shake isn’t gonna break the bank, you know?”

“I know that,” Steve huffed. “I just–would it seriously kill you to let me treat you once in a while?”

Steve had done more than enough, and Eddie thought he damn well knew that. Between literally saving Eddie’s life when he’d been about to bleed out in the Upside Down and then sticking around through all of his recovery in the weeks after, the amount he had done was approaching near superheroic levels.

“You know you don’t have to hover, right, Harrington?” Eddie had asked him one day towards the end of his stay in the hospital, gnawing anxiously at his bottom lip, as he watched Steve look up from the Sports Illustrated sprawled across his lap.

The truth was he hadn’t wanted to say anything, too afraid bringing it up would lead to Steve doing just as he was suggesting…finally leaving. But the anxiety humming in his ears that Steve was just here out of pity had finally become worse, forced the words from his mouth.

“You saved Dustin, man,” Steve had replied, expression earnest, “and helped distract the bats from me and Nance and Robin, too. I’m not going anywhere. So, you know…get used to it.”

He had punctuated the last statement by giving Eddie a light, friendly slap on his knee, and Eddie had to bite back the beaming, relieved grin that threatened to split his face.

Steve had stayed pretty much a permanent fixture in Eddie’s day-to-day life after that, proving time and again he was serious about being in it for the long haul. Even through all the embarrassing shit, like Eddie hobbling around on his cane like a baby deer on shaky newborn legs, or needing somebody to help him wash his hair. Not exactly the ideal position to be in with a hopeless high school crush that had come burning back to life with a vengeance, but Steve would hear none of it when Eddie tried to insist he didn’t need to go out of his way like this.

“What, you want Henderson in here instead?” Steve had asked with a snort. “You gotta be kidding, Munson. Like I said, better get used to being stuck with me.”

“Happy to be stuck together with you anytime, big boy,” Eddie had flirted, the shameless bravado in place to cover up the very real fluttering of his heart.

In other words…Eddie had already accrued more life debts to Steve Harrington than he could ever hope to repay. And while Steve might have insisted he was more than happy with nursemaid duty, Eddie really wasn’t looking to turn himself into a charity case. Not if he could help it.

So Eddie let his grin grow, obnoxious and wide enough to show off all his teeth.

“It might,” he quipped. “And how would you feel, Harrington, knowing that this was the thing that finally managed to do me in? I’m just trying to spare you the guilt, man, I know what a complex you’d get.”

“Whatever, Eds,” Steve scoffed, steering him towards the designated babysitter’s club booth with a nudge of his elbow, hands full of his and Robin’s matching strawberry sundaes.

Steve took his customary spot on Robin’s side of the booth, the pair of them, as always, practically glued at the hip. Their friendship, Eddie had learned, was a boundary free zone, one that frequently involved holding hands, devolving into childish slap fights with little warning, and falling asleep sprawled on top of each other while watching bad daytime soaps at the Harrington house. Only their vehement denial and the goo-goo eyes Eddie caught Robin making at the red-haired chick–Vickie, he now knew–from band convinced him Dustin’s loud, frequent, and insistent claims that they were dating were total bullshit.

As he was just about to slide into his own place across from them, a commotion at the table behind them called for Eddie’s attention.

“Eddie, El wants to hear you do the roar again!” Mike requested.

Eddie tilted his head to one side, stroking his chin, as though trying to recall what exactly Mike was speaking of. Biting his lip to keep from smiling, he gave Mike a shrug.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Little Wheel.”

A chorus of cries rang out from both tables the party had overtaken, shrieks of “Eddie!” and “C’mon, man!” reverberating again and again in his ears.

Spinning on his heel as though he was set to ignore them, Eddie answered Steve and Robin’s expectant expressions with a quick, subtle wink.

When he leapt up from the floor and into a crouch on the booth seating, Eddie felt a sharp tug at his sides, his scar tissue very eagerly making itself known. Gritting his teeth, he refused to let the hot flash of pain show on his face as he loomed over Will and El, hands curving into claws as he reached towards their table.

“Kas the Bloody-Handed demands vengeance!” he bellowed, letting his voice drop into a deep, growling register.

His performance was met with what might as well have been a standing ovation, in his book–a series of delighted shouts from the boys, eerily similar head shakes from Max and Erica while they both visibly fought back their smiles, and El letting out a peel of giggles as she hid her face in her brother’s side.

When Hellfire had started back up again, Eddie had considered starting over from scratch, maybe even trying this deep into the game to veer their campaign in a different direction. He didn’t want something that they all loved to become somehow…tainted, by reminders of everything that had happened.

“Nah, man, just leave it like it is,” Steve had suggested, one afternoon when Eddie’s fretting had finally bubbled over to the point he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It's good for their…trauma processing? Or something. I don’t know, you’d have to ask Owens about it. The point is, they wouldn’t want you to change it. Not unless you want to.”

In the end, Eddie had heeded Steve’s advice, figuring he knew more about the way those little hellions ticked better than probably anybody else, at this point.

Moments like these made him glad he did, proof positive his instincts had been spot on.

Eddie dropped, satisfied, down into the booth, his foot knocking straight into the side of Steve’s under the table. A little spark of pleasure shot through him when Steve simply bumped his Nike sneaker against Eddie’s Reebok in answer and then left it there, pressed close together.

“No wonder you did drama,” Steve observed, twisting a bite around in his mouth as he sucked up the bright red streak of strawberry syrup. “You’re a total natural, man. Kinda, like…hypnotic.”

Eddie tried not to make it too obvious, how closely he was following the way Steve licked up every last morsel.

“Yeah, until he dropped out like a quitter.”

“What can I say, Buckley? Organized–well, anything really–just ain’t for me.”

“Says the guy who literally runs an afterschool club,” she pointed the end of her plastic spoon at him in accusation. “Sounds to me like you’re full of it, Eddie.”

“She’s got you there, man,” Steve agreed with a shrug, a drop from his sundae dribbling onto the table as he swirled it around yet again.

“Oh, napkins!”

Slapping a palm against her forehead, Robin clambered over Steve and out of the booth, not so much as hesitating to give him a chance to stand up.

“You know, if you wanna see more where that came from–my flare for theatrics, that is–you could always, I don’t know. Stick around when you drop off the kiddos next week?” As Eddie posed the question, he wondered if the lilt in his voice sounded too hopeful. “I won’t even make you play. You have my word as a dungeon master and a gentleman.”

“Yeah, uh…fat chance of that happening,” Steve murmured, voice low, almost like he didn’t want Eddie to actually hear him, “your friends fucking hate me, dude.”

“They don't hate you,” Eddie protested automatically, feeling the need to defend them even as his own heart sank in his chest, “they're just…a little skittish, after everything that went down with Jason. You–you get that, right?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugged, looking down as he stirred his spoon through his steadily melting soft serve. When he glanced up at Eddie again, a tenseness crept in around the edges of his smile that Eddie desperately wished he could help wipe away. “I get it.”

Robin returned to the table before either of them got a chance to say anything else, sliding over Steve’s lap with enough clumsy limbed flailing it prompted a, Sheesh, Rob. Watch the elbows, will you? out of Steve.

Seeing an opening, Eddie quickly changed the subject.

“So, speaking of the ins-and-outs of living in the institution that is our organized society–how is Family Video treating my two favorite, upstanding, and gainfully employed Hawkins citizens?”

Robin snorted. “It’s minimum wage, Eddie. How good could it possibly be?”

“Well, I mean–you could trade places with me if you wanted. Be gainfully unemployed with a side hustle that went up in smoke since that whole–you know, accused of being a ritual Satanic murderer thing put the local law enforcement on your tail.”

Both Steve’s eyebrows shot up at that. “The cop’s still giving you trouble?”

“Not in so many words, but, uh–let’s just say they’ve made it pretty clear I’m not exactly their favorite person, right now. So, yeah. Officer Callahan must have circled the trailer park like–three different times, last night.”

“But…you were exonerated,” Robin protested, the force of her distress clear from the way she slapped a palm down flat on top of the table. “That–that’s a total misappropriation of police funds, not to mention harassment of a private citizen.”

“You ever think that maybe they’re just keeping an eye on the place?” Steve suggested hopefully, “You know…after everything that happened.”

“Your adorably positive outlook has been noted, Stevie. Noted, but ultimately dismissed.”

“Want me to talk to Hop for you? Get him to tell them to stand down?”

“Nah, man,” Eddie gave a forceful shake of his head, hair whipping around him in a messy cloud, “I can handle it. I’ve got plenty of experience, evading the Hawkins Police force.”

Rubbing a finger over his sideburn, Steve tilted his head from side-to-side in consideration, before he casually added, “Guess we all do, now.”

“A band of fearsome outlaws, that’s us,” Robin agreed, her nose crinkling as she laughed, loud and bright.

“More like Robin Hood and his merry men.” At Robin’s pointed glance, Eddie was quick to amend, “…And women, of course.”

The conversation flowed along at a rapid fire pace from there, the three of them at first trying to assign different characters from the story to all the members of the party before devolving fast into a debate about which cinematic performance of the lead character was the best–and sexiest, though Eddie didn’t divulge that was most of the metric he was using for his answers–and thus which adaptation came out on top. Robin fell into the same camp as him–Errol Flynn all the way–while Steve was a firm defender of the Disney version because, That little fox guy is cute and charismatic, guys, you can’t even argue with me on this one.

When he had slurped up the last remnants of his malt, Eddie stretched his arms above his head, leaned back against the booth’s cracking red vinyl, and sighed.

“Fancy a smoke break?” he asked, pulling the pack from his pocket and waving it tantalizingly for Steve to see.

Steve laughed with a roll of his eyes.

“You know I quit, dude.”

“And so should you,” Robin added pointedly, an argument she’d made countless times since Eddie got out of the hospital, pretty much every single time she caught him lighting up.

“Cut me some slack, Buckley,” Eddie said, same as he always did. “I’ve been through a traumatic experience. Ciggies are good for the stress, since I can’t exactly smoke weed outside this fine, family friendly establishment.”

“Uh-huh,” Robin replied, deadpan and unconvinced as ever, “we’ve all got our fair share of U.D. related trauma, Eddie. That’s not an excuse to suck on those…little sticks made out of cancer.”

“Alright, well. Fancy a stand-outside-with-me-and-bullshit break, then?” Eddie directed at Steve.

Robin raised an eyebrow at him, and Eddie couldn’t quite read the expression on her face. It seemed…knowing in a way he was too afraid to totally unpack.

She saved him the trouble of having to do so by letting out a put upon sigh, dramatic enough for him or Steve either one when they got going, and a true reflection of the fact she had stuck it out through almost four years of high school theater.

“Stealing away my own best friend to go join your boys’ club, Eddie? Really? And right in front of me, too. You know, this is just like second grade, when Trevor Milligan convinced all the boys in our class girls had cooties, and Bobby B. wouldn’t race me on the monkey bars anymore.”

Laying a hand over his heart, Eddie had to fight down the grin that threatened to split across his face. “I solemnly vow to bring him back all in one piece, Buck. I know who's top dog around here.”

The nod she gave him was swift and authoritative. “And don’t you forget it.”

With a wink and a click of his tongue, he mock saluted her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She turned to Steve, giving his bicep several sharp pokes. “But just because I'm the girl doesn't mean I deserve to get saddled with child-rearing responsibilities, you know!”

“We're not children,” Red interjected with a dry sort of exasperation from the next booth over.

Her point was immediately undermined by Lucas, using the makeshift catapult he'd made from his spoon to fling a maraschino cherry at Dustin. The other boy let out an indignant squawk when it missed his mouth entirely and got caught right in his curly hair.

Even from behind her glasses, it was pretty obvious what sort of look Max was giving her boyfriend.

“Correction…I'm not a child.”

“Sorry.” Lucas's grin was sheepish.

“Rob,” Steve said flatly, ignoring the kids’ antics to instead pin her with his own look, like she was being ridiculous.

Which was…pretty fair, this time, in Eddie's opinion. He wasn't sure he'd ever met anyone with quite the same intense level of tired dad–mom–whatever energy as Steve had, and all before he'd even hit his early twenties. When it came to babysitting duties, he definitely wasn't a slacker.

“I'm just saying, as a feminist, I thought you should know,” Robin waved her spoon at them, managing to pull the move off without so much as a drip of her ice cream plopping onto the table.

“We agreed that you'd be the fun uncle,” Steve argued, the lack of protest from Robin proving that was, in fact, a conversation they'd already had, “so then be the fun uncle while Mom and Dad step outside.”

“Mom and Dad?” Robin echoed, eyebrow raising and face scrunching in transparent disbelief–and Eddie had to admit, he was caught on the exact same thing.

Steve only waved a hand at her, rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean. Look, it’s only gonna be like fifteen minutes, tops. If you do it I’ll–” Steve spun his hand around in several aimless, pinwheel like motions before finally snapping his fingers in revelation, “I’ll let you put on whatever movie you want at work on Monday!”

Robin stuck her hand out to him. “Make it ten, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Tapping a finger on his top lip, Steve pursed his mouth in thought for a moment.

“...Twelve,” he bartered. “And you can make it a black and white one. With subtitles.”

Robin’s face lit up, teeth glimmering with the sheer force of her glee.

“Look at that. You really do know the way to a girl’s heart, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, giving her hand one firm, business-like shake.

Eddie was already up, having impatiently shimmied several paces away from the booth, by the time Steve stood and fell into step beside him.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Eddie couldn’t resist shouting over his shoulder, “Make sure they eat all their vegetables!”

Steve met Eddie’s shit-eating grin with one of his own before adding, “And no scary movies before bedtime!”

Seven individual hands all popped up, shooting them the bird as one.

By the time they stepped out onto the sidewalk, they were both stumbling into each other’s sides with laughter.

—

Once they were outside and had managed to pull themselves together, Eddie stuck one of the smokes in his mouth and went straight for his lighter, his craving growing palpable. But, as that meant he had to rummage around the tangle of other things jammed inside his pocket, just laying in wait to come spilling out–like a nearly empty pack of Big Red gum, a crumpled receipt, and the spare die Eddie kept on his person in case of D&D-related emergencies–he fumbled it, the BIC hitting the ground with a sad thump.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he complained out of reflex, both from general annoyance and just a tinge of embarrassment, feeling the burn of it with his klutziness deciding to come out around Steve in full force.

Nat 1 on charisma, Munson. Critical failure.

Steve waved a dismissive hand at him. “I got it, man, I got it.”

And before Eddie could protest, he was stooping down beside him to pick the lighter up off the asphalt of the Dairy Queen parking lot, giving it a toss into his hand like the total show off he was.

Eddie was about to make a crack about it, something along the lines of You just gotta demonstrate your athletic prowess in front of us lesser mortals, doncha, Harrington?–except, well. He didn’t get the chance.

Because, one second, Steve was popping up and waving the lighter cockily at him, grin bright on his face, and, the next…

The next, and totally without warning, he was leaning in close, cupping his hand to light the cigarette dangling from Eddie’s lips for him.

Eddie inhaled on instinct, taking a long drag as the cherry glowed to life, a stark red in the fading light of dusk. As for the sudden rush that went to his head–he had little doubt that it was just from the hit of nicotine alone.

And–maybe it was a trick of the low light. But for a long, breathless moment, Steve’s eyes seemed to linger on Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie’s heartbeat kicked up in answer, rabbiting wildly in his throat. The air between them grew thick, heavy-laden with tension that seemed to almost crackle like electricity.

Eddie took the cigarette from his lips slowly, dropping his hand to let it hang at his side. And, still, Steve’s gaze never wavered, eye line still leveled directly at his mouth. If one of them were to just finally cave into the building pressure, sway forward and close that distance between them, maybe they could…

But, then, from one blink to the next, the heated expression on Steve’s face cleared, replaced by a guileless, easy smile.

…Eddie tried to tamp down on the flare of disappointment he felt at the sight of it.

“You know, man–Robin’s totally right about those things.”

Steve dragged a finger across his throat, pretending to choke as he briefly mimed his own dramatic death scene. The Eddie of a year ago wouldn’t have believed it–but the Eddie of now knew better, had been exposed to Steve’s silly antics on more than one occasion. He could be just as big a goofball as Dustin, as any of the kids, as Eddie himself when he wanted to be.

“You really should cut back.”

It was all so…normal. Casual. A light chiding about bad habits in an airy tone, like…

Like everything before hadn’t happened at all.

