#rest on your oar (and see)
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Rest on Your Oar (and See) Commentary Track
It’s been two years, nearly, since I published Rest on Your Oar (and See). According to AO3, it is my 6th most popular fic by hits, and my 4th most kudos’ed. By Popular demand (twitter poll) here is some commentary about politics and references in the text! It may be THE MOST PRETENTIOUS THING i've ever written
Read this with the fic (here) open beside you, I guess? I don't know how to do this kind of thing
Content Warnings: Discussions of the holocaust / Shoah, mass death on the Mediterranean and English Channel, depression, suicidality, parental abuse
Rest on Your Oar began life in my green notebook, which also contains fan favourites such as every Silmarillion fic I’ve ever posted, and ‘An Ebb, a Wave, a Soft Crash.’ I write most things longhand first, and then type up the second draft. If something strikes me as having potential i’ll polish the second draft into a third, but not always.
Rest on Your Oar wasn’t so much something that I wrote as much as something that created itself. It felt like it was in my hands already as I began to put it on the page, although that’s not to say I didn’t put a large amount of work into it. The longhand version follows the same structure as the published one, although it’s about half as long and it’s not as good. I don’t spend much time thinking about law in draft one, which is funny, because I think that’s the most important element of the entire thing.
If there’s one thing this fic is about about, it’s Modernity, and more specifically the space that law currently fills in our lives (one that might once have been filled by something else [God]). It is also about Europe, History-with-capital-H, [both of which are really just Modernity again] abuse, queerness, and depression. Modernity was when the disenchantment started: the scientific method and bureaucratisation came in - both forms of systematisation - as a result racism became codified by science instead of Religion, the individual conscience became king, and the King lost his head. And more!!
Why yes, I have read Angels in America, thank you for asking.
This commentary will explain some of my thinking on this, as well as things that I would change, now. As I said, it’s been nearly two years, and they’ve been personally eventful. This is especially true of the focus on Europe.
I should have been clearer: the [ongoing] colonialism that has endured for the last six centuries and the current focus on borders, borders, borders make this place, at this moment, an Evil one. At this moment, we would rather maintain an absurdly expensive and brutal system of social murder, rather than deal with problems we ourselves have caused. If you’re looking for a cause to throw €5 to over the next few months - and God knows you probably aren’t, given the cost of living these days - consider organisations that come under the banner of the Calais Appeal (you can find it on instagram). Over 300 people have died in Northern Europe (France and Belgium mostly) trying to get into the UK. In 2021, according to the UN, 3,231 people lost their lives crossing the Mediterranean sea. These are people with beating hearts, inner lives, families and friends that love them dearly.It is international law that you can claim asylum in any country you want. The EU and the UK are breaking international law. There are NO LEGAL ROUTES into this place unless you are already a member of a privileged minority. The EU knows that this is the case and persists in these brutal policies regardless.
A final note before starting - Edgeworth is deeply depressed during this fic, and surprise! I was deeply depressed when I was writing it. Depression is very difficult to measure when it gets that bad, because your perceptions of everything, including time, are skewed and sometimes unreliable. I know now that I was deep into it, and this comes through occasionally in the writing and the language used. I want to say that I appreciate every comment - some of the loveliest, most gracious, best-written comments I have ever received are on this fic - and would like to let people know that I’m doing better now. In case you were wondering!
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The title comes from an Eileen Ní Chuilleanáin (pronounced Eye-leen Nee Quill-en-awn) poem, “The Second Voyage.” It’s about Odsseus deciding that he hates the sea and must leave it, and then realising that he can’t, and must go back. I love Ní Chuilleanáin so much - she writes with an acute eye for detail. Can’t recommend enough. Anyway, you should read the poem alongside the piece, and bear in mind the ending. Is it happy?
Is fanfiction literature? I’m going to ruffle a few feathers here and say that I’ve been reading fic for a good deal more than half my life, and I think the answer is usually not, or at least it’s not usually good literature. I’ve published more than 33 fics, which is quite a few, and even then, I think there are maybe three that I could possibly, possibly, with a lot of work, spend a few months editing and send off to a magazine. I write in the fanfiction genre and mostly, for me, generally, that precludes analysis or deep themes. Some people treat it differently. I approached Rest on your Oar differently. That’s why the references to the Holocaust and the Second World War are in here. If something is about the Law, and about Europe, then it is for me very important that we mention where the law in Europe can lead. However, generally I think it is absolutely inappropriate and wrong to trivialise the Holocaust by setting a fanfiction there. Like the new trend of novels that treat Auschwitz as a tragic backdrop in which characters can self-actualise, such fics show an absolute misunderstanding of what happened, and what was done. It was important for me to acknowledge, in my fic about a kind-of German lawyer battling with the legacies of his lawyer father(figure), that it was Europe’s celebrated legal and infrastructural machinery that made the murder of roughly 7,000,000 people (of whom 6,000,000 were Jewish) possible.
Anyway.
He’ll disembark at Bordeaux. A big enough city that the police won’t blink twice at an anonymous body in the treacherous river. He won’t upset anyone – he won’t make anyone he knows discover – it’ll be OK once he gets off the train
The fic starts with Edgeworth on the Paris-Hendaye high-speed rail service, in the midst of a full-blown break with reality.
By poetic licence, the carriage is empty. A last-minute ticket for the TGV on this line, in the evening, in first class (of course) would cost you about €173.00, if not more. Provided you could find one. Jesus!! You can get to Greece (by plane) for that!!
Why the Basque country? Firstly, I lived near there for a few months and absolutely adored it. The Sea, the cliffs, the people (the people!!) the towns, winding roads, villages, houses all facing the same direction, Saint Sebastian, the language, the rain, the beaches that attract tourists and the constant wind that disappoints them, and again, above all, from everywhere, the Sea, the Sea, the Sea. I use the water as a metaphor in my writing, which is really original and unique of me. Why the Basque country? It’s old, and not German at all, easy to get to, and the seaside towns are very underpopulated during the Winter. A lot of empty houses, empty apartment blocks, and rain from the Atlantic.
The platform at Biarritz is drab and rain-soaked.
You ever get the impulse to stay on the train you’re on, and get off somewhere nicer? I don’t want to get off at Marne-la-Vallée/Chessy. So rainy and cold. And for what! Disneyland!?!? I’d rather be getting off in Avignon [ ;-) ]. This is not what Edgeworth feels, except for it is. I don’t know! He’s in the middle of a breakdown! Those aren’t coherent thoughts he’s having! I wanted to express here how tar-ry depression can be. All of your brain feels heavier, and whatever thoughts you are having are unclear and move like viscous. I imagine, for quick-on-the-draw person like Edgeworth, who may have spent most of his childhood very alert to his guardian’s moods and potential violences, that state is particularly alien. Does he want to die, or does he want to live? It can be surprising, for those who have not been there, how unclear that demarcation can be.
Corrupt.
Also I don’t forgive him the corruption until he decides that he’s going to fix it. It’s very illegal and absolutely morally repugnant, what Lana did to him. It’s absolutely the kind of thing that could mess you up for life, and I imagine would be fertile grounds for a civil case as well as a criminal one. But he’s still in a position of authority. Prisons are evil places in real life, and in Ace Attorney they seem to be mediaeval dungeons with Victorian hard-labour standards. One imagines Genet thriving in the environment. It’s on the prosecutor to think long and hard about what the truth of the matter is. Can we achieve true justice on Earth? Debatable. But Edgeworth’s approach sure isn’t helping!!!
And yet, I think it’s pretty obvious that he does, even at his worst, care about Justice.
At least there isn’t anyone they could call. Not one. The thought is freeing. He used to have Von Karma listed, but his office number, not his personal line.
Not having an emergency contact - it’s very difficult to live that way. You don’t realise how much you need one - pretty much for every job application, pretty much for every club you want to join, and certainly for doctors, dentists, and any other place where you may need insurance. For more on this, read the very beautiful How to Be Alone by Lane Moore.
Von Karma had been total
I hate it when people use political theories to describe interpersonal relationships, and vice versa, because it contributes to petty bourgeois philosophy about government spending and the worst excesses of liberal twitter, but here I present my take on parental abuse. Apologies, as ever, to Hannah Arendt.
He stumbles up the street, to the bright neon promise of an open hotel, its windows reflected in the puddles on the ground.
Anyway, I spent an enjoyable three hours looking for a fancy hotel that Edgeworth might check into. I can’t remember the one I picked but it was very white-plaster light-wood beams, healthy food, open all year round. I think to be truly in-character Edgeworth would go with the Hôtel Palace, which is just as baroque and expensive as you can imagine, but he’s not in character here, as also shown by his eschewing of the SUIT.
Where does Edgeworth buy his fancy and boring clothes? There is a shopping centre in Gare Montparnasse, where the Paris-Hendaye service originates. So Levi’s for t-shirts, the Kooples, and so on. Some aspects of this fic are so unbelievably thought out, and some are completely symbolic and not realistic in any way. Don’t think too hard about it.
To skip forward - here is where place Edgeworth visits in Biarritz (Le Rocher de la Vierge):
Places Miles and Franziska were brought as children for educational reasons
And the little village he settles in is one of my favourite places in the entire universe, that is, Guéthary, a little further down the Basque coast.
How gorgeous?!?!? Many a happy cigarette smoked on this harbour. Also a comedically dramatic tumble from a bicycle, ripping the knee of some nice yellow jeans.
For people who aren’t aware, there is ongoing conversation in the Basque country over the topic of independence. The Basque region encompasses some of France’s South-Western coast and also a large amount of Northern Spain. It skewed Republican (good) in the Spanish Civil War (a war so terrible that any amount of reflection upon it will have you pretty much despondent) and as a result suffered heavily when the fascists won. Picasso’s painting Guernica is based on the German bombing of the Basque cultural and market town of the same name.
Up until fairly recently, this was a conflict, with armed group ETA on one side (pro-independence) and the Spanish police and the Guardia Civil [guilty of war crimes for sure, but no charges] on the other. The EU will not tell you this because they like to pretend there hasn’t been war since 1945. When they say this, they mean “literally tanks sent between France and Germany.” (I’m not anti-EU in principle but I am a mostly unemployed leftist so I have things to critique. To be clear this is not a Brexit support blog).
Philadelphia Story had been his favourite. His father had ruffled his hair and laughed when Miles said so. He said, why am I not surprised. My clever little boy.
Katherine Hepburn forever. Gregory Edgeworth in no doubt as to who his son is.
Larry didn’t like it so much – “Mulan’s for girls” he’d said, and Phoenix had looked down at his hands and agreed, albeit far more quietly than usual.
Miles Edgeworth runs up against male socialisation and it hurts. Also Phoenix lives with his aunt - why? Not for this fic to explore.
Past empty campsites, fields full of luxury white cuboids waiting for May.
Anyway I myself was a campsite worker, poisoning the air of the beautiful small town with my shouted English. Shame on me! I know.
But here, on this cliff - he wasn’t expecting this, either – he thought he’d seen the town’s war memorial – but here’s another one, stones turning their faces to the sea, and it’s blunter – it’s -
If your mother did a master’s thesis on French historical memory of the second world war, please hit me up! We can commiserate together. The effects of this thesis on me are manifold, but one is that I MUST find the war memorial in any town I go to and see who EXACTLY is memorialised. Obviously we have the First World War dead, which is as close to neutral remembrance as you can get in this sphere - and it’s important to look at the length of these lists in small villages and reflect!!!! And then more rarely, and always a much shorter list, you’ll have the lists of the Second World War dead. Usually resistants, but sometimes civilians as well, and generally it won’t say whether they were shot on the street or deported.
So in Bidart (this memorial is in Bidart) that is not the case. It’s very stark, hence the flashback. My favourite war memorial is in Biarritz because it goes into a lot of detail about deportees &tc.
And speaking of memorials!!!
This is the memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe on Hannah Arendt Strasse:
And this is the separate memorial across the road to the murdered members of the LGBTQ+ community
Both of these memorials are extremely powerful; Von Karma here weaponises this power to threaten and oppress. Power and aura, for art in everyday life, can be used for both affirmative and negative ends. Memorials to atrocities of this scale are complicated places, and while I think Berlin has done a phenomenal job at limiting the potential for misuse, it is still there. The memorial does not tell you what to think.
Similarly, you have to think about coming into an understanding of your own identity in a world where the visible, public and celebrated elements are monuments to oppression, illness, institutional hatred and . What does it mean to understand your sexuality, religion or gender through displays of public contrition and grief, or as sites of public debate before you understand it as what it means for you and your heart?
To close out this section, consider the words of Primo Levi:
It happened, and therefore it could happen again; this is the core of what we have to say.
This is why we must reflect on the Law, and on current European fascism, and on current European migration policy. I hope at least that there will be memorials to the people we have lost due to the above.
-
On his mother’s birthday, it rains.
Who is Miles Edgeworth’s mother???? Assumedly just as dead as his father, but why the complete absence from the text? Misogyny, obviously, but why else??? When you think about it it’s a horrifically sad story. Edgeworth wanting to die (more actively than passively at this stage) on her birthday is a detail I added to make it worse!! One imagines she’s buried or memorialised in his hometown. Did they go to her grave? Did Gregory miss her out loud?
She would have been 60. All the terrible people in the world who reached that milestone.
This is a reference to the fact that Henry Kissinger is !!! Still !!!! Alive ?!?!?!?!?
The ocean revolting against itself and the pure rage of its power
The sea is a neutral force. A neutrality that is still very powerful.
His first thought is I like that bicycle, with the pink streamers on the handlebars.
Edgeworth is starting to recognise his inner child. This will be, in the end, what saves his life, and possibly what saves us all. I once had a therapist that called herself an “early childhood development professional, only one that deals with adults.” She was the best therapist I ever had!! Miles Edgeworth needs to start feeling and healing!! And so do I, and dear reader, probably so do you! Also this scene was written two years before I met this person, but falling off a cliff is a real thing that can happen. I had a coworker that fell off TWO separate cliffs. Excessive? She certainly thought so!
A Portuguese nurse asks if he’s alright as he comes in (what a question) and he tells her no.
Because mental illness is actually quite common and I imagine Edgeworth is underplaying his symptoms, they don’t keep him in for observation like I imagine they probably should. In my country the healthcare system is so broken that they don’t have the money to do things like that, but in France it’s generally efficient and well-funded. What’s going on here? Maybe he doesn’t have his EHIC card or something. Anyway, prozac made me much worse! He should be on sertraline. And then, after all of that - all that agony and humiliation - he’s still just as bad as he was before, worse maybe.
He is fourteen and lying on his back. The parquet rubs cold against his legs
There is no worse age to be in the entire world alive than 14. Is the suicidality already latent in young Edgeworth, or is it that he is looking back with poisoned lenses?
“Hello, detective.”
You can’t escape!!!!!!!! You may desperately want to - the love of your friends and family can be the most painful and heavy thing, the most awkward burden to bear - but you can’t escape it. Thankfully.
Ride your bike down to the sea and relish in the breeze blowing the hair back from your face.
“9 out of 10 days are slightly disappointing
But on the tenth, you see that light beckoning”
Annika Norlin, “Silent Night”
Transcendence is rare, but it happens. It will happen to you. You will come to a place where you will recognise the beauty around you and inside you, and you will know that you were supposed to make it here. You will not want the mire of mental illness anymore; you will know that you are better when you are freer.
And then it will go, and you will forget the feeling, but not that you had it. As Elizabeth Bishop says: Somebody loves us all.
