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pastel-peach-writes · 3 months ago

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Switched Roles | Natasha x Nurse!Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Now in a committed relationship with each other, you and Natasha have found your groove. You, now being a practicing nurse in the Compound, and she, the patient who seems to never get enough of you. What happens when you're the one hurt this time?

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Not Proofread, Second POV, No Use of Y/n, Nurse! AU, No Cursing, Usage of the Term Girlfriend/Girlfriends/Partner, But Otherwise Gender-Neutral Reader

(A/N): This is technically a sequel and/or another part to "Learn To Take A Break", my Natasha x Reader Nurse! AU but you don't need to read the three parts to understand what's going on here!

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

You glanced around the kitchen of the Compound, the open and sleekly designed room empty and as still as the trees that surrounded the facility. It was only a matter of time before the Avengers got back from their mission that ended a little over an hour ago.

You wanted to grab a quick sneak of some snacks in the kitchen. You had your own kitchen and mini fridge on the nurse's side of the Compound, but the Avengers had way better snacks. It wasn't filled with all that new-age health junk Steve and Clint tried to get you to eat.

Sorry, guys. But the all-wheat bars with just a hint of fruit flavoring isn't enough to keep me satisfied for the day.

And also, you were out of your good snacks anyway. You just need to find time to go grocery shopping, but why go grocery shopping when a perfectly stocked kitchen is right here? And it's not like this would be considered stealing. You live here! Just... in a different wing... on the opposite end of the campus– Whatever! You're hungry, and you want a good snack.

That shouldn't be a crime.

You peered into the cupboard, the white shelves filled from ceiling to floor with all kinds of snacks. You had your classic chips, your wacky flavored chips, sweet treats, healthy treats, all the cereal you could imagine, and some Trader Joe's specials Wanda liked to dabble in from time to time.

What that woman finds in that store is amazing. You were always asking for her snacks whenever she came walking by eating.

At the top shelf resided your favorite snack of all, your secret pleasure, Zoom O's. They were bite-sized pockets of goodness that had a sweet yet not overwhelming taste to them, with the perfect amount of salt to combat the sweetness. The texture, at first, has a satisfying crunch from the thin icing layer before it turns into chewy goodness.

You had no clue where the Avengers found this snack. You tried every store within a 100-mile radius and even checked online but you haven't had any luck. Given the box's slim yet geometric design with a futuristic blue color and flashy font, you could guess that this snack wasn't found on this world. Or maybe even, this universe.

Turning to the door where there was typically a step-ladder to reach the highest shelf, you found yourself staring at a blank wall instead. Your brows furrow in confusion as you search the pantry and even close the door to see if the step-ladder was on the other side but to no avail.

Where was this step-ladder, and why wasn't it in its rightful spot?

You could stand here and blame every single person that resides in the Compound for not putting the item back where it belongs, or you could take the initiative and do some out-of-the-box thinking.

You nod to yourself, a short smile on your lips.

Yeah. You were gonna do some out-of-the-box thinking.

The shelves are sturdy enough to withstand the weight of a god and the strength of a genetically modified green monster; it could definitely take your weight.

Your socked feet find the lip of the bottom shelf as you pull yourself up to grab onto a higher one. You grunt, eyeing the contained snacks by your feet and making sure you weren't touching them. Once your space from the food was as far as you could get it without slipping off, you reached your arm up to the box of Zoom O's only to find that you're still a few inches short.

The back of your throat possesses a grumble before you step onto another shelf and repeat the same steps as before. Currently, you feel as if you are rockclimbing, which wasn't too bad unless you count the lack of harness and mats to be "dangerous", but you're fine!

You're in the Avengers Compound, for Pete's sake, the safest place on Earth!

Reaching your arm once more, you still find yourself a few inches short from the box. The arm gripping onto the small shelf at your chest was screaming from a sort of break from all the muscle tension you were currently possessing.

Come on... Almost... Almost...

The slam of a door a few feet away and the loud arrival of Tony Stark and the others startles you out of your concentration. Your arm and hand finally gives up on keeping you steady on the shelf and your feet slip out from under you, sending you falling back onto the floor way faster than you indented.

You brace yourself for a long fall but because the fall was shorter, you land wrong on your knee and almost end up twisting your ankle. Thank goodness you didn't, otherwise--

The sudden tripping over a plastic jar of jam sends you tumbling into the pantry door. Your only hope to catch yourself is the handle, but you try and stand yourself up, the handle moves and you lose your grip.

You nearly faceplant the floor before using your hands and knees to catch yourself. The only downside to falling hands and knees is that now the palms of your hands sting and the knee, the one that you landed wrong on before, banged against the floor. You groan out in pain, the feeling of hitting your knee familiar to hitting your funny bone.

You could see the bruise now.

This is what you get for trying to sneak snacks from places you weren't supposed to. You should've been an adult and gone to the store like everyone else. It's not your fault the store was at least an hour away from the Compound. You chose to live on campus; that was your issue.

"Whoa!" Scott commented as he entered the kitchen. He wore a blue flannel, regular jeans, and he smelt of regular soap not like must and sweat like the Avengers did when they returned. There's no way he showered that fast. "You okay?"

You pull yourself up to your feet with a hobble, an embarrassed smile at your lips as you try to reassure him. "Yes, I'm fine. Just misstepped. How long have you been here? Did you not go on the mission with the others?"

Your attempt at redirecting the conversation was successful but trying to play off your aching knee and now ankle you swore was blowing up in your sock seemed to be the challenge.

You didn't know that mentioning Scott not being on a mission with the others and him not even knowing about the mission was going to be the cause for a never-ending conversation about his feelings.

You didn't talk to Scott much due to conflicting schedules, but boy. When this man speaks, he speaks. It took Natasha coming into the room with Tony to get him to stop talking.

"Hey, Miniscule Man," Tony called out to him, much to Scott's frown. "Could you not talk my nurse's ear off? Thanks. We need them down in their office, where they should be–" Tony gives you a pointed glare to which you innocently whistle and look away. Natasha chuckles softly at your action before Tony continues, "–to do an after-mission check-up and analysis to make sure none of my guys are hurt."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah." Scott waves Tony off in an apologetic way. "Totally. I was just making sure they were alright and then we started talking and– am I not a part of the team, by the way?" He gestures questioningly towards Tony. The other man only groans in response. "Because I heard that you guys were on a mission and I was like, 'hey, I'm a part of this team too so I should be on the mission', right?"

As Scott continues to ramble on in a conversation Tony can't seem to get away from, Natasha steps over to you with a playful smile on her face. "Come on, My Nurse. Let's get you downstairs and talk about why you're up here in the kitchen and not in your office during hours."

Her voice had a teasing hint in it, her lips trying to suppress a smile but only for Tony's sake. If he wasn't already peeved off from how today's mission went, she wouldn't care about sparing his feelings and making the occasional joke.

You smile warmly at Natasha, your eyes meeting each other's as you both snake away from Tony and Scott and make your way back to your office.

As you two begin your journey down, your girlfriend can't help but notice how you're favoring your right side and trying to keep your face stoic when you're in obvious pain.

She'll mention it to you later, but for now, she wanted to see how far you were going to go in masking your pain.

Just weeks ago, you called her out for doing the very same thing you're doing. She couldn't help but find the irony and humor in this otherwise serious situation.

"So, you gonna talk to me or are you going to let us walk the entire time in silence?" Nat chimed from beside you. "Because I'm perfectly fine with walking in silence. However, you typically ask a lot of questions when we come back from assignments."

You bite the tip of your tongue, both out of embarrassment and suppressed pain. "I do not," you croak.

She raises a brow at the delivery of your sentence but doesn't say anything about it. "Oh, you don't?" She chuckles to herself. "You always ask how it was, if we're okay, if the people are okay, and if anyone needs immediate attention. Actually," Natasha's head tilts in amusement while a snarky smile sits on her face, "I don't seem to remember a time where you didn't ask us questions."

You would be defending yourself and indulging in this witty conversation with her if you couldn't feel your literal knee plate move with each step you make and your ankle pulse.

"Ha ha. You're so funny, Natasha," you dryly express.

Natasha hummed, satisfied with your answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she can your face twist with pain. Her green eyes travel down your legs, more specifically on the leg you're not favoring, and she takes notice of your hand just barely covering the bad knee.

"Okay," Natasha exhales. She stops her movement to look at you with her arms crossed over her chest like a mom. You stop moments after, barely masking the soft hop you had to do to face her. She makes a gesture to your knee. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." You shrug at her. "I didn't do anything."

She scoffs a chuckle, though there was no humor behind the exhale of laughter. "You expect me to believe that? You're limping and holding your knee like a high school football player after a tough game."

You snort. "I don't think that's a fair comparison."

She shrugs. "Doesn't need to be. You're hurt." She steps closer to you, carefully analyzing your legs and how you move as you step—er, hobble—further back.

"Natasha," you mutter, trying to give her actions awareness. Your words fall upon deaf ears. She keeps walking towards you, your proximity threatening to close each time until you hobble backwards. Eventually, she had you backed against the hallway wall. Her eyes remained glued to your legs.

You grunt in slight pain.

Your back pressed against the concrete wall. Your heel and Achilles now throbbing since you scuffed them against the wall as you were backed into it.

"You're hurt." Natasha's voice sliced through the air, her tone firm. Her green eyes flicker up to hers, and while you expected some sort of disappoint in them, you couldn't find that at all. Instead, you found concern and a hint of frustration. "Why would you try to hide that you're hurt?"

You give her a weak shrug. "I didn't think it was anyone's business. It literally just happened a few minutes ago."

Natasha opened her mouth to scold you but decided to listen to your full story before assuming the worst and so, she took a deep breath. "Okay," she strains. "Why didn't you say anything before our walk?"

"Again, I didn't think it was anyone's business. It's just my knee and ankle, okay? I gotta get these evaluations done and then I can tend to my needs if I still need to."

The redhaired woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose while the other hand rested on her hip. "Should I remind you that you're a nurse? You, out of all people, should know some things can't be ignored."

"Okay, well, this one thing can. I have a job to do."

You understand Natasha's concern, but you couldn't bring yourself to listen to her statements. You were embarrassed by the way you injured yourself. If someone were to see you icing your knee or walking in somewhere with a wrapped ankle and/or crunches, questions would arise. Questions you really, really didn't want to answer.

Imagine how much of a fool you'd look like telling literal superheroes who survive aliens, falling buildings, and who knows what else that you hurt yourself by trying to get a snack. It was humiliating. Your best bet right now is to ignore the cries of pain your body's making and tend to them later.

After dark.

When everyone, especially your girlfriend, is fast asleep.

"How can you expect to do your job when you literally can't walk?" Natasha retorts. You snort at her, hands on your hips and an interesting smug smile on your face for someone who was in pain mere seconds ago.

"I have a really cool swirly chair."

Natasha deadpanned and met your eye only to find a playful glint in them. The same playful glint you gave her when you made a terrible pun in the examination room the first day you met.

She hated yet loved how your smile made her feel. How she wanted to cup your cheeks or pinch at them teasingly as if she was a grandma. How she wanted to shake her head with a smile she failed to hide, even despite her best efforts. Or how she wanted to place kisses on your cheeks just to make you smile wider.

The training she endured in the Red Room did nothing to prepare her for your smile. Nothing at all.

You know Natasha too well to not notice her own smile trying desperately to break through while she averts her gaze to the side with a snort. The apples of her cheeks puff up just ever so slightly, the beauty mark on her cheekbone making her look cuter than she already was.

"You're a dork," she finally says while letting a smile seep through.

"Yeah, I know. You like it, though."

She can't help the laugh that escapes her. "So," she says, laughter at the end of the word as she crouches down to your knee and applies a gentle pressure around the bone. When you wince, she eases but continues to feel around. "I'm going to ask you again, and I want an actual answer this time. What did you do?"

Her persistence wasn't going to go away. When Natasha Romanoff wants to know something or get something done, she gets it done.

It's an admirable quality until it's used on you.

You groan slightly as she presses a tender part on your knee. She mutters a "sorry" before adjusting so you can sit on the floor with your legs in front of you.

She slowly bends your bad leg and straightens it as she watches you both for an expression of pain and an answer to her question.

"I may or may not have landed wrong when trying to get something. And then tripped, maybe rolled my ankle, and banged my knee against the floor as I tried to grab the door handle for stability."

Natasha shakes her head fondly at you. "You should be more careful. Why would you grab onto a handle to support you? All the handles here are janky."

Your knee eases as she lets the leg lay flat on the floor again, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. She slides across the floor, not caring if she was getting her pants dirty since they were already dirty from the mission. She didn't have time to shower once they came back.

When Tony asked Friday if you were in your office and the AI said no, she immediately volunteered to go find you. Well, more like she told Tony that she was coming with him to find you, even after Friday told him about your exact whereabouts shortly after saying you weren't in your office.

She wanted to see you. She wanted to see what you were up to and to be evaluated first while everyone else took showers because she loved the way you looked at her when you were doing your necessary examinations. It may be selfish, but being selfish isn't a crime.

And yeah, maybe she should've showered so she didn't smell like city buildings, sweat, and ash and have dirt marks on her face, but she didn't care about that. Thank goodness she didn't; otherwise, who would be here to take care of you in this hallway?

"Yeah. All that money and Stark still can't invest in good things like doorknobs," you snicker. Natasha also snickers, now by your feet and just now noticing that you don't have any shoes on.

"Where...?"

"Oh," you chuckle a little. "I had to take my shoes off to get something. Don't worry about it."