Eddie stared at Steve for a long moment, trying to read the expression in his wide, hazel eyes. But…they were totally and completely inscrutable to him.

And, look. Eddie was queerer than a three dollar bill–had been since gawky adolescence hit him like a freight train, all too-long limbs and sudden, embarrassingly consistent morning wood. Dudes or chicks, it didn’t matter. Like Bowie, Eddie was an equal opportunist…for all the good it had ever done him, able to count the times he’d made a pass and hadn’t struck out on one hand. Being Hawkins local freak would do that to a guy, and that was before the murder charges and cult-leader accusations.

But the thought that Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington was anything other than stalwartly heterosexual in the most apple-pie, white-picket-fence, boy-next-store way imaginable? The idea should have been laughable. And a year ago, Eddie would have done just that, laughed it off with a no way, man rolling easily off his tongue.

But now…now he wasn’t so sure.

Because there was something electric about the growing familiarity that had popped up between him and Steve the closer they’d gotten since their fateful spring break excursion to the Upside Down. He felt it, when Steve slung his arm over the back of the couch when Eddie sat next to him during movie night, or laid a hand in the small of Eddie’s back, easy as anything, to keep him steady when the kids all jostled ahead of them to get through the door at the arcade.

Maybe it was all just some vestige from Steve’s high school glory days, leftover jock rituals Eddie knew nothing about. Maybe it was total wishful thinking on Eddie’s part, as his crush steadily grew into something gargantuan. Shit, that’s what he tried to tell himself most of the time, if only for his own sanity–but he was still reluctant to say it was all in his head. Especially when moments like this kept cropping up more and more.

…Eddie was too afraid to push it, though. Hardly over a month old, technically–even though some days it felt like a lifetime–the friendship between them was new. Not delicate, not hardly, but still not something Eddie was looking to scare off when it’d only just gotten started.

So as the uncertainty settled over him, Eddie finally ducked his head for an instant, gnawing at his bottom lip. Then he reached over and gave Steve’s temple a teasing tap.

“Sometimes, I just wonder what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, Stevie.”

The flirtation was thick, sure, but it was easy enough to play it off the same way he always did–just some harmless teasing between two guys, nothing serious. Plus, Eddie figured Steve was more than used to his antics by now. Sometimes, his over-the-top personality really did pay off.

But behind those words was the truth of Eddie’s thoughts, swirling over and over again.

Fuck. If only I could get inside his head. Then, maybe I’d be able to figure out what the hell he’s thinking.

For a split second, he could have sworn Steve’s shoulders stiffened, posture going unexpectedly rigid. But then Steve laughed, brushing the swoop of his hair back, fingers dancing tantalizingly close to Eddie’s own, and Eddie was left to wonder if it was just more of his mind playing tricks on him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I’m like an open book. Ask anybody around and they’ll tell you–you don’t have to put yourself out to get an answer. It’s pretty much all, like…hair care tips and sports stats, 24/7 up here.”

“Come on, Steve,” Eddie scoffed, “I don’t believe that shit for even a second.”

Steve only shook his head, smile still firmly in place.

“Not sure what to tell you, dude. It’s true. Besides,” the word came out lower, almost as if Steve was talking to himself, “between the two of us, pretty sure you’re more the man of mystery than I am, dude.”

At that, Eddie let out a startled bark of laughter.

“Me?! You cannot be serious with that one, Harrington, no way in hell. Have you seen me? If anybody’s the open book here, it’s me. I’m practically a screaming headline on the late night news. Every single thought and feeling I’ve ever had automatically comes flying,” Eddie pressed his hand against his lips and made a sound like an explosion, splaying his fingers out, “straight out of my mouth. Always has. Just ask my old man, he used to bitch about it all the time. ‘Quit that blubbering and toughen up, Eddie, or life will steamroll right over you.’”

Steve’s lips pursed, the same knowing but insulted look he always wore when the infamous Munson patriarch came up in conversation.

“Your dad sounds like a real jackass, Eds.”

Eddie could only hum his agreement.

Everybody in Hawkins knew Al Munson, low down no-account that he was. His reputation preceded him–and Eddie, more often than not. But Steve had more of the inside scoop than most, Eddie having opened up to both him and Robin about his home life.

Still, he wondered at the vehemence with which Steve defended him, any time the mention of his absentee patriarch came up. By contrast, Eddie didn’t know jackshit about the Harringtons apart from the fact that they were hotshots around town. Steve never mentioned them, not really, and Eddie had never run into them the times he’d been over to Steve’s place. Which was…pretty weird in and of itself, wasn’t it?

Yet another mysterious piece of the puzzle that was Steve Harrington.

“I don’t know, man,” Steve shrugged, voice gone quiet again, tugging Eddie out of his reverie. “I kinda think your book might be in Hobbit, or whatever it’s called from those books you guys love so much, because I don’t really see you that way at all.”

Reaching out, he suddenly caught a strand of Eddie’s hair between two fingers. Eddie sucked in a sharp breath at the gesture, face going hot.

“Besides, haven’t you ever heard of tall, dark, and mysterious? If the hair fits.”

Steve gave the curl a light tug before dropping it. Eddie immediately snatched it back up, tugging it like a curtain across his mouth, desperate to hide the faint color on his cheeks.

“Guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one, dude.”

Steve let out what sounded like an amused huff. “Looks like it.”

When Steve looked down at his watch, Eddie realized, in the time they’d been talking, that he’d smoked his cigarette down to a nub.

“We should probably head back inside,” Steve gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, “before all of Lucas’s toppings somehow end up in Dustin’s hair, and Robin decides to ground them all until they’re twenty-five.”

As he stubbed out the bud with his shoe, Eddie fiddled with his rings, trying to subtly shake off some of the tension that had seemed to build up in the air around their conversation. When he met Steve’s eyes again, he was all cheery smiles, hoping he didn’t look too manic as his cheeks stretched with the force of it.

“Well, now, we couldn’t have that,” Eddie agreed, even as he added, “–Thought she said she wasn’t parenting material, though? Pretty sure fun uncles don’t have to ground people.”

His own uncle was more like a father than anything else, and still he’d never really bothered to try grounding Eddie–his disappointed stare always did more to deter Eddie away from his own stupidity than anything else ever had.

“Sure, she says that, until somebody gets chocolate ice cream on her new favorite button down. Then it’s goddamn,” Steve let out one long, forlorn beep followed by two shorter ones–an unmistakable imitation of Pac-Man’s game over death knell, and proof of just how much time he spent at the arcade with the kids, “over for everybody involved, including me somehow.”

“I mean, you did call us Mom and Dad, man. Guess that makes us responsible whenever the kiddos misbehave.”

Steve sighed, long and loud and clearly just a little exaggerated for Eddie’s benefit, if the way Steve widened his eyes in mock fear was anything to go by.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Those little shits can stir up all kinds of trouble in ten minutes flat. No telling what the damage is.”

So, with one last jocular pat to Eddie’s back, he began herding him back inside the shop.

And when Eddie’s own traitorous heart gave a twist at such a small, meaningless gesture? All he could do was send a silent curse up to the sky, and do his best to ignore it.

—

That night, Eddie fell through a tangle of twisting, nonsensical dreams.

At first, he was in the stolen RV, relieving a memory. The Upside Down crew–Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin–stood all around him, preparing for that fateful last trip to try and stop Vecna. After reciting their orders, his hand clapped down on Dustin’s head in reassurance, a last show of camaraderie before they headed off into battle.

But then, without warning, the ground seemed to shift right beneath his feet.

Coming out of the haze, he found himself staring at a refrigerator, standing in a kitchen he didn’t immediately recognize. On autopilot, with a feeling like his body was being tugged by invisible strings he couldn’t quite control, his hand swung down again, the motion identical as he gave Dustin a fond scuff over his cap. Except…Dustin was shorter, this time, and undeniably younger. And Eddie, well–the Members Only jacket hanging over his shoulders was definitely not his own, though he thought he had spotted one identical to it hanging in the back of Steve’s closet.

He barely had time to register those weird little details before the world was going topsy turvy yet again.

Eddie was on his back, a swirl of bats circling overhead like a storm against the violent red splash of Upside Down sky. As his sides screamed in agony, wooziness clenched down on his mind with a vice grip, not at all helped by the fact that the scene around him kept changing.

One second, he was shirtless, dampness and grime clinging to his chest hair, Nancy Wheeler’s mouth a grim line as she stared down at him with an oar in hand. Then he blinked, and Dustin’s face swam into view above him, fuzzy as Eddie’s own vision blurred around the edges.

Blink. Wheeler and Buckley, fighting off demobats like two warrior women worthy of only the grandest of campaigns.

Blink. Dustin, screaming his name so harshly, his throat had to be raw from it.

Blink. The outline of Eddie himself, shouting up at the sky, demanding they give him all they’d got despite the fucking bone-deep terror he knew he’d been feeling. The out-of-body sensation that slammed into him, existing somehow both inside and outside the moment all at once, was so jarring Eddie’s stomach lurched, like he was going to be sick.

Back and forth, again and again, like the world’s worst, most bizarre merry-go-round…until finally, Dustin solidified, Eddie’s own memory draping over him like a well-worn but ill-fitting shirt. He flinched a little as he felt dampness drip against his cheeks, and a long moment stretched on before Eddie fully realized that it wasn’t rain hitting him in the face, but instead the fat tears currently racing down the bridge of the other boy’s nose.

He knew this moment well, viscerally, a long, hellish stretch that had revisited him night after night the past month–and one he’d do almost anything to forget.

His final goodbyes exchanged, Eddie’s eyes slipped shut of their own accord. It wasn’t peaceful, exactly–some part of Eddie deep down still railed, pissed as hell at what was happening to him–but he was also so fucking tired, after days on the run. Worn out and fed up, and ready to just get some fucking rest.

So, when the blackness swallowed him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this time, it really would be for good.

–And then a faint, familiar voice rang out in the distance.

“Dustin?!” Eddie heard Steve scream, like a tether pulling him back into his own body. “Eddie?! You gotta be fucking kidding me, where the hell are you guys?!”

The heavy thud of footfalls drew closer, and Eddie practically felt the ground shake as another body collapsed beside Dustin.

The world flashed, spun again. Suddenly, Eddie was sliding across the rough terrain of the alternate world on his knees, the sound of Dustin’s soft cries making his heart ache…and his own lifeless body spread out on the ground in front of him.

Large hands fisted in the front of Eddie’s vest, tugging at him urgently.

“Munson! Munson!” Steve’s words spilled from Eddie’s mouth as his grip on the fabric tightened, giving him a hard shake. “Eddie, come on! I told you not to be a hero. Don’t even think about it, dude–you’re not dying on us now!”

Eddie remembered this, too. Steve’s steely, urgent tone, brooking no arguments, like he could actually will Eddie back to life if he wanted to. Except this time–this time Eddie actually felt the terror behind the words, the urgency making Steve’s voice tremble in his throat. Experienced, in real time, the relief hitting like a truck, flooding through his veins, when his own brown eyes slipped open.

“Did-Didn’t realize you were my commanding officer, Harrington,” the Eddie on the ground murmured–more like croaked, the sentence breaking unpleasantly in the middle.

“You’re damn right I am,” Steve answered, jaw clenching, and Eddie could feel his muscle twitching with it, “if that’s what it takes to get you to stick around, man, consider me a five star general.”

He’s alive, he’s alive, the Steve in his head sang, again and again, thank fuck, he’s alive.

Because, there and then, he…was Steve. The twin emotions of Steve’s own swelling hope that Eddie might make it coupled with Eddie’s own real shock from what Steve was feeling at the time warred inside him, threatening to overwhelm him.

Then, like the force of that emotion had thrown him, Eddie landed hard on his back again. Confusion hit him as he glanced down and realized that he was shirtless–Steve was entirely shirtless. Because this had been his memory, before, and now Eddie was back in it.

The revelation had barely settled before agony quickly drowned out anything else, the demo-bats starting to gnaw at his bare sides. One of their tails wrapped tightly around Eddie’s throat, and his hands shot up, uselessly trying to pry it off. He could feel that darkness creeping in again, the familiar sensation of being knocked unconscious rising up to meet him.

Fourth time’s a charm, I guess, the voice inside Eddie’s head was wry, and it still definitely wasn’t his own. You made a good run of it, Harrington, but looks like your luck finally ran out this time.

The resignation of it, the acceptance, was enough to shake Eddie to the bone.

No-no-no, no! Some desperate, deeply buried part of him screamed out. You–You’re the goddamn hero, Stevie. You don’t get to give up.

When the oar slammed down near his head this time, Wheeler calling out a quick Hey, there with Robin and Eddie himself at her sides…Eddie had never been so happy to see someone in his entire fucking life, freaky out-of-body experience be damned.

The vision, memory, whatever it was…it released Eddie, finally.

And then Steve was there, standing before him, clad in nothing but sleep shorts and his gray Hawkins Phys Ed shirt, his hair mussed. Darkness surrounded them on all sides, too fuzzy and dim for Eddie to make anything out apart from the figure facing him.

Steve’s lips moved, the shape of them making out what Eddie thought was his name. Dread dripped down his spine, however, as he realized that no sound–not so much as a peep–followed.

“Stevie?” he answered, the panicked shrillness evident in his own voice even as he couldn’t hear Steve’s own. “I can’t–shit, man, I can’t hear you.”

Steve’s face drew down into a frown, forehead wrinkled, concern and frustration warring on his face. He tried to speak again, but still, Eddie couldn’t hear a thing. Hand flying upwards, Steve gestured to his own ear, finger tapping it once.

Eddie shook his head. “Sorry, dude, I–I’ve got nothing.”

On instinct, he reached out a placating hand. Glancing down to see it extended towards him, Steve did the same. Eddie felt his chest clench a little, finding comfort in the thought that even in a moment like this, when they couldn’t hear what the other was saying, they still managed to broach some common ground.

Their fingertips brushed. A spark ran through Eddie at the touch, seeming almost to infect their surroundings as red lighting suddenly flashed all around them.

Between one blink to the next, Steve disappeared.

Before he had a chance to cry out, Eddie realized, horror steadily climbed up his throat, that the figure now staring back at him was…himself?

And not a memory version this time, either. No, this was a living, breathing double.

His doppelganger’s brow furrowed, head tilting to one side, a bit like a confused puppy.

It was like the sound had been turned on all at once, because when the other Eddie spoke, he could finally hear him.

“Eddie?” his mirror image asked, looking past Eddie, around him, anywhere but directly at him.

If he had ever made it to that shrink Owens recommended, he bet they would have had a field day unpacking whatever this was.

Hands Eddie hadn’t even realized had still been clasped parted, slipping away from each other.

And then, Eddie was sucked back into darkness, feeling adrift as any chance at seeing Steve, his doppelganger, anything and anyone vanished into the distance. He was lost, totally and utterly, and he felt it, every bit of it, the weight crushing in on him as the last dregs of the dream faded away.

—

The next morning, Eddie woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed.

Part 2

Taglist: @highkingpenny @tinytalkingtina @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @thefreakandthehair @lingeringmirth @eriquin @bifuriouswaterbender @fuctacles

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #the party #buckington besties #brotp: babysitter's club #steddie bodyswap au #bodyswap au #my writing #my stuff #my things

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shiny-crocodile · 3 months

Text

the best person i've ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary:

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 5

Chapter summary: fluffier than fluff

Notes: shorter one and this is soppy but let me know if you like fluff, angst or smut more, i like a balance but will give the people what they want

“Just drop your stuff anywhere,” Ona said as they entered her flat. Lucy would describe the place as having ‘organised mess’, very clean and not dissimilar to her own place but maybe slightly less tidy.

Even though this was just a rental, Ona had definitely made the place her own with photos, posters and warm furnishings scattered around.

The younger girl marched straight to the fridge and put their new photos up under a magnet, knowing full well that visitors would see it.

“Nice place,” Lucy commented, putting her bag down and sliding her shoes off out of routine as she entered the open plan living room and kitchen, “might have to get rid of that though,” she said pointing to the big Man U cushion on the sofa.

“Noooo,” Ona protested, darting across the room to protect her favourite cushion, using her whole body to guard it from Lucy.

The older girl couldn’t help but laugh, making her way over to the sofa, “ok, ok, it can stay,” she said.