The wanting of the bad thing is a strange thing to explain. There’s no such thing as true freedom from it. It is always in the back of your head, there’s always another shoe that can drop, and there will be people and things said to you - Never Quite Free by the Mountain Goats, people, don’t ask me to explain more than that.
In the future, Phoenix Wright will run into the same stretch of sea…
See High Season
he shady tactics (not illegal), the withholding of certain pieces of evidence (not illegal), the decisions on what sentence to push for, and for whom, and when to take a case and when to decide against doing so
Be VERY cautious of prosecutors. I myself am absolutely anti-prison. I don’t see any reason for that kind of barbarity in our world. I can see that not everybody feels that way. But always remember: prosecutors in most of today’s systems are on very good friends with the cops. And the cops are never your friends.
Old man, Edgeworth thinks, old man, I am not ashamed
Edgeworth is gay and now he can say “i am gay” out loud to himself. This kind of brutal repression, that either abusive parents or abusive environments instil, is violence. That is, violence as defined by Johan Galtung: the cause of the difference between the potential and the actual, between what could have been and what is.
Thank you not-Guéthary! We are moving on!
The Cévennes! Beautiful mountains, barely populated, old old old. And I believe a place where the Maquis (part of the French Resistance) tended to congregate. Resistance… potential changes on the horizon for dear M. Edgeworth. The town that I based this town on is Florac, another stunning location. Best avocado of my entire life. I can still remember that salad, all these years later. And a very lovely skirt, silk, in blue-grey!
Oh my GOD I have got to get back there. I forgot how beautiful it was. I wonder how much rent is. I could finally write my masterwork in peace.
The man at the till, tall and dark, smiles at him
When I was there there were no handsome Spanish men selling books but in all fairness I don’t have any use for handsome Spanish men, so maybe there were some I missed?
Unusual for a Catholic church to be so unadorned
Edgeworth does not Find Religion here. Pity! I think there are some themes in Catholicism that could help him! Not Catholicism itself, but a few of the ideas within it. Not the devotion bit - he’s maybe had too much of that already.
He liked the moomins too, although he got the feeling the other children in the class would have the same reaction to that as they did to Mulan
I must admit to taking the shame of loving the Moomins as a homage to Philip Pullman, who wrote sweetly about the same thing in an essay which I cannot find (here’s a different one), but nobody picked up on it in the comments and so now I think it’s just plagiarism??? Help!?!
He has a Spanish accent; more Southern than Northern
Javi García Cortes is from Grenada
Von Karma had slapped him, once, hard, across the face
Von Karma physically assaulting him like this is deeply humiliating, and acts as a threat to Franziska as well, though I don’t think he would do the same to her.
The chasm it will open has been a spectre, his life since he was nine years old. The dark at the centre of the spider’s web.
So the “dark at the centre of the spider’s web” is a serious image that I am using seriously, but I was listening to an improv podcast by Paul F Tomkins where “Hans Christian Anderson” is being interviewed, and HE USES THE SAME IMAGE!! But it’s so funny! Truly one of my favourite jokes ever. This is a coincidence, but it’s ruined this paragraph for me.
He was an omnipresent threat of power and violence, and he shaped Edgeworth, gave him purpose and an appreciation for Handel and Bach.
If someone gives you art, knowledge, understanding and education, feeds you - you’re a real person at least partly in their image, and - it’s unbearable, that the person that was supposed to love you and nurture you not only didn’t care enough to do that, but also hurt you, maybe on purpose and maybe by accident. Apologies would never be enough, and Miles Edgeworth does not even have that. I mean, really put yourself in his shoes: you’ve found out that this man who was responsible for your growth and development and your choice of career actually hated you and wanted to kill you and it wasn’t even for anything he thought you did. (And then it turns out your trusted co-workers were responsible for you sending hundreds of people to prison). And then also you’re in the middle of a nervous breakdown and you can’t stop thinking about the last time you were happy. Which was when you were nine years old.
lying on the shore beside Javi García Cortes, who had just kissed him in full view of the road, the best kiss of his life
I love Javi so much.AO3 user Eggybaguette posted this absolutely incredible comment, which is such a good analysis and you’re so smart for this if you’re reading this, like genuinely you are so intelligent. “[Edgeworth] seeing himself, an anonymous body in a river in the beginning, and then letting himself be recognized and experience intimacy in a river with Javi,” as they point out, is an important character progression. It’s also important in terms of borders - rivers and seas are often sites of division. Here Edgeworth is allowing himself to broaden the horizons of what he thinks his body is for. This is also true of the scene where he goes sea-swimming.
He doesn’t get out of bed except to use the bathroom for three days straight
Oh God I forgot how horrible I am to this poor man in this section. Healing isn’t linear!
He loves this movement. He loves the clarinet.
Ah, Mozart’s Piano Concerto no.23 in A Major (K488). Truly I don’t know where this man got his genius from but he understood how to express light in music! The fête de la musique that Edgeworth is attending is an annual event that has musicians play in towns across France. It’s really great! I don’t know how good an orchestra from a tiny rural town would be, but let’s pretend it’s a good one for this.
And it was not The Law that stood in his way.
IS THIS A WHISPER OF REDEMPTION? I have been a sucker for a redemption arc since I recognised a kindred spirit in Zuko from Avatar, and to be honest I am so obsessed with Ace Attorney deciding that was something Edgeworth would probably undergo, but totally off-screen. So what changed? What was the “true meaning of being a prosector?” Is the system broken beyond repair, or can it be fixed? Choose carefully, because if something can be fixed, you might find you have an obligation to fix it… not that Edgeworth is there yet in his emotional journey.
The next morning, he’s feeling pretty bad, but he gets up anyway
HE IS ABLE TO GET UP IN THE MORNING AND FEED HIMSELF!!!!!!! Just as triumphant a moment as running down to the sea imo. This is the hard work of living.
the teachings he had to impart made a certain amount of sense. They twisted the world around, so that they confirmed your worst fears, and the more you got the more you needed
More Wanting the Bad Thing.
Sometimes the two of them, miserable on the sofa together. Miles went to a lady to talk about it, sometimes, and the way he couldn’t really make friends
It was partly inherited all along :( The thing is sometimes something happens which explains it all, and sometimes it doesn’t, and often it is a combination. Gregory Edgeworth here being an exemplary father, meaning that when he noticed his son was more sad than the usual child he went and tried to sort it out.
Oh God, had nobody – the little boy who would sleep in single bed strewn with books and signal samurai pillowcases – had nobody thought, Manfred Von Karma will damage this child
Where are the child protection systems in Ace Attorney. Mr Phoenix sir I know you care very deeply for Trucy but you can’t just take a child back to your house without some kind of documentation. Von Karma should not have been able to randomly take a child out of his community to a different continent. As John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats says, though, “Take the character seriously.” So if this was the state of the issue - what the Hell would that feel like? Not good! Edgeworth is feeling the grief of realising that childhood and its moral simplicities are over, the fact that he has been forever damaged by his upbringing, and that he will never get to be nurtured by people who loved him. And also there are fifteen years of pain that he has not let himself feel, that are all now demanding their day in court.
Well. Miles has always cared about justice, fairness, truth (whatever those words really mean for adult lives, there is something very clear and beautiful about a child’s perception of the concepts). Edgeworth is in a position to help with that.
Try and build a life that you would be proud to show to your childhood self. It doesn’t have to be the life that they wanted.
Phoenix cried for the whole thing, pretty much
Phoenix is deep in grief!
as the river cuts a gash across the continent more political than physical.
Goodbye, Cévennes! I will miss you dearly!!
But there will be time enough to return. Go on, go on, let the magnets and the engineers carry you forward.
Perhaps there’s something important good and connective about trains, as well? Maybe there is space to redeem ourselves? Maybe if we leave our own interests behind and join in common cause?
I attended the centenary of the 1918 Armistice on a footbridge across the Rhine on the France-Germany border. Then there were lots of jokes about how it was about time for Alsace-Lorraine to go back to Germany, and also tears of relief that such a war hasn’t happened since 1945. If there are no wars between France and Germany for so long then surely more is possible.
Borders are weird places.
“The architecture here is, like, really weird,” Trucy says, eating her solero and looking, unimpressed, at one of the Europe’s greatest achievements. “Is it supposed to look like a spaceship?”
Trucy is right. It is weird. I love it so much. I think Edgeworth is absolutely involved in the European Court of Human Rights. It’s a bit for show, a bit actually effective, and mostly a massive symbol for… something.
While he’s there the law will change, and there will be dancing in the streets.
The Law has enormous power. In the right hands, it promotes human justice, and allows for the truth to be codified. In more mundane light, too, it orders things you hardly think about. A number of years ago, it was revealed that a mix-up on my birth certificate means that I have two available names. It took a while to actually work out what this meant; for a while I thought that I was legally registered under a name that wasn’t mine. It was upsetting! And then for trans people, getting the right name of their birth certs and personal IDs is a concrete affirmation. According to the state and its laws, this is who you are.
Sharp Objects says: I have returned to my childhood, the scene of the crime. This refers to real crime and also a more abstract one.
Anyway I have no way to end this. Let me know if you have any questions?
The Prodigal
The brown enormous odor he lived by
was too close, with its breathing and thick hair,
for him to judge. The floor was rotten; the sty
was plastered halfway up with glass-smooth dung.
Light-lashed, self-righteous, above moving snouts,
the pigs' eyes followed him, a cheerful stare--
even to the sow that always ate her young--
till, sickening, he leaned to scratch her head.
But sometimes mornings after drinking bouts
(he hid the pints behind the two-by-fours),
the sunrise glazed the barnyard mud with red
the burning puddles seemed to reassure.
And then he thought he almost might endure
his exile yet another year or more.
But evenings the first star came to warn.
The farmer whom he worked for came at dark
to shut the cows and horses in the barn
beneath their overhanging clouds of hay,
with pitchforks, faint forked lightnings, catching light,
safe and companionable as in the Ark.
The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.
The lantern--like the sun, going away--
laid on the mud a pacing aureole.
Carrying a bucket along a slimy board,
he felt the bats' uncertain staggering flight,
his shuddering insights, beyond his control,
touching him. But it took him a long time
finally to make up his mind to go home
-- Elizabeth Bishop
If you liked this, then you’ll LOVE
A Place of Greater Safety by Hilary Mantel
Elizabeth Bishop’s poems, including: Filling Station, At the Fishhouses
The Seasons Quartet by Ali Smith
Angels in America by Tony Kushner
How to be Alone by Lane Moore
The Vichy Syndrome by Henri Russo
Postwar: A History of Europe since 1945 by Tony Judt
If This is a Man and The Truce by Primo Levi
The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel A. Van Der Kolk
All About Love by bell hooks
Our Lady of the Flowers by Jean Genet
A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness
Less, by Andrew Sean Greer
Sharp Objects, by Gillian Flynn
The Mountain Goats discography, specifically these songs:
Heretic Pride
**Never Quite Free
Cry for Judas
Can't Get You Out of my Head docuseries by Adam Curtis
22, 25 by Rosemary Valerlo-O’Connell
#my fic#commentary#writing#rest on your oar#edgeworth#aa#rest on your oar (and see)#politics#Europe#modernity#pretention#elizabeth bishop#The Law#ace attorney#fic writing
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BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷
"How much longer?"
Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.
"Not much longer."
You curtly reassure him.
You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.
That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.
"This is your stop."
You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.
He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,
"I...payed for the full trip."
You shake your head solomly,
"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."
You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.
"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."
You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.
"You can't do that! We agreed!"
He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.
The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.
"What choice do you have?"
The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.
"Is that enough for you?"
He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.
You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.
Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.
His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.
From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.
You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.
After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.
You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.
As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.
You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.
Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.
You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.
꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷
#MORALLY CORRUPT READER LETS GOOOOOOO!!!!?#monster x reader#monster lover#monster x human#monster fucker#merfolk x reader#siren x reader
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Fool's Fare: Chapter Eight
Fool's Fare: Chapter Eight
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.
Content Warning: Cursing, Talks of a curse, Arguing, Feelings of Betrayal, Feelings of being used, Mentions of broken hearts, Verbal abuse (kinda), Mentions of death of a parent, Talk of the supernatural, Mentions of abandonment, Suicide mention, Reveals. I think that's it, but please let me know!
Word Count: 3.2k
Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
Guilt was almost never rational. It was the monster that crept into your emotions, turning sorrow into pain, anger into wrath. It didn’t care for things like logic or forgiveness. It fed on the destruction it created, leaving behind ruin and sometimes even catastrophe.
You felt guilty for the disappearance of your father. Maybe if you had begged him to stay that last day, had pleaded for him to not go like your instincts told you to, he would still be around and things would be better. Your mother would never have died of a broken heart, your brother wouldn’t be suffering the effects of a curse that were not his to bear, and the ache that lay inside your chest wouldn’t be throbbing from your conversation with Captain Jake Seresin of the Hangman.
Water lapped against the rowboat as two of the men pulled and pushed the oars through the water. You sat in between Mickey and Bradley, refusing to meet the gaze of the blond who sat across from you. His green eyes bore into your profile, willing you to turn and look at him, but you stubbornly looked out at the dark waters that surrounded you, the mist not allowing you to see very far, not that there was much to be seen.
Mickey fidgeted uncomfortably next to you as his gaze darted between you and the captain, his fingers tugging on his sleeves as he chewed on his bottom lip. You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you as well, drilling a hole into the back of you head. You let out an annoyed huff, tapping your foot gently against the floor of the boat as you crossed your arms.
You wished a rogue wave would come and swallow you whole.
The shore grew closer and closer with each passing moment, and soon the men around you were hopping out into the shallow waters, still eerily dark and murky despite being so close to land. Mickey and Bradley got out on either side of you followed by Jake and Javy, leaving you the last one to exit. You stood to get out, a hand coming into your line of sight. You paused to look at it before glancing up to see Jake still looking at you, eyes shining with something you couldn’t place. You scowled at him, batting his hand away and taking one step out of the boat and into the water. The sand shifted, causing you to stumble, and Jake’s hands wrapped around you to keep you steady. He helped you onto firmer ground before you pushed him away from you with a glare.
“I’m fine,” you snapped, brushing your clothes off, “I had it.”
“Sure you did,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of you. His brow creased as he frowned, and you let out a huff, stomping over towards where Bradley and Mickey stood. His gaze lingered, but you didn’t turn look back at him, instead choosing to watch as the men dragged the boats further up onto the shore, weighing them down with nearby stones so that they wouldn’t float away once the tide came in.
It was then that you allowed yourself to look around, taking in the jungle scene around you.
Loud cries from the different birds sounded all around you, some squawking and others chirping as they hopped along the branches. You heard the chattering of other creatures as well, watching as shadows darted about above you as well as in the brush surrounding. The mist clung to your skin, and the air was surprisingly cool for what should be the tropics. Perhaps the ship had been blown farther off course than anyone had previously thought.
Rustling sounded from behind you, and you whirled around. Your hand flew to the sword that lay strapped to your side, unsheathing it a few inches as you waited for whatever was there to show itself. Your muscles tensed as more rustling sounded, the large leaves moving, and you sucked in a breath as your eyes widened, the creature revealing itself in one quick motion.
The sound of your sword unsheathing all the way and swinging in the air filled the small clearing, and Jake was met with the business end of the sharp weapon, tip stopping just shy of his chin. His own eyes widened as he stared at it, quickly darting up to meet yours. It took you a moment to process what was happening before you, and you scowled at him, lowering the sword and sheathing it once more as he let out a nervous chuckle.