Her face squishes in confusion, head tilted and brow raised. "You had to take your shoes off to get something in the kitchen?" she incredulously asks.

"Yeah," you give her an infuriating vague answer with an "innocent" smile. That same smile Stark calls you out on when you try to play the innocent nurse. "As I said, don't worry about it."

All this vagueness that surrounded your answers was really getting on Natasha's nerves. The "maybe's", the "I'm fine's" when you're totally not fine; it was all ticking her off, and all she wanted was a clear answer from you.

"You know," she said as she peeled back some of your sock to expose your bare ankle. "Even if you don't tell me what happened now, I can ask Friday to give me footage from when you fell, and I would find out then."

As you suspected, your ankle was swollen, but that was the least of your worries at the moment.

"So," she moves her head in a way that would fling her braid to the other side, "you can either tell me now and spare yourself the embarrassment, or I can find out through video where I wouldn't hold back my reaction and share with the team." Her eyes narrow towards you, as if she dares you to choose the latter. "Your choice."

Well, with an ultimatum like that, how could you choose the latter?

You let out a sigh of defeat, and Natasha grows giddy on the inside.

Finally, after all the huffs, puffs, and beating around the bush, she was going to get the answer and hear how all of this went down.

When you tell her how you received such injuries, she deadpans again, her face unreadable this time. You couldn't find the hint of a smile, the processing of information, nada. Just green eyes staring back at you with hooded lids.

The silence as her eyes bore into yours felt like forever. Like you were frozen in judgement and you wouldn't be released into the present time until Natasha deemed you as ready.

She puts the sock back around your heel and ankle, nodding to herself as her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek. "Okay."

You lean forward, hanging onto the words you were expecting her to say, but they never come. "'Okay'?" you echo. "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

Natasha wraps your arm around her shoulder, and she pulls you to your feet. She moves your body so you're leaning onto her as you two continue your journey to your nurse's office. "Well, what do you want me to say, Nurse?" she chimes. You can basically taste the tease coming. "That you were so smart for that 'out-of-the-box thinking' you called yourself doing just to fall and bust your butt? All over a box of Zoomieo's I might add?"

You whine. "They're called Zoom O's. What the heck is a 'zoomieo'?"

She snorts. "I don't know. You tell me since you wanted it so badly." Natasha can't help the laugh that comes from her belly. She tried to be polite and not laugh about your injury to your face, but the situation was too funny not to.

Besides, she's not laughing at you. She's laughing with you.

You know, for when you look back and laugh about this situation in the future? Yeah. She's just getting a head start.

Luckily, the rest of the journey to your office wasn't as far and leaning onto her side definitely made time go by faster, so you don't have to listen to her laughing and endure the embarrassment for long.

She sits you down on the examination bed despite your pleas to sit in your chair. You watch as Widow effortlessly moves around the room, going into the correct cabinets and drawers for the medical supplies she needs.

"How many times are you in here?" you ask, astonished at how well she knew your system.

"Not much at all." She shrugs with a single-use ice pack and ankle wrapping tape in her hands. "I'm just very observant." Taking her seat in the chair, she scoots forward until she's right in front of your legs. "And when I like something, I tend to keep my eyes on it." She gives you a flirty smile you don't dare to look away from before she moves your sock again and tends to the injury.

You don't know where she learned how to tend to someone like this, but you were grateful she did. Although your job is to tend to people and you could tend to your own injuries in your sleep, it felt nice every now and then to be cared for. You were sure Natasha felt the same.

"Okay, now I need you to ice this until the swelling goes down and keep this compressed." She gestures to your now-wrapped ankle with a wide smile. She twirls across the office, still in your chair, to where you keep the ice packs and comes back with another one. "Same with your knee. Ice it. I didn't feel or see any swelling, but that doesn't mean you're not going to be sore."

"And what about yourself, Miss. Widow?" You hum as she comes back to you. She pops the single-use ice pack and shakes it to get the fluids moving. Once the sounds of liquids sloshing around turns into ice sloshing around, she presses the pack to your knee.

"What about me?"

"Well, don't you and the team need some tending to? I can't do that if I'm icing."

"Oh," she chuckles through a smirk, "so now you listen to me." You playfully roll your eyes before she continues. "Don't worry about us. No one is really hurt from today. Tony's just a little pissed off and wanted to make sure we didn't have smoke in our lungs. That's something all the robots around here can detect and fix. Right now, I'm all about taking care of you."

Smitten and bashful, you smile to yourself. "Okay... and that smell of smoke in your hair?"

"Ain't nothing a shower can't fix, sweetheart." She pats your good knee twice before rising from the chair and cleaning up the mess she made. "I'm gonna take you to your room and then after I shower, I'm going to check up on you."

Again, Natasha moves around your office as if she was the one that built it brick-by-brick and organized it from medical supply to medical supply. You knew Natasha had a nurturing nature to her, yet you never thought you would be the one to receive it. Not in a million years, not even in daydreams.

As she finishes up her cleaning and sanitizing, her back to you, your heart can't help but swell by the gestures and the things she did for you today.

You knew your relationship was more than nurse/patient, and being each other's partner definitely aided in that, but after what she did today, your relationship status finally felt real.

You were Natasha Romanov's girlfriend and she was yours.

"Do you need anything else from me in here?" she asked, removing her jacket to reveal the black tank top she had on underneath. You had to pull your gaze away from her toned arms, not wanting to get caught staring as you did once before, though seeing them was always a treat.

"No," you reply, voice barely above a grateful whisper. "Thank you."

She slings her jacket over her shoulders before doing the same with your arm and helping you off the exam bed. "No problem. Just don't pull a me, okay? If we're going to be partners and work together, there's only enough room for one of us to hide our injuries, and I prefer it not to be my cute nurse."

You can't help but snicker as joyful fleeting feelings fill up your stomach as the two of you walk to your together. "Yeah, yeah."

After feeling like you had to keep your injuries to yourself and convincing yourself that you would be the one doing all the nurturing in your romantic relationships, Natasha took no time in proving you wrong, and that was something you didn't dare to complain about.

FIN.

WC: 4,344

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andcars · 6 months ago

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ㅤ [ 𝗕𝗔𝗗𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗘𝗦 ]

premise. you're a singer invited to watch the formula one race. a lot of people think you aren't interested in the sport at all—which is kinda true. but you're really only here to root for one of the drivers.

prompt # ㅤmale reader, secret relationship, famous reader, [ "Take it slow—shit! You're eager" ]

tags #ㅤsemi-public sex, talked to like a princess; fucked like a whore, world champion daniel ricciardo, renault daniel ricciardo (but age of current danny ric), happy trails make a happy man, implied shoey, soft ending, semi-unprepared sex, saliva(?) play, licking, sweat kink (reader receiving), light body worship

wc #ㅤ2.3k

ㅤㅤFEEL FREE TO INBOX ME FOR THOUGHTS OR REQUESTS !

| MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

It’s a classic. You’re that guy who loves to be on the slow side of things—exploring different fields, experimenting shapes and colours, never sticking to a location—and he takes things almost too fast.

Everyone thinks that you don’t like sports—you don’t, truly. You need to make that clear. Yet, your eyes drift towards the lightweight car driving in odd loops. It’s just cars. Yet the sport is less about the facts and more about the heart, isn’t it?

The fact is: you’re soft spoken.

Your heart says: you yearn for the man on pole right now.

The black-yellow car passes everyone. From the Renault garage, you're watching with detached excitement. You're sure that the camera will catch you grinning wide yet looking confused most of the time. Still, the race was entertaining enough.

With heart clenching corners, you watch as the man on pole defends his position from the others. And somewhere after, he fucks risks and breaks late—which apparently got him an advantage. At least that's what the overeager commentators were saying.

The race couldn't have gone quicker. You get to see quickly how fast your lover 'pits' (changing tyres, you think?). Apparently, it wasn't fast enough. Though from your perspective, it was pretty fucking quick.

Nonetheless, the race seems almost flawless. With the remaining laps lessening by the minute, he quickly advances

Speed wasn't really your thing. The greatest thing in life for you is the serene moments in the trail. As Daniel Ricciardo crosses the finish line, you know that you're the only thing that he slows down for.

"Here in Austin, Daniel Ricciardo wins home his first championship. An incredible race for the Australian driver." The loud commentator booms in your ears but you're almost crying from the happiness you see on Daniel's face.

The stupid cheek-to-cheek grin, the untying of his shoes, the absolute joy in his face for pouring champagne in his—Jesus, what is he doing?

It's truly official. You're dating a weirdo.

Soon, you're pulled away from the garage and being ushered to the media pen for an interview. You know enough that, technically, you shouldn't be here. But it was something about celebrity work that you are also being interviewed here.

"Lovely to see you on the paddock," someone said, you're unsure if they even know your name.

"Yeah." You nod at him, a bit awkward, "I've been following Formula One for a bit but not a lot. It's another experience watching it live."

"Have a favourite driver?"

It's obvious that he thinks you're clueless about F1. Which is, by the way, fair.

"Yeah, Daniel Ricciardo definitely has been one up on my list. Heard he's switching to Red Bull with Max Verstappen so uh, kinda excited to see how that goes."

Those bad ass scenes you watch in those POV videos feels like this. Little less music, though. Still, his face looks out of place as he listened to your answer. It might not be a lot but it's more than other celebrities' answers, you presume.

"Heard you're releasing another album," oh, so he does know you. "This is a new step for you—apparently it's more pop music than your usual R&B."

"Yeah, right," he's not even paying attention to you anymore, distracted by something behind you, "Think it's timed perfectly with me learning some new things in Formula 1, you know? Just new experiences and all that. But I have been a fan for quite a while, so it's still not that super new to me. Similar with pop."

"Well, you're not the only one here who's a fan, it seems."

Behind you, Daniel Ricciardo wears an over-exaggerated face, smile eye-to-eye and hands covering his squealing mouth. You have half the mind to punch him.

"Omagash-omagash-omagash-omagash!" He screeched, jumping up and down—to which you laugh at.

“Hello there,” he fanboys, as if you don’t let him spread your legs after races. “Hi.”

His hand is on his heart, acting as if he needs to calm himself, “I’m such a huge fan. I know all of your songs from heart.”

“Yeah? You wanna join me in my interview?”

Daniel gasps, stepping hesitantly as if it’s such an honor to be standing next to you. You think about how he should apply to some acting classes to improve.

“Welcome, Daniel,” you remember that his idiocy is being broadcast when the interviewer spoke again. “It’s an honor to watch you win your first Formula One championship. With the rollercoaster of a season—“ looking at him, he’s already looking at you—“would you say there were little miracles that helped you win tonight?”

The question is directed to Daniel. Daniel is directed towards you. It's almost embarrassing how he is just not listening to the question. You tried not to look at him but from the corner of your eye, he's screaming your name with just a gaze.

"Daniel?" He snapped to the camera.

"Yeah, sorry," he laughs. "Question... miracle? Sorry, what?"

Awkward air was attempted to be fanned by the laughter from the three of you. It was an attempt for sure. Daniel scratched the back of his head as the question was asked again. You weren't sure if you're dismissed from this conversation now.

"Think we all got little miracles around us. Still, the team did a good job from the crash in Monza. Think if they hadn't repaired it in good shape, I'd be driving a truck.

"Ah, I do have miracles right beside me though. You know, my loved ones," his eyes are addicted to you, "You know that, right? Feeling blessed when they're watching you succeed?"

You can't muster a proper response. If you rewatch this interview, you'd probably see your flustered face in the camera. To save yourself from spluttering, you just nod and say, "Yeah," while laughing.

God, you love this man.

A few minutes later...

Jesus, you hate this man.

"I know, just quickly," he's smiling and grinning against your skin as he hastily takes off the rest of his suit. His tank top is left on while his pants are pulled down to his knees.

A groan leaves you for the sake of your pride. "Sure you can't wait to the hotel room?"

He's shaking his head in your neck. A sharp bite just underneath the collar of your top comes in. "Mm, you know I love you too much. And our post race brief will be shit to handle, babe."

It's embarassing how quickly you can forgive him just from the tone of his voice. It's rich and deep, vibrating against your skin. He sounds straight out of an erotic book. His short breaths, the warmth of the air and the feather like touches only amplify the arousal fogging the storage room.

It's small. So you can safely say you're suffocating in horniness.

You feel it more than anything else. His hot cock is grinding against your clothed ass. The hem of the underwear being pulled with each thrust of his dry cock against you—shit.

"Daniel," you push him off, "I'm not fucking you dry."

"You aren't," he tells you. You look at him and you can see the playful turn of his mouth. He doesn't say another word. Yet, his eyes briefly glance downward, a lick of his lips, and a tilt of his head is enough to tell he wants a blowjob.

Jeez. Both amusement and the gutteral urge to suck his cock fight inside of you, "You know that my saliva isn't enough, right?"

He laughs. Defeated, he pulls a small bottle of lube from his race pants. First of all, they had pockets? Second of all, when the fuck did this man decide to be this prepared?

"You're a tease," you reach for it—immediately denied as he used his height against you.

Daniel shakes his head, letting out 'tsk's. Before you could retaliate, he places his hand on your shoulder and lulls you down. The slow push to your knees and the view of his proud smile is a sight to cum to. His cock twitches in agreement, most likely loving to see you sink down like a slut awaiting for a reward.

There's no time to complain (not like you want to, anyways). Your lips are eager to part and mouth at the head. The taste of his win is still on him. Victory, champagne, and sweat is all you get just from this. He moans when your tongue plays at the frenulum on the underside of his cock.

His hips buckle, causing you to gag out of surprise. Hand now on your hair, he controls the pace as he rubs the head of his cock on your tongue repeatedly.