Ona turned around, feeling her cushion was safe from harm. Still sat on the sofa she reached out, using grabby hands to show Lucy she wanted her to come closer, who complied.

When she was in reaching distance, Ona grabbed Lucy by her hoodie and pulled her onto the sofa, using her surprising strength to reposition them so Lucy was pushed back against the sofa, the Spaniard straddling her.

Ona, keen to pick up where they left off in the booth, brought her head down to kiss Lucy passionately, both grabbing each other desperately.

The younger girl sat back, removing her jumper combined with her t-shirt, tugging at Lucy’s to try do the same. Lucy took the hint and pulled off both tops, leaving the girls both just in bras.

The shorter brunette audibly gasped as she took in the sight of Lucy’s abs for the first time. “Woah,” she said not being able to stop herself from stroking her hand across the English girl’s perfect stomach.

Lucy chuckled at the reaction, which wasn’t an uncommon one for her. “Woah to you too,” she said, making quick work of Ona’s bra so her chest fell loose. Lucy attached her mouth to Ona’s right boob, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“No, I’ve had my turn,” she said, pushing Lucy backwards. No way was she seeing those abs and not giving them all the attention they deserved.

She slowly licked up the crevice in the English girls 6 pack, loving the goosebumps she saw appearing from her touch.

She slowly undid Lucy’s trousers, excited to get her first taste of the girl beneath her. But her progress was interrupted by a rumble.

Ona looked up at Lucy’s face, who was looking down at her with so much lust and affection in her eyes it gave Ona all kinds of feelings.

“Was that your stomach?” Ona asked, seeing the funny side of the interruption.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy laughed, embarrassed, “it’s really betrayed me here.”

“Well we better not anger it further then,” Ona said, removing her hands from Lucy’s trousers and getting upright to look at her phone.

“You fucker,” Lucy muttered downwards to scold her stomach.

“Sushi first, then dessert,” Ona promised with a wink, not bothering to put her top back on while she chose their food, much to Lucy’s delight as she could sit there and admire the Spaniard, feeling lucky and blessed to be in her company.

////

They ate their food sat on the sofa with music playing at a low volume in the background. Ona had fiddled with the lighting to create a nice little vibe.

They sat with legs brushing against each other, occasionally intertwining, both feeling very happy and content, but there was a small thing playing on Lucy’s mind.

“What did you mean earlier,” Lucy said, toying with her chopsticks before picking up another piece of Sushi, “when you said about how you were trying to keep this friendly?”

“I guess just that. I’ve been trying to keep things on a friendly level… but obviously failed.”

“But why was that?” Lucy asked, feeling a little insecure. “Have you always been just trying to keep it friendly?”

The English girl paused to let the Spaniard answer but she just shoved another piece of sushi in her mouth, so Lucy continued.

“I guess I just wanna make sure I’m not forcing you or anything? I know I’ve been coming on quite strong and kind of thought you liked that, but I can tone it down if you don’t want that.”

Ona wanted to keep eating her sushi but knew it was time for her to reply, “You’re definitely not forcing me. I want this, I’m having a good time.” She hoped that would be the end of that, not wanting to have this conversation.

“So you want this now but didn’t want it before?” Lucy asked, not reading Ona’s tone well enough to know when to stop pushing.

Ona sighed, “Lucy, come on. I’m having a good time, hopefully you’re having a good time, let’s just leave it there.”

Lucy knew Ona was right, they were having a good time so she should let it go. However she couldn’t control the shift in her own body language. She stood up, removing the points of contact between them.

“Just getting some water, do you want some?” Lucy asked. Ona muffled out a no through her mouth full of sushi.

It was easy for the Spaniard to see Lucy’s change in demeanour, but she found it sweet that the older girl was still doting on her.

Lucy went to the toilet on her way, which delayed her return to the sofa.

She sat back down slightly further away from Ona now so their legs could no longer touch, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Luuuuuucy,” Ona said, tilting her head to the side, pouting and fluttering her eyelashes.

“Onnnniiiiii,” Lucy responded, chucking a new nickname into the mix.

“You’re being weird,” Ona said, pointing out the obvious.

“I know, I’m sorry, I get a little in my head sometimes. I’ll snap out of it. Might go get changed, shall we put a movie on?”

Ona could sense from Lucy’s whole vibe right now that this meant they’d watch a movie and keep all touching PG.

In contrast to her mindset at the start of the day, there was no way Ona was going to let that happen.

“No, let’s talk, I don’t want this to be bothering you,” Ona said, “and I want hands all over me Lucy back, not pyjamas and movie Lucy.”

Lucy laughed, feeling lighter now jokes were being cracked.

Ona continued, “I wanted to keep it friendly today, and I’ve wanted to keep in friendly the last few weeks. It’s not because I don’t fancy you, like come on, I reeeeeeally fancy you.”

Lucy chuckled, Ona unintentionally sounding very Mancunian. “So how come then?”

“Well, if I’m being 100% honest, and I don’t want you to have to rehash stuff again and bring up this old trauma for you,” Ona took a deep brief, giving Lucy the opportunity to stop her but she didn’t. “I still felt a little worried about the whole Keira and Lola thing.”

Ona looked up at Lucy whose face was surprisingly calm, encouraging her to carry on and giving her time to speak.

“I think your reaction was completely understandable, and I’m happy you told me so I could understand better, but it’s still so fresh for you and I just don’t want you to rush into anything with me,” she took her eyes off Lucy and started toying with her napkin. “I trust that you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me but I know myself, I know how bad it would hurt if your mind was elsewhere and you were still carrying something for someone else. It was more of a need to protect myself.”

She looked back up to Lucy and was met with the warmest and most understanding look, which was needed after feeling a little vulnerable from revealing her worries.

Lucy knew this was her turn to speak, searching for the right thing to say. Not really knowing what she could say to put Ona’s mind at ease, until she had a thought.

“One second,” Lucy said, picking herself up off the sofa and leaving Ona more than a little surprised as she walked out the room.

Lucy walked back into the room a minute later, phone in hand as she held it out to Ona. “Read this conversation with Soph.”

Ona took the phone, it was a conversation between Lucy and her younger sister from after the first night they met at the wedding.

Lucy - this girl Soph! I swear to god I’m done for!

Soph - oh my god, at a wedding!! Who is sheeeee?

Lucy had sent a link to Ona’s instagram, giving her a follow at the same time.

Soph - she’s gorggg.

Soph - United player? Is this the first time you’ve met?

Lucy - tell me about it 🫠

Lucy - yeah first time properly. I think she might be the best person I’ve ever met

Soph - woah slow down, you met her like 5 hours ago!! 🤣

Lucy - sis I am gonna be in love with this girl by Easter I swear, something about her 😭

Soph - you must be drunk

Lucy - 😂

Lucy - a bit but this is sober thoughts, drunk honesty

Soph - why you messaging me then, go get your girl!!

Soph - nah but seriously, I’m buzzing for you

Soph - you deserve to feel like this more than anyone x

Lucy - love you, see you in a couple days x

Ona lifted her head up slowly to Lucy when she’d finished. It was only a short and drunken conversation but the way the sisters spoke to each other and the way Lucy spoke about her had her eyes brimming with tears. She wiped them away with her sleeve, sniffing as she smiled at the beautiful, kind, loving girl in front of her.

“No one has ever spoken about me like that,” Ona said between sniffs.

Lucy brought the Spaniards hand into hers, kissing it softly. “That isn’t even the half of it, you should hear my calls with my mum,” Lucy joked, “I didn’t want to come on even stronger than I already was with all this stuff, didn’t want to scare you off, but yeah. That’s how I felt after night 1, so I’ll leave it to your imagination for how I’m feeling now.”

This was everything Ona needed to here. She could put on a tough front but this had been playing on her mind for weeks and Lucy was able to put her at ease with a few words.

They lingered in the cuddle before Lucy pulled away, not done yet.

“And the Keira and Lola thing-“

“You don’t have to Luce,” Ona said, happy with the reassurance she’d been given and not wanting to make Lucy relive it.

“No, I’m good,” Lucy said calmly, “I went for coffee with Keira last week. She’d been chasing me around training trying to speak to me so I thought I’d give her the time of day.”

“What did she say?” Ona asked, playing with Lucy’s fingers.

“She admitted that the drunken Christmas kiss was not just a drunken Christmas kiss, they went back to our house, but it was just that night and she regretted it but was scared if she told me she would lose me.”

“Really? So what were they doing together in the restaurant then?” Ona asked, suddenly feeling a bit protective over Lucy, thinking Keira’s excuse for being dishonest was a bit pathetic.

Lucy played with Ona’s fingers as she said, “Lola has been offered a job at Barça.”

Ona dropped Lucy’s hand in shock. Eyes widening to search for more in the older girl’s face.

“She wanted to meet up with Keira to ask if she would be ok with her accepting it.”

“No way!”

“Keira said she would rather she didn’t.”

Ona went back to playing with Lucy’s hand, stroking it this time as she said, “kind of fucked that she’d even ask knowing that you play there though.”

“I guess,” Lucy said, not really thinking up till now about the fact that if Keira had said it was ok then Lucy would have to work in the same place as both of them.

“How are you feeling?” Ona asked. Lucy had stated the facts but not really shown much emotion or opinion.

“Honestly fine,” Lucy said, “obviously it’s not the nicest situation but the second Keira told me the truth it felt like a weight had lifted off of my shoulders.”

“Well that’s good,” Ona said, she could tell Lucy was being genuine, smiling at the difference from a month ago.

“Yeah, like zero anger, zero anything, it all just kind of went away. Can’t really explain it really, even surprised myself. We moved on from that conversation, started talking about Narla, and the whole thing hasn’t even crossed my mind till now.”

Ona cringed a bit, feeling responsible for making her think about it again, “sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Lucy reassured, gently stroking Ona’s cheek as she continued, “I just want you to know that you’re my priority, I know it’s still early days but all I care about is making sure you feel safe and secure and cared for. I swear the rest of the stuff is just background noise and it’s muted completely when I’m with you.”

Lucy brought her face closer to Ona’s, their lips meeting in the most gentle and loving way.

“Well, if you ever want your ego boosted in return, you let me know,” Ona joked as they pulled away, making Lucy laugh. “No but seriously, I felt the same as you after we first met and I feel it a million times more now. I’ve never experienced anything like this and I’m so thankful that you chased and that you’ve been so honest and caring with me. I feel so lucky.”

The Spaniard kissed Lucy again, stroking her hair before she started tugging at the older player’s t-shirt again.

“Ok, take your clothes off now. You may be better at saying how you feel but I know I’m better at showing it.”

“Game on, bonita.”

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze fanfic #lucy bronze ona batlle #ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #woso fanfics #luna fanfic #woso community #woso imagine #luna

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whatyadrawin · 7 months

Text

The Fruit After the Flesh 18+ -Chapter 9-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 4,872 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Sexual language, foul language, scary moment. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: This chapter took me so long to complete! I had to read over it and edit like four times. I took 48 hrs to make all the art pieces starting from 3pm march first until 6am march second, took a nap, started back up to finish the art at 2:30pm and finalized EVERYTHING for upload at 6am March 3rd. I'm tired bro, I got so carried away with the art I really should have cut it down to just 3 images but artists always suffer for their passion, it's our curse. Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa

Chapter 9

The days at the Hewitt house went by slow as molasses, within these dragging days a construction crew had arrived and began repairing your home. They worked quickly and made a lot of headway which is unusual for contractors, the team seemed eager to leave for some unspoken reason. The foreman said that in one month, you would get your home back; you were excited to have your life get back on track despite enjoying your time at the Hewitt house. You made sure to water and trim the fruit trees so that they didn’t overgrow or die, since Dover was still missing, all the responsibility was left up to you. There was so much work to do but you were happy to be able to contribute your time to the property. In the passing days you didn’t see much of Tommy, he seemed preoccupied and was frequently away from the farm which only made the days last longer for you.

Half past 4pm, the day was really wearing on you and the sun was getting low in the sky so you decided to leave the orchard and head back to the Hewitt house to rest. On your walk back, you think about Tommy’s room and what it must look like, when you saw the door under that menacing red light it was simultaneously both frightening and intriguing.

The basement was such a dark and quiet place, so spacious and empty; You remembered that room with hooks that Tommy swiftly prevented you from exploring, your curiosity grew when he spun you around and slammed the door shut. This family has a mysterious history to you, the mention of them allegedly eating people weighed heavy on your mind -can I really get past the fact that they might have been cannibals? – it felt easier to gaslight yourself into thinking everything was fine, so you ran it out of your head.

When you arrived at the house, you make your way through the parlor and see Luda Mae sitting on the couch in the living room. She was reading a romance novel with a muscular, golden-haired man on the cover, it was reminiscent of the classics you had seen in your grandmothers closet as a kid. She sees you and places the book down to the side hurriedly as if she was ashamed of what she was reading,

“I-uh-ahem” She stuttered,

You smile politely “Reading anything good?”

She laughs, “Yeah, this one’s real saucy too. Thought I might get lost in it for a while.”

You felt bad for interrupting her, “Well don’t let me stop you, I’m just heading over to my room for some rest before dinner.”

she replies, “Oh, shoot that reminds me, best get dinner started now.” Luda Mae gets up with a groan and starts walking towards the kitchen.

“Time really does fly by when you find a good book.” She laughs as she passes.

You go to your room and get yourself changed and freshened up before dinner, you didn’t want to be around everyone while having the sweat of farmwork still lingering. You put on a comfortable pair of black tights and a white tank top which matched the white walking shoes you slipped on your feet.

When dinner was ready, you left your room to meet with the Hewitts at the dining table. The scent of roast chicken and baked corn wafted into the room, you were starving from having worked all day. Charlie was already sitting at the table when you arrived, he looked at you and said,

“Didja see the progress on the house?”

You take a seat, “Yeah, it’s coming along really fast, I’m surprised.”

He laughs “Don’t be, that crew probably knows this area ain’t so safe for ‘em. They’re smart, gonna get their paycheck and fuck off.”

You furl your eyebrows, “Why isn’t it safe for them?”

“Ah- Uh...” Charlie stopped himself when he caught a glare from Luda Mae from the kitchen,

“Well, what if they were to get hurt hm? Ain’t no hospital nearby or nothin’” he looked pleased with his answer.

You reply, “That’s a good point I guess.”

You know there is something more to what he said, but you didn’t want to push him. Luda Mae brought in the food, placing it all on the table followed by a big jug of ice-water, she groaned as she sat down; Tommy however, was missing tonight and you were worried,

You ask, “Where is Tommy? Is he not eating?”

Charlie laughs “That boy not eat? Maybe when hell freezes over after pigs fly n’ the fat lady sings.”

A devilish grin forms on his face before he turns to Luda Mae and says,

“Hey Luda, get the ball rollin’ n’ start singin’, then when the pigs grow wings Satan’s ass’ll turn to ice and the boy won’t be eatin’ us outta house n’ home no more.”

Luda Mae just rolls her eyes, she turns to you and says,

“Don’t worry hun, Charlie brought somethin’ to him so he don’t starve out there.”

You push for more info, “He’s been so busy lately; I feel like I never get to see him anymore. Where is he anyway?”

Charlie grabs a chicken leg and bites into it, he starts speaking with his mouth full,

“He’d shred us in half if we toldja. He’s been workin’ real hard though, wants to show you what all he’s been doin’ tonight”

Charlie swallows his food and continues, “He’s got a big ole’ hard on for you girlie, you better not be trailin’ him along fer nothin’, or he might lose it.”

Luda Mae whips her dishcloth at Charlie, who just smiles and winks at you. Luda Mae looks at you and says,

“Hope you get used to this foul-mouthed pig here, I might die from having to apologize on his behalf all darn day.”

She shakes her head at him and follows, “Thomas wants to meet up with you after you’re done eatin’. He wants to show you what he’s been workin’ on.”

Charlie pipes in, “Yeah, I bet he wants to show you somethin’. Probably whip out the fuckin’ anaconda he’s hidin’ down there. For an ugly motherfucker he sure was blessed. God is a real shit heel for that one.”

You squint your eyes at him, and he continues,

“He used to bathe outside when he was a youngin’ but once he grew up a bit the bulls started feelin’ emasculated.” Charlie starts laughing hysterically.

Luda Mae hides her face in her hands, she yells out,

“Why’r you talkin’ bout my boy’s privates like that!? You tryin’ to make us all upset?”