“Little jumpy, huh Guppy?”
You ignored him, face still set into a scowl as you took a few steps around the clearing. A strange energy filled the air, one that set your heart hammering inside your chest and the blood in your veins zapping with energy. Your fingers twitched at your sides, everything becoming intense around you. The air started to feel almost suffocating, the noises becoming louder, the foliage becoming brighter. Your eyes darted around as an overwhelming sense of dread gripped you, your chest starting to rise and fall rapidly as the sensations grew. You took a few tentative steps around the clearing, willing the sensations to stop, to slow down. It was all so much.
“Guppy?”
A hand grabbed yours, and the steadiness of it grounded you. Your head whipped around to look at Jake, uncertainty coloring his features as he studied you. The colors faded back to normal, the sounds became quieter, and the energy swirling around you became less stifling. Your breathing returned to normal, and it was then that you realized that tears prickled at your lash line. You wiped them away quickly, clearing your throat and pulling away from the blond to inspect the far side of the clearing.
“Are you okay?” He pressed, taking a hesitant step towards you. You waved him off, schooling your features as you heard the sound of a river nearby.
“I’m fine,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Of course you were still mad at him, who wouldn’t be after what you found out in the cabin? He had been using you for months, getting closer to you only to relieve the effects of the curse that plagued him. He had wormed his way behind your walls and into your heart, and you hated him for making you care about him. You had been played for a fool, and the very thought had you clenching your fists with rage.
“Guppy, please-”
“What do you want from me?” You snapped, whirling around to face him, nostrils flaring and eyes blazing. “What? Are you upset that you let your little secret slip out? That I’m basically just some kind of pain relief for you, and that’s the only reason you’re interested in me at all?”
A frown tugged on his lips, brow pinched in distress as he shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant at all, sweet girl,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to you. You took a step back, face guarded as you watched him. He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he regarded you.
“Listen to me,” he said firmly, eyes set in determination as he finished crossing the distance between you two. He made no move to touch you, but you sucked in a breath at the proximity. “I know you think I’ve been using you, but I haven’t. If I wanted to use you, don’t you think I would have gone farther than we ever did? I know what I’m saying may not mean much to you right now, but I swear it, Guppy. I swear on everything that I care about in this world, I was not using you.”
You studied him for a moment, mulling over his words. Perhaps he had a point. If he was using you, surely he would have done a lot more than just hold you? You pressed your lips together firmly, frowning at him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he murmured, eyes shining as they looked at you, “I won’t touch you again unless it’s to protect you or because you want me to.”
Your brow furrowed, frown growing deeper as you regarded him. He swallowed thickly, nodding more to himself than to you.
“I mean it,” he whispered, backing away just a step. “I won’t touch you unless absolutely necessary. When-if you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
Before you could answer, the leaves began to move again, and both of you turned to watch as Javy stepped into the clearing. Jake stiffened next to you, a look of irritation flashing across his face before he schooled them into one of cool indifference.
“What is it, Javy?” He drawled, sounding almost bored as his first mate glanced between the two of you, a look of knowing mixed with annoyance plastered on his own face.
“You’re going to want to check this out,” he said finally, fixing Jake with a hard look. Jake nodded, looking back at you and gesturing for you to follow as he walked after Javy back towards the beach. You moved to leave, stopping when you heard a strange noise, almost like a song. A shiver ran up your spine as you looked back, dread filling the pit in your stomach as the sound happened again, closer to the beach this time.
“Guppy, let’s go!”
You jumped at the sound of Jake’s stern voice, whirling around and following quickly after the two men.
The men were all gathered in a clearing of trees along the water, a wooden hut on stilts sat above the water, a set of steps leading onto firmer land while another set led directly into the water. You would never have known the structure was there unless you stumbled upon it. The trees hid it from view of the beach, the foliage packed so densely that you had to really push your way through it. You stumbled out onto the other side, Bradley reaching out to steady you as you tripped over a tree root.
You wondered why he never told you that your presence brought him relief like Jake said it did.
Jake inspected the structure, walking along the side of it before looking at Javy.
“Any of you been inside yet?” He asked, frowning at the surrounding men. The first mate shook his head, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the area.
“No,” he answered. “No one has been in yet. I wanted you to be the first to see it.”
Jake nodded, turning his attention back to the group.
“Where’s Benedict and Joshua?” He frowned.
“No one’s seen them since just after we landed,” Javy replied. Jake cursed, shaking his head.
“Alright, let’s check this place out,” he muttered, already heading up the steps. Javy was close behind followed by two more men, then Mickey, then you, and finally Bradley brought up the rear.
“We’ll keep watch out here,” one of the men called out nervously. Jake glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow before shrugging.
“Suit yourself,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively at them.
The hut was tiny, but still somehow contained item after items along the floors, the shelves, and every other surface that was available. A strange hum filled the air, not unlike what you felt in the clearing when you were with Jake. Several bottles held mysterious items suspended in liquid, and you found yourself clutching onto Bradley, fingers twitching nervously as your heartbeat picked up.
“It looks abandoned,” Mickey muttered, eyeing a spider as it crept across a dusty, old book.
“I wonder who lived here,” you whispered, worried that something might be listening. A floorboard creaked from the far side of the room, and all of you turned to see a haggard-looking woman standing in the doorway. Hands flew to swords, and the woman let out a low chuckle.
“You won’t be needing weapons here, sailors,” she purred, her voice surprisingly pleasant sounding despite her outward appearance. Her hair was matted, crawling down the length of her back in black strands. Her skin was pale like moonlight, skin pulled tight against the bones that lay underneath. Her eyes glinted dangerously in the light, like the eyes of a predator ready to strike at the first opportunity. Despite all of it though, you could see that she had once been a beautiful woman.
“Who the hell are you?” Jake snapped, voice gruff with warning as he glared at her. She flashed him a sharp smile, lips pulled back almost too far as she regarded him with predatory eyes.
“I am one who watches over this place,” she said sweetly, hands gesturing all around her. Javy took a half step forward to stand at Jake’s back.
“Where are we?” The first mate asked, eyes hard as they watched the woman glide around the table that occupied the center of the room.
“You find yourselves at the isle where broken hearts go to rest, the poor dears,” she smiled, dark eyes shifting to stare straight at you. You stiffened in your spot next to Bradley, shuffling to try and hide behind him as best you could. The woman’s smile grew even wider, skin stretching in a way that it shouldn’t as her eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Your heart is so heavy,” she crooned, moving towards you, and your hands latched onto the back of Bradley’s shirt as her eyes danced with glee. “You’ll make a fine addition to my brood.”
“Not happening,” Bradley hissed, reaching an arm back to push you further behind him as he puffed out his chest, eyes narrowing at the woman in warning.
“It must be so lonely,” she continued, ignoring Bradley and the way they others shifted around the room, “to know that soon it will be just you who stands in this world. Those around you have fallen, left you for either the hereafter. And soon what you have left will fall to a curse that has nothing to do with you.”
Her words hung heavy in the air, your heart lurching in your chest as the weight of her words hit you, the familiar prickle starting in your eyes as you pressed your lips firmly together.
“That’s not going to happen,” you whispered weakly.
“Oh my sweet girl,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to touch you. “It will. When it does, I will be here to comfort you along with the others.”
“Who are the others?”
Her finger stopped only centimeters from you, her head turning slowly to lock on to Jake who still glared at her. She cocked her head to the side, the smile fading from her face as her features morphed from friendly to cold and calculating.
“Were you not listening?” She rasped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “The ones who live here have all suffered broken hearts.”
“We didn’t see anyone else on the island,” one of the crewman muttered towards Jake, but the woman ignored him. The smile slowly crawled across her face once more, though this was held promise of malice rather than the half-baked attempt at comfort she had given you.
“You are also one who is familiar with disappointment and heartbreak,” she sighed, walking slowly towards the captain. “You almost remind me of my son, the poor boy that he was.”
She stopped when Jake’s jaw clenched, glee returning to her dark eyes as she continued.
“Look at you,” she cooed at him, her saccharine tone sending another wave of chills down your spine. “What would your mother think of you now? The poor, bastard son she raised in his father’s house. Working night and day to earn her place as well as her son’s, your father never once acknowledging you as his own despite his lack of an heir.”
Jake’s nostrils flared as he glared at the woman, her lips curled into a dangerous smile as she let out a low chuckle.
“Your kind, loving mother doing everything she could to protect you from the reality of your situation,” she cooed. “But then she fell ill, didn’t she? And then she passed, and there was no one left to protect the child that you were. You were cast out of the only home you had ever known at only seven years, forced to wander the streets with any scraps you could find as your meals. It wasn’t until that old captain took you under his wing that you had a place to call home again.”
Jake said nothing, but if looks could kill, you were sure the woman would have died ten times over already. The woman clucked at him, smile once again fading, lips turned downward into a disappointed frown.
“Nothing to say about your poor, dead mother, hm?” She taunted, looking mildly put out at his lack of a reaction. Her eyes lit up suddenly, the smile returning once more.
“But that wasn’t your first encounter with heartbreak, was it?” She mused. “Not only have you suffered your own, but you’ve inflicted it on another, haven’t you?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Jake spat, fists clenched at his side, fingers twitching with restraint.
“Broken hearts are my business,” she huffed, eyes slowly shifting back towards you. “Has he ever told you why he was cursed?”
“He slept with the woman that Davy Jones was in love with,” you replied uneasily, glancing at Jake. The color had drained from his face as he watched the woman contort with laughter, the sound echoing through the room as she cackled.
“Is that all he told you?” She grinned, eyes shining wildly.
“Be quiet,” Jake snapped, stepping forward with a warning on his face. Fear ensnared his features.
“Why should I?” The woman grinned. “I think the truth deserved to be spoken. Her story deserves to be told.”
“Please don’t,” Jake begged, eyes darting between you and the woman now. “Please.”
“Davy Jones is not the kind of man to curse another because his affections are spurned,” the woman continued, ignoring the captain. “No, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to curse someone with no just cause. Jones was in love with the woman, yes, but he respected her choice enough to let her run into the arms of the man she had chosen.”
“Stop,” Jake murmured quietly, leaning against the table for support as he hung his head.
“So you do feel shame after all,” the woman cackled, though no humor was laced in her tone. “You know what you did was wrong. You knew she loved you, and like the vain, prideful youth you were, you threw her to the side once you had had your fill. No regards to the love she gave you, nothing in your heart for that woman. Tell me, did you feel anything for her before Davy Jones cursed you? Or is it the curse that made you see the error of your ways?”
“Enough,” he whispered, eyes pressed tightly shut as his shoulders hunched in on himself.
“Or perhaps,” the woman hummed thoughtfully, “it was the moment she threw herself off the cliffs into the water below that changed your heart.”
A/N: Wow, what a reveal! Can't wait to hear what y'all think of that one lol Anyway, gentle reminder that I no longer do tag lists! If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog: @sailoraviator-library and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator. Until next time!
#ff#fool's fare#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman fanfiction#top gun hangman#hangman top gun#top gun maverick fanfiction
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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀: 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝔾𝕠 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
synopsis: Even in your state, memories of your past can't help but flood your subconscious, as Neteyam has a conversation with his father that will change the way he's viewed the last seven years of his life.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death), strong language.
wc: 6.8k words
a/n: this chapter was written to pretty much be a mirror of last chapter, with the same concept of flashbacks vs present time, except this time we get to see Vi's memories from the 7 years they hated each other, which will hopefully provide context for why Neteyam's hatred doesn't only stem from that fateful conversation he overheard, but also from her petty, vindictive actions, that only grew as time went on. i hope you enjoy this chapter, besties (i feel very insecure about it so pls go easy on me, i'm still recovering hahaha) x there's only two chapters left, and i'm already sad about this story coming to an end, but i hope you enjoyed the ride. pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!
na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
But I never thought I'd live to see it break
Neteyam hasn’t blinked since the accident, it feels. He definitely hasn't blinked since he did last, when you opened your eyes and then closed them again, never to be opened since. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why it matters so much that he stays so acutely present and aware, so that his eyes are locked onto your sleeping frame, doesn’t know why the thought of falling asleep and missing you, missing your eyes fluttering open or staying shut forever hurts him so beyond reason or words, so beyond anything he’s ever known. So he hasn’t blinked. Everyone else was long gone, including his grandmother, who hurried to the tree of souls to pray for the safe return of her family and the rest of the brave Na’vi warriors who were still fighting in that wretched battle, the one that seemed never-ending, the one that riddled Neteyam with guilt for not taking part in.
“There’s nothing we can do for her now, ma ‘itan. She’s in Eywa’s hands now, we just have to wait and see.”
Neteyam hated those words. With a burning passion. Wait and see. So passive, so out of his control, so… hopeless. And yet here he was. Waiting, to see if you’d ever wake up, to see if his family, his mother and father, his friends, his clan members would survive the night and the challenge that might overtake them without him being there to help or stop it, or even witness it. Seeing, seeing you, powerless and lifeless, just a flicker of the bright spark you've always been, it stirred something in him.
You were so beautiful. He hated himself for realising it, but you were. You always have been, and although so much of your beauty came from the soul that was wild and untamed and too big to be contained inside you, still, you were beautiful. And like this, no usual frown or defiant smirk that you reserved for him, he could focus on your face and realise that you haven’t changed that much in all these years, not as much as he has led himself to believe in time. Like this, in this light, with a peaceful look on your face, eyelashes casting shadows over your lapis cheeks, your tahni glowing dimly and flickering softly, your lips slightly parted as you breathed in and out, you reminded him a lot of the Vi he used to love, the Vi before the ugly fights, and the constant war, before the hurt and the pain, before every day was just another opportunity to see who could hurt the other the most. He always thought you won those, all of those.
“T-tey…”
His musings come to a swift closure as your lips move minutely, air barely getting pushed past them. You were speaking, and he felt himself coming back to life with each sound coming out of your mouth.
“Teyam…”
It's getting dark and it's all too quiet
And I can't trust anything now
And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake
“Teyam…”
You wake up in a sweat, like you did most days these days since the Iknimaya, whimpering the name of the boy you used to call your best friend, that you no longer could, for reasons you still couldn’t understand, that you feared more and more you never would. In your dreams, you fight and make up, and he tells you he’s sorry and that it was just a misunderstanding and that he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back, because just like you’ve gotten used to over the last few years, you two will always be bound by the hip and there was nothing that could ever come between you. It was a nice sentiment, but one that never manifested itself to you in any waking moment, as, since your Iknimaya, Neteyam has treated you like a stranger, like an ugly thought he fought his hardest to banish from his mind.
With a deep sigh, you put new clothes on and struggled to eat a few pieces of yovo fruit you picked up off the floor on your last hunt. You missed the food Neytiri made, and although they still brought you nourishment fresh every time they made it, it wasn’t the same without the familial, loving atmosphere you’ve come to rely on all these years, so you barely touched it, choosing instead to give it to the other orphans of the war that hadn't been as fortunate as you. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to them, no matter how many times they asked. Not when you knew that if you did, you’d be met with a dead stare you couldn’t handle looking into, not without crying, and there’s nothing you hated more than crying in front of people. There’s nothing you hated more than showing weakness, and he didn’t deserve to see you weak. Not anymore.