"Fuck..." he groans, lost in his own pleasure, "You suck cock like a fucking slut. If only your fans could see how you wanna get fucked by me so bad."

He's purposely teasing you when you can't speak. Both hands on your head, he's fucking deeper into your throat. "Shit, yeah," he moans, "Smart mouth only for sucking my cock, baby. So fucking good just like this."

Every thrust he does, he fucks himself deeper and deeper in your mouth. You're getting intoxicated by his musk and the way his happy trail brushes against your nose. It's like he's trying to bury you between his legs so that he could keep you as his cock warmer.

"Good fucking boy, God..." he throws his head back, enjoying how your throat tightens around him as your tongue rubs all it can around the shaft.

You're caught off guard when he pulls all the way out. "Mmph... Daniel," you pant, "Shit. Fuck."

His cock is dripping with your saliva. You try not to moan at the sight but you're ogling it anyways. With a hand on his cock, he slaps it on your bottom lip and a small whine escapes.

"Like that?" he asks as if he doesn't already know the answer. "So fucking wet already, I should just fuck you like this."

He runs his mouth faster than his car sometimes. Pulling yourself off the floor, you meet his lips. It’s hungry and almost devouring. As if it was recited, you both find yourselves with your back to the wall and a leg around his waist. The last remains of your clothes are gone. He’s pressing against you, his cock just barely teasing your rim.

“Daniel?” you breathe his name in the kiss. He lets out a breathy moan in response—“Shut the fuck up and fuck me”

That gets the message delivered. Daniel laughs as his lips pull away to trace his tongue around your face. It’s like his own technique. He laps at the sweaty skin, completely unbothered and rather entranced. He’s pouring more lube around his cock and using the rest on his fingers.

The clock is ticking. You let out a groan when two fingers enter you suddenly. The push is more pleasurable than painful. He feels warm around you and the vents in this room isn’t enough to cool you both. It’s hot. He’s fucking you quickly while grinding his cock against your thigh like he wants more.

Your face is drenched. In any scenario, you would tell him off. But like this, he’s breathing heavy against your skin. You can hear him groan and grunt as if he’s the one getting off from this. You briefly get reminded of the dog you always wanted. Maybe comparing your boyfriend to a dog isn’t the best idea.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, resting his mouth by your earlobe, “I’m gonna put it in, yeah? Gotta rush.”

He just wants to stick it in.

"Danny, wait—fuck! Slow down..."

Your legs try to close around him—his hands hold your knees up to fix the position. You’re probably going to fall. He wants to hold you up like this, fuck you like this, keep you on his cock just like this.

The stretch had your head hitting the wall. It burns just the right way. Daniel is acting like a virgin with how much he’s enjoying all of this. You’re not sure if it’s because of the lack of preparation or the thought that you would be caught any time.

Either way, he fucks you much more animalistic than before. You’re not a moaner, but your breathing gets heavier as little punched out moans escape your parted lips. He fucks you too fast-too rough. Every thrust has your body jumping.

“Good fucking boy,” Daniel moans, “so pretty, so fucking tight. Letting me—yeah, shit…”

Whatever he says doesn’t matter. He’s blabbering nonsense as he’s getting close. All the teasing, all the non-existent distance, all the cameras only increasing his arousal for you. It all comes out in his frantic pace.

“You’re gonna make me fucking cum!” Both of his arms secure your waist, holding you like he would with a toy. “Gonna make me cum so quick. Such a good slut—my favourite boy.”

You associate the drawn out groans with him cumming. His movement slows, opting for deeper thrusts. A hand comes down to jerk your cock to your own completion, shaking from his eagerness.

His name is on your tongue when spurts of cum leave. It’s embarassing how you dirty both of your torsos with your spent.

Daniel’s laugh is vibrating through your skin. You wince when he decides to give a playful nib at your earlobe. “Sorry,” he lies, kissing the back of your ear like it would heal you. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

Trying to find the words are hard. “You—you act like you only date me to fuck me.”

He memorised your joking tone along with the taste of you. “Well, you only date me to fuck me too.”

“No,” your legs slowly drop, “I fuck you to get more exposure in sports.”

@delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @rtorresblog @jamie2305

FOOTNOTE ────── finally broke out the writing slump w/ this one ! hope i reach the riccy d's girls w this one . cuz uh, me too

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whattheskyknows · 6 days ago

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Drv3 timeloop (sorta) au where after the 53rd season 'ends', everyone wakes up with their memories of the previous season.

And when I mean everyone, I mean everyone. Every student, Monokuma and the Monokubs

Putting a read more so this post doesn't get obnoxiously long lmao

I think this au would suit multiple protagonists, switching between povs when needed.

Starts with everyone waking up EXTREMELY wary because how the hell did they end up back here?

Kaede notices Shuichi seems extremely on edge. The first thing Shuichi does, of course, is hug Kaede because holy shit, she's alive again. After that he drags her out the classroom and sprints to where Tsumugi should be - only she isn't there

Eventually everyone finds each other inside the dining hall. No one reveals anything at first and things are tense. No one wants to be the first one to admit that something horrible is going on.

However, the moment Shuichi, Maki and Himiko see Tsumugi, they just tackle her

During the chaos, it's Gonta who lets it slip that he doesn't understand why he's back here. Slowly, one by one everyone admits they also remember the previous loop. Reactions vary:

- Rantaro literally has no clue what is going on

- Kaede is unable to look Rantaro in the eye until Shuichi tells her that she's innocent. Kaede is still upset and keeps rubbing her neck

- Ryoma is disappointed that he's back

- Kirumi remains silent and pale after finding out about the truth of the outside world. She also keeps shooting Ryoma guilty looks

- Angie thinks it's a good thing that everyone is okay again, although keeps shooting Korekiyo icy glares

- Tenko is confused but pleased everyone is okay again. Refuses to leave Himiko's side

- Korekiyo is quiet, silently observing everyone

- Gonta is just straight up baffled. Keeps apologising to Miu

- Meanwhile Miu is screaming at Kokichi for daring to plan her murder

- Kokichi remains silent. He knew he was right about there being an audience, but that doesn't mean he's happy

- Kaito is glued to Kokichi's side, keeps asking Kokichi if what he said about hating the killing game was a lie

- Kiibo watches everything unfold, Shuichi is wary if the audience is still influencing him

- Tsumugi is confused why they're all back together

- Survivor trio form the Tsumugi Shirogane hate club

Eventually Monokuma turns up and is like, "I bet you're all wondering why you're here, and also alive again. It's simple. You're all in a simulation."

Shuichi is seething because he thought he had put an end to Danganronpa. He asks Monokuma what the hell is going on.

Monokuma is like, "Oh, the answer is straightforward. You're all technically in a timeloop."

Everyone is confused, especially by how blasé Monokuma is.

It's Tsumugi who asks why they're in a timeloop.

"Because the audience hasn't seen an ending yet that has satisfied them."

Now the room is silent. Kaede has to help Shuichi sits down before his legs give out. Maki and Himiko look like they're going to be sick. Even Tsumugi is taken aback.

Eventually it's Kokichi who asks, "How many loops have we experienced?"

"Well, the previous loop was the 53rd loop, so I suppose that makes this the 54th."

In this au, drv3's ending isn't canon. Yes, there's been 53 seasons, but because there's been 53 seasons, the audience have higher expectations. No one liked the original ending of 53, so Team Danganronpa decided to restart it. And again, the ending didn't satisfy the audience.

So season 53 kept continuing.

Now, it's reached its 54th try.

"We decided you guys should keep your memories of the previous loop this time," Monokuma tells them. "The audience is getting sick of you all introducing yourselves to each other. And it helps spice things up a little, right? Clearly there's a few people here who are hated more than others."

Everyone turns to look at either Tsumugi or Kokichi. Kokichi looks at the floor whilst Tsumugi seems indifferent, almost proud.

Monokuma reveals he remembers each and every loop, and is a little disappointed that the 53rd loop was rejected.

"Honestly, I thought it was the perfect ending for 53, but apparently the audience wasn't satisfied," Monokuma reveals. "Apparently the ending was too 'self-aware.'"

"So... we've played this game... 53 times?" Tenko asks, horrified.

"Are you deaf? I've literally just said that!" Monokuma answers. "Oh yeah, I've got a few new rules to add so things don't get stale."

New rules:

- Rantaro is not allowed to keep any secrets

- Ryoma must use his lab daily

- Tenko isn't allowed to spend more than an hour with Himiko a day (meal times included)

- Angie cannot form a student council

- Kaito cannot call anyone his sidekick

- Kokichi is banned from the hangar (or more specifically, banned from being crushed by the hydraulic press)

- Kiibo must survive until the end of the game at the very least

These rules have been added to keep things fresh. As the seasons went by, the audience noticed a few things didn't change much during every season. Rantaro always remains secretive, meaning he always dies early on. Ryoma never does much. The audience is tired of Tenko sacrificing herself for Himiko every season. The audience is sick of Angie's student council. The audience is tired of Kaito always being the one to help everyone. Kokichi always ends up creating a murder mystery; he's used the hangar and been crushed by the hydraulic press 53 times, they want to see him do something different now.

Monokuma says he'll give the group a motive tomorrow, wanting to give the group a day to wrap their heads around their situation. In actuality, Team Danganronpa are desperately trying to plan a unique motive. They're hoping since everyone has their memories, tensions will rise naturally.

Everyone is dumbfounded, horrified that they've been through so much but remember so little.

The main thing they need to figure out is: what sort of ending will satisfy the audience?

I have dubbed this au 54 Games Played

Anyway this au is basically kinda like a postgame au where instead of everyone waking up and recovering together in a hospital, they wake up inside the academy again.

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shardsofmarxx · 1 year ago

Text

Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff

Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)

Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)

As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.

“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something.

You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”

“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.”

You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.

“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.

“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”

You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”

"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.

“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.

Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.

“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”

You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself?

You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.

"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.

That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives.

“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”

You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did.

He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”

You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation.

Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”

“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did.

“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.

You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important.

You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.

“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.

You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.

Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.

You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.

“Y/N!!! Hel-!”

You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.

“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.

“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.

“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.

“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine.

“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.

“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”

Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt.

After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.

“And now, the grand finale!”

You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.

“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed.

Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating.

You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.

Suddenly, it stopped.

“Hey Y/N.”

As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.

You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.

You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs.

Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.

“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”

You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts.

Basically, you looked like crap.

Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.

He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault.

"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”

He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.

“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”

“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.

Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.

“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."

Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.

“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.

Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”

You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest.

“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.

You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.

“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”

You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.

Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke.

“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.

“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."

Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.

“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter.

“Yeah, we sure do.”

Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.

“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response.

“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.

You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.

“What did you say, Spencer?”

“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms.

“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.

Thanks so much for reading!

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aww-canon-no · 2 years ago

Text

Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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yourfriendlyfanperson · 6 months ago

Text

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 2: More than a Coincidence

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 2.8k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter two! Thank you so much for the love on the first chapter, I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

If anyone could tell me how to do the number link thing where I can link the second chapter to add to chapter one I would be so so thankful I have no idea how to do it

~Narrator's POV~

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!"

She stops walking, turning around to look at who was calling her name in the corridor, and she sees Robin rushing towards her, almost falling back but she catches her balance before she falls and continues running towards her.

"You won't believe what I just saw," She says stopping in front of her.

"What?! What happened?" She asked, wondering what exciting information she found out now.

"Steve Harrington is going out with Nancy Wheeler," She told her, eyes wide open, "Can you believe it? I thought he only dated the pretty easy-to hook up with girls"

"I thought that too, but I also guessed something might be going on between them since I saw them hanging out yesterday" She shares with Robin, "I never would've guessed that Nancy would be the type of girl to go out with someone like Steve"

"Right! I mean she's so smart and pretty! She could get any guy in Hawkins and she went for the dumb popular guy of all" Robin said, she had never been able to understand what people saw in Steve, she saw him as a grade A asshole.

Y/n thought Steve was okay, she didn't want to have much of an opinion on him since she didn't talk to him outside of the classroom so technically didn't know the 'real' him, but she didn't hate him or anything like that.

"Maybe there's something about him that they see" She points out.

"Or maybe they just have such a low-self esteem they will settle for someone like him"

"You really don't like him do you?" She asks her, knowing very well her answer.

"I have a right to dislike him alright, he's an asshole to some people, is rich and he gets the chance to date most if not all of my crushes" Robin explains annoyed.

"How is he being rich something that adds to him being an asshole?" Y/n asks confused as to how that comment is relevant to the conversation.

"Because, meanwhile we're both here poor with our part-time jobs" She complains opening her locker as she takes out her books.

"I'm pretty sure he can't help the fact he's rich, and I'm not really poor, so technically you should hate me too," She tells her, partially joking.

"I could never hate you though, and you're economically okay"

"Wow, so you're saying I'm almost poor?" Y/n asks her walking to her next classroom.

"I mean...no, but also yes" Robin explains to her.

"Rude" Y/n adds as she pushes Robin away from her.

They both laugh at each other as they continue walking down the corridor, knowing that this is just one of their usual banters. Yet Steve stayed at the back of Y/n's mind after the conversation ended and she wondered what type of person he really is, whether he's an asshole like many think, or whether there's more to him than meets the eyes.

She had most lessons with Steve actually, but they never really talked outside of science, she guessed it was due to the fact in his other classes he sat next to Tommy or some of his popular friends, so it would be weird for him to speak to Y/n as if they were close friends since they weren't, she wasn't even sure if they were friends, she supposed they were simply acquaintances, or just classmates, anything along those lines.

Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, which she found a bit strange but she guessed he just spaced out those times, it happened to her sometimes as well so she knew not to overthink about it. And there wasn't really a reason for her to overthink about it anyway, she didn't find Steve interesting in that way, sure she thought he was probably hiding more than what he led on, and that his only mystery was more than just him trying to act cool.

Other times he surprised her as well, those times tend to be whenever he asked her about the lesson and if she could help him understand what was actually taught, and today just happened to be one of those days.

"Hey, Einstein," Steve says walking over to Y/n's desk.

She looked back at him surprised by the sudden start of a conversation as she packed her books.

"Yeah?"

"Did you-umm, understand anything that Mr. Drew explained?" He asks, knowing full well that he spent half of the class talking with his friends and the other half trying to comprehend what was coming out of Mr. Drew's mouth.

"You're asking me if I understood the crash of Wall Street in 1929?" She responds, slightly confused on how someone couldn't understand at least the basics about it.

"Yes" Was all Steve was able to say, realising how stupid he must seem now.

"Yes I understood it, did you?" She asks, and he could tell she didn't seem to have any intention to judge him.

"I mean, honestly, no, but I wasn't paying much attention to be fair," He says, feeling okay with the fact he might be a bit of an idiot.

"You gotta start paying more attention in class Steve, we graduate next year," Y/n tells him as she takes one of the books in her bag out again.

"I know, I know, and I will, I swear"

"You better, because I can help you study but I can't get you the grades at the end of the day. Now, here are the notes I took of today's class, they're pretty self-explanatory but if you need help with them just let me know and I'll go over the topic" She explained handing him her notebook.

"I own you big time" He smiles at her taking the notebook and putting it in his bag

"This is like the thirtieth time you've said that, you own me a lot," She tells him, mostly just joking, but also keeping it in mind.

"I know, but I'll pay you back one day," He tells her, actually being serious and wanting to eventually thank her for all her help.

"You don't actually have to, you know? I help you because I want to, not to get something in return" She points out as both of them start walking out of the room.

"I know, but I still need to thank you, you've helped me more than anyone else, even though it must get annoying"

"And there you're very right, it can be annoying at times but it's not so bad" He looks at her confused, unsure whether he should take it as a compliment or be offended.

"Is that supposed to be a good comment?" He asks.

"Well-"

"Hey, Y/n have you seen Barb around? Or do you know anyone that has seen her today?" Nancy asks her clearly worried.

"No sorry, I haven't seen her, I don't think anyone I know has any lessons with her so I doubt they'd know," Y/n tells her, a bit surprised by the question given the fact she never talked to Barb and was a year older than both of them so there was no way she would have any of her classes with her, "Maybe she's off sick"

"Yeah don't worry about it too much Nance I'm sure she's fine," Steve tells her, taking her hand and moving closer to her. Y/n knew it was time for her to go.

"I'll let you know if I hear of her though, I'll see you guys around," She said waving goodbye at them and walking off to her next lesson.

The rest of the day was pretty normal, nothing exciting ever really happened in Hawkins anyway, so aside from school and work there was nothing Y/n had to worry about, except, of course, the fact that Will was still missing and was yet to be found.

She hoped that what they had found last night would at least be a start, but she also knew that maybe what they found meant nothing to the investigation. All she wanted though was for Will to be found and returned safely home.

"Do you have work today?" Robin asks her as they walk down the corridor, the school day finally over.

"Yeah, I'm taking the bus there since my dad has to stay late finishing some things, do you?"

"No, I worked yesterday so I'm free today, but I have to help out my mom with some things" Robin explained to her as she opened the door and they both walked out of the school.

"Sounds fun," Y/n said sarcastically.

"I mean it shouldn't be too bad, but when it comes to my mom there are times when I don't even know what will happen"

~~~~~~

"Do or die, what's done is done" Y/n sings as she skates down the night streets to her house. She had finished her shift for the day and was finally heading home after a long day of serving customers at the cafe, but she got some pretty good tips so she didn't have much to complain about.

Due to the fact she didn't own a car or a bike, she always skated from the cafe to her house, it wasn't too far away and she actually liked skating, it was her way of exercising (since she wasn't in any of the school's teams) and it was fun since she could listen to music while getting home.

Robin had told her that she should just save up for a bike since it was quicker but Y/n would rather save her money on something else that she either needed more or wanted more. 'You'll break your arm or leg one of these days' was what Robin always told her, but in her 7 years of having skates she had only scrapped her legs or arms, she also doubts the fact that tripping on something will make her end with a broken bone, so, for now, it seems she'll just stick to skating.

"Hey dad, I'm home," She says, unlocking the door and taking off her skates, "What's for dinner?"

She closed the door and left her bag next to his, taking off her coat and placing it on top of a chair.

"They gave me some mac and cheese that wasn't sold today so we could eat that if you haven't cooked anything," She told him walking to the living room where he was sitting watching the tv as she waited for his response, but there was none, "Dad? What do you-"

"On today's breaking news the body of Will Byers, who was announced missing just yesterday was found by the police minutes ago in the quarry"

Y/n's face drops as she hears the news, she takes a seat next to her dad as she keeps listening to the news trying to process what's going on, trying to process the fact that Will is dead.

"Chief Hopper believes he got lost after crashing his bike and accidentally fell, resulting in a tragic but hopefully painless death, but as of now it is just a theory, and we don't actually know if it was an accident, or perhaps something more. We give our condolences to the Byers family and we hope that they'll be able to get through these tough times "

Scott stands up and turns off the tv right after, not wanting to listen to any more details about the tragic death of his student and his daughter's friend.

Meanwhile, Y/n is still staring at the screen shocked, frozen in place, trying to understand the news she was just given, Will Byers, the little twelve-year-old boy which she babysat for years now has just been announced dead. She can't understand how such a thing can be possible, how a boy who had his whole life ahead, who was just beginning to live, who was the kindest person she had ever met, was dead just like that.

"Honey, are you okay?" Her dad asks her sitting back down.

"I-no, no I'm not," Y/n says as she starts crying.

Scott immediately pulls Y/n into a hug, her head hiding on his chest as she hugs him back, he patted her back gently moving his head on top of hers as he closed his eyes. He hoped that Will's death had indeed just been an accident, he had to make himself believe it was, because otherwise he might not be able to sleep for a while knowing that there could be someone out there who wants to hurt kids, and that could possibly hurt his daughter, he also couldn't believe that Will was dead, a boy he had been teaching for years and saw almost as his son, to end up with a fate late that. Y/n on the other hand just kept thinking about Will, what his final moments were like, whether he suffered or not, she couldn't even imagine how Joyce or Jonathan must be feeling getting the news that he is dead.

"I can't believe he's really dead" Y/n whispered as she stopped crying.

"I know honey, it'll be okay, how about I heat up the mac and cheese," He says, trying to help things calm down for just a second.

"It wouldn't be right if I tried to talk to them tomorrow would it?" She asks him.

"Talk to who?" Scott asks confused.

"Joyce and Jonathan, they probably need some space and time, so I should wait a bit before talking to them, right?"

"Yeah it would be better for them, they need to process everything first, let's wait a couple of days,"

Y/n nodded at her dad as she moved away from the hug, standing up and grabbing her bag, "So, mac and cheese?"

~~~~~~~~

The next day was exhausting, everyone around the corridors kept talking about Will and what had happened, Y/n was glad Jonathan wasn't in school because it would've made things impossible for him, she hoped he and Joyce were okay. She also kept thinking about Barb, Nancy had told her in the morning that she was missing and no one had seen her since Tuesday night. Two people now had gone missing, one of which had been found dead, and Y/n had a terrible feeling that maybe everything that was happening was more than just an accident.

"Just, don't mention the beers, it's just gonna get us both in trouble, and Barbara's got nothing to do with it, okay?" Y/n faintly heard someone say as she walked out of the school.

"I can't believe you right now... I can't believe you"

"Nancy!" She heard someone shout as she walked towards the middle school, she saw Nancy walking out of the spot between the school and gym, angry, like really angry, she didn't even look up when she passed by Y/n, she just kept walking straight to the school.

"Nancy come on!" She turned around and saw Steve coming out of the same spot, he wasn't trying to catch up to her, he knew she would ignore him anyway, "Einstein, hey" He says, his tone softer now as he turned to look at Y/n.

"Hey, everything okay?" She asks him, partially because it was the normal thing to do and also because she wanted to know what had happened, as nosy as it sounds.

"Yeah, everything's okay," He told her; Y/n knew he was lying, Steve knew she knew he was lying, but in a way, they both knew it would be better to leave it like that, "What about you?"

"Oh I'm fine, just walking to the middle school to help out with the assembly" She explained and he nodded at her.

"Cool"

"Yeah, well, I'll see you later," She said unsure of what to keep talking about, as she started walking away.

"Wait," He said walking closer to her, "How much did you hear?" He asked her.

"Honestly, not that much, only the end of it"

"Did it sound bad?" She looked at him confused.

"The argument?" She asked.

"Yes, the argument, did I sound like an asshole?" Y/n didn't think she could really make much out of what she heard, but it didn't sound great either.

"I mean- I barely heard anything, I don't even know the context of the conversation so I don't think it's right for me to say" She explained to him.

"That was a stupid question," Steve said shaking his head.

"If you think you were an asshole then you should apologise to Nancy, she's already having a rough time given the fact Barb is missing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to deal with an argument at a time like this," She told him, trying to help, in some way at least, she wasn't sure what to say, but this was the best she could think of.

"You're right, I was an asshole. You know you give great advice"

"Thanks, well I'll get going now, I'll see you later Steve," She says waving goodbye at him as she starts to walk away.

"Yeah, I'll see you later Einstein" He adds softly smiling at her as he walks back into the school.

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reposts are appreciated!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington romance #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x female reader #stranger things 1 #stranger things season 1 #steve harrington season 1 #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #a chemical reaction called love fanfic #a chemical reaction called love

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runninriot · 11 months ago

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no reason to hide

written for @steddie-week day 1 | prompt: secret relationship

rated: t | wc: 4.5k | tags: Max POV, Max & Eddie friendship, Max & Steve Friendship, Steve and Eddie are keeping secrets, coming out, post Vecna, everybody lives | complete fic on ao3

The first time she notices something strange is going on between Eddie and Steve, is when Max wakes up in the middle of the night from one of those ghastly dreams that have been haunting her since the whole Vecna fiasco went down.

She does what she always does when she can’t fall back asleep - goes to sit on the steps outside of her home to listen to the familiar sounds of the trailer park, looking at the sky, the stars and the moon, reminding herself that she’s back in the real world. That the Upside Down and all its monsters are a memory of the past.

It’s been almost a year and things have finally gone back to how they were. Well, mostly.

Sure, those nights where the monsters come crawling back into her subconscious are draining sometimes, but after everything that happened to her, nightmares, a walking stick, and glasses are a small price to pay. She could’ve paid a much higher one, could’ve lost it all. She’s fine. And at least the nightmares are a burden they all share.

Her friends have them too, those restless nights. And even if that doesn’t make it better, the fact that they are in this together makes it easier, at least.

Max knows she can always count on them – her now-again-boyfriend Lucas and the stupid but lovable dorks Dustin and Mike. Even El and Will, who went back to California, are always just one phone call away.

She has Steve, who – while Nancy and Robin went off to college – didn’t leave.

He’s still here, still taking care of them in his annoyingly loving way, even though they don’t need him to be their protector anymore, technically.

She’d never say it out loud, would rather eat her own tongue than to admit it, but to know that he’s part of her life is kind of... comforting. Because he’s graduated from babysitter to friend long ago, has proven time and again that he’s a good guy with a big heart. Max likes him a lot, can understand why Dustin was always so drawn to him.

And then, there’s Eddie.

Before being caught in a war against evil and nearly walking into the light at the end of the tunnel together, she never really cared much for him at all. (And no, she did not have a very stupid, very tiny crush on him when she learned about him playing guitar in this awesome band. Anyone who suggests otherwise can talk it out with her fist, okay?!)

She had often wondered how much truth was behind all the rumours, the Satanic Freak allegations. Because while he obviously liked to cause trouble every now and then, he always seemed... nice. A little boisterous, maybe, but never violent or evil.

And then she got to know him when they were trying to prove his innocence while being caught in their final battle against evil, and realised how much they had in common.

How Eddie, like her, wears a mask to protect his vulnerable pieces inside. Carrying the burden of a broken home and too much pent-up anger on his shoulders.

Max sees a version of herself in Eddie, and seeing how far he’s come – even if he himself doesn’t think he has – is encouraging, in a way.

She never told anyone, but out of everyone, Eddie might have played the biggest part in her recovery.

When she opened her eyes for the first time after being in a coma, the first blurry face she saw wasn’t Lucas or Steve or even her own mother.

No. It was Eddie.

Half his body in bandages, leaning heavy on his crutches holding him upright where he was standing beside her hospital bed, smiling down at her, which looked painful because of the stitches on his left cheek, but it was warm and friendly and honest.

And in that moment, when the memories came back and the world came crushing down, Max was glad it was him that watched her fall apart. Because with Eddie, she didn’t feel the need to pretend that she was fine. He let her cry and wince in pain without commenting on it, just took her hand – no words of pity, no promises of false hopes, just a tight squeeze of her hand in silent support.

Their friendship evolved from there, got even stronger when they were both fighting their way through physical therapy, from frustrating setbacks to miraculous accomplishments.

He’s annoying sometimes, like a brother, but he’s the kind of friend that you love to fight with because you know they’ll never hold a grudge; Eddie's friendship is unconditional and Max cherishes that more than she'd ever tell him.