Charlie is now red in the face from laughing, he gets a sick pleasure in making people uncomfortable, but if anything, it just made you unbearably curious. You caught a glimpse of his erection when you watched Tommy run from you at the pond, it was greatly obscured but from what you could see, it was huge; You were able to feel the size and firmness of it in the laundry room, which factualized Charlies words.

He looked over at you, his eyes were watery from laughing so hard, he says,

“I’m sorry honey buns, but you need to be warned before you let him stick that goddamn two by four in ya.” He continues to laugh while he shovels corn into his mouth. You were still not used to his outlandish way of conversation and it made you blush.

The rest of dinner was mostly just Luda Mae trying to keep the subject matter light and Charlie giggling to himself. Once you cleared the table and packed away the leftovers, Luda Mae guides you to the door and says,

“Go wait for him by the silo, he’ll take you to his surprise. I hope you like it dear.”

The sun was now deep on the horizon which was losing its rosy hue, twinkling planets were already visible and the moon was following the dark part of the sky. You see Thomas leaning against the silo, he had one hand in his pocket and the other was fiddling with some wheat from the field to check the progress of the crop. He was wearing a very loosely fit tank top that looked old and worn, his pants were a pale blue jean with dirt and other stains scattered all over, he was still wearing his working boots which means he must have completed this surprise only today.

He looks up from what he was doing, when he sees you, he stood up straight, dropping the wheat to the ground. You could tell he was smiling, his deep blue eyes squishing upward gave it away, this made you smile wide as you felt knots form in your stomach. You felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever, time away really does make the heart grow fonder, it was agony not being able to spend time with him. He extended his hand to you and when you placed your hand in his and realized how small you really were compared to him, you felt like you could only hold onto two of his fingers while he could easily cover more than just your hand with his.

He looked at you and carefully pulled you toward the forest,

“Where are we going? It’s dark in there, sort of scary, isn’t it?” You were hesitant to be going into a dark forest as the sun was rapidly losing its light, he looked at you and tilted his head to the side,

“I’m here” he said calmly.

His voice was so deep and reassuring. You rarely ever hear him speak, so it felt like you won the lottery whenever he did utter out anything. He was walking slowly, he made sure to accommodate the vast difference in gait you both had by staying behind you, he guided you by gently moving you in the right direction with his hand on your shoulder. Even though you were nervous about the darkness of the forest, you felt safe with Tommy close to you. He was so large and unbelievably strong that there was no way harm could come to you.

Suddenly, Tommy stopped and turned you around to face him, he took your hands and covered your eyes with them, you couldn’t help but smile. He put his hand on the middle of your back to guide you further in, you trusted that he would ensure you don’t trip and fall. The ground went from dirt and crunching leaves, to soft grass, then a hard flat surface. Each step you took made a hollow wooden noise as if you were at a harbor. Tommy stopped you and moved your hands from your eyes. You looked around and gasped, you were on a dock that sat on top of the pond.

The moon was already shining a bright light on the water making it look like glass, the stars that now shone in the night sky were reflecting off the surface and turned the pond into what looked like a portal into space. The gentle croaking of frogs created a peaceful ambience, and as you walked further onto the dock you saw some wooden chairs to relax on, one was much larger than the other.

“Did you make all this?” your voice was exasperated with awe.

Tommy nodded again and pointed at you,

You smiled “You made this for me?”

He nodded again and went to sit on the largest chair, he tapped his hand on the other chair to get you to sit with him. You sat down and the deep seat forced you to recline which was relaxing.

“I’ve never had anyone do something like this for me. Thank you, Tommy, you’re such a thoughtful man.”

Tommy looked at you and nodded slowly, he made an approving ‘hmph’ noise, he felt good about pleasing you. The heat tonight was thick, it made your skin sticky with sweat, and you could see a slick shine on Tommy’s arms and chest. You get up from the chair to put your hand in the water, testing its temperature, small fish reveal themselves as they flash in the moonlight. You stand up and remove your shoes, Tommy stands up nervously and you giggle,

“Don’t worry, I won’t take off my shirt or underwear. It’s too hot to just sit down when we have the most immaculate natural pool right under our feet.”

You slowly take off your tights and fold them neatly on top of your shoes, the black thong you had underneath did nothing to conceal your feminine shape; Tommy turns away from you, staring off into the sky in an attempt to avoid gawking at you. It was amusing to you since he already saw most of your body the first time you were in the pond. You slowly lower yourself into the cool water of the pond, its cooling temperature feels like heaven.

Tommy heard you get in and slowly turns around to see you on your back, floating gently with the moon’s reflection circling your body, you looked like a goddess. You saw that he was just standing there watching you, you swim up to the dock and put your arms on the edge, you say,

“You know, you don’t have to just watch me.”

Seeing him act so shy was strange, a polar opposite of the last time you were both in the laundry room where he made no qualms of pushing himself up against your clothed pussy with his dick begging for entry. You watched as he took off his clothes, throwing them sloppily next to your neatly folded pile. You were annoyed that he was wearing black boxers which concealed the shape and size of his package too well, but being able to see his body almost completely unclothed was still enough to have you biting your lip in excitement.

Tommy had very long legs which were complemented by his thick thighs, his butt was muscular from having to haul his hefty body weight all over the farm. His torso was exactly as you pictured it, he had heavy muscle underneath a layer of fat that softened any sharp edges and did nothing but add mass to his already impressive size. His pecs were large and heaved with every breath he took, a smattering of soft hair covered the base of his chest and ran down his abdomen leading towards his groin, getting less sparse the lower it went.

Seeing him so exposed was odd, most people would look vulnerable, but he only looked more intimidating and fearsome especially since his arm muscles were well defined despite his soft torso. His size was not a mirage from thick clothes or padded jackets like most men you encountered, he really was authentically a behemoth of a man.

He lowered himself into the pond and let out a sigh of relaxation when he submerged his torso under the surface. You smile, and swim over to him,

“You deserve to relax after working so hard. I hope we could make this a frequent thing, something we could do together.”

You waited for a response, he looked at you and then up to the sky, he let out a positive ‘hm’ and nodded. You felt like you were in a dream, nothing you experienced was ever this beautiful, and no man was ever as generous as Tommy, you wanted to live in this moment forever. Tommy stands up in the water, he turns to you and grabs your hand to pull you to another part of the pond,

“C’mere” he says.

He pushes past some thick reeds and you end up in a tiny alcove where the water comes up to your chin and tall grasses circle you both which made the area very intimate. Tommy sees you struggling to keep your head out of water, he bends over you and grabs the smallest area on your waist under your ribs with both hands and he lifts you out of the water effortlessly. You let out a short-excited scream as he pulls you up and holds you close to his body. You’re barely able to straddle him, your chest was now just under his chin, your tank top clung to your breasts exposing your now hardened nipples. You placed both arms over his shoulders to prevent yourself from smothering his face with your bosom. He was so strong that you were able to sit comfortably on just the one arm, he looks out towards the grass and says,

“Watch”

Tommy used his free hand to splash water across the grass around you and it erupted with whirring, a horde of fireflies sprung out from their hiding places and lit up the night. You were stunned,

“I’ve never seen fireflies before, this is… this is magical.”

Tommy laughs and slowly turns to let you take in the full effect of the display before you, the glow of the fireflies created a warm soft light that was bright enough to let you see his eyes clearly, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked up at you, his eyes half lidded and glossy, he drank in every inch of the enchanting sight before him. When he looked into your eyes it was like projecting his soul into your mind, you could feel his emotions and you felt a deep comfort from it, like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.

You reach up and move his hair away from his face, he took your hand and held it to his cheek as he pressed his face into your touch, his eyes closing and letting out a deep breath. You smile at him and decide to be brave; you begin to slowly remove his mask but he abruptly stops your action with his hand, you could see his expression was full of worry, you say,

“If I keep my eyes closed will you let me take off your mask? I promise not to open them.”

Tommy looks off to the side thinking, he wasn’t scared of anything except losing you and he was worried that if you saw his full face, it would disturb you. He wondered what you were going to do, but the fear was stopping him from finding out. You see him deep in thought and speak again,

“Look” you close your eyes tightly, “I can’t see a thing, I promise I won’t peek.”

Tommy trusted you, and despite the anxiety running through his system, he removed his mask and let it hang down on one ear. He took your hand and guided it up to the left side of his face, which had no significant damage compared to the other side. You feel his stubble and softly move your hand down to his lips, they were smooth and parted slightly. You smile when your fingers reached his mouth, despite not being able to see his face, from what you were able to feel, you knew he was handsome. You slowly lower your head down and pause, hovering your lips over his and testing to see what he would allow. He didn’t resist.

You pressed your lips onto his and immediately felt a jolt of hormonal chemicals race through you like an electric shock, he let out a muffled sound of surprise. He pressed back and slowly lowered your body so he could kiss you on a more equal level. You extended the kiss by opening your mouth slightly, parting his lips only to press in on them again passionately, Tommy reciprocated the motion and was now breathing heavily through his nose, you could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest as he groaned with arousal, it was so deep that it vibrated into your chest further exciting you.

You could feel some strange deformation on one side of his face, your lips didn’t quite connect with his fully on his right side. You stayed closer to his left side since it felt a little bit more intact, you wished you could see how unique his face was. Imagining the damage done to him at such a young age was upsetting, it only emboldened your feelings for him.

The kiss was long and passionate, you both couldn’t get enough of each other, it felt like a sin to stop. Every time you pulled back from his lips, he leaned into you to catch them again parting and closing your mouths to enhance the connection you both so desperately craved. You could smell the air from his nose washing over you, it was strangely intoxicating almost like it was fresh mountain air which aroused you further. His free arm was now trailing up your spine until his hand found a resting place on the back of your neck.

You wanted more of him; your emotions were getting so intense that you moaned each time the pressure of the kiss increased. You placed your left hand on his shoulder, and your right on his collarbone. You ran your fingers over the thick muscle tensing on his neck, his carotid artery was pulsating with his heart beat, you continued feeling upwards and reached his jawline where his thick stubble prickled your fingertips. His features were so far above a stereotypically masculine ideal, it made you feel a cautious excitement, as if you encountered the final product of evolutionary success aimed to create a monster of man.

You finally pull away, making sure to keep your eyes closed. You are breathing heavily, letting out a soft moan as you lean your head back to get more air. Tommy covers his face back with the mask and gazes at you still drunk off the kiss and feeling lighter than air. The fireflies have now dispersed to the point where it was very dim around you both. He carries you back to the shallow area of the pond so you could stand up.

You smile, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Tommy nods and smiles under his mask. You wade in the water around him as he sits in the water so his torso is once again submerged, his head leaned back and eyes closed. You look around at the leftover fireflies lazily floating over top the glassy pond surface, the water gently laps at your hips.

A feeling of unease creeps into your body and raises the hairs on the back of your neck, you stop moving and a sudden wave of anxiety rushed over you. In this moment you freeze and quiet your breathing, you felt an instinct to try to listen to the world around you very carefully but you couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. The feeling of something being…off was now overwhelming and setting you on edge. You quietly move closer to Tommy to create a sort of protective border from the surroundings and hold onto his arm, he opens his eyes and looks at you with concern.

“Somethings wrong” you say in a hushed tone.

Tommy immediately got up from his sitting position and stood alert, he closed his arms around you and searched with his eyes to see what spooked you;

He breathed out slowly and moved you back towards the dock. You were confused and frightened, a tense gut feeling was like an ancient ancestral alarm which you knew should never be ignored. He helped you up on the dock and followed behind after you walked toward your clothes. You quickly put on your tights and shoes and as Tommy got his clothes on you looked around, trying to find the source for this sudden dread. You slowly panned across the forest, until you see it.

In the distance, and shrouded in the shadows of night, a silhouette of a person stood still. It was too dark to make out any features and just as you saw them, they disappeared into the bush as if they were nothing but a hallucination. You get closer to Tommy who just finished pulling his shirt down over his body, you press your back into him to feel a sense of security. Tommy looks at you and bends his upper body over you as he looks around,

“Where” he says firmly,

You point to where the shadow was and whisper, “There was someone there, watching us.”

He didn’t need to see what you saw in order to know that the energy outside had shifted, all he wanted to do was get you to safety. He lifted you up into his arms and held you tightly, he took one look around to ensure the exit was safe and bolted; His movements were agile and fast, it almost felt supernatural. The trees whip past and you quickly lose sight of the pond, his footsteps reverberating thuds as he moves through the woods with expert agility. Your eyes are wide with fear as you watch the forest behind you darken the further away you get; How Tommy was able to see things in the dark was a mystery to you.

Finally, you are out of the wooded area and coming up to where the silo was, the feeling of dread dissipates and Tommy slows his pace down, he wasn’t even huffing and puffing like most people would be doing after running so fast with a grown adult in their arms.

You hug him tightly, “Thank you for carrying me.”

You give him a kiss on his neck and continue to tighten your grip. Tommy brings you into the house and shuts the door behind you both, he gently lowers you to the floor, you keep hugging him as you stand on your tip toes. He felt very protective of you and was mad that someone scared you so much. His rage was building the more he thought about someone being on his property watching the two of you. He wondered how they would have been able to evade the multiple traps he set up around the pond perimeter.

Tommy grabs your shoulders and pushes you back slowly, he lifts your chin to have you look up at him. He sees the worried look on your face and it fuels his rage of the intruder,

“Go sleep, I gotta do somethin’.”

His voice was rich in baritone, you could hear anger in his words. You didn’t want him to leave, but before you could tell him to stay, he was out the door. You made your way to the washroom to shower off the pond water and get ready for sleep, Luda Mae and Charlie were already asleep upstairs, unaware of the situation. You were disturbed by what you saw, but as long as Tommy was out there, you felt safe in the house. You went to bed that night worried, who was that shadow and what will happen if Tommy catches them? The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Next chapter-

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher thirst #slasher fandom

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scarisd3ad · 2 months

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To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x reader

Chapter twenty six | I love you, I’m sorry

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Warnings - ANGST! Guns, and shooting, Death, mentions of sex, cursing, usual twd warnings

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

(A/N) - it’s finally here! Yay I’ve been working on this chapter since may and I’m so happy I’ve finally finished it. I know progress with my fics have been moving a little slower that they usually do but I’m hoping fingers crossed 🤞that I am able to speed the process up a little in the coming months 🫶🏻 also finally introducing the governor as the readers father in this chapter, I kind of hinted at it last chapter, to play around with the idea of it being canon. And I really like the ideas and situations I’ve came up in my head to put them in.

‘The suicide king’

S3 ep 9

Daryl is unbagged and pushed forward towards the middle of the arena. Merle and Daryl stand frozen, their eyes scanning the crowd in utter disbelief. The deafening sound of boos and heckles echoes throughout the arena, drowning out any other noise. Daryl's chest is heaving, faster and faster with each shout made from the audience of people. A blonde woman is attempting to force her way through a group of people, most likely the Governor's personal bodyguards, to get closer to him.

She manages to get through the first set before a surprise second set grabs her up before she can even get to his side. The governor - or maybe I should just start calling him Philip - because I finally know who the man behind the oh-so-mysterious name 'the governor' is. It's funny, I've been looking for this man for the last, what? 20 years of my life and I'm able to find him not even a year into the apocalypse so easily. How could he avoid his kids for 20 years in the old world, but he couldn't even last a year without me finding him now?

I really want to know how my father, Philip Blake, ended up being some dictator for a survivor's refugee camp. I almost want to laugh at how 'badass' he looks right now. makeshift eyepatch over one eye, as he looked over all his people so proud to be an asshole. My father was never much of a threat, but god he tried to be, though he really tried. I didn't hear much about my dad growing up, my maternal grandpa always muttered about how he was "such an asshole of a man", but the one thing I did hear from my paternal grandmother was that he ended up skipping town got some stupid office job and started a new family. it was all some bullshit about needing to start over, without my 'slut of a mother'.

His arm raises, so it's pointing towards Merle. The people of Woodbury immediately quiet down as their leader begins to speak. "I asked where your loyalties lie. You said here." Daryl was finally let out of whatever shackles that were placed around his arms, letting them fall to his sides freely. "Well, prove it. Prove it to us all." My blood runs cold.

"Brother against brother," he says with a dry chuckle. The crowd copies their leader, letting out a small chuckle that's paired with a quiet "yeah."