Days dragged in training without someone to help time pass faster, without someone to brighten up your days, but they did pass. You had to sit next to Neteyam in briefings and in shooting practice, your ikran still played with each other even mid flight until one of you had to will them away from one another so as to avoid an awkward interaction, his presence and spirit was everywhere around you and in you and yet, it’s like you didn’t exist in his life anymore.
"Come over for dinner, kid. It's been weeks. We miss having you."
You didn't know how many more excuses you could come up with to not do as Jake said, although you did suspect they knew about your and Neteyam's fallout. It was hard not to know, when the air shifted whenever you were in each other's presence, when it became icy and glacial and empty like a vast, cold tundra that you couldn't escape no matter how much you tried.
"Jake..."
"I know, you're sick and you don't want to get Tuk sick, you're too tired for food so you're just gonna crash in your tent, you have discovered a new allergy to an ingredient that Neytiri uses that's never been a problem in the years we've known you, but it suddenly is now... still, just come, okay?"
"Look, I promised your dad I'd take care of you. I can't do that if you're gonna push us away. Whatever it is between you and Neteyam... it will pass. You love each other too much for it not to pass. But hiding, moping, walking 'round looking hopeless and aimless - it isn't you. I need you to be the spark I know and love and fight. You've never gone down without a fight - don't start now. Ok?"
“Ma ‘itan.”
Neteyam’s eyes snapped in the direction of the tent flap prying open, his mother’s lean, graceful figure emerging and he immediately rose from his spot to hurry to her side and envelop her in a hug they both desperately needed. She was fine. She was here, and walking and standing… alive. She was alive.
“Sa’nok! Where’s father? What took so long? Is everyone ok? I am -”
“Shh, Neteyam.” His mother was a warrior, always. She was strong and capable and skilled, she was tough and knowledgeable. And yet somehow, beneath it all, she was still soft and kind and caring and empathetic, she knew exactly what her kids always felt, and she knew exactly what to say to make it better. When she her hand found the back of his neck, guiding him into her embrace, his face gently tucked in the crook of her neck, Neteyam found himself sobbing, finally able to let the pent-up emotion surface, all the anger, and sadness and guilt, and relief the last few days have brought washing over him and onto his mother’s shoulders, and she cooed affectionately, not saying a word. She knew there was no need for words, no words could ever made this better.
“She’s dead, mum. Oare’s dead.”
“I know…”
“Please tell me everyone’s alright. Please.”
“It will all be alright, son. Everything will be alright.”
It will be alright… Everything will be alright.
Oh, I'm holding my breath
Won't lose you again
Something's made your eyes go cold
“Alright, now that you’re back in our tent, where you belong, we thought we’d celebrate both your and Neteyam’s incredible iknimaya! You both did phenomenally, kids, and we are so, so proud of you both. The youngest to ever have done it, too! I mean, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty sure it’s all my training regi-“
Jake ceased his monologue as soon as he noticed the dead silence in the tent, and the awkward looks that Neytiri kept shooting him when she discerned both your and Neteyam’s gazes stuck to the floor, a cold look on his face and an uncomfortable one on yours, neither of you in a celebratory mood, neither really ready or willing to relive the Iknimaya and how a beautiful, ethereal day turned into a nightmare in hindsight, plagued forever by the ill-feelings now tugging at both of your hearts.
You stared at Neteyam, as did most of his family, even the young Lo’ak who could not truly understand what was happening, why people were quiet, but could still feel the atmosphere shift, the air thicken, the silence linger and weigh heavily on all the people present in the room. Despite it all, you kept staring, kept hoping that throughout the newfound ice that enveloped the golden aura that he always exuded, that was your home and your light, your biggest question and adventure, your safety net and peace all in one, the memory of that night, so beautiful and far-removed, would bring him back to the boy you loved, the boy you needed, the boy you missed.
He was silent, still, a frown on his face and anger clear as day in his beautiful eyes, that you barely recognised, that you couldn’t believe belonged to Neteyam, your 'teyam. You kept staring and kept staring, until you felt the so-far unflinching sadness and despondency stew and seethe, until it changed and evolved, until you felt the familiar bubbling of anger remove reason or rhyme from your soul, until all you saw in front of your eyes was red, and Neteyam was the one taunting you with the blood-coloured cloth dangled in front of your face. Neteyam wanted this? Wanted to dismiss you and discard you like a toy he outgrew? Fine. You would make sure he regretted it - you have always been wild and creative, and without him, you now had heaps of time to be both, at the same time, all towards him.
“Thank you, Jake. We couldn’t have done without your help and guidance all these years. Thank you for everything you and Neytiri and Mo’at have done for me, and I’m happy to tell you that, despite my momentary lapse in judgement, I am not going anywhere. I want to be here, I want to be part of your family if you want to have me, and I will let nothing stand in the way of that.”
As you talked, you rose from your spot to hug your adoptive parents, and they happily returned the gesture, pulling you tightly against their chests and pecking the top of your head. Lo’ak and Kiri joined enthusiastically and before long, you were suffocating in love and care and familial affection, Neteyam nowhere to be found. You were sad about it, you couldn’t help it, but for the first time in weeks the sadness was second-place, and so you found a small smirk haunting you at the prospect you were hurting him even a small amount - maybe a small fraction to the hurt he’s caused you, but there nonetheless.
“Also… do I get a special reward for beating the Iknimaya in record time, the fastest it’s ever been done? I feel like I’m well on the way to stealing Neteyam’s spot as the next Olo’eykte. Wouldn’t that be just a riot?”
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
You're all I wanted
"How is she?" Neteyam's eyes were heavier by the second, so tired and spent in light of everything that's transpired, in light of the bustling of crowds outside meeting what remained of the Na'vi forces that fought in a battle that while Neteyam wasn't sure, he suspected took more lives than he'll ever be able to live with. Kiri was quiet as she entered, and Neteyam was grateful for his sister, who stood with him most of the night, who checked in on you while the Tsa'hik was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.
"The same, I think. She hasn't woken up, I don't think. She hasn't moved."
Kiri walked the length of the tent until she reached you, kneeling by your side and pressing the back of her palm on your forehead. She had something wrapped in a leaf that replaced her hand and Neteyam watched with curious eyes, hoping that by paying special attention to whatever remedy that was, it would work harder and faster, would bring you back screaming and thrashing and cursing him out, because if there's something that he's realised since your accident, it was that anything was better than the deafening silence that he couldn't escape and couldn't imagine living in for a second longer than he had to. Anything was better than this.
"Her fever's not going down. I think whatever it was she scratched herself on while she fell was poisonous. That, combined with the impact of the fall... she's lucky she's alive, Neteyam."
Neteyam couldn't help the shudder that took over his body. He didn't have any hair, the way that humans did, but he imagined if he did, it would all be standing up like blades of grass on the ground, taut and barely-moving in the warm breeze. He shifted slightly so Kiri could perch herself next to him, arms touching as she leaned on him, before placing her head on his shoulder.
"Why are you still here, big brother?"
Neteyam thought about it, until he couldn't anymore, because the thoughts weren't making sense, because they all contradicted each other, because he was tired and heartbroken and distraught, and losing Oare was obviously making him soft and delusional.
"You know you're in love with her, right? Please tell me you realise this, at least now, after all this time, in light of everything that's happened, in light of how you've acted it because of it. It's been so long, Neteyam. So long of us watching you be horrible to each other and hope that one day, you'd both wake up and realise the only reason you're acting like this is because you're too blind to see what's right in front of your eyes."
Neteyam's eyes widened progressively more with each word uttered, until they were so wide it hurt. To hear it out loud, spoken so casually, as if it were a fact, shocked the Sully man. Us? Who else thought this? Who else could possibly be blind enough to perpetuate such disparaging ideas that made Neteyam's skin crawl even at the notion.
"I'm not in love with her, Kiri. I can't be in love with her. After everything she's done... everything I've done... this can't be love. Maybe it was, once. Maybe I loved her once. Maybe I loved her so much I couldn't imagine my life without her." Neteyam sighed, looking at your face, tears pooling in his eyes as early memories of young Vi juxtaposed against later memories of you, so many memories he wanted to forget and banish from his mind, so many cruel, harmful, ugly memories that made up most of his view of you now. "But not anymore."
Kiri rises from her spot with a sigh, patting her brother's head with an exasperated sigh, before she leaves.
"You haven't moved. You haven't slept or eaten, you haven't blinked. Our parents need your help bringing back the injured, the clan needs your help as the future Olo'eyktan, and yet... you haven't moved. I think that says everything. The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one, brother. The sooner you admit your feelings, the sooner you can work towards fixing your broken relationship."
Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had
But I still mean every word I said to you
He will try to take away my pain and he just might make me smile
But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead
Desire burning deep in you was the only thing you felt as Akxo continued to trail kisses on your neck, a string of saliva connecting the purple lovebites that still stung slightly from when he marked you with them just a few minutes ago. With your eyes closed as they were, it was almost easy to imagine you were all alone, just you and this guy you’ve known your whole life but only recently realised had become a man, powerful and strong after just completing his Uniltaron just a few days ago. Despite your imagination, though, you were, in fact, not alone, nor isolated, but in plain view, propped against a tree of the clearing where you all trained in, that still had people working hard to improve on their skills, which is probably what you should be doing. But there was something so innately satisfying about doing this instead, as soon as Jake had to leave and tend to his other Olo’eyktan duties and left you and Neteyam in charge, doing it so he could watch, so he could stew in the bile that was his existence and know there’s nothing he could do to stop it, because he had no leverage over you and no power to hold over your head. Not now, and never again.
Jake had been wrong. Whatever it was that happened between Neteyam and you didn’t pass, not a few months and definitely not now, years later. If anything, it got a lot, lot worse. Because while in the beginning it was uncomfortable silence and cold and unwieldy dejection, it was now fire and blood, it was teeth and claws, it was anger and resentment. You recognised a lot of it came from you. Most of it came from you. Because Jake might have been wrong about some things, but he was right about others. You’ve never gone down without a fight - and if a fight was what Neteyam wanted all this time, a fight was what he was going to get. Because while he might have been comfortable with the quiet, you wanted yelling and chaos, to reflect the hurt in your heart that hasn’t diminished even after all this time. You wanted to make him pay for banishing you from his mind and heart, from his life that you used to know so intimately, and you were good at payback, and continued to get better over time.
“Are you trying to derail this whole fucking training session?” His voice, that you wanted to say hurt your ears, but if you were honest with yourself, it never could, not when it was melodic and beautiful, not when it still haunted your dreams, made Akxo straighten up faster than you could tell him to not bother, and you chuckled, a low and humourless sound that you’ve come to associate with dealing with Neteyam.
“Don’t tell me you can’t ever handle a bunch of 13 year olds, Neteyam. I knew you couldn’t do anything right without me, but still, this is low, even for you.”
“Akxo, I don’t think I’m making myself clear. She may be immune from the Olo’eyktan’s judgement, but you, my friend, are not. I’m sure there’s better ways to spend your days than wasting your breath on her. Trust me, she’s not worth it.”
“Ah, Neteyam, there’s no need to be bitter.” Your smirk only deepened as you ran your hands over your new flame’s abdomen. “One day, you too will find someone who won’t recoil at the thought of being in your presence, but you might need to work a little harder to not be so hard to stomach all the time for that to happen. I can coach you if you want, I mean… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to help you, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
I know, I know
I just know
You're not gone, you can't be gone, no
“These are the last of them.” Neteyam tried not to recoil in agony at the sight of so many dead Na’vi and pa’li, so many ikran, so much loss, more than anyone should ever know, but especially their tribe, that has had to come to terms with grief in a way most other tribes aren’t, in a way that’s unnatural and premature and wrong. It was all so wrong.
Kiri was right, he had to help. He had to help not because it was his duty, but because it was right. He couldn’t keep looking at you, not when every second he did, Kiri’s words rang in his ears and made his eardrums pound so hard it felt like they were about to explode, not when every second he spent thinking of you was making him feel a mix of emotions that he didn’t, couldn’t understand, not when the exhaustion from the last few days made him question himself and ponder if his sister was indeed right all along. So Neteyam left you in that tent and put you under lock and key in the back of his mind, and dealt with the immeasurable loss that once more plagued his clan.
“Nawm Sa'nok, why?! My son, my son! There is supposed to be a balance! This isn't balance!” The wails of the woman, whom he’s known ever since he was born, that he can still remember playing with him when she brought his son over his family’s tent, hurt beyond comprehension. The usual peaceful, harmonious laughter and chatter intertwined with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and soft, distant songs of animals and birds were gone, drowned by the cries and screams by the people that were trying to identify the dead, and figure out if life would ever be the same again.
"Neteyam, ma 'itan. He's gone, he's gone! Oh, Great Mother!"
Neteyam's breath got pushed out of his lungs at the impact of her body crashing into him, that he struggled to keep upright as she was buckling under the weight of her loss. Her son was a good warrior, and a friend. He couldn't come to terms with his death, couldn't understand what was truly going on, his mind almost protecting him from the overwhelming grief by numbing his thoughts, by removing him slightly from the realities clearly displayed to him, that he experienced almost like in a dream.
"It's going to be alright, auntie. We're all going to be alright." His mother's words, a mantra he repeated to himself every second, now the only thing that he could utter, the only thing that didn't feel redundant... even though it was.
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
Won't finish what you started
Well, here you were, ready to eat your words, as the curiosity got the better of you and you found yourself sneaking to Neteyam’s new hiding spot, that he didn’t know you knew about, that you found yourself coming to a bit too often to call it nonchalance and yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was an itch you had to scratch, seeing what he was doing, who he was with, finding new ammunition for your petty revenge, it was all for research purposes, you always told yourself.
Whatever you saw here, and there were some wild things, you always kept quiet and left without ever being spotted, maintaining your cover and whatever dignity you knew would disappear if your friends found out you were stooping so low. But somehow, right now, watching as Neteyam was whispering sweet nothings in a stupid little healer’s ears, telling her how good she’s taking his cock and watching her eyes roll back in her head, your blood was boiling.
You didn’t know why it was boiling, it’s not like you haven’t seen him fuck girls before, or try to, it’s not like this was a completely unusual occurrence, but it was new just how into it the girl seemed to be. How desperate for his touch, how needy to feel him. Your fingers twisted around a branch so hard it snapped and you ducked as their heads snapped into the direction of the noise. You were just mad that you lost a subject that you knew got under his skin. That’s it. That must be it, not at all because your mind was conjuring all the ways that you should be in that girl’s shoes, and how he should be making you feel this way. No man’s ever made you feel this way. No man’s ever made you cry, the way she was crying, gripping at his back and shoulders so hard his skin was broken and bleeding. You hated him, that’s all. That’s why your blood was boiling.
Well, he wouldn’t get the last word, not if you had anything to do with it. You returned to your spot around an hour later, half happy, half annoyed out of your mind that they were still going at it, and she was still screaming and crying, and he was still whispering praises in her ears, although they did have the decency to change position so at least you couldn’t see much anymore. With a wide smirk on your lips, you waited, until the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the endless green forest.
"Neteyam, are you there?"
Jake sounded angry, and you stifled an evil laugh as you saw them both scramble to untangle themselves from each other and from the floor, the girl's cries no longer of pleasure as she couldn't figure out how to tie her top around her neck anymore.
"Nete-, oh, my fucking God!" English came naturally to Jake, even 20 years later, whenever he was feeling any extreme emotion, and you were happy for the strenuous effort you put into learning it as a child just for this one moment, right here. This was all worth it. "Kole, your mother was looking for you. Can you just- oh, fuck - can you just go and meet her, please?"