Eddie, like her, finds it hard to sleep sometimes. So, more times than not, when she goes to sit on the steps in the middle of the night, she finds him outside his own trailer – smoking in silence or listening to music with his headphones on.

They don’t usually talk, just share a few moments together in peace until their minds have calmed enough for them to get ready to conquer another day.

This is why Max doesn’t startle when she hears the familiar squeak of the Munson’s trailer door. Only when a car door gets slammed close, does she look up.

Weirdly enough, it isn’t Eddie who’s going for a ride. It isn’t his van that slowly turns and rolls out of the driveway.

It’s Steve’s car; there’s no doubt about it. She knows that car better than Steve likes to be reminded of.

What the hell is he doing at Eddie’s place at 2 in the morning?, Max wonders, worries that maybe something is wrong.

But moments later, the trailer door opens again and Eddie steps out, dressed in his pajama pants, lighting a cigarette like he always does. He seems calm, happy. Not at all like something bad has happened.

Until he notices her and his eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open with the cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

“Max! How- how long have you been out here?”

She doesn’t exactly know why she doesn’t tell the truth but something about the way Eddie looks at her tells Max, he might not want her to know about his nightly visitor.

“Just came out like, maybe a second before you did,” she lies, watching his shoulders drop as the tension in his body eases.

“Oh, uh, okay. Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna talk?”

“Nah, just needed some fresh air. You?”

“I- I’m good. Just, uh, just couldn’t sleep.”

They sit there for a while, both awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other, before Max can’t take it anymore, says her goodnight and goes back inside.

There is probably a good explanation for it all. Maybe Steve couldn’t sleep, too. Maybe he went to Eddie for some weed? (Don’t act so surprised. She might just be a teen but she’s not stupid, okay?)

Whatever it is, Max will never know because going by the way Eddie reacted when he saw her, she’s sure he doesn’t want to be questioned about it.

It’s fine. It’s none of her business anyway.

And Max forgets about it entirely until something strange happens again a few weeks later...

keep reading

#steddieweek2024 #steddie #steddie fic #max mayfield #eddie munson #steve harrington

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sofa-king-lame · 8 months ago

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Snippet Sunday

Ok so it's technically Monday here in Sydney (5:20pm lol) but it's still Sunday somewhere, right? Maybe not. Whatever.

Tagged by @playinginthunderstorms and @semperama

This is a snippet from Eddie's POV for the Buck 1.0 fic, tentatively titled 'I Save Myself, I'm Saving You' (from the song 'Deeper Water' by Deadstar).

------

So he downloads Tinder and starts swiping with Shannon on his right, providing sometimes helpful sometimes sarcastic commentary.

“He’s kinda cute,” she muses, swiping right for him on a profile of a guy boasting that he can lift his couch with one arm.

“Kinda full of himself,” Eddie snorts, but is maybe not so secretly very much into the thought that this guy could probably pick him up and manhandle him, so. They match and the guy messages Eddie immediately.

Max: I could definitely lift you. Pin you against a wall and fuck you until you can’t walk for a week. Sound like something you’d be into?

And, well. Maybe eventually. But at this point Eddie had only been with Shannon and even though he was confident he was very gay, he had zero experience with guys beyond experimenting on his own with some toys he’d ordered online. And this seemed like too big of a first step, so he ignores the message.

“Can you ask him if he’s bi, at least? I could be into that,” Shannon says, trying to pluck the phone out of Eddie’s hand. He swats her away and goes back to swiping, matching next with a guy who looks buff enough to snap Eddie in half. His message to Eddie is just as sexually aggressive as the last one, so Eddie ignores him as well.

“Jesus, Shannon. This is a bit much for me, I’m not looking to get split in half,” Eddie sighs, putting his phone down in front of him. Shannon snatches it up quickly, continuing to swipe.

“Just one more match. If he’s a bust too then we can give it a rest for the night,” she argues. “Ooh ok, look at this guy. Tall, cute, blonde, goes by ‘Firehose’. And a very tame first message...messages. Chat to him.”

Firehose: Well hello Eddie, mid-20s

Firehose: What brings you to Tinder on this fine Wednesday evening

Firehose: You look like you could use a drink

EddieD: Honestly, I’m not sure. My ex-wife talked me into it and I’m wondering if I’ve made the right choice. I could definitely use a drink, though. You free now?

“Shannon! I can’t go out now, aren’t you leaving soon? It’s my night with Chris, I need to take him to school in the morning,” Eddie huffs, taking his phone back. Shannon laughs and Eddie hates her a little (except he doesn’t, not at all. Now that they’re friends again after all the divorce dust has settled, he loves her like he did in the early days. Which, he realises now, is as a friend).

“I can stay here tonight as long as you’re back in time to take him to school in the morning, I have to open the store at eight.”

And, well. Ok.

----

Tagging @smilingbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @disasterbuck @veronae-buddie @hotshotsxyz

#911 #buddie #eddie diaz #shannon diaz #shannon and eddie bestieism #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #evan buckley #buck 1.0

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thewertsearch · 11 months ago

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Ask Comp 01/07

Anonymous asked:i think youre the first liveblogger ive seen to actually remember that orphaner dualscar was eridan’s flarping name?

Mindfang clearly describes the Serkets, so I wonder if Dualscar says anything about the Amporas?

Eridan's greatest enemy does have a duality theme, after all - and he was certainly scarred when the guy stole his crush >:)

@captorations asked:i have terrible news regarding homestuck and the good place: https://x.com/nbcthegoodplace/status/1039908767763259392?lang=en not to mention that. well. the two share more than you've encountered yet. it's very likely not a coincidence. have fun! oh and. re: my ongoing campaign of pointing out the homestuck ancestry of tlt characters. please compare aradia's "i am very much alive and i intend to stay that way" with dulcinea's "i'm not in the river and i won't ever be again"

...oh my god.

On reflection, this makes a lot of sense. Homestuck's fandom is pretty large, and some of its members were bound to be involved in the production of mainstream media. Still, it's wild to see a Homestuck reference - or, technically, a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference - on the official Twitter for a show this big.

And Aradia does have a lot in common with Dulcinea, doesn't she? For one thing, they didn't really start influencing the plot until after they died.

Anonymous asked: Not really important anymore, but looking at what Gamzee has in his Strife Deck, it doesn’t look like he has any ranged options: he’s got the bowling pins, what appear to be a discarded sickle and lance from Karkat and Tavros respectively, what I’m PRETTY SURE is a whip of some sort, and the Zillyhoo hammer. The closest to a ranged weapon in that stack is the whip, or maybe the pins if he’s willing to throw them, but neither seem like they’d work very well against Vriska. Barring some secret power or other plot twist, I think Gamzee would genuinely be the underdog in that matchup. (Which feels weird, because Gamzee’s been mutating into a slasher villain while Vriska’s still very much an antihero protagonist. Usually the power balance is the other way around with those archetypes!)

On the face of it, Gamzee didn't seem to have great odds in that fight - but it's hard to know for sure with this pesky Bard. His Strife Deck contains plenty of cards we haven't seen, and whatever he did to the Black King is still shrouded in mystery. Everything's just so uncertain with him.

@mimescantscream asked: I've really been holding back all this time, but now that we've met the Grand-highblood, it really is extra painful to see a Gamzee who was once incredibly loving of his friends (despite their constant ridicule) end up falling down the path that fate seems to have pre-ordained for him. Was he truly always meant to repeat echoes of the past? Could things ever have gone differently for him?

Yeah, I've been having similar thoughts. His PoV seemed completely sincere, so I don't think his original personality was a fabrication, or anything. I think there is a part of Gamzee that cares about his friends - and maybe even he wants it back.

@jade-harley-real asked: […] I want a rant on the bad doctor from you pls pls pls

Scratch is straight up the scariest character in Homestuck.

What's he up to now? Hard to say since we're not telling him what to do. Guardians can never be told what to do.

The aura of menace he's cultivated is incredible, especially considering he barely even moves. He's playing the entire cast like a fiddle, armed with nothing but a typewriter and his own supercharged brain - and there's no doubt in my mind that his confidence isn't a mask. He knows he's going to win in the end.

English is coming. He's basically already here.

@elkian asked: I'll probably never be a Vriska FAN, but I gotta admit, she really never had a chance, what with the only adults in her life being: a trollvorous spider 1 missed meal away from eating her, Marquise "I do what I want" Mindfang, and Doc Scratch. Some role models! @manorinthewoods asked: So, now that Mindfang has been revealed, here's a question for you: how much of Vriska's Vriskyness is because she's Vriska, how much is because of Mindfang, how much is because of her lusus, and how much is because of Alternia in general? ~LOSS (20/6/24)

This is why I don't think she'd be like this on Earth. At this point, it's obvious that none of her Incidents were the result of her personality as it naturally arose.

I mean, look how anti-Aradiacide she was! They weren't even really friends!

Anonymous asked: ‘AA: there are all sorts of friends to meet AA: ones you already know and ones you dont’ I mean…couldn’t she just be referring to various doomed selves? I don’t see why the dream bubbles would just be confined to the alpha timeline seeing as the furthest ring is weird in terms of time and space

I was assuming that only Alpha Timeline deaths would be preserved by the Bubbles, but you're right - I'm not sure that was a reasonable assumption.

The Horrorterrors seem to eschew the concept of the Alpha Timeline. and, they've coordinated with both Doomed and Alpha versions of Rose and Dave. Plus, yeah, there is no time in the Ring, so timelines are probably meaningless there. Why would it only interface with the Alpha?

If the Bubbles do preserve doomed souls, then we might also run into the John who died to Typheus, and the Jade he couldn't save. That's a pair of ghosts I'd be very interested to meet.

Anonymous asked: If every Aradia comes back from every doomed timeline, the number would double each time, so you could get over a thousand of her with only ten doomed timelines.

Fair point- although, if an already doomed Aradia went back in time again, she'd be double doomed. Is that even possible? Would she die twice as quickly?

@mhafanlol2000 asked: Your issues with quirks and speech-to-text are pretty simple to explain. If a troll were to speak into a non-modified speech-to-text program, it would output text with their quirk. Because they, quite literally, speak in their quirk. Terezi probably isnt actually saying “YOU H4V3 LOST TH3 G4M3”, each number at a time, but the vibes are definitely there. I don’t know, this is hard to describe if you don’t inherently get it.

I think, jokes aside, it is indeed about the vibes.

In the troll intro pages, you get told a little about how each troll talks, and I think that's how we're supposed to translate their quirks to an audible medium.

Anonymous asked: i think ppl in the fandom have over time kinda built up a like, generally separate understanding of quadrants from how theyre described in the "official" explanation. which is like, not representative of how these terms are used in homestuck, but probably more useful for describing Good relationships that Do Not Suck. like basically making moirails equivalent to being queer platonic partners, making blackrom more about having a healthy fun rivalry, that kinda stuff.

It's funny, actually - I don't think I've encountered a single asker who accepts the quadrants as they're originally described.

The main issue is that, with the possible exception of matespritship, we haven't seen a single troll relationship with reflects the infodump's explanation of the quadrants. I think Hussie might just have jumped the gun a little when dropping it.

Anonymous asked: Shoutout to Karkat poking his friends in the background! Terezi (crying over Dave) and now Soloux (talking to Terezi). Karkat isn’t sure what the right response is but wants to be included! Reminds me of actual cats, just putting a paw on you for no discernible reason. @manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to note that Karkat poking Terezi's tears is the same sprite (and same 'poooke'!) as Karkat poking Sollux's burnt-out eyesockets. ~LOSS (12/6/24)

My man just likes poking.

@alicesoinions asked: not much to say just wanted to say I really enjoy your liveblog!!

Glad you're enjoying!

I've actually got a few new followers recently. Maybe I'm showing up in people's recommendations?

@heliotropopause asked: Dream bubbles are pretty neat, eh? Neat enough to inspire half of HtN, I'd bet.

…wait.

Oh my god, you're right. It's literally a River Bubble. They're both located in afterlives, for crying out loud!

Anonymous asked: Wanted to thank your liveblog for reminding me of a lot that I had flat out missed in canon, due to not putting it together or just reading too quickly. Most recently and notably on my mind right now, is that Feferi is the one who set up the dreambubbles!!! I had always thought that they were just a part of the world that readers didn’t know about yet, like how we weren’t yet introduced to Alternia and it’s moons until act 5. This went right over my head and it has me absolutely REELING (fishing pun included just for fef!!)

Feferi truly is the MVP.

I wonder what happened to dead Players before the Bubbles?

They're certainly not the only type of afterlife in the multiverse. Alternia has at least two types of undead, which implies that the Players are very, very lucky to have retained their personhood postmortem. Imagine this was what Feferi looked like in Jade's dream.

Anonymous asked: Knowing sollux, he probably already had coded his tech to recognize if his speech ever changed, and gave himself a different typing quirk for it, long ago. Not because he knew or thought it would happen, but because he thought it would be a fun coding project ((I know nothing about coding))

And yet, you somehow know exactly how we think.

Anonymous asked: Something I hadn’t really thought about, until I started reading this liveblog, is how much VRISKA ((autocorrect decided to caps that and I’m leaving it in lol)) was manipul8ted into a lot of her violence. Scratch pushed her towards vengeance against Aradia, and she didn’t want to go through with it. Did VRISKA ever tell anyone how much of her live she spent resisting these forces, or even really acknowledge it? She didn’t hide Spidermom, and arguably her need to kill other trolls was to prevent herself from being killed. BUT on the other hand, VRISKA voice would make it sound like a compliment “I almost didn’t kill you why don’t you appreciate me!!!!!!!!”