"Winner goes free" the crowd cheers at that, probably hoping and praying that Merle is able to win. Even though Merle was now deemed possibly 'unloyal' in the governor's eyes, it was still the better option for them. If Daryl died, Merle would have absolutely no reason to want to help us. Merle would go back to being Philip's loyal righthand man, and we, the 'terrorists' would be dead. Glenn had already told them our location and they would be marching up to our door with pitchforks in no time. Philip walks towards Merle shouting "Fight to the death!" as he does so. The crowd cheers once again. This was a scene taken straight out of one of those shitty medieval times shows.

The blonde woman finally turns, revealing her whole face to me. Andrea, the woman I thought I had accidentally left for dead, was here? Of all places, how did she end up here? Well, she had already shown us she didn't care about being led by an asshole, and if she was as close with Philip as she seems, she should already know how much of an asshole he was. "Philip, please. Don't do this," Andrea pleads, as one of Philips's men holds her back. "Don't do this!" He doesn't even glance at her, choosing instead to keep his eye on his prey. He glares at the two men standing in front of him, a smirk on his face that shows he truly enjoys this. The torture. He doesn't even have to do it himself, he just has to sit back and watch.

Merle raises his hand in the air before shouting "Y'all know me!" the crowd cheers, and I can see the absolute look of betrayal on Daryl's face. "I'm gonna do whatever I got to do to prove..." He hesitates for a moment before swinging his arm back and delivering a forceful punch to Daryl's stomach. With a loud grunt, Daryl collapses to the ground, and the crowd erupts in excitement. I stand frozen, unable to believe what I'm witnessing. how could he do that? Do that to his brother? "Holy shit," Jack gasps as Daryl begins to push himself up off of the ground. "That's my loyalty to this town!" just as Daryl has gotten his head off of the ground, Merle kicks him, sending him right back onto the ground.

Daryl lies motionless on his back, his chest heaving up and down with a faint rhythm. My eyes are fixed on him, hesitant to glance away, as if by doing so I might miss the final moments of his life. Merle continues throwing blow after blow as Philip watches on the sidelines with a sick look on his face. The crowd cheers as they lead out a walker. It's practically on a leash as some man, probably another one of Philips's men, leads him toward Daryl and Merle.

Finally, Daryl throws a punch. It's towards Merle's ankles but it gets him somewhere. It gets Daryl back onto his feet. Daryl launches himself toward Merle, tackling him, or at least trying to, but Merle has a leg up in this competition. merle gets Daryl down to the ground first. Both men have their hands around each other's necks as three of Philips's men lead three walkers towards them.

I don't even know what to do to help Daryl out. I could cause some type of distraction. If something more dangerous happens, it could give Daryl the freedom to escape. My eyes fall to my bag. I open it up and grab my gun right as Daryl and Merle get back to their feet. The two are working together to defeat the walkers.

My ammunition is running dangerously low, but my determination to save Daryl is unwavering. I'm willing to take the risk and use my last bullet to help him escape. My breaths come in quick and shallow as I raise my gun, my hands trembling with apprehension. I take aim at a man standing near Philip. I let out one more shaky breath before pressing the trigger and letting the bullet fly out of the gun and toward the man. Luckily for me, my aim was amazing today. The bullet tears right through his skull. Everyone around him screams as he falls to the ground with a thud.

Suddenly, someone behind Jack and I start shooting rounds into the arena, which makes even more of a ruckus. As I turned around to glance behind me, my eyes fell on Maggie, who was casually leaning against the top of the cold metal dumpster that was situated behind us. She shoots round after round into the arena. I let out a sigh of relief and began running back towards her. rick throws one of his smoke bombs, and Maggie continues to shoot. All I can hear is the sound of the automatic rifle and screams. Everyone's scattering like flies. Rick looks up at me, his mouth is open as if he's about to ask me something before his eyes flick to Jack who's stood behind me. "Who's that?"

"Old friend... he helped me," I reply. Rick continues to stare at Jack, scrutinizing him from head to toe as if he's trying to find a reason not to like him. I already know what he's going to ask. "Is he one of the governor's men?" I quickly respond, "He was just a resident and didn't know anything about what was going on, right Jack?" Jack nods, muttering a quiet "mhm."

Daryl and Merle sprint towards us while Rick urges, "Daryl, let's go!" Without wasting any time, we all take off at full speed, our hearts pounding with fear of being spotted by Philip or his men. The only sound that can be heard is our pounding footsteps on the ground as we race towards safety.

We manage to escape the arena and run back into the main town area. We were cautious as we walked around, hoping everyone was in the arena, but there was no actual way to know, so we were as careful as we could.

"they're all at the arena, this way!!" Merle instructs, attempting to lead us toward an exit. Rick was quick to shoot down the idea of Merle going with us. "you're not going anywhere with us!" he growls. "You really want to do this now?!" Merle asks as he runs towards the fence, attempting to pry apart the metal, as Rick and Daryl stand guard. I pray to God Rick won't say anything about Jack going with us. I don't want him to stay here, knowing the possible doomed future of Woodbury.

Finally, Merle manages to pull apart the metal, leaving a nicely sized hole in its wake. We all slipped through without a problem, but we're only met with walkers on the opposite side. "A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE!" Merle shouts as he beats a walker to death with his prosthetic arm. Daryl was quick to pitch in, shooting a walker with his bow. I pull my gun out, shooting off my last bullet into a walker's head, "We ain't got time for this!" before beginning to sprint off.

I stand motionless next to Jack, anticipation building as we await instructions from Rick. "let's go!" Daryl shouts once it's been more than a few seconds, Rick, Maggie, and I not moving. I'm glad Daryl hasn't asked about Jack yet. Maybe it's just because he's too busy to realize. But I hope he never mentions it. I'm scared he'll get mad, or jealous. He's just a friend now, hell we were tiptoeing around a breakup when the outbreak started. But I don't know how Daryl is with exes. I know he can get jealous; he has many times before. Normally, I can predict what he'll do in certain situations, but with Jack, I just don't know how Daryl will react. rick folds, deciding to follow after Merle rather than die.

The walk back to the car is long. My hands are in my pockets as I trail behind a bit, with everyone else at least a few feet ahead of me. I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I can't help but overhear Merle and Daryl's conversation. "sooo, wha's up with you'n tha' bitch?" Merle asks, his head tilting back, so it points towards me. My heart stops, wondering what Daryl would say. Would he refer to me as his girlfriend? Even though we already had discussed what our relationship was, and I was confident in my role as Daryl's girlfriend, I was scared that he'd be embarrassed to admit that we were in a relationship with his older brother.

Daryl's quiet for a few seconds, giving his brother enough time to throw in another comment. "You to fuckin' around or something?" Daryl chuckles left hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Um...I guess me'n her are together," he says with a shrug. Merle almost immediately bursts out in a booming fit of laughter, which makes Rick turn around and glare. I don't understand what's so funny. Was it so farfetched that Daryl and I were dating? I can see the back of Daryl's ears turn a bright red as his hands nervously play with the hem of his shirt. "yer datin' her! ain't she fuckin' that Chinese boy?" I almost scoff at Merle's assumption. I can almost hear Daryl's eyes roll as he says, "Nah... they're just friends."

"ya sure? I remem-" Daryl's quick to shut Merle down once again "I'm sure"

It's about 20 minutes later when we end up back at the other side of the large acre of woods where we parked the car. As we approach the car, Rick whisper yells out Glenn's name, which makes both Glenn and Michonne get up and run to us. "Oh, thank god," Glenn sighs out as he approaches us. Rick was quick to squash the inkling of relief that Glenn had by revealing our newfound problems. "Now we got a problem here. I need you to back up." the moment Merle's face comes into Glenn's sigh, his face instantly contorted into anger "What the hell is he doing here!" Michonne pulls out her Katana in an effort to protect herself, and Daryl, he's quick to begin yelling in an effort to protect his older brother. There is a gun pointed at almost everyone in the group. "are you guys always like this?" Jack mutters quietly, "Always," I reply with an eye roll.

Everyone is yelling over each other; I can barely understand one word that's coming out of anyone's mouth. "Yeah, right after he beat the shit out of you," Rick scoffs, while I cross my arms over my chest, feeling absolute annoyance simmering inside me. "Hey, we both took our licks, man," Merle chuckles as his back presses against the tree behind him. "Jackass" Daryl scoffs with an eye roll. merle pushes himself off the tree. "Hey shut up!" Merle shouts back at his brother, his voice filled with pure annoyance. The brotherly squabble is quickly shut down by Rick with a loud "Enough!" but that just turns into another fight. "Hey! hey! Relax! Put that down!" Rick shouts at Michonne, who's got her Katana pointed at him. "Get that thing out of my face!" Daryl shouts, swatting at Glenn's gun.

Merle laughs. "Man, look like you've gone native, brother." Daryl turns around, his anger now fully directed at his brother. "NO more than you hangin' out with that psycho back there." Merle just has a smirk on his face, mainly just to piss Daryl off even more. "oh, yeah, man. He is a charmer, I got to tell you that. been puttin' the wood to your girlfriend Andrea big time, baby." Merle said eye's making direct contact with Michonne. my eyebrows furrow with confusion, not because of Andrea fucking my father, that was predictable, Andrea liked a man with power, but I'm confused because Andrea and Michonne had known each other. Glenn's just as confused brows furrowed as he asks "What? Andreas in Woodbury?"

"Right next to the governor," Daryl replies. Michonne takes a few steps forward, pointing her Katana in front of her once again, with the intention of hurting someone. "I told you to drop that!" Rick shouts, lunging forward, making Michonne lower it once again. Michonne has a blank expression on her face as Rick asks, "You know Andrea?" her eyes don't make contact with Rick, instead settling for somewhere right behind him.

Rick doesn't take her silence for an answer, so he gets closer, and his voice drops to a low, sinister whisper, "Hey, do you know Andrea?" he asks once again. She doesn't answer, letting Merle answer for her. "Yep, she does," he says, a smirk displayed on his lips. "Her and blondie spent all winter cuddlin' up in the forest. Mm-mmm-mmm." Rick has a look of betrayal on his face as Merle continues to reveal more and more of Michonne's secrets. "Yeah. My Nubian queen here had two pet walkers. No arms, cut off the jaws, kept them in chains."

What. The. fuck? two pet walkers! "kinda ironic now that I think about it." Daryl is done with Merle's mouth. Daryl quickly spins around shouting "Shut up, bro!" Merle laughs, obviously finding Daryl's anger hilarious "Hey, man, we snagged them out of the woods. Andrea was close to dyin'."

"Is that why she's with him?"

Merle nods. "Yeah. Snug as two little bugs. So, what ya gonna do now, sheriff, huh? Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards." Merle says, just poking and prodding at Rick, trying to get a reaction out of him. And a reaction is what he got; Rick turns his head, commanding Merle to "shut up!" Merle, being Merle, doesn't comply and continues his antics. Merle chuckles. "Oh, man, look at this. Pathetic!" he shakes his head in faux shame. "All these guns and no bullets in them."

Merles once again got on his brother's last nerve. "Merle! shut up!" Daryl growls, leaning forward a bit, trying to intimidate his older brother. Merle doesn't take that and begins to shout, "Shut up yourself! Bunch of pussies you roll-" Merle isn't even able to finish his last sentence before Rick quickly strikes him in the back of the head with his gun, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious with a thud. "Asshole."

We're all gathered around in the middle of the road, leaving Jack sat on the side of the road, feeling he had no place in the conversation, and Merle still in the woods. Daryl's trying to propose that Merle comes with us, but Rick's not so sure, feeling it will just cause trouble. "It won't work," Rick sighs. Daryl still tries his best to convince Rick, though "it's gotta" I'm not on either side. I know Merle is nothing but trouble. I've known that since the moment I met him. But I also know that Daryl has beaten himself up over losing his brother for the past year. I know having his brother with our group again would make him happy. I want Daryl to be happy, I really do, but Merle has already caused so much trouble for our group. Hell, he kidnapped and almost killed Glenn and Maggie.

"it'll stir things up," Rick argues. I know he's right. Having Glenn and Merle under the same roof probably won't end up well. Glenn was already so pissed off; it wouldn't be right to make Glenn and Maggie feel more unsafe than they already did. "Look, the governor is probably on the way to the prison right now. merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle," Merle did already know a bunch about Phillip, but who says he's even gonna help up, all he did back at the quarry was fuck around and start unnecessary fights with Shane.

"I'm not havin' him at the prison,"

"Do you really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol, Beth, or hell, Casey?" Glenn asks. thinking about it, I don't want Merle Dixon anywhere near Casey. I know Merle is Daryl's brother and all, but he should really think about this. I was barely comfortable being within 5 feet of Merle myself let alone my 5-year-old. he has to start thinking about the bigger picture, he has to start thinking about how this could affect Casey, Carl, and the baby. Daryl grunts before muttering, "he ain't a rapist." He wasn't a rapist, but he sure did make me more than uncomfortable on multiple occasions. Look at him, the way he talked, the men he hung out with; would he really want that kind of person around the children?

"Well, his buddy is." Daryl was still trying to plead Merle's case. "They ain't buddies no more. Not after last night," I sigh, arms crossing over my chest "C'mon D you know how Merle is, do you really want that around case?" he huffs, trying not to make eye contact as a look of betrayal spreads across his face.

"There's no way Merles gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats," Rick says. I know Rick doesn't want to piss Daryl off, but he also wants everyone in our group to feel safe. "So, yer gonna cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?" Rick shakes his head, saying "She's not coming back. "

"she's not in a state to be on her own" Maggie argues. Maggie and Glenn continue to try and plead Michonne's case. "She did bring you guys to us" Glenn whispers, in a way he's right. Michonne had helped us, but she's already practically gone rogue pointing that damn katana at people. we just don't know what she's capable of yet. "And then ditched us" rick argues, head turning towards Glenn. "at least let my dad stitch her up" Maggie begs, we can't just leave her out for dead, we should at least let Hershel check her out, so she's has the best chance of survival out there, it just the right thing to do. "She's too unpredictable." She's a loose cannon, that's for sure. On one hand, she has proven herself to be beneficial to our group, but on the other hand, she has also shown us that she could be harmful to our group. She's helping us, but also going missing for a long period of time and pointing her damn Katana at us like we're the bad guys.

We're staring at Michonne. She is leaning against the side-view mirror, staring back at us, almost as if she knows we're talking about her. Scratch that, she probably does know because Rick is not trying to whisper at all. He wants her to know she's unwanted, hoping she'll take a hint and scurry off before Rick can boot her out. Daryl nods agreeing with Rick, "That's right, we don't know who she is" he mutters, but he's only agreeing with Rick right now to try to slip in a word about Merle staying with us.

"But merle, merles blood." Daryl says almost acting like we're all some big family. Deep down, I have a feeling he'd run if Merle asked him. We're not blood, I'm not his wife, Casey's not his daughter. I'm his girlfriend, barely even that sometimes, and Casey, she's a little girl who has accidentally grown too attached. The 'D' around my neck means nothing if Merle is asking for something, and I know that. I wouldn't expect him to choose me over his brother, and I know he wouldn't expect me to pick him over mine, even if it would be a difficult decision for me.

Glenn shakes his head in disgust. "No, merles your blood, my blood, my family is standing right here, and waiting for us back at the prison." We had no ties to Merle, no need to keep him. The only one who did was Daryl. we all know the line we're tittering on, we all know the thoughts and decisions racing through his mind. We all know he's thinking about leaving and going with Merle. that's why my eyes are burning into his with a stare begging him not to. Begging him not to make me go back without him, begging him not to make me explain why he didn't come back. "And you're part of that family, but he's not. He's not"

I can see the anger boiling in his chest, the words he's trying to fight back. "Man, ya'll don't know" We all stare at him waiting for him to say it because we know he is "Fine. we'll fend for ourselves." he finally says it, which almost sends me over the edge. I just want to scream at him. How could he just leave, leave after promising he'd come back? "that's not what I was saying," Glenn says, trying to make Daryl think about his decision. "no, him, no me." It's as simple as that. He didn't think about Casey, Carol, Beth, or hell fucking me. "Daryl, you don't have to do that"

"It was always merle an' I before this" Then he makes eye contact with me, and he sees it, the tears pooling in my eyes that I desperately try to blink back, the begging the pleading, but he doesn't care. "So, you're just gonna leave?" I ask finally breaking my silence. His eyes meet mine. "you'd do the same thing," he mutters. My brother, he wasn't like Merle. He wouldn't be booted out of the group because my brother was a good man. "What do you want me to tell Casey? you promised her you'd come back." he shrugs, almost like he doesn't care. "y/n ya gotta understand this is my brother, my blood. You'd do the same if you found yer's. I know ya would"

"My brother's dead," I say, my voice comes out bitter and harsh. Because how could he bring up my brother, who's dead? Who died trying to help me? How could he compare his racist, misogynistic, absolute scumbag brother to mine? "Then ya should understand. "my arms cross over my chest, and my face twists into a disgusted expression. I can't believe he'd just leave us like that. After everything we've been through. He said he loved me. I thought he thought more of me. I thought this was it. I thought he was going to be my husband.