"Yes, of course, ma Olo'eyktan."
You were still grinning about the interaction and the ass kicking that followed a couple days later, as you came back to your tent for the night. The smile faded progressively as you neared the entrance, as small whimpers and pleasured groans could be discerned vaguely, coming from behind your tent, a small nook that only you really knew about or frequented, that now was obviously occupied, by a person whose voice you recognised all too well. No way. Sure enough, as you snuck around the tent, a continuation of whatever it was you interupted a couple days ago was well underway, and you bit down a curse, enraged at the way not only did you not, in the end, get the last word, but Neteyam's new hiding spot was just about to ruin whatever remainder of peace and sanity you had left.
When you entered your tent, a small piece of paper with some writing rested on your sleeping mat, yet another human skill Jake insisted on his family to know, that you now regretted.
"This is for ruining my hiding spot. Enjoy hearing all the girls who don't recoil at the thought of being in my presence."
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Can't breathe whenever you're gone
Can't go back, I'm haunted
Neteyam watched as his father entered the tent, a heaviness that he rarely lets people be privy to wearing him down and slouching his shoulders. Neteyam couldn’t imagine what his father was going through, couldn’t imagine how someday, he’ll have to bear this burden and do it well, do it honourably and proudly and still keep a head held high and keep it all together so other people can fall apart around him.
Neteyam had mostly love for his dad - deep, unconditional love that will never falter, not even in the face of adversity, or in the face of the deep seeded resentment that Neteyam still had after the years of torturous training, of pressure put on his very young shoulders, of guilt-tripping and being blamed for his brother’s mistakes, of being pushed aside and replaced with you, the perfect daughter who could do no wrong in his father’s eyes. Even despite all of this, Neteyam loved his dad. And yet, watching him come in, sad and worried sick about you, his lips pursed in a straight line, words on his tongue that Neteyam knew were coming and was terrified of… the love faltered just a little.
“Mo’at said she got poisoned falling off her ikran.”
“Yes. Oare’s dead.”
“I saw her in the line-up.” His father turned his sights from you to his oldest son, sighing as his eyes set on him, anger flashing in his eyes briefly before composing himself.
“What the hell happened out there, Neteyam? We were counting on you. On both of you.”
Neteyam had no answer to that. He’s tried so hard to bury the thoughts, because he knew that if he succumbed to them, the guilt would eat him alive and pick its teeth with what remained of his frail bones. He didn’t think of how this was his fault, your fault, how if these stupid fights, that now seemed meaningless and daft, didn’t occupy so much space and time in both your minds, you would have slept, you would have not been tired and distracted, Oare wouldn’t have felt the nerves and fears emanating from you, and you would’ve done what you do best, inspire some people, kill others, be next to Jake, like you always were, like Neteyam was normally next to his mother, and get it done. The two of you were indispensable to the clan, as much was clear now. And although it wasn't fair, how much pressure there was on both your shoulders, it was the way things were. And now both of you will have to live with the consequences of your actions, will have to find a way to look the people in the eye again, knowing that you directly caused their family’s demise and the clan’s sorrow.
“Do you understand how serious this is, Neteyam? We lost good people today. Good people, strong people, dependable people. And the two people who I counted on the most left us all for dead, to fend for ourselves. This isn’t what I taught you. This isn’t who I raised, Neteyam. Even Lo’ak pulled his weight. We’re going to be reeling from these losses for the rest of our lives, and this has set us back months, and I need you to understand the weight of your actions.”
Another sigh and a frown that aged the Olo’eyktan by a good 10 years was the last sign of disapproval before his attempt to leave Neteyam by himself, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t know whether it was his words, or the continuous battle with you that he’s had to fight for the last 7 years, all years in which he’s felt heartbroken, and resentful, and inadequate, and pushed to the side, and ignored, and worked to the bone for very little appreciation, or the fatigue wearing him down, or the loss of your ikran, or the guilt that’s been gnawing at him long before his father’s contribution, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam’s anger was directed at someone else rather than you.
“Understand the weight of my actions? Do you hear yourself right now? This whole mess, this whole shitshow that I’ve gone through, that we’ve both gone through, it’s all your fault. All of it. This is going to weigh on me just as much as it will weigh on you, and the loss of these people, of Eywa’s children, will haunt me for the rest of my life. Of our lives. So don’t sit there and talk to me about responsibility, and about losing people.” He couldn’t help look at your unconscious form, that more and more felt like your own body was trying to protect you from the sadness that would wait for you when you woke. “I lost the person I loved the most, that was my shelter from the storm, a storm you caused. All you do is push me, and push us, and I’m so fucking tired of it.” a sob is all it took for his father to rush to his side, concern and confusion deeply rooted on his face as it met Neteyam’s, when his hands found his face and rose it to his level.
“What are you talking about, son?”
Neteyam’s chest was heaving with unshed tears as he looked in his father’s eyes through the fractured, refracted lens of the liquid threatening to spill.
“I heard you.” One tear. “That night, the night after the Iknimaya.” Two tears. “I heard you telling grandmother how you want her to be Olo’eykte in my stead. How she deserves it.” Six tears. “I heard you… as you told her Vi would never have me. That she said she would never want to be my mate.” Too many tears to count.
“Oh, Neteyam…”
“I worked so hard, my whole life. I sacrificed more than anybody I know. And I did it all to please you, to live up to you. I did so you’d be proud of me, so you’d love me, and accept me. I did it all so I’d a good leader, a worthy Olo’eyktan, someone the clan can rely on to protect them.
I spent my whole childhood crying and aching, hating my life, wishing I could be anyone else instead, but I thought it would all be worth it one day because you told me as much, and that I have a title to live up to. And then I met Vi, and she changed everything… and I loved her, dad. And in one night you managed to take everything away from me.
Do you have any idea what that did to me? What the next seven years, in which we hated each other and competed for your love and praise, for your attention and affection, did to me? I’m there for everybody all the time. Every day and night, I am here for you, and for mum. I am here for Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk. I am here for the clan. I am the mighty soldier, the doting brother, the dutiful son, the concerned clan member, the understanding karyu, the unbroken arrow in the quiver of your army.
Do you know there’s not a single day that I don’t hurt, that it doesn’t kill me inside, little by little, without a single soul to talk to, that cares or bothers to listen to my struggles?”
Sometime during that monologue, that Neteyam’s kept in his soul his whole life, he found himself in his father’s embrace, who was quiet and listened, who said nothing and just waited. Neteyam was sobbing in his father’s shoulder now, and he couldn’t find it in him to stop, like a spring that was buried underground with none the wiser until poked in just the right way, with unending streams now able to either fill a dam or flood a village.
“Neteyam… fuck. I’m so sorry, son. I didn’t know. Any of it, I didn’t know. Neteyam… you never said anything. You never brought up that night, and I wish you did, son… I wish you did because if you had, then you would know that those words that you heard… those words weren’t mine, Neteyam.”
There are very few moments where Neteyam feels like his soul has somehow exited his body and he’s experiencing a moment almost like from outside himself, like a stranger looking in. That’s how he felt now, as he could see himself removing his head from his father’s embrace, a dazed and almost uncharacteristic expression trying him.
“What did you say?”
“That night, if I remember correctly… we were talking about how well you did, both of you, in the Iknimaya. We were laughing at the fact you were both late, how I’d have to pretend to be mad and punish you, when in reality I not only expected it, but almost desired it, that you took that day to enjoy yourselves, to feel free of some of the burden I know I’ve placed on you.
I was reminded, seeing her, of her dad. Her dad who asked me to take care of her before he passed. Of the words he told me. That even back then, as nothing more than a child, he knew that she was special. That under other circumstances, she would have, no doubt in his mind, become the next Olo’eykte. That she was born for it, made for it. Those words always echoed in my ears as I watched her grow, and seen for myself the talent that comes so rarely, it seems almost like a fable. That I only ever saw in you. I considered it, making you both leaders at the same time - unheard of, maybe, but you both deserve it, you’re both made for it, and you used to complete each other, like two pieces of a perfectly fitted puzzle. That’s it, son. I would never want to replace you, Neteyam. I would never even think of it. Not only because you are my son, but because you are the greatest person I've ever met. Because there's no one else, there can be no one else.”
Neteyam saw his face drop, his entire body shuddering under the weight of the new information, that changed everything, that he could have known all these years and yet didn’t, that shifted Neteyam’s whole world on its axis yet again and he almost wanted to reach out and console himself, the man that looked as young and scared as a pup lost in the woods, like he used to look all the time before he met you, like he swore to himself he’d never look like again after he lost you. His dad didn’t want to replace him. He never wanted to replace him. What was he supposed to do now, with this momentous information that he never thought he’d get to hear?
“I’m so sorry, son, that you’ve had to bear this weight all by yourself. I’m sorry for my contribution in it, and that I failed to see how I made it all so much harder to stomach. Your mother and I love you so, so much, Neteyam, and we want to be there for you, but, son… you don’t talk to us. You keep everything buried inside. We can’t help what we don’t know. We try our best, and we’re so sorry we failed you… that I failed you. And about Vi… Neteyam, you have to speak with her. You’ve carried this in you for far too long. You need to let it out. Let her explain. Let her give you an answer, or closure.”
“What if she doesn’t wake up?”
Neteyam didn’t know if his dad was saying this more to his son or to himself, but right now, it didn’t matter.
“She will, son. She’ll wake up.”
The only other time Neteyam's left you since the accident was after the talk, the overwhelming urge to wash his face at the nearby river finally too great to be ignored. The water helped a little. It grounded him and nourished him, as much as it could, and Neteyam was slightly taken aback at the way his soul felt just slightly lighter, how his father's words, and the conversation he should have had years ago and didn't, changed so much in his mind. His father was right. Kiri was right. It was time to talk. Years and years of torture and pain, and it was finally time to talk. He just hoped you'd actually be there to listen.
Neteyam was startled by a frenzied Lo'ak, rushing to his side, panting as he put a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath as he spoke.
"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"
"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"
"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."
You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
Never ever thought I'd see it break
Never thought I'd see it
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Congratulations on 1k! It's impressive how many different genres your AUs have covered with such fun stories
For the ficletbuild a prompt game, perhaps F "Where's your sense of adventure?" + 🧜♂️Just add water? Vibes and item are dealers choice :)
Thank you so much, I love trying new things and exploring different universes and themes. Hope you like what I've come up with, I've been wanting to write this for a while. 🧜♂️❤️
Night swimming
Rated: T
Words: 1,000
Tags: Established relationship; mer!Steve Harrington; sexually explicit language; nudity
Notes: Bonus drabble to Just add water
“Okay, not to sound ungrateful,” Eddie mutters, huddling deeper into his flannel. Summer is well and truly over and the nights are getting chilly, especially out here on the water. “I appreciate this whole three-month anniversary surprise date, I really do. But couldn’t you have gone for dinner and a movie perhaps?”
“Nah,” Steve smiles. He stops rowing, pulling the oars into the boat and leaving them floating on the surface of the moonlit lake. “It had to be here. This is where I fell for you, where we first kissed. First made love. C’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Back at the shore, probably.” Eddie pretends to shiver, even though his face has gone hot at Steve’s casual mention of their first time. “Where all of that stuff actually happened, by the way, so I still don’t get why you needed to row us out here. Now where’s that surprise you promised me?”
“Patience,” Steve scolds, leaning closer on the rickety bench so that he can press a kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I'm getting there.”
Then, without further preamble, he starts stripping.
“What the-” Eddie blurts as Steve’s sweater hits him in the face. “No way, forget it. We're not fucking in the middle of the-”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, who said anything about fucking?” Steve rolls his eyes, shrugging out of his jeans and underpants. “We’re going for a swim.”
And then, before Eddie has a chance to stop him, he dives headfirst into the dark lake. Eddie yelps and clenches his eyes shut as the boat rocks. When he opens them, Steve is just emerging again. He laughs and shakes the water from his hair, happy like a fish in the water, which … okay, yeah. That's actually an apt comparison, considering the giant, glistening tail and the fucking fins that have taken the place of his legs.
You'd think that after three months, a guy would get used to his boyfriend being a real-life mermaid. No such luck, apparently, because Eddie still finds himself as dumbstruck as the first time as Steve swims closer and casually rests his arms on the edge of the boat. The patch of scales on his temples shimmers in the pale light.
“Not coming in?”
Eddie grins, trying to ignore the way his heart hammers against his ribcage.
“Nuh-uh, fish boy. Don't wanna freeze to death. You have fun, I'll take care of the food.”
He has just bent over to retrieve the huge picnic basket from the hull of the boat when Steve says, “Oh, you thought that was for you?”
Eddie whips his head up, mouth already open around a question- … which turns into a garbled half-scream when he sees what has appeared beside Steve.
A gleaming pair of eyes, each roughly the size of a saucer.
Eddie blinks. The eyes blink back. There's two pairs of lids on each, the inner one a thin, translucent membrane.
“She's been dying to meet you,” Steve smiles. “Say hi?”
“Hrrrrrrgh,” Eddie says.
The creature makes a sound - a long, high-pitched trill. Steve chimes in with a laugh of his own, and wait, do they think this is funny?
Steve sees the scowl on his face and tilts his head. “C’mon, Eds, don't be like that. You've seen her before.”
“Yeah, from a distance,” Eddie squeaks, finally finding his voice again. “Not like this. Jeez, warn a guy! What happened to meeting the family first?”
The creature makes an affronted sound and Steve pets her large, arrow-shaped head.
“Of course you are family, he's just a bit confused,” he tells her. She grumbles and he turns to Eddie with a chuckle. “Uh-oh, you'd better apologize.”
Eddie stares. Steve’s eyes flick down to the picnic basket.
“Ugh, alright,” Eddie mutters. He reaches down to flip the lid open, steeling himself for the sight of slimy fish heads, only to be met with… “Fruit? She eats fruit?”
Steve shrugs. “She's an ombi- … obvy- … she eats everything, really. Oh, give her the watermelon, she loves those.”
Eddie obeys, because why wouldn't he? If your mermaid boyfriend tells you to feed the friendly lake monster a watermelon, you feed the lake monster the goddamn watermelon. It's only logical.
The melon is about as large as his head. He lifts it, and a long neck comes curling out of the water, until those eerie eyes are level with his - and then higher still, so he's looking up at them. It's a weird feeling, being face to face with this creature who's so much older than him - older than the lake itself, maybe - holding out the fruit to her like an offering. Awe, he realizes. He's feeling awed in the truest and most original sense of the word.
And then she bends down and plucks the melon from his hands. Something crunches and Eddie shrieks in surprise and disgust as a shower of juice and seeds descends on him. The creature swallows, blinks her glowing, double-lidded eyes at him one last time, and then she's gone, slipping back under the surface of the lake with barely a ripple.
“Huh,” Eddie exhales a shaky laugh. “That went pretty-”
The world tilts.
His scream turns into a wet gargle as he hits the water, but Steve has him under the arms and is pulling him up to straddle his tail before he can go under. He sees Eddie’s shocked face and laughs, gently combing dark strands soaked in lake water and melon juice out of his face.
“That went fantastically,” he says, grin wide and brilliant and incredibly proud. It makes Eddie’s heart kick in his chest, just a little. “She really likes you!”
Eddie spits out a mouthful of water.
“What, really? Is it just her or do all of your family members have such an odd way of showing it?”