The thing is, VRISKA probably felt a lot of social pressure not to tell people she was coerced into her crimes. That would reveal that she was reluctant to kill, which is the opposite of what the Empire wants.

@manorinthewoods asked: You could have written a great Homestuck if you'd been Hussie. I think your style, if translated from reacting-to-comic to making-comic, would work great with what Homestuck is, and could have made a better product. I think you'd make a cerebral Homestuck, which would have been cool to read, except I would have botched reading it like I botched reading Homestuck in our Alpha Timeline. ~LOSS (11/6/24)

Thank you! I've tried to write before, actually, but whenever I reread my stories, they come off as esoteric, stilted and a little hard to follow. It's not an insurmountable problem, of course, and I really need to take a writing workshop at some point.

I'd love to make a webcomic, too, but my art also leaves a lot to be desired. I can adapt sprites just fine, but original drawings are hard, guys. Did anyone else know about this?

Anonymous asked: i counted just now, and only like 24 out of all 54 paradox space comics have zero spoilers. some of them are certainly more substantial than others (e.g. i counted ones that include jade’s consorts that you havent seen yet as spoilers) but a lot of them have Very Big Spoilers

It would have been awfully messy. I'm probably just going to read it once I've reached the Gigapause of 2013, and no longer need to worry about spoilers.

@bladekindeyewear asked: “Nepeta wasn't trying to pacify Equius, nor did she seem to be fulfilling any rigidly defined 'role' in his life. They just came off as very good friends, and their relationship was much better for it.” Well, maybe we ought to look at it through the lens of real relationships between friends? Once a healthy dynamic and boundaries are established, perhaps Moirails stabilize as long as they’re together.

That's a good way to interpret moirallegence - although, it does raise an issue with the quadrant that I'll be discussing on its own post, once I've finished the comp. There's no point in prehashing what I'm about to say, so I'll see you there!

Anonymous asked: karkats message didn't go through because of trollians narrative awareness feature, where it'll display something different in service of one of the several "all"-seeing entities, of which the reader is one <3 watsonian and doylist explanations are kissing with tongue

Since the fourth wall is an actual, physical piece of technology in this world, this isn't even that far-fetched!

@sashonya asked: So, as the session's timers continues to count down, what do you think will happen after The Scratch?

Beyond 'the session ends', it's difficult to say for sure. I think the two most likely possibilities are that the kids start exploring other sessions, or travel to a location completely outside the current scope of the comic. I am, of course, hoping for both.

@ericvilas asked: "I still believe that out of all the trolls, Karkat’s traits were featured the most prominently in humanity" yeah, I guess even humans aren't free from the effects of carcinization

CG: THERE IS ONLY ONE STEP. CG: AND IT IS ME.

#asks #full liveblog #act 5.2

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curligurl0896 · 1 month ago

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I'm starting this post before reading the whole thing this time. Hopefully, I won't be late again, lol. (Edit: Turned out to be super late, partially bc I was late finishing the book itself). Don't know why I haven't thought of making the post as I read, instead of after the fact, before now, but anyway. It's Megamorphs time!

To start off I wanna say that as a kid reading this series I only read the odd Megamorphs books-- aka this one and MM3. The "Rachel gets amnesia" plot line was the one I most distinctly remembered in regards to this particular book.

Speaking of Rachel getting amnesia, Tobias casually talking about seeing an eagle getting mobbed by jays, having NO CLUE that the eagle in question was Rachel.... what's the literary term? Dramatic irony? Yeah, that. It's killing me here.

Also shame on Marco for using flea powder to bribe Ax into busting into a party he was absolutely NOT invited to.

While I'd argue that putting a candy bar in a pool and making people think it's poop is not, in fact, beneath the maturity level of the average ten-year old boy, it isn't enough to make Darlene forgive you, Marco. Sorry.

Not Jake telling Cassie that Marco has gotten a little more mature since the incident, only for Marco to prove him horrendously wrong like two seconds later.

The sheer self absorption of Marco thought speaking his own name to Darlene bc he's mad that people aren't talking about him at a party he wasn't even invited to. Like maybe it's bc I'm so much older and more mature but I can't even muster up half the energy to care about whether or not people are saying things about me these days. I could never.

Speaking of poor Darlene, imagine her finding out after the war that her house got destroyed because Marco couldn't accept not being invited to a party. Like yeah, he didn't know that a living tornado would show up when he morphed but still. He literally wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.

I can't help but wonder if there was anyone who was reading these books as they came out who got to the point where we get the first glimpse of Ax's point of view in the series and promptly lost their minds. Kid me definitely would have-- in fact I'm pretty sure kid me had lost my mind upon discovering that there were books from Ax's point of view.

Ax seeing a bear and immediately being like "Rachel has a bear morph,that might be her" makes Tobias not recognizing her in eagle morph earlier just that much more egregious IMHO. Sure, Ax was specifically looking for Rachel and Tobias wasn't, but still. Here's his gf getting straight up mobbed and yet it never even occurs to him that it could possibly be her, let alone that maybe he should help her, he's just chilling on a thermal watching like "lawl sucks to be you bro". He doesn't even stick around long enough to see her try to demorph.

Ax feeling bad about feeling terror coming face to face with freaking Visser Three, like he ain't just a kid facing the guy who murdered his war hero older brother. Like he ain't just a lil baby. Ugh, it hurts.

Visser Three managed to capture one Andalite, and that's all the proof he needs that it's been Andalites this whole time. Those fools that think that humans are involved don't know what they're talking about. Obviously Andalites would NEVER stoop to working with lowly humans.

Really like that this thing's from Saturn, we don't really imagine life existing anywhere else in our solar system, with the exception of Mars, but it's interesting to think about what could exist on planets that we think of as otherwise inhospitable to life.

That moment when Marco makes a jab at Tobias but it actually ends up helping them figure out this thing's deal

ABC quote of the week bc this will never NOT be comedy gold:

Yayyy! Rachel's back!

So I guess the Veleek is like a Portuguese Man o' war, right? Technically many organisms buy functions as one?

You know, at some point I was like, "Man, is it just me or do we hardly get Tobias's pov at all in this book? I can't even remember the last time we had a Tobias chapter." And then came that part where it was revealed that Tobias was asleep for most of the action. LOL. It makes total sense that he wasn't nearly as involved, since his lack of ability to morph at this point makes him basically nonexistent as far as the Veleek is concerned.

And now, we finish off with the start of a new trend: the Animorphs solving their problems by throwing whales at them! (Well, specifically Cassie in whale morph, but you get the idea.)

Now if you'll excuse me guys, I'm gonna go try and read the next book and post about it before this week is up too.

#animorphs #animorphs book club #MM1 #the andalite's gift

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hulloitsdani · 6 months ago

Note

I have another thought bunny or rat and it involved lif from book 3

So assuming from book 3 we know that his summoner die being Kiran fire emblem heroes or whoever you name the summoner do you think it's oddly suspicious that we never even fight the undead version of the summoner other than the fact that the summoner feature would be in book 4 but not counting the meta reason to me it doesn't make sense that hel the literal goddess of the death can't make the summoner rise from the dead because to me it will be good to mess with alfonse and give lif more of a chain to kill the askr tro to fullfil lifs contract

It's almost like lif thought his summoner is dead but for all we know his summoner could be back at their own world alive in some pocket dimension or whatever

Something to think about

*cracks knuckles* Book 3 rambles let’s go.

So, to answer your question, no. I don’t think it’s particularly odd. In text, it’s implied that Líf and Thrasir technically haven’t “died.” They were the sole survivors of the blood rite, made their deal with Hel, and she has run them both ragged ever since. She hasn’t granted them rest. The only time they truly achieve it is when our heroes finally put them out of their misery and THEN Hel raises their empty bodies (found in Ch13 Part 3). Our heroes kill them once more and then their torment is finally over.

This does raise a question however; what happened to everyone else when the blood rite was activated? Does Hel not have control over them? Well, on an in-story level, I imagine the magic rite used to create a weapon powerful enough to kill Hel wouldn’t also give Hel more power. It is death she cannot use, because all those souls are being used to power the weapon. It’s why it killed everyone and everything around it. It needed them as fuel. This would explain why Kiran might not exactly be available— in activating the blood rite, they were killed by it first.

But then, on a writing level, each season of FEH has a limited run time and they only include so much. By opening that particular Pandora’s box, you would be calling for answers for everyone in the cast. If this world’s Kiran is still here, even if it’s just their empty body, then where is Anna? Where is Sharena? Hell, is Bruno around? This is not a bad thing per se, but it would require a lot more words, more art/resources, and potentially snipe the effectiveness of how crippling alone this Alfonse and Veronica are. In my opinion, it’s a smart decision to leave it as is. All we need to know is that they’re dead, they all failed, and Líf and Thrasir are DESPERATE to fix this. It’s a lot more sad that way! Which is good! No need to hold back punches in the season about death.

Now, my personal brand of analysis loves treating Kiran as less of an avatar and more as an individual. Our pov character being the silliest little guy brings me joy. So, one of the reasons why I love thinking about Líf’s Askr is because the remains we find imply a Greek tragedy chain of events that culminated in Kiran of all people having to activate the blood rite. Based on what we know about these characters, that’s the last person they’d EVER want pulling the lever on that trolly problem. It’s not a fair ask! Kiran was ripped from their home, summoned to an alien world, asked to fight in wars on Askr’s behalf (they have never fought anyone in their life), and is now being asked to sacrifice themself and millions in order to maybe kill a goddess of death? No! That’s not fair! None of this is, but that’s a step too far. Asking for them to spill their blood in this way for a country that is not their own would be cruel. A blatant abuse of their generosity. These are not the types of a characters who would do that. I wouldn’t be surprised if despite the circumstances, there might have been an effort to find a way to send Kiran back once it was clear how screwed everyone was. No one wants to see them hurt. Everyone, but Alfonse in particular, makes it their mission to protect Kiran. So, for things to end this way, it would imply a lot of people being dead and million things having gone horrifically wrong.

It would imply Kiran, scared and alone in a Emblian blood temple, having to make an awful choice.

#feh Ted talk #A cute little mini one for the soul!#Man I should draw that scene in the blood temple. Twisting the knife on that sounds really fun.#feh #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem #feh kiran #kiran #feh summoner #fe kiran #fe summoner #ask answered #fe lif #FE Thrasir

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quill-firefly · 5 months ago

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Did I Ever Really Know You? (SG TFOne Fanfic) - Chapter 5

Written right before Christmas Eve hehe, technically posted on Christmas Eve for me but ya know lmao

Anyway, since this chapter is completely in Dee's POV, this is what is going on in Starscream and Bee's POV. Optimus doesn't get a POV because this ain't about him.

Starscream: Pls just break up with this guy omg Bee: Pls just break up with this guy omg

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“Pax.”

“...I’ll allow it this time.”

There was an awkwardness in the air. Not hostility, they hadn’t reached that point yet. Dee hoped they wouldn’t but the lack of trust between both parties was quite clear. If he believed in the kindness of Primus, he may have prayed that everyone got out of this meeting unscathed.

“Is he necessary?” A sneer appeared on the Prime’s faceplate, and Dee didn’t need to turn his helm to know who Optimus was referring to. “You said you’d come alone.”

“I did.” And he had. After the stunt he had pulled by running away the first time, Starscream had been understandably more cautious that he couldn’t pull another one. Dee wouldn’t be surprised if the mech had intercepted Dee’s message to Optimus, even if Starscream was honorable. “You said the same.”

He turned his blue optics to the mech hidden in Optimus’ shadow. His gaze softened as he took in that familiar white and purple frame. They had only really known each other for a short amount of time - nothing like the bond he had with Pax - but Dee couldn’t help but be glad at the opportunity to see Bee again. He wished Elita was here, even if the femme might pummel him. He would have loved to see her again too.

“Hi, Bee.” He said softly, his vocoder cracking a little. The other mech must hold quite the grudge against him. Although the mech never showed it, Dee knew how lonely Bee must have been before they’d taken him with them. Cycles in Sub-Level 50 would have done that to any mech. Dee didn’t need to have met Bee’s “friends” - Steve and A-A-Tron - to see that.

He took Bee’s silent nod as confirmation that the mech was furious. He wouldn’t usually pass up an opportunity to talk.

“Dismiss him, and I’ll tell Bee to back down.” Optimus gritted out. Dee turned his gaze back to him, and the other mech quickly relaxed. Even now, he still demanded Dee’s attention. “We’ll talk. Just the two of us. The way it was meant to be.”

‘The way it should be,’ was left unsaid.

Dee turned his helm, pleading with his blue optics at the High Guard leader to leave - or at least to move away. There wasn’t any danger. Dee had insisted he and Optimus met at a good distance away from both the High Guard base and Iacon. They were on neutral ground. There wouldn’t be any opportunity for either of them to forcefully take the other hostage… At least, Dee hoped Optimus hadn’t lost himself enough to attempt that.

Starscream’s optics narrowed before transforming and flying a good distance away. Behind him, he could hear Bee’s tires scratch against the ground before turning faint.

Dee let out a small vent. He had prepared for this moment, but after many nights of uneasy recharge, a part of him almost wanted to run away. He turned his helm, meeting… yellow optics. His spark softened and he slowly approached Pax - and this was Pax. Even with the change in frame, even if the Prime towered over him, Dee knew his Pax. Dee knew those yellow optics.