Daryl starts walking, pushing past Maggie and me, muttering, "Say goodbye to yer pops for me." I spin around on my heels, facing him now rather than Glenn and Rick. I'm practically chasing after him shouting "You're seriously leaving?! After everything we've been through?!" he ignores me and just continues to walk until he gets to the trunk of the car. He opens it and begins to gather his items.

"So, this is it?" I whisper, my hands shoved in my pockets, "guess so" he mutters, my heart drops and tears begin to pool in my eyes once again. "Seriously? What about Casey?" he shrugs, not answering because he knows whatever he's going to say is just going to piss me off. "What about me D? What about us?" a tear falls down my cheek, and my hand reaches up to wipe it away. "you'll get over it," he mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. That hurt me. It felt like a stab to the gut. Did he really think I just get over him like that? He shakes his head, almost as if he was trying to ignore the tears that lined my waterline. he's trying not to care.

I've watched Daryl grow so much as a person in the last year. The man I knew yesterday was a scrap of the man I had met at that quarry. But somehow, with Merle's reappearance, he went back to the Douch bag he was. He no longer cared for Casey, Beth, or Carol. He no longer cared for me. He no longer cared about us. All the late-night conversation meant nothing, the necklace meant nothing, Casey meant nothing. "I-I love you," I whisper, hoping it would change his decision. Hoping the quiet admission of love would snap him back into reality.

"Then stop..." he mutters. His words are so bitter, so calloused they slice right through my heart, breaking it into a million pieces. "ya got whoever that guy is over there, ya got Glenn. know you'll be fuckin' one of them by the end of the week," he mutters. Hot, angry tears begin to fall down my cheeks. How could he say that? Was that really all he thought of me? A slut? Did he think I was only with him for the sex? The sex that was so far in between that I can't recall the last time we had it. Did he not notice how in love I was?

I rip the necklace from my neck and throw it at him. It hits his torso before falling to the ground with a soft thud. The silver metal glimmers in the sun staring up a simple reminder of what we were, and what we could have been. "Fuck you" is the last thing I mutter before wiping my tears and turning to walk back towards the group.

The ride back to the prison is a blur. I sit in the back, middle seat, with a shell-shocked look on my face. I don't want to cry, but my body wants me to cry. There's a lump in my throat and I'm desperately trying to hold back tears. The whole ride Glenn muttering quietly to me, "I'm so sorry" "I didn't think he was really going to leave" I don't pay attention to him. I can't listen, I can't pay attention. I just want to be in my head right now. I feel the car stop and feel people leave, but I don't pay it any mind. I don't even pay any mind when I hear the shouting outside. I just want this all to be over.

I'm zoned out until I feel the car park, and everyone gets out. I get out, hands shoved in my pockets. The only thing that knocks me out of my head is the feeling of two little arms wrapping around my leg. "you're back," Casey squeaks as I bend down and pick her up. Her arms wrap around my neck and her head buries itself into my shoulder. I know the inevitable question awaits us, and I still don't know what I'm going to say. When I feel her head leave my shoulder and begin looking around, my heart begins to slam against my chest. "where's Daryl?" she asks eyes still searching, "he...Daryl left"

"Did he die?" she asks, brows furrowing up as I shake my head. I'd rather he had died. It's easier to explain to her that he died rather than he decided to leave us. "No, baby. He found his brother and decided he needed to be with his family." Her brows furrow up even farther, if that's even possible. "I thought we were his family?"

When I get back inside, I tell Casey to stay with Carl and go up and find an empty cell. This is when I finally let myself break down. Sitting on the bed with my head in my hand, I just let go. I'm full-on ugly crying, with tears streaming down my face, and snot bubbling out of my nose. I just hate him so much for leaving. Broken sobs escape my lips as I try to keep myself as quiet as possible. I don't want anyone else to know how badly this hurt me.

My chest rises and falls fast with each gasp I take. The only thought that is racing through my mind is why would he do this? How could he do this? Did he really think that I was a slut all this time, or was it Merle's comments about Glenn, and I that suddenly had changed his opinion of Glenn and I's relationship? Did he seriously think I didn't love him?

"You, okay?" a knock on the wall pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Carol. My bottom lip wobbles as I shake my head 'no'. she lets out a sigh as she nods and slowly walks towards me. She takes a seat next to me on the bottom bunk. "You want to talk?" she asks, her arm coming to wrap around my body and pull mine close to hers. I shake my head 'no' once again. I could barely think about him without a blubbering mess, let alone talk about him to someone else.

My head buries into her chest as her left hand rubs small circles into my back. "I know, I know," she mutters as broken sobs erupt from my throat. I just hate him so much for leaving with Merle, but at the same time I want him here, and I want him to hold me. I want to hear him tell me he loves me.

I sat in that cell for the rest of the night, not bothering about dinner because I had already felt sick to my stomach. The only human interaction I have is with Casey at bedtime when she cuddles up next to me in the bottom bunk. I can't bring myself to touch the stuff Daryl had left behind, because I know I'll either break it or throw it at a wall.

Casey's eyes were heavy with sleep, and yawns erupted from her every few seconds. She didn't want to sleep on the top bunk. For the past few months, she only knew what it felt like to sleep between Daryl and me. There was always a warm body next to her, no matter what. I can't bring myself to think how last night was for her. Through a yawn, she whispers, "I miss Daryl" I let out a heavy sigh. In a way I miss him, I wish he hadn't made the choice he had made, I wish he would have considered how'd those decisioned would affect us. I wish I didn't have the burden of living the rest of my life wondering if he's alright, so I guess in a way I miss him.

Casey eventually drifted off to sleep, and I quietly slipped out of bed, hoping that everyone else had retired for the night. As I tiptoed down the stairs and into the dimly lit rec room, I noticed Glenn sitting at a table in the far-left corner. He was shrouded in almost complete darkness, with only his hoodie standing out in the dim light. His head faced down; one elbow propped up on the table to hold it up. "How you holdin' up?" I ask, breaking him from his thoughts. I can see him just and let out a tiny gasp. "shit" he mutters under his breath as his head snaps up to see me.

I laugh, a small smile breaking across my face. "sorry" I whisper, walking across the room to meet him at his table. "watcha doin' up so late?" I ask, sliding into the seat beside him. "can't sleep you?" he asks. I shrug, not knowing why I was still up. I felt like I could sleep for a good week if I really tried. "So...did Jack get booted out with the rest...or..." I ask referring to the commotion I had heard earlier that day involving rick. Glenn shakes his head "Nah, didn't wanna upset you anymore than you already were," he says, tiptoeing around the subject of Daryl.

I can't help but feel bad about Glenn and Maggie. Every time I see the black and blue bruises that decorated his face, I can't help but be reminded of who caused it. I hadn't thought about him in years. The only times I was reminded of the faded remembrance of his face were in old family portraits that were in boxes up in my mom's attic.

1992 or 3 maybe, I was three years old in the picture, mom was heavily pregnant, and dad looked so young. I never realized how young both my parents were when they had me until I looked at those photos. Mom looks maybe 19, dad had to be at least 21. He's got me on his hip, we're all pushed in close, one arm around a waist, Dad's face and I's squished together. We looked so happy.

When I saw his face out in the crowd, I was 12 years old again up in the attic, sorting through boxes, finding the dusty portraits. Wondering how he could leave us. I wasn't stupid. I remembered those last few months, the last year. I remembered the drinking, the fighting, the bruises. I remembered the broken potted plants I remembered my brother's broken arm. I just couldn't believe the man who wore such a bright smile could be so evil.

How could he hurt me, hurt my brother, hurt my mom? I feel like I'm sitting in my paternal grandmother's kitchen this time, maybe 15, listening to her blab on and on about his family. His wife, his daughter. His daughter he loved so dearly, the daughter who had replaced me. 'He just loves her so much,' she said 'No one can take away a father's love for their daughter'. I hadn't thought of him since that moment. After that, I gave up on having a dad. I gave up on waiting. I finally realized he just didn't love me, and I couldn't change that.

But yesterday, seeing him again was like a punch to the gut, and finding out that he was the one who hurt my friends that made me furious. I wanted to be the one to hunt him down. I wanted to be the one to kill him. I couldn't wait to see his face when he realized who I was and what I was going to do.

"Glenn, can I tell you something? But you can't get mad" his brows furrow, a sliver of a smile displaying on his lips as his mouth opens to say something. I'm quick to cut him off, finally revealing the hardest secret I've ever had to keep. "the governor is my dad" his eyes widen, and fear sets in quickly, terrified he'll hate me. "What?" he asks, it coming out as a half laugh as he stares at me. His eyes fall up and down my body, examining every single one of my facial features, finding everyone that even slightly resembled Philips. "Are you joking?" he asks, head cocking to the side in disbelief. I shake my head slowly, and he lets out a quiet "oh my god."

"I didn't even know this governor guy was him until I saw him. You're not mad, are you?" he shakes his head, letting my anxieties settle. "No..not mad, just...shocked, yo-you...wow."

Taglist

@rivversin @soul4death @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan @jai-lovely @maziejay08 @oi-itse @rhaenryawhore @kimbunnysstuff @blipblopper @ramielll @ilyhannah @daryldixonnn @delicatebearpandaopera @daryldixmedown @duckybird101 @0-imjusthere-0 @tanuki-tsuki

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lostelfwriting · 7 months

Text

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye

#my writing #bury me with a rose #centennial husbands big bang #dreamling #hanahaki disease #angst #happy ending

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mission-light-if · 7 months

Text

Mission Light

You have everything; you finished your education with good grades, you managed to achieve your dreams and work successfully in your dream career.

You have friends, and you and your coworkers get along really well. You have a fulfilling job with new and exciting challanges every day.

Others dream to achieve what you have.

But then why does it feel like it's not enough?

Why does it feel like there has to be more out there for you somewhere?

Why do you feel so unsatisfied now that you finally can grasp your goal, your dream?

How do you deal with that? You can't just quit your job, can you?

When you figure out that your coworkers are agents and involved in some sort of conflict with the group that you are currently forced to work for, you decide to join them.

Maybe a little superpowered action is what you need.

But be careful; from being an employee to being an agent with superpowers confronted with life and death is a big jump. Are you sure you can handle that? Cope with everything that happens?

Especially when the life of a teenage boy, who apparently is the key to defeating a big bad future evil, is placed in your group's hands.

Maybe your normal career and life doesn't sound so bad after all.

———

Mission Light is an interactive story about a normal employee, who wants more out of life and awakens superpowers and then joins and group of secret agents, who travel the world and try to protect the child of light, who is their key to win against a threat waiting for them in the future.

———

Features

Customise your own character

Play as trans, male, female, non binary, gay, aroace and aromantic (only on Anekas route) and asexual separated

Romance your fellow agents (18+ optional NSFW content)

Become closer to Adam as a mentor or parental figure and help him with his identity

Travel to different countries with your group of agents

Choose to be either a lawyer, a police officer or a doctor

Experience different characters all with their own problems and stories

This story is primarily focused on your relationship with the characters and their relationships among each other

Figure out what you want out of life and where you belong

There is no good or bad, no one is truly evil, everyone has their own reasons, if their actions are justified is up for you to decide

Marry your love interest and adopt Adam (only on specific routes)

———

Mission Light is my upcoming work in progress interactive story on itch.io. The three prologue’s are almost completely planned out and have to be written and coded. The game site will change in the future the tumblr site too probably, I want to add pictures of the characters and some in game screenshots. Trigger warnings will be in front of every chapter. I hope I can upload the first prologue on the 1st of march, so if you are interested please consider following me and my game. I really hope that you will like my story ☺️

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #interactive story #agents #superpowers #found family #lgbtq #mission light #romance #friendship #action #mission light if

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coffincestuous · 7 months

Text

the progress report!! #3

happy march 1st!! kit9’s third progress report dropped today with a special bonus from nemlei!!

firat things first, we have The Entity in the thumbnail!! are they a little bigger to anyone else..? just me? anyways, the lights are a fun addition to the demon/dream world. i’m sure this has no importance whatsoever (lying)

next, we have… this. our dear protagonists caught in a compromising position, oh no!! seriously, though. what are they doing here? were they going to fuck in the car? good for them!! they don’t look very pleased to be disturbed by whoever this is, or disturbed at all. hopefully this isn’t anyone they used to know.

here, we have… the chapter two decay route vision area. you know, the one where andrew is chasing down ashley to murder her or get murdered.

yeah, that one.

it’s very interesting that we come back here. i wonder if this is still the decay route? also, why are we only seeing andrew’s little pixel sprite here? is she on one of the other sections? is this her vision or andrew’s? it seems to me that it’s ashley’s, considering we’ve been here before, but who knows!! there’s an axe and a signpost missing, and the tone of this preview reads a whole lot differently than the vision did at the end of chapter two.

i wonder what has prompted ashley to ask andrew what he wants? i wonder if he’ll be honest? i wonder if this is an important moment, or if it’s just them fucking around? god, i’m SO excited

little andy spotted!! and mrs graves. she is clearly unhappy about something, and i’m thinking it has to do with leyley. doesn’t it always, when it comes to mrs. graves? my guess is that she’s asking him to keep her out of trouble, but it’s just a guess. we’ve seen before that he only curls up in a ball like this when he’s really upset (and still does it as an adult). poor thing.

here, we see andrew with the entity in the thumbnail area, with the lights and everything. shout out to the little darkened souls in the far corners of the picture. our dear andrew is trying to negotiate with the demon.

i think that this is a huge moment in the game and the plot going forward!! assuming this is the burial route, ashley’s been asked to bring him along, AND he has that hex mark on his hand!! this demon is going to steal his soul!! ashley’s gonna be mad.

this could potentially happen in the decay route, too. if we assume the earlier dream/vision sequence is decay, this could be decay. maybe he’s going to meet the entity on his own regardless of what happens with ashley. again, who knows!!

[id: a screenshot of steam. the text reads “Next Episode. From the work completed so far, this episode will be the longest yet. Even in its unfinished state, it is roughly the length of both previous episodes combined. / Once finished, this episode will be released as a major content update, and work on the final episode will begin. / It is still too soon to give any release dates.” end id.]

before, nemlei had said episode three will be split into two separate chapters (one for each route), but maybe this has changed!! the length is… beyond my expectations, truthfully!! it’s longer than both episode one and two combined. holy shit??? that’s So Much Content. i think i will officially be losing my mind upon its release, and even more so when the game is finished. omg!!!!!!

finally, we have THIS!!!!

thank you nemlei. she knows what her fans want to see :33

(i think i need to set this as my phone background or something. it’s SO CUTE!!! i don’t even know where to start expressing my absolute JOY with this image!!!)