Steve hums, a bit nervously perhaps, and pulls Eddie's shivering body closer to his chest.
“Well, wait until you meet my mom.”
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#1k followers#Hype's 1k follower ficlets
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almost lost you {s.h}
Plot: You're Steve Harrington's best friend so of course you're going to follow him into the depths of the lake and into the Upside Down. He's pissed that you've risked your life for him but when he sees that you're injured, your relationship shifts.
Character: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Female Reader
Warnings; MDNI, 18+, SMUT, NSFW, blood, wounds, gore, sex, soft sex
Word count: 11.6k
this is my favourite thing i've ever written
Of course you'd followed him down here, of course you weren't just going to leave your best friend to drown and/or be taken to the Upside Down and be killed. You were never a strong swimmer but you'd be damned if you weren't going to save that stupid boy. Reacting on blind adrenaline, you abandon your jacket in the boat, grab an oar and then you dive into the lake.
The water is freezing, prickling your skin like needles, but you barely register it. You have to get to him. It's a lot deeper than you expected and by the time you reach the red, glowing gate your lungs burn for sweet oxygen. Grimacing, your hand reaches out, pushing through the fleshy gate before you push your entire self through and all you can think in that moment is that you hope there's no more swimming involved.
Your back hits cold hard ground as you lay there gasping for air, thankfully no more water. You'd landed on concrete. It doesn't take long before you jump up, dripping wet and undeniably in the Upside Down, and start hitting everything in sight. They were like bats with big wings and long tails and they swarm you. You whack them with everything you have before they break away and then you see Steve a few metres away. He's being choked, strangled by one of the bat's tails, arms and legs flailing to find something to get it off of him. You spring into action, barrelling over to the bat and hitting with all of the strength you could muster. Bats swarm and attack you with teeth like razors slicing into your skin but you couldn't care about that now. You have to help Steve. With a final thwack! the bat that had been strangling him dropped down, releasing Steve's neck. It lay on the ground, twitching and making a faint screeching noise so you whack it a few more times making sure it's finally dead before dropping to Steve, "Are you okay?!"
"I told you not to follow me!" His voice is a croaky yell as he pants hard, "You shouldn't be in here! Not you!"
"You think I'm not going to follow you into the depths of hell? Oh, Harrington, we're too far into this friendship for that. I'd follow you to Mordor." He rolls his eyes at your Lord of the Rings reference, far too used to you and your nerdy comments.
"It's too dangerous-" he cuts himself off, realising that blood dribbles from various cuts on your arms, "You're bleeding."
"I'm fine," you tell him strongly and honestly you do feel fine. The adrenaline is coursing around your body and right now, you don't feel any of the wounds, "I'm fine. They're just scratches." He accepts this, leaning back to take deep breaths as the rest of your friends appear each more horrified than the last (Eddie's last to come and judging by his scream of 'what the fucking shit is this?!' you can tell he's pretty freaked), "Can you stand?"
He nods and with your outstretched hand, you help him up. Once he's up, he looks around, "You all came down?"
Eddie runs his hands through his wild curls, "Dude, they all came down and I didn't want to be the only one not here."
The five of you look around. It's terrifying down here. The whole place looks familiar but it just feels off; uncanny valley or whatever they call it. It looks like Hawkins but an evil version of it. The sky crackles above you, lightning and thunder casting an eerie red glow over the Upside Down town. You look to the ground and see that the tendrils, the long fleshy veins, are everywhere.
"Be careful where you step," Nancy says, "it's a hivemind so it's all connected. You step on it, it knows we're here." Everyone knows it's more so pointed at Robin who can never seem to keep her balance even when standing perfectly still.
Robin nods, "I can do that," she murmurs to herself as the five of you begin to walk in the direction of the Creel House. You don't know who she's trying to convince more; the four of you or herself.
There's an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve's shoulder brushes yours and you immediately feel the dread die down for a moment. You breathe in a deep breath and puff out your chest as you continue walking.
As the lot of you tread through the Upside Down, you begin to feel slightly hazy, just around the edges at first as though you've just woken up and you're trying to shake off the tired and then it wrapped you up all at once. One minute you're beside him and the next, you've dropped to the floor, eyes rolling. Steve yells out, alerting his friends, as he falls beside you, hands on your cheeks. He's shouting your name, shaking you when he realises that your jeans at the thigh are dark and wet... you're bleeding. He pulls back the fabric and sees a large bite wound. He'd known you'd gotten scratched but you'd told him it was fine, not sore and not deep. He mentally curses you.
"I can help," Nancy says quickly as she rips her shirt, pulling a thick part of fabric off, "Move out the way and I'll bandage her leg."
Steve shakes his head, "I have to do it." He can't lose you; he has to be the one who saves you. He has to be the one to do it. He keeps talking to you, asking if you can hear him but you're not waking up. Panic surges inside of him, heart beating quicker as he stares down at you. Why aren't you waking up?
His hands are clumsy and shaking as Nancy hands him the piece of fabric from her now ripped shirt. Four years into this and they'd still never thought to bring a first aid kit wherever they went. The ripped cloth of the t-shirt would have to do and once tied tight, it would at least apply pressure and hopefully stop the bleeding. Steve's eyes dart to your face, scanning your face to see if you're awake. He's talking to you the whole time, panicked and adrenaline fuelled sentences that he doesn't remember.
"You gotta open your eyes, (y/n). Show me those pretty eyes."
"You think I'm really worth all this fuss?"
"You just had to follow me in here, didn't you?"
"I need you to open your eyes and speak to me, (y/n). I need to know that you're okay. Please."
"Please don't leave me."
You can hear him but it's all fuzzy. It sounds like you're underwater, he sounds far away. It feels peaceful but you fight and you fight hard. It takes every bit of strength you have to open your eyelids which feel like they're weighted down, it's brief but it's good enough. He breathes a sigh of relief as he sees your eyes fluttering, you're alive but you're slipping in and out of consciousness, world feeling hazy as you lay on the ground.
"Hey," he says, voice loud enough to wake you up but quiet enough that the rest of the group wouldn't hear, "you gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me, (y/n)."
You blink up at him, wiggling your fingers as the sensations of your body flood back to you, the pain floods back hitting hard and making you groan out. Steve asks if you're okay and all you can respond with is, "M'awake."
"Keep it that way." He holds up the makeshift bandage, "This is gonna hurt."
You're all banged up, covered in cuts scrapes and bites but the bite on your leg is the worst. Between the two of you, you're able to peel back the ripped jeans on your thigh to expose the bleeding wound. Steve grimaces, "That good, huh?" He doesn't respond and instead pulls the fabric around your leg tightly. You wince, hissing out in pain but you let him continue as he tries his hardest to be gentle by wrapping it tightly around your thigh before tying it tight. The pain from your wound is forcing you to be awake and conscious, sending streams of curse words out of your mouth. It hurts and it hurts bad, it burns and stings with every movement. Your whole body wants to sleep but the wound pulsing under the bandage won't let you and you're thankful for it. One of his hands is on your arm, never wanting to part with you, and all he can do is watch as you breathe hard, teeth grit, as you manage to sit up.
"Motherfucker," you hiss, "that hurts worse than that time I catapulted off the wall up behind Benny's and landed on that rock."
Despite everything, he manages a small smile and a breath of laughter, "Your mom never forgave me for that one even though it was your idea." He glances down at your leg, looking at the bloodied cloth, "That should hopefully stop the bleeding."
Nancy glances into the sky and realises that the bats are coming back and there are hoards of them this time, "Uh, guys?" She asks, voice tense.
Steve looks over at her and then follows her gaze upwards. Fuck. You do it too and you know that there's no time. You have to move. All you want to do right now is curl into a ball in bed - in Steve's bed - like that one time when you drunk and you fell asleep wrapped up together cause that's just what friends do, right?
"I'm okay," you tell him nodding and just like Robin not long ago, you don't know who you're trying to convince more, "just... help me up will you?"
Steve's strong hands pull you up and immediately wrap you in a tight hug, "Don't ever do that to me again," he huffs breath tickling your neck, "I thought I was about to lose you."
"You can't get rid of me that easy, Harrington." You thought that joking would help the situation but no, if anything it made him worse. He's shaking; absolutely terrified from the ordeal of thinking he'd lost you. He pulled back, heart hammering in his chest, as he stares down at his hands that are smeared with your blood. His eyes are glassy and he looks like he's about to cry. You take a breath, taking his hands in yours, "Hey," you whisper, forcing his attention away from his hands and to you instead, "I'm here, okay? I'm alright; bruised and bloodied but I'm alive, Steve, okay?"
"I can't lose you." It's an admission of some sort, not a full blown 'I love you' but it's pretty damn close. It makes your heart race and all you can do is hug him again, pulling him in tight. For a moment, just a moment, everything faded away around the two of you and you could close your eyes and pretend that everything's okay.
The moment's over all too soon when Nancy clears her throat from up ahead. You look over to her and she gives you an apologetic smile. It's time to go.
"Out of the frying pan," you say, taking Steve's hand tightly.
"And into the fire."
Walking isn't an easy task, you're slow and unsteady and with every step, you want to yell out in pain. Steve stays at your side, supporting you as much as he can, "I could carry you, you know... At the very least just a piggy back ride." You're holding everyone up and there's not enough time to let you go at your own pace, you have to move quicker but each time you try, the pain burns stronger.
Quickly, you shake your head, "Over my dead body."
"Yeah, well it might have to be if you're walking this damn slow," he snaps half serious, "Seriously, (y/n), let me lift you."
You push back from him. It's been years since someone picked you up, last time someone did they commented on how heavy you were and how you should think about losing some weight. You were humiliated that day so never again. You had a complicated relationship with your body, in some things you really liked the way your body filled out clothes, in other aspects you hated it. It wasn't a secret that you were fat, people had eyes and they could see it obviously, but it's like when your friend has a very obvious massive red spot on their face - you see it but you just don't speak about it. You don't voice things that could very well be an insecurity for some people.
"Steve, I- I'm too heavy." You feel pathetic as you say it and you can't look at him. You hate that you still have these worries and insecurities but after years of society telling you how you should look of course it had an impact on you.
Steve stops.
He ducks his head to look at you with sad eyes. He hates that you're ashamed of yourself in this way when in his eyes you're absolutely perfect. "Let me help you, (y/n), please," he says quietly so the others don't hear, "You won't hurt me, you're not too heavy, I'm strong and I can get us there faster... It'll help your leg, it'll let you rest it even for a while."
"You're not going to... to laugh at me for how heavy I am?"
Something bubbles up inside him in that moment and all he wants to do is wrap you up and keep you away from all the bad things in life. My god, he wants to kiss those insecurities away, make you realise that you're the prettiest goddamn girl in the world. No one comes close. He shakes his head, strands of his perfect hair falling out of place, and he takes one of your hands, "I'd never do that. You're not going to be heavy for me just let me help you."
If it had to be someone, you would've picked Steve so with a sigh, you relent and he crouches so that you can jump onto his back. You almost forget about the pain in your leg as the nerves burn hard in the pit of your stomach. He lifts you with a surprising amount of ease, jumping to readjust you so that his hand isn't anywhere near your injured leg, "Comfy?" He asks as he starts walking.
"If I'm too heavy you can just put me down, it's okay. I'll walk faster, you don't have to-"
"(y/n)," he cuts over your rambling, "I've got you, don't worry. Just take a breath and chill out for a bit." He begins to walk and catches up with the group on their path to the Creel House. Nancy and Robin glance at you both before catching the other's eye and giving the other a knowing smile.
You bury your head in the crook of Steve's neck, breathing long and deep. Steve can't think straight. All he can focus on is the way your breath is hot against his cool skin and the way your lips gently graze his neck with every step. The feelings that he thought he'd buried down long ago burn violently under the surface. Dustin would be screaming 'I told you so' if he was here right now. For years Dustin had been trying to get Steve to realise the true nature of his feelings for you and finally, fucking finally, it was happening. He shakes his head, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart when your lips graze his skin, and instead he tries to focus on the task at hand.
Everything's over, it's done... at least for now.
You manage to get back to Steve's house in one piece, the five of you traumatised and dirty. Steve's house was empty as usual, his parents both working out of state, so the five of you crowded in Steve's car, Steve driving and you in the passenger seat with his hand in yours. The five of you cram into Steve's car, bloodied and bruised and knackered but you're all alive. Steve drives through Hawkins but his focus is entirely on you. Since your injuries, he hadn't stopped touching you; holding your hand, arms wrapped around you... He had to keep touching you, had to keep reminding himself that you were okay. Every now and then, his thumb brushes over the bloodied skin of your hand. Dustin, Lucas and Max had radioed a while back to say that they got home okay, they'd nearly been caught by police but managed to escape so it was just a straight drive to Steve's. It felt strange being back in Hawkins. You hadn't been away for too long in the Upside Down but returning as though life was normal was a weird one. Things weren't normal; things were pretty fucking strange.
As the five of you enter Steve's house, Nancy darts off to the phone. She'll be trying to get a hold of Jonathan. Eddie asks if Steve's got any beer, Steve points him in the direction of the kitchen and Robin follows in search for food.
It's just you and Steve standing in the hallway.
"How's your leg?" He asks you.
"Fucking killer," you frown, looking down at the bloodied state of your jeans. You hadn't realised just how much you'd bled with being in the tinted red Upside Down since it was kind of hard to see but now it was a stark contrast against your light blue jeans even in the darkness of the night.
"You wanna go shower first?"
You nod quickly. The thought of a shower appeals to you, being able to wash off the dirt, grime and blood and getting to properly clean your wound, oh it sounds like bliss. The only thing that halts you - as you attempt to very slowly climb the stairs - is that Steve obviously won't be in there with you. For the entirety of the night, since jumping into the lake and heading into the Upside Down, Steve had been by your side, constantly touching you in some way, and now... you weren't ready for that to stop. Things had changed, things that you weren't sure you could keep a secret for much longer, and you weren't ready to be apart from him, not yet; not ever.
You glance back at him and he seems to know what you're thinking. He can tell by the panicked look in your eye and he quickly nods and says, "I'll be right outside the door, I promise."
He helps you as much as he can upstairs, holding you up while you hiss and curse in agony as pains shoot up your leg, and helps you into his bedroom. He raids his closet and finds an old jersey of his, it's big and baggy and it'll definitely fit you, before he grabs a pair of stretchy gym shorts from his closet, "Here," he says as he hands you it, "change into these and we'll wash your clothes. We'll get everyone's stuff washed actually."
You're quiet as you nod and pad slowly back to the bathroom, Steve behind you. He slides down the wall, sitting on the floor just to the left of the bathroom door, "I'll wait here, take as long as you need." You're hesitant to leave him but you know that there's no way around this so you thank him and close the door behind you. As soon as you're in the bathroom, you want to turn back and find comfort in his arms but you force yourself to move forwards towards the shower. You have no other choice but to shower, you need to get cleaned up and you'd already prolonged that for long enough.
Stripping off your clothes is harder than you thought it was going to be, they're stuck to you, stuck to your skin from dampness, sweat and blood. You manage to peel your t-shirt off before chucking it to the floor. You take a breath as your hands work gently to untie the makeshift bandage around your leg. You curse loudly and Steve's calling out after you, asking if you're alright.
"Fine," your voice is tense as you try and breathe the pain away, "just getting these stupid jeans off. Leg's agony."