“I always knew you were wasted as a miner. We both were.” Tentatively, they both sat down on the ground. If Dee closed his optics, he could pretend they were back in the mines or on the roof, sitting together. Pax raised a servo to the back of his helm, an almost sheepish look on his faceplate as his optics turned to Dee’s new arm. “If you want your old arm back…”

“No. Keep it.” The thought disturbed Dee but he had a strange feeling that Pax should probably have something of his to keep him company. Even if it was his old arm. He suppressed a shudder. “I cannot say being Prime suits you.”

Those optics flashed red, but calmed. Pax wouldn’t fall for his bait, and honestly Dee was surprised by his own bluntness. Then again, he had spent astroweeks with the High Guard. He must have picked up some habits.

“I cannot say the cannon suits you either, Dee. If you had proven yourself to me and to Primus, that cannon wouldn’t be a separate weapon from you.” The jab was expected, but it almost sounded forced. Pax was frustrated by the turn of the conversation. Those yellow optics barely even glanced at the cannon that Dee had brought with him (not that he had wanted to bring it, but Starscream and him made a deal). Pax was only reaching for an insult. “He granted Bee and Elita a T-cog. He blessed the mechs who pledged allegiance to me, the one and true Prime—”

“You had my allegiance the day we first met, Pax.” It was more than that. They both knew that. Dee felt more than a simple allegiance.

After astroweeks without Pax, Dee had come to understand that Pax had known. He had always known what Dee felt. The fact that he had blinded himself about it nearly made him furious, but mostly he wanted to cry. Cry at how foolish he had been. Cry that Pax had understood Dee’s feelings and had strung him along. Cry that Pax had known and had encouraged it, out of a sick enjoyment. Dee understood that his friendship with Pax had been real but Pax had enjoyed playing with his feelings - the ones he couldn’t return.

“But you won’t have my submission, Prime.”

He expected the other mech to turn furious now. Instead, the Prime surprised him by reaching out to hold his servo. For the first time in astroweeks, Dee could feel Pax’s warmth again.

“I don’t want your submission, Dee.” The other mech let out a weak and shaky vent. It surprised him. Dee had only ever seen Pax so vulnerable once. The day they were taught the truth.

“Then what do you want, Pax?”

“You.”

Dee could feel his processor nearly overheat at the word. How many recharge periods had he spent hoping to get an inkling of this?

Surprise quickly turned to indignation as he realized what was happening.

“Pax. I am tired of this sick joke. I am not the fool of a mech I once was. I know. I know.” The Prime was crazy if he thought Dee would fall for it again. Pax had a better chance (not that Dee would have ever agreed!) appealing to their old friendship than to the feelings that Dee held for him. “I have spent every rotational period after you banished me going through our relationship. I don’t doubt that we were friends, maybe one day we could have been Amica Endura, but do not pretend that you didn’t know that I felt more for you. Do not play me for a fool. Not again.”

The other mech’s optics were wide, intake agape as Dee finally let out the torrent of hurt he had felt. He had been in denial. He had even bargained to himself that Pax returned his feelings. He’d come to accept that he’d been nothing but foolish. Forgive him if this was perhaps the first time he’d snapped at Pax, but he was not about to let the other mech encourage feelings that would never be returned.

“Dee… what?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Pax.” Dee scoffed, before softening as his optics gazed into hurt yellow. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he still loved this aft of a mech. “You have always sought knowledge. May it be through the archives, or through observation of other mechs. You love to learn. Everything and anything. When you were not in the archives, you were learning about those around you. You were learning about me too. I know you know that I loved you.”

Dee let out a choked laugh. “Why, Pax? Our friendship was real, so why did you have to play with my feelings? I would have taken the sparkbreak. It would have passed eventually. Our friendship would have remained as it was. That kind of love would have been enough—”

“You loved me?” There was shock in the other mech’s voice. “Loved?”

Dee felt a tension in the air. A danger that he had stumbled into. His processor ran through what he had said. He didn’t see what was wrong. What threat was the Prime sensing that would cause him to act differently now?

He tried to untangle his digits from the other mech’s servo, but the grip had tightened - Dee could almost hear the metal of his own servo creak.

Ah, he was still pretending.

Dee didn’t understand why Pax was using this strategy. Was the Prime so eager to play with his feelings and then reject him?

“Yes, Pax. I loved you.” Dee gave the other mech a disappointed look. “Don’t pretend to be innocent, I won’t defend you from this. You—”

It surprised him when Pax let go of his servo, only to grab the back of his helm, preventing his escape as the other mech leaned forward.

“I’m sorry.” He felt Pax’s warmth all over his faceplate. His blue optics stared deep into the yellow. “But you know I never accept what I’m given.”

He didn’t even get the chance to feel the sparkbreak at the rejection (and here he thought he’d finally accepted that all he could have ever had with Pax was friendship) before he was being closer into—

Oh.

They were venting hard by the time Pax finally let go of his helm.

Dee was trying to process it despite how he could feel his entire faceplate and processor overheating.

Pax wouldn’t have kissed him just to prove a point, right?!

The other mech hadn’t moved away yet, their faceplates still close together that Dee was nearly scared that Pax would steal the limited air in his vents again.

“Would you still say ‘loved,’ Dee?” A cheeky grin crossed Pax’s faceplate, and Dee thought back to all those times he’d seen it - usually after Pax had done another stupid scheme of his.

“Why did you…?”

A servo reached up to caress the side of his helm, yellow optics closing.

“I admit it was only a game at the start. I wanted to see how far it would go until you realized. You were so foolishly easy to trick. Always so willing to follow. Always so willing to be mistreated.” There was a hint of anger in Pax’s voice at the word. “It was supposed to be a game, then I realized I cared for you - and how much I hated that you always accepted the way things are. I hated that you chose to be a miner. I hated that you believed in Sentinel despite everything he did. I hated that you never tried to pursue me even though you love me - because you do love me and you always will.”

Dee couldn’t find the right words to respond to that.

Then Pax let out a small smile, “Mostly, I hate that I only realized I love you when I lost you.”

Dee let out a sharp vent. This really wasn’t a sick joke.

Still, he felt sick.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Dee. We could have everything we ever wanted.”

He dreaded what was next.

“Come back to Iacon. Let us build the future. We would rule together.” Pax gave him another cheeky smile. No, not Pax. Prime gave him that smile. “I’ll even let you be a mathematics professor on the side. I always thought you’d be good at teaching sparklings and younglings—”

“No, Pax.” Dee leaned away. No, he pulled away, standing back on his pedes.

He knew his sudden retreat would make Starscream fly back. Optimus following after him would alert Bee into returning too.

“What? Don’t tell me you—”

“Maybe we loved—” A quick glare made Dee rephrase, “Maybe we love each other, but I won’t stand by and let you reinforce the suffering Sentinel caused.”

Those yellow optics turned red. The peace was gone. Despite himself, Dee could feel his servo tighten around the cannon he had brought with him.

“Pax, please. Listen to me. It doesn’t have to be this way. I know you were chosen to be Prime, and I… I understand that you were angry at what Sentinel had done… but you cannot perpetuate the pain he and the Primes have done. We could build the future together. We could still free every Cybertronian from the cycle of suffering. No more tyranny. No more ruling over every mech. Stand down. Let the people be free—”

“I freed us. I freed all of Iacon. Soon, I’ll free us from the threat of the Quintessons.” Optimus loomed over him, servos clenched by his side. “Under my rule, every mech is equal.”

“‘Under your rule, every mech is equal,’ do you hear yourself? Don’t you see what you’ve done? How much of Iacon have you left in shambles? How many dissenters have you killed, Prime? How many more would you kill to stay in power?” Dee could feel his own voice raising.

The last time he had seen their home, Optimus’ followers were in the process of tearing down every remnant of Sentinel’s influence. How many innocent mechs had lost their lives because they refused to follow what Optimus had demanded of them? Optimus had killed Sentinel to secure power. He would kill to keep it. And Primus would reward him for it.

“The Primes are chosen to rule over every Cybertronian. We are chosen by Primus himself.” Optimus was daring him to challenge this statement. “I’m allowing you to rule by my side even if you are—”

“Even if I’m what, Prime?” Dee challenged him back.

Clearly the Prime had enough self-restraint not to bite the bait. Dee had to give him that.

He shook his helm, “The Iacon you envision, it’s not what I want. You wish to rule over every mech. The sole decision maker, free to use your power to quell dissenters and heretics. You’re no better than Sentinel, no, you’re no better than the old Primes. Warmongers and murderers.”

“I know what is best.” The Prime growled out through gritted denta. “Primus chose me, you don’t know what is best for Iacon, Dee.”

“I know that I won’t go with you.” He began to back away, feeling assured that Starscream was behind him. The mech had been right to distrust the Prime. Dee was glad that the High Guard leader had followed him. He had been a fool to think that he could convince Pax. “Cybertronians should know the freedom which is their right!”

“Oh, Dee. I told you. We are free.” The Prime’s smile held such malice that Dee shuddered. “Under my rule, we are free.”

“Then we are at a disagreement.”

There was a long silence. Dee didn’t know what else to say - wasn’t sure he trusted himself as he felt his spark break slowly. The Prime was staring at him, those red optics never leaving him. Though they had changed, Dee could still see Pax in them - somewhere in there.

“Do not be a fool, Dee. I am a Prime. You cannot go against what Primus himself has decided. I know what is best.” The other mech’s vocoder dropped to a low whisper, “You know I’ve always known what is best for us.”

Dee let out a small vent. The Prime wasn’t wrong. Pax, even if he went about it aggressively, had been right. Dee should never have had to give up his dream, and now he didn’t have to. He’d rebuilt himself a new arm. He’d created a cannon. He’d computed the probability of them forever parting. Pax had always said his processor deserved more than just the mines. Pax was right, but the Prime was wrong if he thought true freedom and dreams could be achieved underneath the oppressive rule of a tyrant.

“In the past. You knew what was best for us in the past.” Dee gave him a sad look. “I will miss the old us. I will miss what we could have been, but you know that from today we will be walking two different paths. Maybe it was always meant to be this way.”

The Prime scoffed, “I thought you didn’t believe in all that mystical nonsense.”

“I don’t.” Dee felt his optics softened. “I hope that one day we shall see through one another’s optics, that we will come to understand one another, the way we couldn’t before. That is a small probability. It was inevitable, I think, that we were meant to end this way. The probability of it… We always had conflicting views, Pax. The computations don’t lie, this was meant to be. There is one constant in the numbers…”

He stepped back, turning away. He needed to be the one to make the first move. He’d spent astroweeks without Pax. He’d had enough time to use his processor, to compute the probabilities, to go through the formula. He hadn’t believed it at first, but he’d come to accept it. What they were was gone. This whole meeting… had been merely closure on Dee’s part.

“There is one constant in the numbers.” Dee laughed a little, “In a better phrase for you, there is one constant in our fates, no matter the universe, I think we were always meant to part.”

He looked at Optimus Prime… He looked at his Orion Pax for the last time.

Because he will no longer be his after this.

“Goodbye, Pax. Another constant, at least in this world, is that I will always love you.” His blue optics turned cold. He’d said his goodbye to the past.

Now, there was only the future. He stared up at the Prime. “Our fight… it’s only begun, Prime.”

He walked away.

He stopped when he heard laughter behind him.

“Brilliant as always. But tell me… did you calculate the probability of me ever letting you go?”

#shattered glass #sg tfone #sg megatron #sg optimus prime #megop #sg megop #opmeg #dpax #transformers one #transformers #real acceptance is finishing 5/6 chapters #despite this starting out as a one-shot skskks

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teecupangel · 1 year ago

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Ok so I have had an idea. This is a bit of reference to the ratatouille au continuation of Desmond being able to hear us in the animus servers. So picture this, after a while of us talking to Desmond checking up on him and the others. Someone the group chat somehow makes a mod that gives the players (us) avatars to pilot in the servers for a short amount of time, but instead of the bodies being human they're just random animals from mise to crows to hawks and eagles. So here kinda how I think this would go. So all the ancestors are asleep or resting in the servers, meanwhile the person who made the mod adds it into the server and there's a bit of commotion as the person tells everyone else, and so the players get to work making the avatars. Then morning comes around, Desmond and the others wake up and see this excessive about of rodents just gathered around everyone. After a moment of panic and shock for our dear assassins and templars they come to find out that now the voices "inside" Desmond's head are now here ready to try And cause some havack.

Oh don't forget to drink water and eat something l. I hope you have a great day/night

Thank you, nonny! I hope you're having a great day/night too! (And yeah, I'll be eating my dinner after this hahahaha) The Ratatouille AU where the ancestors can hear Desmond while ‘playing’, its more unhinged cousin, the Ratatouille AU where Desmond can hear us and the outside POV of Al Mualim thinking the Apple broke Altaïr and the sidestory of Altaïr accidentally connecting with Ezio while looking for Desmond

Here’s the horror-esque version of this AU for this interested in that kind of setup.

Alright, confession time. When I was writing for the voices, my brain immediately to the ‘chat windows’ that popped up in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint and in The Perks Of Being An S Class Heroine.

Then I thought, you know what would be funny? If it was like an actual chatbox with our preferred avatar kinda like this:

To make this stranger, all the avatar are like stock photos of animals and plants. This way, when their avatar finally comes to form, Desmond will be surrounded by various animals.

What happens to the ones who chose plant avatars?

My initial idea was that they would be floating plants like a leaf or a flower just floating in the air.

But then I realized…

We’re crazy enough to band together and create a ‘strange’ unique flower crown to put on Desmond’s head.

The ones that transformed into animals would go “That’s not fair! Why do you guys get to be that close to Desmond?!”

“Plant ftw, bitches!!!” A dandelion of all things would shout out, accidentally blowing itself up and floating away from Desmond, “Fuck!”