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #coffincest #tcoaal screencaps #devlog #coffin.txt

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blissfullyecho · 2 years

Text

my daily & weekly routine (2023)

self care | studying | health | working | etc.

figured i would write my daily routine that i’m going to adhere to for the next few months— at least until summer semester starts for me (in may) but that’s still TBA.

first, let’s start with my goals until summer semester.

get accepted back into school and pass my entrance exam

get hired to start the patient care technician program at the hospital i want to work at in march so that i can gain hospital experience and i can start working in healthcare (this is the hospital that i want to become a nurse at also)

lose 40 pounds + form a habit of daily exercise

work as much as possible (try to aim for at least 5x a week) until the patient care tech program starts (which is only a 5 week program but i’ll be unable to work those weeks) — my goal is to get caught up with some bills/debt and have $5,000 saved so i don’t have to worry about working during the patient care tech program

move into a new apartment either in downtown or on the beach

grow in my faith, self-love, and be more knowledgeable

so basically, my goals for the first part of 2023 is working on my career, going back to school, and getting my health and finances together.

i would like to start my business, but i want to first focus on getting accepted back into school and getting my career started; then starting my business.

moving on to my daily routine/ tasks, and my weekly and monthly routine

daily:

study for at least 3 hours a day for my school’s placement exam (math, reading, and writing) — an hour each day for each subject

exercise at least 30 minutes a day to start with, eventually graduating to an hour a day

until my phone interview next thursday for the patient care tech program, i’ll spend some time going over interview questions to get myself more prepared— spending at least 30-45 minutes going over that each day

daily bible reading and prayer

reading at least 1-2 chapters per day of a self-help book

listening to at least 1 podcast or educational video each day

follow my morning/evening beauty routines like skincare, showering, haircare, and eventually make it a habit to get ready every morning (this will have to wait until my grandmother gets better honestly— i don’t have the time)

adhere to a cleaning routine and clean as i go so i can spend less time cleaning and more time thriving in a well-maintained environment that’s beneficial to both my physical and mental health

weekly:

to track my weight loss progress, i will measure myself and weigh myself 1x per week (saturday)

go to work at least 5x each week or work at least 5 shifts (some days i might work doubles)

take a weekly practice test of each of those subjects (math, writing, and reading) (sunday)

attend church (in person or online) each week (sunday)

i should also mention that i lost 1.7 pounds this week.

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sweetlummie · 3 months

Text

Muñequita: Prologue

Tysm to my lovey love @iamasaddie for making this amazing moodboard for my series!!! Ilysm 💗💗

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Javier Peña x Fem! Plus size! Reader x (eventual) Steve Murphy; some Javier Peña x Steve Murphy (mentioned)

A/n: HELLO!!! I’ve been sitting on this series since March 😭 I hope you all enjoy! I’m still working on it!! Expect part 1 to come out soon!! ALSO some sentences are in Spanish but I provided translations on the side!! As always feel free to leave constructive criticism. Likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated 🫶🫶🫶💗

Warnings: semi-open relationship, kind of infidelity?, polyamory!!, if I missed any please let me know! Each chapter will have their own content warning!

W/c: 1k+

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

Javier frequented this quaint little diner for one reason and one reason alone. The sweet little waitress that would serve him black coffee every morning. He would watch in a trance as you moved about the diner, serving clients their orders. You always had such a pretty smile when attending him and other patrons which was what got his attention first. “Welcome in, I’ll be serving you today!” you were just so cute with your little pink star clips that matched the powder pink dress you wore as uniform, he grinned as he heard your sweet little voice, he knew he had to have a taste of you. “Hola dulzura (Hello sweetness).. I’ll just take a regular black coffee and an order of pancakes.” You had pulled out a notepad and pencil from your white apron around your pudgy stomach and wrote his order down. “Alrighty, I’ll get that for you in a jiffy.” You turned around and began walking towards the kitchen. As you walked away Javier couldn’t stop himself from looking at your bigger figure. You were so much different than the women he was used to fooling around with and you certainly weren’t his type.. But for some reason he wanted you, you were just so delectable to him for a strange reason.

And so it began, he would try to go to this little diner almost every day just to see you. He’d get so bummed out if you had the day off or were doing another shift. It got to the point where he had your shifts memorized. You began to notice how often Javier would come to your job and would only want you to serve him. You didn’t find it odd, in fact you were quite flattered that a man as attractive as Javier was interested in you. Eventually Javier decided to ask you out on a date which you happily accepted, now a few months later you’ve become his little muñequita.

You had moved in with Javier and learned about his job as DEA agent and quite honestly you found that to be so attractive! Every night when he’d come home from work all worked up and tired you just had to make love to him. Depending on how the day played out he’d fuck you soft and sweetly or if the day was shit or he was angry, he’d fuck you so roughly it would leave you sore for days. You were highly satisfied with your sex life.

One night Javier told you his work buddy and partner Steve Murphy would be stopping by so they could have some drinks. Apparently Steve was going through a rough divorce and needed some cheering up. Being the ever good muñequita you were, you cleaned up the house and prepared some snacks for the boys to enjoy. You were excited that yours and Javier’s relationship was going good to the point where he’s now introducing you to other people in his life.

When you saw Steve walk through the door you froze. You didn’t expect this man to be so attractive! You instantly became shy and when Javier introduced you both, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. Javier smirked, he knew that look all too well. You looked at him that same way when he had called you over to his table to ask you out on a date. As the night progressed you made yourself scarce. Part of you was ashamed for finding this man attractive when you had such a loving boyfriend who was so sexy but another part of you couldn’t help but imagine how his cock looks or how it would feel inside your mouth, pussy, and even your ass.

When Steve finally left Javier cornered you in your shared room as you both got ready for bed. “Why was my little muñequita so shy today hm? ¿Por qué estaba calladita mi niña? ¿Por qué estaba muy distante? (Why was my little girl so quiet? Why was she so distant?)” You looked at Javier shyly as you stood there in just your tank top and panties. “¿Miro algo.. O alguien que le llamó la atención? (Did she see something.. Or someone who caught her attention?)” You nodded your head and sighed “Yes.. I’m sorry Javier but your partner is so attractive…” Javier only chuckled and reached out to rub your chubby stomach. “So very naughty muñequita… I bet you imagined Steve fucking your pretty little holes silly while I watched hm?”

You did not expect Javier to have this reaction, your eyes widened as he let out a small laugh. “I thought as much. Listen my buddy is going through a rough time, I’m sure he could use some lovin’ from you my little muñequita.. What do you say hm? Next time he comes to our house it’ll be to have some fun with my favorite toy. That sound good?” You felt yourself get aroused at the proposition. As long as Javier and Steve consented to your little playtime you were so down to have a little taste of Steve.

As you both laid in bed you asked Javier in a hushed voice. “What.. what do you think his cock looks like Javi?” Javier laughed, he knew what Steve’s cock looked like.. One night some months back before you, Javier and Steve found themselves locked in an office at the embassy with their hands on each other’s cocks. They gave each other mutual hand jobs one night tensions were high and it became a regular thing to fool around with each other till Steve was going through his divorce and Javier met you. “It’s long but it isn’t quite as thick as mine muñequita.. If you can handle my cock, you can handle his.” You nodded your head as your mind raced with images of what Steve’s cock would look like.

When your eyes were closing shut to drift off for the night you could feel the bed creak as Javier sat up to use the phone to contact Steve and tell him about the proposition. You wanted to hear the conversation in its entirety but you were too sleepy and you were falling fast. Last thing you remember hearing was Javier. “Esta bien la próxima semana entonces. (Alright, next week then.)” he rasped as everything faded to black. You couldn’t wait to have your playdate with Steve.

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x plus size reader #javier pena x you #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x female reader #steve murphy x plus size reader #steve murphy x you

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frownyalfred · 7 months

Note

If this too much or too personal please ignore!

But I was just wondering if you had any advice for grieving? (I lost a close family member very recently)

I'm so sorry for your loss, anon. I don't know your exact situation, but I hope your loved one's memory is a blessing to you and your family. I'll leave my thoughts below the break, since I'll discuss death and dying a little.

I am, as many people on here likely know, still grieving the loss of my father. It was sudden and unexpected. It was bloody and somewhat traumatic for our family. Thinking about it still leaves me dazed and unfocused.

Grieving is such a strange process. I've been talking about it with my therapist weekly, and her main takeaway has been that there is no right way to do it -- and that it is far from linear. There are positive moments and regressions. There are funny memories and difficult truths to grapple with. There is anger, confusion, sadness. Despair. So many unanswered questions and moments that hover on the edge of veneration simply because they are the only ones you have left.

How did I grieve? I cried a lot, at first. I took off work and sat shiva with my family. I answered a thousand well-meaning messages and played one singular song on repeat on my phone. I barely slept. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. I woke up crying without remembering exactly what I had been dreaming about.

Then, as if in reprieve, my brain let up. I slept somewhat normally again. My body was no longer on the edge of tears at any given moment, nor was I entirely numb. Slowly, I began to think of normal things again; new television shows, updating a chapter, irritation at the banal things like traffic and work.

And anon, I thought to myself, this must be it. I'm no longer "grieving," or at least not in the traditional sense of the word. I was eating, sleeping, going to the gym and work, updating my works and hitting the club again on the weekends.

But I wasn't done. And I'm not sure I ever will be. I wanted to be done, in so many ways. I was mad at my father for dying, for making me grieve, for keeping me in this state where I couldn't be confident in anything I was feeling, any progress I was making. Where I could remain silent and resolute at his burial, but sob like a baby in my apartment when the concert t-shirt he gave me was stained by some soup.

But that's a lot to put on the dead. And sometimes I have to keep reminding myself that -- that he is dead, that there is a gap in my life I keep trying to skip over, like avoiding tonguing at the aching tooth in the back of my mouth. And when I forget, the world is more than glad to remind me, whether through well-meaning neighbors, colleagues, etc etc.

I suppose that's a long way of saying, I think I'm still grieving anon. I'm not sure I'm doing the best at it, active or involuntary as this process seems to be. I have an amazing support network, but so much of this work seems to be solitary, even when someone is sitting right next to you, crying with you.

The Jewish saying "May their memory be a blessing" has been a good focal point for me, I think. It dovetails nicely with the Mandalorian saying "Not gone, merely marching far away." I've thought about both a lot in the last few months, because I'm a huge nerd and also because I don't think the cultures are too dissimilar.

Let your loved one's memory be a blessing in your life, anon. Remember the happy moments, and speak them out loud if you're able. Don't let their name remain sacred. Don't sanctify them, for we are all humans and humans are complicated, but don't leave their life behind you.

Those memories of them, those funny moments and sad days, fun trips and strange conflicts, those are all yours now. No one else has them. And when you and your family are gone, those memories are gone too.

Other small things that have made this whole process easier: Starbucks and DoorDash giftcards (seriously, some days are too hard), letting myself take time off hobbies (gym/writing) without penalizing myself, naming my grief and allowing myself to sit in it (I'm sad today about x, and I want to lie down for a few hours. I'm lying down because I'm feeling sad about x, and I'm allowed to feel that way). Going to the gym and running until the natural endorphins help. Talking with my families about good and complicated moments with my dad. Writing, when I'm able. Reminding myself it's okay to not be very functional, that it's okay to not be perfect and you would never expect someone who is grieving to be so. Talking to a therapist and getting treatment for what I experienced. Accepting the kind words of others, even if they hurt or are unintentionally difficult.

I'm sorry you're going through this anon. I know how you feel, or at least some of what you feel. I hope you have support and loved ones around you who can help shoulder some of this process.

<3 Jay

#tw grief #tw death #tw dying #tw grieving #personal #about me #forgive me for being terribly emotional and personal for a moment #asks #anon

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xoxiu · 10 months

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my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter nineteen (finale)

table of contents masterlist join the taglist discord

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline

taglist: @allamericanuniverse @llallaaa, @frieschan, @queen-klarissa

"Kiwo," Yoongi said, voice shaking from the panic and anxiety he faced. He immediately engulfed the cold, wet girl in a hug despite the mud puddle she sat in. Yoongi hated getting dirty, but he would do anything for Kiwo. "Oh, Kiwo. Never do that again."

The three trekked back to the house through the mud. Namjoon stood a few paces behind Yoongi as he carried Kiwo, taking a close look at the sight before him. Yoongi, understandably, was a mess of rage, fear, and relief. He held Kiwo tightly, afraid she would melt away from his arms somehow. Words of love mixed with scolding could be heard over the overwhelming sound of pouring rain.

Kiwo, however, looked out of it. She had not spoken a word nor let out a whimper since found, only capable of resting her head against Yoongi's shoulder. Her eyes remained on the ground, her body tense yet pliant, and her overall demeanor was of defeat.

Once they were within view, the group that remained outside ran up to Yoongi. Namjoon noted the two missing- Jungkook and Jimin. The younger must have taken the little inside once the rain had started.

Everyone had huddled together in a cold and damp embrace, cooing at Kiwo and scolding her at the same time. It appeared everyone had Yoongi's mixed emotions- happy she was safe, but disappointed over her stunt. Once again, Namjoon gave a good look-over at Kiwo- she still appeared deep in thought and out of the moment.

Yoongi picked up on Kiwo's demeanor, gently setting her on her own two feet. She started at the ground, eyes glued on her own two feet. Perhaps, Yoongi thought, she was only still frightened from her run.

Quickly, Yoongi pushed any sympathy he had for her aside. She ran from him, for God's sake! Kiwo was given the smallest ounce of freedom and tried to leave him behind. It was obvious now that any progress Yoongi thought he built with Kiwo was gone- all trust and confidence were thrown out the window.

Yoongi gripped Kiwo's shoulder tightly and marched her up the muddy hill. The rest of the group froze, wondering what caused Yoongi's sudden change in pace. Hoseok was the first to chase after them, placing a hand on Yoongi's shoulder.

"Hyung, what are you-"

"We're going back to Seoul," Yoongi said, dragging Kiwo further up the trail and back towards the house. The rage, the fear, and the panic Yoongi felt at that moment were enough to confirm his theory- Kiwo was not ready to be independent yet.

No one dared interfere with Yoongi and his rage. They all stood back and watched Yoongi shove the muddy Kiwo in the backseat of his car before speeding off.

———

Yoongi remained deathly silent as he sped through the countryside. Kiwo watched from the backseat as he clenched his jaw and tightened his hands around the steering wheel. Repeatedly she tried to talk to him, occasionally calling out his name. The man never responded.

"Did I do something bad?" Kiwo asked. Of course, she already knew the answer. But she wanted to hear Yoongi talk to her.

"Bad?" Yoongi reiterated, feeling the anger rise further within him. "After the stunt you pulled, you dare to ask if you were bad?"

It was Kiwo's turn to remain silent. She lowered her head, staring at her hands resting in her lap. Yoongi carried on with her scolding.

"Do you know how dangerous that was? This is a very steep area- you could have slipped and fallen off of a cliff!" Yoongi slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "Bad. You were very bad. You won't be leaving the apartment for a year-"

Flashing lights and sirens stopped Yoongi's ranting. Both of their hearts beat out of their chests- Yoongi's speeding had attracted the attention of the police. Not sure what to do, Yoongi continued for a moment before rationalizing that continuing to break the law wouldn't make the situation any better.

"Stay quiet. Not a single word," Yoongi warned her as he turned off the engine. The officer approached them, holding a flashlight to help him see through the heavy rainfall.

"You are aware how dangerous it is to be speeding in these conditions, right?" Yoongi silently nodded at the officer, quickly holding out his license to make the encounter go by quickly. The officer moved the light from Yoongi's face towards the backseat. Kiwo kept her head down.

All she had to do was look up and give the officer her name. She would be free then. Never again would she have to see Yoongi's face. She would be on the next flight home, reunited with her friends and family. All she had to do was look at the officer.

The officer did a double take. He moved the flashlight down towards the ground, before flashing it back towards Kiwo. She looked up.

"Sir, can you step out of the vehicle for a second?" The officer demanded, hand naturally reaching down towards his holstered gun.

It felt like Kiwo blinked and all of a sudden she was in the back of an ambulance. She stared blankly as she watched Yoongi being forced into the back of a police car- his face was calm. His composure never wavered throughout the entire encounter, and Kiwo swore she saw him smirk at her every once in a while.

"Kiwo, you need to answer our questions," an officer said. He followed her stare towards Yoongi before giving her a sad smile. "It's okay, he can't hurt you now."

The girl tugged the blanket wrapped around her shoulders tighter as she cast her gaze down to the ground. Yoongi never really hurt her. Of course, he punished her, but he only did that whenever Kiwo was bad and deserved it. But he never left any lasting wounds. Kiwo sighed. All she wanted was Yoongi.

———

There was no trial, contrary to what the detectives in Korea told Kiwo. Every day, she would sit at home waiting for the call saying that she would have to come and speak against Yoongi in court. Kiwo didn't want anyone to know what Yoongi did to her- she was too embarrassed. She was even more embarrassed to admit she missed him.

After all these months, Kiwo never said a single word about what happened to her. It was like her and Yoongi's secret. And Kiwo was good at keeping secrets. She hoped Yoongi would be proud of that.