"Once you're cleaned I'll get the first aid kit and patch you up, give you painkillers too." He wishes that he could do more, that it could've been him instead of you that got badly hurt but there's nothing he can do now. All he can do is try and help you be comfortable.
"Can you talk to me about something? I need a distraction so I can pull these jeans off."
Immediately, he straightens and starts talking to you about the time in sixth grade when William Denver got a pencil lodged in his ear after a dare gone wrong. It was the distraction you needed as you managed to pull your jeans down with some ease and some pain. You stay standing for a minute just listening to him talking, it's nice; he's nice. You like that he didn't even question it, he just produced a memory from random and started rambling about it. He never made you feel silly or like you were asking for too much, he just did whatever you needed him to.
"Steve?" You say after a minute .
"Yeah?"
"You can stop talking, I did it."
"How does the wound look?"
"Gonna be honest, Harrington, I'm not fucking looking at it." It was the truth. You don't want to look at the wound, not yet. You'll wait until it was clean to do that. If you look now, you'd freak out so instead, you climb into the shower and almost instantly, you feel a million times better.
As Steve sat outside, scraping blood from under his nails, he couldn't get something that Eddie had said to him out of his head.
"It was (y/n), dude. As soon as you were pulled under, she was off like a shot. I've never seen anyone move that fast. She didn't even think about it, just dove in straight after you... You've got a good one there, dude. Can tell she really loves you."
Was that true? Did you love him? The questions whirred around Steve's mind and it was all he could focus on, nothing else except you. Things had changed and it was obvious, even to the two of you.
The water is hot but not too hot that it hurts. You stand in the shower just letting the water rush over you for what feels like forever, you're just enjoying avoiding looking at the bottom of the bathtub. When you finally look, it shocks you that it's still red, that there's still so much blood and grime on your skin that it's still turning the running water red. It makes your stomach flip and makes your eyes fill with tears. You'd hoped that by the time you opened your eyes, the only reminder about what happened that night would be the bite on your leg but when you open your eyes, the reminder is still all over you. You're still caked with dirt and blood, sticking to each and every crevice of you. With outstretched hands, you steady yourself against the wall as the reality of the whole situation hits you. It hits you hard from Steve choking to you passing out to the piggy back to the events in the Creel house... it all hits you like a train and you can't hold back the sobs that wrack your body. All you want to do is curl up and cry and sleep and pretend everything was normal.
It's too much. It's all too much. Steve was used to this life but you weren't, he'd always kept you safe from this world and now here you were, standing in the shower covered in blood; your blood, your friends blood and strange creature's blood. Bile rose in your throat as you desperately try and calm down. Your whole body is shaking as reality hits you, the adrenaline from diving into the lake to save your best friend stayed in the Upside Down, it didn't come back. You don't feel brave anymore but instead weak and scared.
Steve hears you. He can hear the sobs that come from you though drowned out by the shower but he hears and it breaks his heart. He looks at his hands which have dried blood coating them; your blood. He knows the feeling that's crashing over you, he knows how intense and overwhelming those moments are so he does the only thing he can do. He begins to talk loudly so that you can hear him over the noise of the shower, he doesn't know what he's talking about, he's just talking. He needs to fill the space, needs you to concentrate on something other than the panic and dread that's nestled and made its home so very deep inside of you.
You frown as you try and control your crying to listen. He's rambling about the time in eighth grade when he decided to skateboard off of the top of his garage and he ended up with a broken ankle. Rambling about how freaked out he was seeing the blood and the bone and how calm you were, about how you calmed him down told him that he'd be okay. You were the one who calmed him down with jokes in the ambulance ride to hospital and when they told him he'd need surgery, it was you who made him feel better by saying he'd have such a cool scar. It was you who waited hours on him coming out even despite your mom not being happy since it was a school night. It was you who visited first. It was you who signed his cast first.
"You've always been the strong one, (y/n). Always been the one to help me out... Always been you."
You'd been so focused on listening that your body worked in autopilot, scrubbing your skin hard of all of the grime and blood and when he was finished, you realised that you were almost done too. You catch a glance or two at your thigh, the wound is angry and red and it's deep but it's not as bad as it once looked. You scrub your nails furiously, trying to get the blood that's jammed under them out, before turning the water off.
You can hear him talking to someone outside the door, it sounds like Robin. You dry yourself off, careful not to irritate your thigh too much, before pulling on his jersey and shorts. They fit and they fit baggy which surprises you. They must've been huge on Steve. You wipe the steamed up mirror to look at the blurry vision of you. You like it, you like wearing his clothes. They smell like him, a mixture of cologne, pine and vanilla. You love that smell.
It's not much longer before he's knocking on the door, "You alright?"
You don't reply and instead just open the door. He almost can't function as you stand there in his clothes. It's an old jersey and shorts but oh my god, you make them look incredible. Something within him stirs, something possessive and feral inside of him but it's forgotten about after a second when you ask him if he's alright, "You're just staring at me, you good?" You feel self-conscious under his gaze because he's never looked at you like that before, at least not that you've been aware of. You shift in his jersey, self-consciously tugging at the hem to pull it down so it wasn't clinging to your stomach.
"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine." He nods quickly, "Robin came up a couple minutes ago. Her and Nancy are gonna use the downstairs shower so pointed them in the direction of my mom's closet for clothes. Eddie's just showered and is wandering about in his boxers so just don't look." You manage a small smile, "She says that Nancy's making some food if you wanted to go down-" He sees the absolute look of terror in your eyes, "Or you can wait here for me coming out the shower?" You nod quickly, "Okay, that's fine. I'll try to not take too long." He smiles knowing that you don't want to be away from him, he doesn't want to be away from you either. He grabs himself a clean towel and something to change into before disappearing into the hot and steamy bathroom.
You awkwardly manage to slide down the wall without irritating your leg too much as you wait for him to finish. You try and shut your mind off, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts for any longer than necessary, so you distract yourself with any means necessary.
You think back to when you and Steve were twelve and had thrown a party for the two of you in your basement. You'd stolen your dad's old records as the two of you danced around, wired to the moon on sugar and candy. A song had come on, Life On Mars - David Bowie, and the two of you were in total amazement. It swiftly became 'your song' as Steve dubbed it. It wasn't romantic like most couples songs were but it was a song that the two of you would dance around the room and sing loudly in the car to. You began to hum it quietly to yourself trying to stay focused in the memory of that silly party the two of you threw.
He doesn't take too long but it's been long enough when it hits the fifteen minute mark. You feel on edge. You know that he's just on the other side of the door but you don't feel right knowing that he's not there beside you. Your hands fidget nervously with the hem of the jersey as you breathe in his scent from it to keep calm. You long abandoned humming David Bowie as after five minutes, you were driving yourself insane, and instead spent the last ten minutes with your eyes squeezed shut head pressed back against the wall as you try and calm the rising panic.
The door swings open a few minutes later and there he is, standing there freshly cleaned and washed with his sopping wet hair still looking perfect and a clean t-shirt and shorts on. You reach out for him to help you up and when he does, you throw your arms around him tightly. You need to feel him, need to know he's okay and he's safe. He seems to need this embrace as much as you do as he responds by tightly pulling you against him, bodies flush against the other, warm and damp. His hands grip onto the fabric of your material as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, "I almost lost you," he breathes out. His voice is thick and you can tell that he's close to tears. He can't get over how close he came to losing you. It put everything into perspective for him then, made him realise that life was too short to continue pretending that there wasn't obviously something between the two of you.
"I almost lost you," you murmur as tears build in your eyes, lips once again grazing over the skin of his neck, "I saw you go under and I just- I didn't even think I just jumped in after you." Steve closed his eyes briefly, so what Eddie had told him was true.
It almost doesn't feel real what happened tonight. The whole thing, even this standing in the safe arms of Steve Harrington, it feels like you could blink and be back in the Upside Down so you cling to him and he clings back just as hard. Neither of you cry but the fact that you both welled up over nearly losing the other proved the point regardless.
It's not until you hear someone padding upstairs that the two of you break apart, though his hand holds yours, it's Nancy. She's wearing pyjamas that belonged to Steve's mom, loose and baggy on her, "Food's ready," her voice is quiet and her smile is apologetic knowing that she's just walked into something that she shouldn't be seeing.
Steve nods before he gathers yours and his clothes and then he leads you slowly downstairs to go and eat. Steve tells you that you'll eat then he'll patch your leg up. The smell hits you when you walk into the kitchen; pizza, chicken nuggets and fries. Nancy had raided the freezer and put on a feast for everyone. You didn't think you were hungry until you got there and saw the food. Steve bundles together everyone's clothes and chucks them into the washing machine, pouring a healthy amount of detergent in before turning it on. It's only then as the five of you crowd round the table, chairs squeaking as you pull them in, that you feel the hunger. You all eat in silence the only noise that can be heard is chewing and the grumble of the washing machine. Usually you didn't like eating in front of people, you got worried about what they'd think about your portion size or made a comment but right now you didn't care. With Steve's hand on your knee, you couldn't care about anything else right now. It doesn't take long before the food's finished and you're all guzzling on the water bottles that Nancy had placed on the table.
It's then that you look around the table, looking at everyone. Everyone's clean, smelling of vanilla body wash and coconut shampoo, with clean clothes that are a little loose and baggy (aside from Eddie who only wears boxers but he's wrapped the throw from the couch around himself) but the angry red scrapes, scratches and cuts that litter everyone's limbs are hard to hide. Nancy's managed to shower, change, cook dinner and even managed to treat hers, Robin's and Eddie's scrapes and cuts in the time it took you and Steve to shower. Impressive.
Once the food's finished, everyone scatters. No one really talks aside from their 'thank you's to Nancy. Steve gathers the plates up and puts them in the sink. You wait. He'll wash them in the morning he decides before moving to the counter where Nancy had left the first aid box. He grabs it and wiggles it in his hand, "You ready?"
You nod, "Let's get it over with."
He kneels down in front of you as you sit in the chair, "Can I?" He asks as he nods to the shorts you're wearing. You nod. Robin walks into the kitchen and quickly backs away, the scene unfolding far too intimate for anyone else to see. She warns Nancy and Eddie to stay away. Steve hands are gentle as he rolls your shorts upwards to get to your mid thigh. It's then you both get a good look at your wound. It's angry and raw but it looks better. The bleeding stopped a while ago so that's a good sign. Still hurts like hell though.
He rummages through the first aid box, finding a wipe and a large plaster, "It's gonna hurt." He tells you as he tears open the antiseptic wipe. You nod quickly and with a tender hand, he cleans it. It stings and burns but you aren't focusing on the cut, you're looking at Steve. You're looking at the way his hair falls into his vision and he blows it away with an upwards puff of air. You're watching the way his brow furrows in concentration as he gnaws on his lower lip making sure to not cause any further harm to you.
He grabs stuff to dress it with, glancing up at you, doing a double take when he realises that you're staring at him, "I'm not hurting you am I?"
You shake your head, "No, you're fine."
He goes back to gently dressing your wound and before you know it, he's finished. You go to pull away but Steve reaches out, "You forgot the most crucial part of patching up a wound," he chides, that playful tone once again back where it belongs. You frown but before you can ask what he means, his head ducks low and his lips graze the skin above the dressing. It's so soft and gentle that you wouldn't have known he'd done it had you not been staring at him with wide eyes. Where he kisses feels hot but not from the wound rather from him. Your heart beats fast in your chest and your cheeks feel like they're on fire, "There." His breath tickles over your skin. He lingers for a few seconds, too long for a friend, before he pulls back and stands up leaving you sitting there absolutely stunned.
He smirks as he turns away from you, discarding the empty wrappers in the bin, he knows what he's doing to you. Hope burns strong inside him, hope that maybe this is it; this is his chance, your chance. When he turns around you tell him to sit down, "Mine are fine," he says with a shake of the head, "not as bad as yours."
"So?" You ask with a raised brow, "Sit."
He complies.
You grab some plasters that were at the bottom of the box which happen to be some yellow and red plasters with various wild animals on them. Steve laughs slightly, "Seriously?" He asks as you grab a wipe to clean him.
"It's the only plasters you've got, not my fault Harrington."
He rolls his eyes but humours you and lets you dab his cuts carefully before sticking down the plasters. You only plaster the ones that are deeper so he ends up with some on his arms and one on his left temple. He goes to stand up, "Wait," you tell him fighting off a smirk, "you forgot the most crucial part of patching up a wound." His eyes widen slightly and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. Two can play at your game, Harrington. Slowly, you duck your head to press gentle kisses to the cuts on his arms, lips lingering just as his did. Steve swallows hard. It's taking everything to control himself right now and even then, he's barely controlling himself. He can't stop thinking about the way your lips feel, soft and warm on his skin, and he can't stop thinking about how they'd feel against his own.
Your heart is beating harder but you don't let it show as you lean in close to him. Steve's eyes are trained on you, never wavering, entirely focused on your next move. You press a gentle kiss to his temple, your hand rests on his knee for leverage. Steve swallows hard again and you secretly smile knowing that you're having some form of effect on him. He can smell you, smell the shampoo in your hair that he uses, he can smell his jersey on you and he loves that he can smell himself on you. Again, that primal urge rises in him but he pushes it away as you lean back and sit back down in your chair.
"Uh... thanks," he says as he clears his throat. You like seeing him like this, flustered and flushed, "How's it feel?" He asks referring to your wound.
"Better." Your cheeks feel hot as you replay the moment of him kissing your thigh over and over in your head. He stands up and takes your hand before slowly leading you out of the kitchen and into the living room. You like the way his hand feels in yours, warm and large.
Eddie's set up camp for the night there, laying on the couch under a blanket with a cushion shoved under his head. Robin's curled in the armchair almost half asleep but Steve taps her leg and tells her to go to the guest room, Nancy too who was coming downstairs carrying blankets. Without a word, the two girls nod and head upstairs.
You and Steve aren't far behind them, following them up after he locks the door. There's no question of where you're sleeping, not an utterance of a word about it, instead it's just quiet acceptance. He makes sure that Nancy and Robin are comfortable before leading you into his bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him.
Nerves bubble in your stomach. It's different. You've been in Steve's room hundreds of times over the years of being friends. You'd slept in this room plenty before too on duvets on the floor and once in his bed curled up with him after a drunken party. This time though... it feels different. It doesn't feel like sleeping over with a friend because well, he's not a friend anymore. You aren't sure how he feels about you but you know that this isn't how friends treat each other. You don't want to get your hopes up just in case but they're there, niggling under the surface of your skin.
It's only when you're in his room with the door closed, you're unsure what to do next. Steve's not shy and he knows exactly where you're going to be. He walks to his side of the bed and lifts the duvet to get in, "Well?" He asks, "Hurry up and get in here."
He doesn't need to tell you twice.
Your heart beats fast as you climb into bed beside him. The bed smells like him, it smells like home. Steve watches you the whole time, the words he wants to say are right there on the tip of his tongue, locked behind his teeth but he's not feeling brave anymore so he stays silent. There's a certain tension in the air that you both feel as you lie on your sides, facing each other. Your heart hammers in your chest as your mind whirs with the possibilities of what might be.
The moon seems to be right outside of Steve's open windows, shining in bright so that you can see him, he's a duller and darker version in this light but he's still Steve; your Steve. You look up at him from behind long lashes and you find his eyes boring into yours, roaming and searching, looking for an answer to the question that he hasn't asked. It seems to click then, to both of you, that this was something more than what is once was or maybe this is way it always had been but it was only now you were realising it. He shifts closer and you do too as his eyes switch from your lips to your eyes. The burning desire to kiss someone has never been this strong before.