A second passed and the dandelion glitches out of existence.

Only to glitch back into the (technically floating) flower crown on Desmond’s head.

“Hey, guys, did you know it cost 1000 Helix to respawn? Fucking Ubi████.”

For those who don’t care about Ubisoft’s monetization scams (as you should), 1000 Helix is more or less $10 and they don’t sell 1000 Helix, they sell the small pack for $9.99 and it gives 1050 Helix. For reference, AC Valhalla’s complete sets (full armor + 2 weapons + mount and raven skin) usually cost around 1500 Helix.

So yeah… even though the ‘players’ have spawned in Desmond’s world, they are still haunted by monetization. (This does mean Desmond has gotten himself an immortal army of plants and animals)

#ratatouille au #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #ask and answer

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hestzhyen · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 59 Pain Posting

Here we go, dear void. What fresh hell awaits our MC this week? We are back to setting up for the next big story moment, for one, so there's lots to speculate over before waiting to see how it all plays out. Oh, and suffering of course. There's plenty of that for almost everyone.

Bad TL of editor's notes and the colour page (second editor's note could technically be spoilers I guess):

First page: 慘状を前に… [sanjou wo maeni...] "Standing in front of a terrible scene..."] Last page: 死んだハズ… だが…?! [shinda hazu... daga...?!] "Supposedly dead... and yet...?!"

Colour Page Text (removed in EN version): 見据える過酷な旅路 [misueru kakoku na tabiji; "Sights fixed on the difficult journey ahead"]

Not much to say about the colour page except I like how moody it is (and big Makizumi guy is pretty cute with his pose). Guess I was wrong as usual about the Makizumi following Samura. Would be cool if they acted like personal bodyguards to Chihiro! They're the only ones who can really fight against Samura right now due to being presence-less ninjas after all. That's a really interesting conflict for them too- they clearly care for him a lot as the only person who treated them as actual people, and he definitely cares for them in return. His desire to save them during the Hishaku raid wasn't an act in the slightest! But more on that later.

Samura vs. Chihiro: Round 1

Stressed-out scribble-eye Chihiro returns... someone give him a hug.

Glad I didn't try to predict shit because I would have been totally flabbergasted by how this went. Way to make a (technical) liar out of me by saying Chihiro can't die since he's the MC, Hokazono-sensei.

Watching Chihiro break down in real time was so hard, man. This poor guy got his shit rocked by John yesterday at the Rakuzaichi, watched Tenri die a pointless death for the same reasons he's on his own journey, witnessed the horror of his dad's Civilian Murderton 3000 at 1% capacity, and now Samura, one of his heroes, betrayed them all with his dad's legacy. He even got one-tapped when he finally lost his cool for real.

Chihiro seriously can't handle all of this and it's so heartbreaking to see. This guy was not built for a bloody revenge mission at all. Now that he died, though... seriously, what's going to happen next?! Do we switch PoV to a different character while Chihiro's dealing with whatever's happening to him in what looks like a hospital morgue?

There are also some questions about the circumstances of his death and apparent revival- did he really die, or was that Kamunabi misinformation for/from the Hishaku mole? If he did, then how did he come back? And how does that affect his contract with Enten? There's absolutely nothing to go on right now so it's time to hunker down and not go crazy waiting for answers.

Apropos of nothing: I wonder if that wound that Samura gave him will scar. If so, it would mirror the one Uruha had on his shoulder:

RIP I'm still not over you, Uruha.

Probably just a nit-picky detail thing that won't amount to anything, but I wanted to post Uruha from when he was still alive so there you go. I'd be very surprised if Uruha came back somehow even though Chihiro apparently may have escaped death... It seems super-duper extra final that he's toast thanks to the duel he had with his master before getting done in. May you please reappear in flashbacks from time to time so I can get sad that you're no longer with us all over again.

One last thing before we move on to the Hishaku at Disused Building Full of Trash HQ:

SHIBAAAAAA SAVE YOUR NEPHEW AND HIS (BOY)FRIEND

Shiba showing up was in "delusions" territory for me but I'm so glad he's here!

Of course he's getting called out (kind of) for not telling Chihiro the truth- we saw him being one of Kunishige's top glazers back in chapter 1 despite how uncomfortable it made the dude to be praised. So we just have to sit back and wait for the secrets to come out once Chihiro's well enough to at least listen. And if Shiba can bring himself to talk. All the older guys in this manga are so guilty they'd put a Catholic to shame and Shiba already struggles with not being able to deter Chihiro from taking this bloody path in the first place. He almost failed to save a Rokuhira twice now too.

Samura's kindness towards Chihiro is so genuine even when he's trying to kill the kid. Don't ruin the image of Kunishige for him, Shiba- let him live and die in ignorant bliss.

"Your dad's legacy is the problem."

A man who shared Kunishige's vision has come to want to destroy everything about it and help expose the lies that made them into "heroes"... man, is there any non-Hishaku character in this manga that isn't encumbered by some huge amount of guilt?

Toxic Old Man Yaoi

Nice trashed warehouse HQ, bros. Definitely getting "we lost the war and suffered for it" vibes from these guys. I'm willing to stake 1 (ONE) slice of birthday cheesecake on everything I've talked about in the past regarding their origin- that the Seitei War was a civil war, and the Hishaku were on an imperialistic/dynastic side that lost. BECAUSE:

The Owl spread was AMAZEBALLS

MY NEMESIS

It's deliberate! This is the third time this damn vase has shown up, and in four panels this chapter no less! I need lovingly detailed close-ups of every flower to better ID them for the hanakotoba interpretations but I've only gotten a few so far. Most importantly, a matsumoto (elegance/nobility), sakurasou (deep desire), kiku (Imperial imagery), and what might be a poppy (for assured victory) but I'm not completely confident on the last one.

But anyway, yeah. Another yaoi bomb has hit the fandom.

Look at John talking like a five-year-old about unbreakable pinky promises lmao

Did it have to be pinky rings? What's next, they're connected by a red string? HOKAZONOOOOOOOOOOOO

They're in some kind of toxic stew of a relationship for sure with how things went down this chapter. Worst Jeanist helpfully gave us the details of the pact they made to get Samura's help and he's the only one who's concerned that the guy can actually make good on his "promise" to kill them all. Hope he's got some good anxiety management techniques because John won't say a damn thing about what his contingency plans are until they're enacted, apparently.

Can't run from the blind man.

How do you manoeuver against the guy who is set up to be the tactician of the war, though? His ability to super sense things and scout with that awesome-looking Owl power will definitely make it difficult to go against him despite being blind. And the EN TL says "control" here but the wording in JP was closer to "flushing out" like someone who pursues and exposes prey animals or drives cattle/sheep/etc. So Samura's definitely someone who's used to scouting and hunting, making him quite the formidable assassin.

Of course they're using each other though. And of course there's a separate Kamunabi mole that gave away the Rokuhira household's info. Guess we'll get into that shortly since I'm doing a dangerous thing and assuming that the Kamunabi have rounded up the rest of the Bearers at the HQ to chill with them and the Sword Master. Will they have enough manpower to stand against both the Hishaku and Samura by next week? Will Hakuri even wake up by then? Will Chihiro be able to fight at all? Probably since this is a high-octane action series! I'll just have to shut up and accept the condensed timeline sooner or later. (Seriously though, only a week?!)

"消耗 [used up/exhausted/depleted]" is one way to put it, I guess.

Wonder why they didn't kill Hakuri outright if he was such a problem. Do they have something planned for him later? It's not like John cares about sparing people's lives in the way Samura does, so wouldn't he have mentioned it would have been better to get rid of him for good? Eh, probably just a pointless nitpick. Hakuri's staying to the end of the series in all probability, so he just couldn't die here.

Needing to negotiate with other members-John's a first among equals like Beard Guy at the Kamunabi, maybe? Let's meet all the Hishaku members soon to find out!

Samura, Chihiro, Hiurhiko, and Worst Jeanist Musings

[slaps Samura] This bad boy can fit so much misguided grief in it.

This guy is already an incredibly compelling villain that I've done analysis on bit by bit as we got new info, and I gotta say that if I wasn't sold hard on Kyora for personal reasons then Samura would easily be #1 already. He's so complex and multi-layered! I think the detail that makes him great as a "villain" is that his convictions are colder than the surface of Pluto compared to Chihiro's (and most other character's) who burn bright and hot. Samura doesn't have any passion behind what he's doing, just an inflexible will to see a miserable but necessary job through to the end. If Chihiro's an unstable blazing young star, Samura is the black hole that remains after a supernova finally burns out.

The contrast during their first face-off is extremely telling too. Neither hesitate but Samura easily wins due to his composure alone, never mind the skill and experience gap. Poor Chihro's broken inside and out after finding out one of the people his dad trusted is helping his mortal enemies; the stoicism that John fractured the day before completely falls apart here to reveal Chihiro at his lowest.

"Better dead than a guilty sinner," is it? Too late for that!

And Samura's doing it all because he wants to spare him from becoming a tainted sinner. I can't hate Samura at all- he's doing this as an act of kindness with sympathetic motivations despite how far gone off the rails he is. This isn't a typical villain who just wants the world to burn after he wallowed in his misery for too long! I'm looking forward to seeing how Chihiro recovers and prepares to face him again. If he's going to be the one to do it, that is.

Look at this pathetic ugly frog guy.

Just putting this in my back pocket to pull out later if it manifests somehow. I don't have strong feelings one way or the other about Hiruhiko being the one to kill Samura right now, but I do hope he's not redeemed somehow to join the main cast. My feelings on why are extremely petty so I'll just leave it at "don't make him the bonkers former criminal ally guy that everyone sorta tolerates because he's earnest and useful". I will concede that he was almost cute this chapter, though. Worst Jeanist probably deserves a raise for putting up with him.

And now we know how John got his arm back too.

Another healing utility person like the Makizumi, huh? I wonder if we'll get more lore on if this is a field of study that anyone who can use sorcery can take advantage of (like tools), or if it's how their personal abilities manifest. Probably won't get answers unless we spend more time with the Makizumi so here's hoping!

WARNING: TERMINAL BRAIN ROT AHEAD

Not kidding in the slightest about the absolutely mind-numbingly stupid takes about this (very cool!) cover illustration. Skip this if I don't cut it from the final draft of the post unless you're into batshit ramblings from an insane fudanshi.

[feral screeching]

I've got really strong feelings about this cover. REALLY strong. Only the first of them is justified though. Kinda.

One, HIYUKI IT'S BEEN SO LONG I MISS YOU COME BACK TO THE MAIN STORY SOON! She looks so cool too! I love that she doesn't have to do blatantly feminine stuff ever- she's 100% badass and awesome every time she shows up. I'm waiting warmly for your return, my Spaghetti Queen! Use your frenemy rival status to help Chihiro overcome his issues this arc!

This cover and some of the community's reactions to it sparked a lot of thoughts that I've been working out for the past few days. Some about how leaks are being handled, some about how people are reacting to the characters and the composition, a lot about Hiyuki herself. The first easy enough: yes, this cover and colour page count as leaks. Don't spread that shit all over social media! Keep leaks a purely opt-in experience for everyone. The rest, well... probably going to have another massive essay since I love Hiyuki but I don't love why she's so refreshing, if that makes sense? And by God do I hate the way she gets treated by most of the fandom. But I'll work all that out over time.

Two, the Hiyuki-Chihiro design parallels are getting to me in a bad way. Like "tinfoil hat and red string on a tack board" levels of baseless speculation. But I think it's extremely deliberate on the author's part to keep using the same black-with-a-splash-of-red-up-top colour palette for them now that they even have matching undone bandages in this art for some reason. Why not have those two do their own thing like Hakuri got to? He actually kind of sticks out as if no one told him to dress all in black for this photo shoot!

I don't want to let my HakuHiro shipper bias get the better of me here though, so I'll just keep the crazy to myself until we learn more and/or I finish getting the Hiyuki thoughts in order.

Three, HEROINE HAKURI PROPAGANDA!

I'm being completely serious here! I've been banging pots and pans while screaming from the rooftops (internally) about how Hakuri is in the traditional heroine role since I wrote that HakuHiro essay around Chapter 38! He spares Hiyuki from having to balance things out by providing a soft touch because that's his job. And he's so good at it!

Seriously look at his pose! He's leaning in to Chihiro and doing a cute little gesture with his hands, looking so soft while Chihiro and Hiyuki are the baddest motherfuckers to ever exist! Hokazono-sensei was extremely serious when he said he intended for Hakuri to add cuteness. He's so cute! CUTE! But it's not like he's a total uwu marshmallow either- he's still got a really cool outfit on that highlights his boyish charm. He's just the "soft" one to Chihiro's cool and Hiyuki's fierce.

I know I'm a delusional lunatic for going nuts over this. And I hope it's clear that I'm not taking this as a sign that Hakuri's going to be an actual love interest. I'm not that far gone. I'm just always appreciating that Hakuri and Hiyuki essentially swapped roles in a traditional shounen trio in terms of what kind of balance they bring to the dynamic. I think it's an underrated aspect of Kagurabachi's appeal and I wish more shounen did this! Hokazono-sensei seems to love cute guys and cool women and I am 100% behind him if that's the case.

Rough entry but I'm not having a good time lately. Do your best to survive the rest of the year, kind void. We'll make it through for the sake of finding out how the Kagurabachi cast suffers from week to week if nothing else. Give yourself a little treat today, okay?

#kagurabachi #Feels like burnout TBH #At least I can exist here in peace.#I'm allowed to make fun of Catholics as a former one myself #Save me techwear heroine Hakuri

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