Every day she would go through the motions of life- making herself food, small talk with her family, and therapy appointments. It wasn't actually Kiwo doing any of those activities, it was more like a ghost trying its best to adjust to life after Yoongi.

In her head, everything was Yoongi. School life was Pre-Yoongi, Yoongi, of course, was Yoongi, and whatever life she lived now was referred to as Post-Yoongi. This Post-Yoongi Kiwo wasn't Kiwo. The real Kiwo was still in Korea, cuddled in bed with Yoongi watching whatever Disney movie she wanted. While the real Kiwo mourned her Pre-Yoongi self, she could never imagine her Post-Yoongi life, because it would never exist. Her life was all Yoongi, and she herself was all Yoongi's.

Kiwo stared down at her phone. The victim's services website stared back at her in its bold white and blue color scheme. Raindrops fell gracefully down onto the screen, and she blamed the water droplets for entering Yoongi's name into the search bar.

'Status: Discharged'

It rained the day Kiwo was taken away. Just like that day several months ago, she felt cold. Winter passed in the months she was gone, but the chill of winter remained in the early spring air. She remembered that day well- how she froze as her life was torn away from her and packed into the backseat of a police car. Today, she wasn't numb and fearful of the future. She knew what she was doing.

Putting her phone in her jacket pocket, she crossed the side street toward the fancy high-rise apartment complex. The area felt like a warm hug in the chill breeze. Kiwo knew this area well. Her muscle memory led her up the stairs and towards the only door she knew. With every step, she walked faster in anticipation; she was going home.

Kiwo watched as her shaking finger reached out to ring the doorbell. So close, she was so close to being home again. Everything depends on whether or not Yoongi would open the door for her.

The buzzing of the doorbell died down, and shuffling footsteps could be heard quickly approaching the door. Kiwo kept her head down as tears threatened to overflow from her eyes. This was all too real, too crazy.

Yoongi opened the door to an unexpected sight. He smiled warmly down at the girl in front of him.

“Welcome home, baby.”

(a/n:

ahhhh there will be a sequel my angels dont fret)

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #mafia au #bts little space #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #vminhope #namjin #my house of stone your ivy grows

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letters-to-rosie · 3 months

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okay, been writing Ekko, and I feel like sharing some parts of what I've been working on lol

This time, Ekko, Ran, Lock, and Dustin are paraded through a maze of hallways meant to disorient them or dazzle them, whichever comes first. Piltovans are upward people, always thinking about the sky and the stock market and social climbing, whatever they perceive to be above them. They miss what’s right under their noses, in front of their eyes, and so on, and they miss it while staring out their oversized windows that never look down enough.

On the wall opposite the staircase they’re marching up, there’s a map. On it are marked locations of BOL satellite offices: some in Shurima, including one not far from the beaches of Kalamanda; many in Noxus, where the autocratic nature of its many subdivisions makes business simpler; a handful in Noxian holdings in Ionia and other disputed territories. More under construction in far-flung lands. In his mind’s eye, the maroon and gold company logo grows tentacles and chokes the whole world before choking itself to death.

.........

But this is no television drama. As great as the satisfaction might be, as much as he wants to play the hero, Charleston Beaumont is infinitely replaceable. His entire family is. If they all were to die right this second there would be weeping and eulogizing for all of two weeks before the “City of Progress” would progress past the tragedy and only ever whisper their names at cocktail parties. Someone else would dominate the shipping sector. Don’t you know the entire river is full of sharks, Silco would ask? They circle and wait for blood in the water.

And don’t you liken yourself to one, Ekko asks back? No, no, stop—this is no place to fall into existential grousing. He has to deal with this bullshit before he can go wallow in the mess he’s made of his life. Later.

(he calls himself dramatic multiple times in this chapter)

#rosie's writing desk #revolution-verse #this fic is #timebomb #but i don't think powder's gonna make it in this chapter #he will be thinking of her tho

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grayintogreen · 8 months

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OKAY SO. I am (and this is obvious for my followers as opposed to this tag), I am currently running headlong towards the ending of my huge CR longfic, but I have started to develop my next project. Not sure when I'll start posting because if I do it too soon it's going to be hard to keep up with it and YCDHN and I do NOT WANT THAT, so I'm gonna poke at it casually while seeing how much of YCDHN I can write before I come back from my posting hiatus in March. If it looks like I'm making a lot of headway in getting the next three chapters written, we'll see.

SO WHAT IS THIS NEXT PROJECT? Glad you asked.

learn that even death may die is going to be a Hazbin Hotel fic that goes AU after 1x06 (due to that being where I started plotting it). The official summary is as follows:

When Lucifer agrees to seal his powers to set an example of humility to buy more time for the Hotel to work, Adam and the Exorcists scheme with the Vees in order to take the Hazbin Hotel down once and for all. Meanwhile, Alastor has a little secret that he'd like to be through with that would change the face of Hell if anyone knew...

And Husk has caught feelings, which is unrelated to all of the above.

It's a plotty, ensemble piece, featuring Found Family dynamics, Alastor and Lucifer being each others' biggest haters, Husk and Angel in a bodyguard AU for reasons, and the kind of plot you can expect from the idiot who brought you two million words about Cree Deeproots.

Here's an extended preview of the first chapter. Spread the word! Get hype! It's something I'm really excited to work on when I've gotten a lot more progress on my YCDHN backlog.

The last week had been… Harrowing, to say the least. The Extermination had been personal- deeply personal- and while no one at the Hotel had fallen, the line of angelic spears stabbed into the ground outside with demon heads proudly spelling out YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER (Vaggie had noted that was such a waste of spears) had made the message clear. This was going to continue and next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

She didn’t know when the next would come- back to a year or another six months or another week. She had paced, relentlessly, as the Hotel put itself back in order and those who had been injured licked their wounds. Husk, in particular, had survived a scuffle with Adam, himself, and while he didn’t appreciate the warm embrace he got for his bravery, she didn’t know how else to thank him aside from maybe a very expensive bottle of booze at Angel’s suggestion, which he did like and seemed to like even more when she told him it had been Angel’s idea.

That should have been something she lit on! Something that she could really sink her teeth into and do something about! Were Angel and Husk an item? Was there unspoken tension? What would that do for Angel’s suitability to Heaven? Surely, a stable, monogamous relationship could only-

But no. She’d let that thought slide out of her mind with barely more than a hum, never mind a full number about it. Her mind had to be on the Hotel and protecting it. She couldn’t even do a lesson plan in these conditions! Activities had ground to a halt in favor of ‘work together to clean up the corpses.’ She was going to scream or bite or… or something.

Vaggie helped. She always did. The initial shock of learning about her being an angel had passed and while there had been some distance in the month leading up to the Extermination, Vaggie’s dedication to her remained absolute and she had nearly gotten herself killed multiple times to make up for what she felt were her sins in the past.”

”Demons kill each other and that’s different,” she’d said when Charlie told her that no one in the Hotel, save herself, was fully clean of demon blood.”They aren’t killing because they think everyone here deserves to die. It’s different.”

So that was still sort of a whole unresolved thing too, and that was just before her father kicked the door in, ready to throw down because he had one rule when his hand was forced about the Extermination and that was not putting his family in direct harm. Getting him to do more than fume and fuss over it had occupied a lot of time she didn’t actually have, but the end result had led her here… Back to Heaven.

With her father.

Outside the golden gates, he stood ramrod straight, fingers clenched so tightly around the head of his cane she was certain his fingers would grip right to the core. She glanced at his shaking hands and laid her own over them. “Dad, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t been back to Heaven in… Oooh.” He whistled. “Awhile. It’s…” He tugged his collar. “Not actually full of great memories, y’know, sweetie?” He leaned over to whisper. “Maybe we should just go back down and work on this on a lower level. I know some phenomenal wards. You think that dusty radio guy has moves? Your dad has better moves. I invented some of those runes he uses. My wards- pristine.”

She wrinkled her nose and pulled him closer to the front desk. “Daaaad, come on. It’ll be fine. I think things will actually work out this time if you’re here.”

“Really? ‘Cause I feel like they’re gonna go much worse.” As if to prove it, the second the pair strode towards the desk, St. Peter nearly flung the guestbook to reach for something underneath the desk. Charlie had to lunge to stop his hand from hitting a button with a very familiar runic symbol on it- fuck, they had a Lucifer button.

“Wait wait wait! He’s not- we’re not here to cause any trouble. We just need to talk to Sera- or Emily. Actually, I’d rather talk to Emily, if it’s… all the same.” She shot him a winning smile.

Behind her, Lucifer was making what could only be described as a ‘stink face.’ “This is going greeeeat. Are you sure about this, Charlie? It’s not too late to go back.”

“Dad!”

“Charlie!” A winged shape suddenly burst free of the Gates and wrapped tight arms around her middle. Unable to resist, Charlie wrapped her arms around the gray-clad form as well and spun her around. “Emily!”

“Oh my Heavens, Charlie, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Emily pulled away to grip Charlie’s hands so tightly that it was a pleasant kind of crushing. Like a weighted blanket. She leaned forward to whisper, “I’ve been doing all I can. There are angels who truly believe this isn’t right. Sera has told me to give it up, that doubting leads to Falling, because-“

Both girls looked askance at Lucifer, fiddling with the head of his cane awkwardly, that vapid look he got when he was overwhelmed making it clear that he’d stopped paying attention.

Charlie, for the first time daring to doubt, whispered back in a nervous high-pitched lilt, “Iiiis it bad that I brought him here?”

“No! I… I don’t think.” Emily frowned. “I should warn Sera, of course.” She stepped back and approached Lucifer, who flinched like he was about to be scolded- oh dad how badly did the angels hurt you. “Greetings, Morningstar,” she said, bowing a bit. “It is an honor to meet you. I was only a fledgling when you Fell.”

“For the record, I didn’t Fall. I was pushed.” Lucifer, seeing Emily’s own flinch, immediately softened and underneath all the anxiety, Charlie caught a glimpse of the angel her father had been once as he ducked his head and accepted her greeting graciously and with the genteel quality of true nobility. “Thank you for being courteous about this. Tell the High Seraph that we won’t take up any of her time. We… have a deal to renegotiate. It seems Adam’s legions have forgotten what we agreed long ago.”

Emily bobbed her head with a grin and slipped through a portal, leaving St. Peter to anxiously open the Gates without his usual aplomb. Charlie strolled through and Lucifer, feeling somewhat more confident after seeing how Emily treated him, tapped the poor angel’s desk with his cane. “Keep up the good work, Pete.”

The promenade was still full of people dancing about in a joyous display of virtue and peace, but now looking at it, all she saw were people who had somehow gotten lucky. She tried to find a commonality in any of them, something that she could take back and use to prove her point, but there didn’t seem to be a single thing these people had that hers didn’t… besides, you know, the fixation on sin and murder. And, honestly, some of them might have that too, hidden under the surface. Look at Adam.

“Heyyyy, Short Stack! How’s it goin’?”

Speak of the fucking prick.

Every fiber of Charlie’s body reached for Hellfire and only her father’s iron-tight grip on her shoulder kept her from exploding in a rush of demonic energy. Her horns appeared and vanished in the blink of an eye and she focused on deep, healing breaths as Adam, the walking canker sore, swaggered up to them on the promenade.

“They’ll let anyone in here these days, huh?” Adam planted his hands on his hips and grinned. Behind him, Lute bristled.

“Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about you. Hah!” Lucifer barked. All that anxiety he’d worn outside had been cast aside like an old coat- something about Adam had struck the same nerve that Alastor had only in a different key. A beat, and then: “No seriously, how did you get in here? I was there, remember. You also ate the apple. It was a, uh, whole thing, actually.”

“Yeah, but I did it second.” He reached into his ear with his pinky to dislodge a bit of wax and flicked it across the golden streets. “That counts for something.”

Still lingering on the angels’ wishy-washy answer about how precisely one gets into Heaven and with the proof that there wasn’t some actual code to follow right before her eyes, Charlie crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to scowl. Scowling gives you lines that make your smiles less effective. Everyone knew that.

“How’s the wifey, by the by, Lucy? Still smokin’?” Adam slammed a hand into a fist. “Oh wait. I forgot. You two are hella divorced, amirite?”

“We are not divorced.” Lucifer began to panic, whipping to Charlie like he expected her to believe any of that shit. There was something in his eyes that spoke volumes about the truth of what was going on with him and Lilith that she would have to unpack later- she hadn’t asked before. It was too painful to bring up. “We- we’re on a break. Yeah, a break. Just a break.” He swallowed, leaned on his cane, and adjusted his stance. “Which is more than I can say for you and yours. How is Eve, by the way? Oh waaaait! She’s in Hell. With me. Just like your first wife. Hah. Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say one of us knows how to treat a woman.” Another pause. He leaned into Adam’s space and whispered. “It’s me.”

Adam’s ghoulish face screwed up in disgust. “Yeah, okay, pal, you just drink your ‘respect women’-” are the air quotes necessary? really?, “- juice. You can use it to gargle after you lick my balls.”

“Adam,” Sera’s voice said, coarsely, snapping him to attention with a mumbled aw fuck mom’s home.

She hovered as glorious as ever with her six wings, towering over Lucifer as she landed between him and Adam, shunting him out of her space and into Lute’s. Charlie and Emily both shot him sour looks and held hands in solidarity as they watched the fallen Morningstar engage with the High Seraph for the first time in millenniums.

The seconds ticked on in agonizing awkward silence. Lucifer’s throat bobbed. “High Seraph.”

“Morningstar,” Sera murmured, politely, her shoulders tense. Another long moment of silence followed- clearly she was waiting for Lucifer to explain himself. Charlie’s palms started to sweat, but not Emily’s. Angels apparently didn’t sweat. Her grip alone, however, spoke to her anxiety matching Charlie’s.

Lucifer’s jaw trembled and he finally, finally yanked himself together again. “Maybe we can talk about this somewhere more private? The street is… Open.”

Indeed, they were starting to attract attention. People might not recognize Lucifer on sight these days, but that apple and snake motif was sort of painfully obvious when you thought about it for a moment. Sera gave a nod and circled her fingers in the air to open another portal. “Certainly. Come into my office.”

Adam started to follow and Lucifer thrust his cane to stop him. “No, no. Not you. Seraphs only.”

Adam snarled and lowered the staff. “Your piece of hellsnatch daughter ain’t a seraph, Little Man.”

Charlie saw her father’s eyes light up with a fire she only saw when he had to be in a room with Alastor. “What did you say about my daughter?”

“Dad.”

“You want me to say it louder? Or do you want me to moan it, Daddy?” Adam leered.

“That’s enough!” Emily snapped before Sera could, her small form crowding into Adam’s space, all of her angelic eyes open and glowering daggers at the lesser angel. He shrank back. “There will be no more disrespect in this room. Adam, this concerns you, so you will be allowed entry, but please keep your mouth shut.”

Charlie felt her heart squish as Emily brushed off her dress and then strolled through the portal, nose primly in the air. Sera, lips pressed together, only gave a sober nod and followed.

“How come he-“ Adam snarled, but Lute gripped his arm and pushed him into the portal.

“Pick your battles, sir.”

“I wanna pick this one,” he whined as he vanished into the Seraph’s study. Lucifer and Charlie lingered for a moment- one with hope in her heart and the other rapidly descending into the pit of despair after just seconds of glorious, if not damning and futile, wrath. She reached for his hand.

“C’mon, dad. You got this.”

The soft smile melted her heart even more than Emily’s protection had. He stood on his toes to pull her into an embrace and give her a kiss on the head- more to comfort himself than her, she was sure, but she didn’t mind. He hopped through the portal and she followed into an austerely decorated space. Painfully minimalist. Ooh this was not a side of Heaven she liked at all. There wasn’t even art on the walls. Just gray slate with a huge plate-glass window behind the bare desk. Not a single knickknack to distract from its function.

Sera slid into the seat behind the desk, while Emily stood at attention next to her, hands clasped in front of her, eyes still fixed on Adam, daring him to speak. He skulked in the background, intentionally toying with the boring book-laden shelves- also free of knickknacks and personal touches- by running his fingers on the spines or pulling them out and pretending to read them before tossing them at Lute to put back with a bored eyeroll.

Conjured chairs were produced for Lucifer and Charlie, which they took, gladly. With everyone who was going to settle having done so, Sera sighed.

“Let’s talk, Lucifer. What brings you back to Heaven? You were told to never come back.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel sera #my writing #learn that even death may die

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