All you can hear is the beat of your heart in your ears like a drum, faster and faster, as you inch closer to him. He finds one of your hands lost under the sheets and takes it, clasping your fingers together tightly. It's then when you look up and realise that you're almost pressed together. Steve swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, as his breath tickles over your face.
It happens.
You're not sure who moved in first, it was more like a joint effort to meet in the middle. Your eyes flutter shut as Steve closes the gap between your lips, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's a small kiss, gentle and it doesn't last long but in that moment, everything slots together and you feel like everything's right again. He's testing the waters with this kiss, keeps it short and sweet before he pulls back a few centimetres, eyes scanning your face for some kind of regret or negativity but he doesn't find it.
Your mind reels from the fact that you and Steve just kissed. Your stomach is a jumble of nerves overlapping each other and writhing deep in the pit of your stomach. That few seconds where you're just staring at each other, eyes searching for confirmation, seemed to solidify something for the two of you, a silent agreement, consent and before you knew it, it was a push and a pull of bodies. Your free hand tangles in his shirt, pulling him close as his pulls you in at the waist.
No other kiss has ever felt like this one. It's fast and hard, smashing of lips and clashing tongues. It's hungry and passionate, it's a 'finally' moment, a breath of fresh air, a breath of relief. You've never been kissed like this before; never been kissed with such intensity and passion behind it. He kisses you like it means something because to him, it does; it means everything.
With a swift kick, he shoves the sheets to the floor where they gather in a pile. He rolls you onto your back and shifts without breaking the kiss so that he's over you, hands on either side of your head as you kiss. His knee moves between your legs, parting them, and pushing upwards. You gasp, breaking the kiss, at the sudden friction between your legs.
He snaps back.
His eyes roam your face again as your brow furrows. He worries that he's gone too far, moved too fast, but you grab a handful of his cotton shirt and pull him back down to kiss you. There's a new found confidence within you, allowing you to grab him and kiss him which you wouldn't have done before, you kiss him hard and he seems to get the hint that you want this, that you want him.
You almost feel like you need to be pinched, like at any moment you're going to open your eyes and you'll be somewhere else; that this is all a dream. For years, you'd had a crush on him but you thought it would always just be a secret and never be reciprocated but here he is, kissing you as though his goddamn life depends on it. You. He's kissing you. If 14 year old you could see you now. Well maybe not the scenes that would unfold in the next few minutes but my god, it would be the biggest confidence boost knowing that you, despite your weight and despite your size, would have Steve Harrington fawning over you. It felt good to be wanted, it felt right.
Soon the kiss turns needy and desperate as heat pools between your legs. Your hips push downwards into his knee trying to feel the friction through the cotton shorts that you wear. Steve's lips pull away from yours, extracting an audible whine from you, as he moves to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. He kisses everywhere, peppering small kisses on the soft skin before finding the spot on your neck that makes your gasp and makes your back arch. His hands are on your sides, dancing the hem of the jersey you wear up, and it's then it kicks in. Your hand darts out to catch his, stopping it in its place.
He stops.
"Am I going too fast- dammit, shit, sorry, sweetheart. I-I got carried away-"
You shush his worries and cut off his rambling before you answer him softly, "Self-conscious." Your voice is a mere whisper and Steve's face immediately softens. You'd never really had anyone touch you like this, with so much care and love and it makes you so aware of all of your imperfections. The worry that sits in the back of your mind, too, is that you know Steve's dating history; tiny, petite and pretty girls... Not you. Not fat and curvy and lumpy. Steve's eyes bore into yours and he can see your worries, sitting so openly and plainly in front of him.
"Baby," he murmurs, hand trailing fire over your cheek as he caresses it, "I think you're perfect." You look in his eyes and you know that there's a decade of trust there, a decade of friendship and loyalty, a decade of love, "You don't have to hide from me." You're still not quite there so Steve continues, "Your body, your smile, your laugh; you are perfect to me, (y/n). Beautiful. Your weight and size doesn't make you any less so... I want you, (y/n). Why do you think I only gave you my clothes to wear? I only want you, no one else." You hadn't thought about why you were the only one wearing Steve's clothes. It hadn't really clicked to be honest. He'd sent Robin and Nancy to his mom's closet, Eddie chose to be half naked, and you were the only one wearing Steve's clothes. It was such an honest, sweet, possessive action that it made the heat burn between your legs.
He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the side of your jaw, then another and another before he pulls back, "You want me to stop?"
You shake your head.
"Speak up, babygirl."
"Don't stop," you whisper, "I want you... Fuck, Steve, I need you." Hearing you say it makes his cock twitch in his shorts. It doesn't take much until he's rock hard, pressing against your thigh as he kisses you again, hot and heavy.
His hands resume sliding under your shirt, over the lumps and bumps and curves of your stomach and sides until they find your bare breast, heading straight for your hard nipple. His thumb grazes over it, extracting a soft moan from your parted lips. Steve moans into your neck at the sound of you, "God," he groans, "you even sound so fucking pretty."
Your whole body feels hot, feels like you're burning a fever but in the best way possible, "Take it off," you get a moment of bravery as you push him back and pull off of the jersey, throwing it across the room where it bundles in a pile at the wardrobe. You hoist your lower half up and rather ungracefully tear off your shorts and throw them over to where the jersey resides on the floor. Thankfully Steve was to preoccupied with taking his shirt off to see.
It was when he looked back down at you, ready to move in to kiss your breast, that he stopped.
"Holy fuck, baby."
He looks at you like you're the only thing of importance in the world. The way he stares at you, drinking in your body, your curves, your stretchmarks, it makes you shift and wriggle awkwardly. The way that he looks at you, you've never had anyone look at you like that before. His gaze is so awe-filled and you never want him to stop. He follows every line, every bump, every freckle, every blemish on your body until it leads back to your face and your eyes, "So goddamn pretty."
He bends his head, taking your nipple in his mouth tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, as his fingers press into your hips. The moans that he was pulling from you were like music to his ears, every moan and mewl making his cock twitch with anticipation. Every time you moan, he hums against your nipple. God he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing you or making you feel good. Your back arches and his hand slips over your stomach, groping the curve of it. You shiver and squirm but not because you're uncomfortable. His touch sends tingles down your spine and all across your soft, sensitive skin.
"Steve," you whisper out, back arching as his fingers push apart your thick thighs, "I- I- need you."
Steve growls against your skin, "Never thought I'd hear you say that, baby," he says against your skin before taking your nipple back in his mouth, tongue swirling and circling around it as his fingers trail down your thick thighs to your aching hot sex.
You've never had anyone touch you like this, your hand brushes against his and he stills, raising his head to look at you, "I've never... you know..." You're a virgin. He already knows it, just like you know that he's not and he's not been for a long time.
Steve nods, "I'll be gentle, babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth, "if it hurts or you want me to stop-"
"I'll tell you."
Steve grins, that half grin you love so much, before he attacks your neck again as his fingers continue their agonisingly slow dance down your thighs, "God," he moans into your neck as he hears the way your breath hitches in your throat, "you sound too fucking pretty. I want to hear you moan for me..." His fingers graze over your slick cunt and my god, you're soaked, "God, I want to do this right; I want to take my time with you but- I don't know how much longer I can go." His fingers part you and circle your sex until they brush over your clit.
Your eyes roll backwards as your back arches to a level you never knew possible and Steve grins at your reaction. He presses harder on your clit, pressing and circling lazy circles. Your body twists and convulses, overwhelmed by the new sensations that he's causing, your words are a jumble of moans and curse words crumbling beneath him and he's never witnessed anything so beautiful.
"J-Jesus, Steve-"
His hips involuntarily buck forwards, colliding with your thigh and his head falls as he groans, "Baby, you can't say my name like that," he hisses, "you'll make me- Jesus- I've never had that before- never had this. I'm so- so desperate for you and just hearing you, just seeing you like this is enough to make me- fuck." You love having that effect on him but he doesn't let you enjoy it for too long before a finger is pushing at your entrance. He searches your eyes and you nod as he coats it in your slick heat before slowly, his finger is being pushed inside of you.
You kiss him. Lips open and tongues swirling as he pushes inside of you, you moan against his mouth and he seems to understand what you want. He shifts and slowly pushes another finger into you and it isn't long until your hands are tugging at the sheets, his hair, nails digging into strong shoulders as you come undone beneath him. Your mind is a jumble of everything Steve. All those moments with Steve. The innocent laughter of kids, the secrets of teenagers, the awkwardness of young adults. The inside jokes, the teasing jibes, the playful roll of the eyes, the secret glances when you think he isn't look, his lovesick whenever you laugh.
Steve feels like he could finish right here, right now. Not even inside you and barely started. This moment had been in the works for years and now it was here, years of tension built up into a few lustful, passionate moments. He slips his fingers from you and immediately takes them in his mouth, tasting your natural tang on his tongue. He moans against them as he licks your wetness from them, "Fucking delicious, babygirl." He tugs his shorts down and looks down at you, "Shit, condom-"
"I'm on the pill, Steve," you pant, "we don't need it."
"Are you sure? We can stop-"
"Steve," you cut him off, leaning up on your elbows to give him a quick peck, "I'm sure."
He lines himself up and readies you for him to push into you. You gasp at his size and he gives you a few seconds to adjust before he checks if you're alright and want to continue. It's not sore, it's an unfamiliar sensation but it feels good. You nod to let Steve know you're ready to continue. His finger trails lazily down your thigh, avoiding your wounds, as he looks at you with teasing eyes.
"Words, please."
"More- God, more."
He complies, his pace slow and steady. It takes everything in his to not implode then and there in your slick warmth. It's all a bit of a blur, it feels like you're high or drunk, fuzzy around the edges and tingly. Steve's groaning into your neck, sounds that drive you crazy because my god how does he sound so fucking pretty too? Your legs are tight around him as he kisses you hard, pace quickening with every thrust. It doesn't feel like anything you'd experienced before. It's deep and makes your body squirm and shake, it makes noises you didn't know you could make escape from your throat; it makes you go wild.
"You feel so-" he groans, "so fucking good, babygirl."
The way he speaks to you, voice dark and dripping with lust, could easily tip you over the edge once more but you hang on, wanting to stretch it out just a little longer. Your eyes meet Steve's. You'd always wondered that if you and Steve did ever get together, would it be awkward? Would it be uncomfortable at first? You had your answer. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like how it should; it felt right. Like two pieces of a puzzle slotting together perfectly.
"Cum for me," Steve pants, peppering kisses all over your face, your neck, your shoulder. Your body involuntarily convulses, gasping at his words, "Cum for me, babygirl."
You couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. One second you're staring into Steve's eyes, the next you're tumbling into the blissful vortex of an orgasm, writhing and wriggling beneath him. The sensations overwhelm you; so much pleasure, so much build up and now you're unravelling at the seams for him; for Steve. Your eyes squeeze shut as your hands go between pulling at his hair to gripping his flesh with your nails, probably adding new cuts to his already bruised and battered body. The moans that come from you, jesus, he barely contains himself. The knowledge that he's the one making you feel this good, he's the one inside you, the one who's making you moan like that... he could explode inside you right now.
"Fucking hell, babygirl," he groans into your neck, "too fucking good, too fucking tight and pretty."
His thrusts slow as you come down from your high, allowing you some time to calm your racing heart and tingly limbs. Your breathing is erratic and you can't seem to form a single word or even a single thought but only Steve. Just Steve. Always Steve.
"I can't hold it, baby," he whispers, "you're too much; perfect but so- so fucking good." He means that you're too much in the highest of compliments. He could've came with just the sight of your naked body, hell just kissing you could've made him explode, the sound of you could've made it happen so the fact he's here, listening to you, touching you, kissing you, inside of you... it's so much; too much but he never wants it to stop. He wants it forever - wants you forever.
Slowly regaining some strength back, your hips rock into his. You're unsure of how to exactly do it but you know you're doing something right when he's cursing and gasping into your ear. The more he reacts, the more confidence you gain.
"Cum for me," you whisper in his ear just as he had done to you.
His moans make you shudder with excitement and it's not long before he's cursing and groaning loudly into your neck and the pillow you lay on, fist clenched around your hand. His thrusts grow quick and sloppy and you continue to talk him through it until he stills and shudders.
Pants fill the humid air as the two of you recover and fall down from your highs. It's a moment later when Steve slowly slides out of your warmth and slides off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. He doesn't give you any time to miss his touch because as soon as he's off of you, he's pulling you in at the waist and pressing soft kisses to your forehead.
You don't know what it is, the rushing tsunami of emotions, the reality hitting you or just the whole day's overwhelming nature but you feel vulnerable in those few moments afterwards and instinctively, your hands scrabble for the sheet, pulling it half over yourself.
"Hey," Steve murmurs, one eye open, "you never have to hide from me again."
You curl into him, "I know... It's just... weird getting used to it." It doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable or even weird. The only weird thing about it is how normal it feels. You settle into Steve's arms as you feel a question bubbling up inside of you. "How... How was it?" It's a question that you're unsure you want the answer to because what if he hated it? What if it was just okay? It's too late now anyway, the deed has been done and the question has been asked.
Steve pulls a long breath out, "I seriously mean this, babygirl... the best, most intense, most mindblowingly awesome sex I've ever had in my life. No joke. Seriously like-"
You find yourself laughing, cheeks burning and heart racing at the compliments he continued to pour out, "Okay, okay, stop, I get it! I'm the best sex you've ever had in your life and you'll never find anyone like me ever again-"
"I don't want anyone ever again." His mood turns serious, a snap of the fingers and all laughter is gone, "I only want you, (y/n)... This isn't a one-time thing for me." You look up at him and you see that expression back once again, sad and scared, "I almost lost you, (y/n). I'm never letting you go again."
Your heart skips a beat, "So what does that mean for us?"
"it means that I-" the words are right there, locked behind teeth but he doesn't feel brave anymore, "I can't lose you."
"I can't lose you either." It's as good as an admission goes. You know how he feels just like he knows how you feel for him but the two of you have been too brave for today and neither has any intrepidness left in you so you leave it at that. You'll tell him the true nature of your feelings at some point but not right now, not yet. So for now, it's enough and it isn't long before the darkness wraps its arms around you and pulls you to sleep.
Steve settles with you wrapped up around him. He's warm, almost too warm, but he's not letting go of you. He can't. With a deep breath, he does his best to block today's events in the Upside Down out of his mind and focuses on the sound of your breathing to help lull him to sleep.
The lot of you don't get up until well into the afternoon, bodies and minds equally as exhausted. Your body is sorer in the morning, achier and just plain tired, Steve thinks it's his fault and he keeps apologising profusely but kisses work wonders to soothe his worries.
"I'm just bruised and battered. Not from you, Steve. You can't ever hurt me."
When you and Steve finally emerge from downstairs, Nancy's on the phone to Jonathan, Robin's watching TV and Eddie's surprisingly making breakfast. He's quiet and his smile doesn't quite hit his eyes but he tries his best to lift spirits. When the two of you pass Robin, she gives you a warm smile - a knowing smile but not a teasing one. After the events of yesterday, there's no teasing, no jokes; it's a 'life is fucking short so get with the one you love immediately'.
Once more, you crowd around the breakfast table, a little livelier than last night but the bruises, cuts and dark circles under everyone's eyes tells a different story. Everyone's eyes have a darkness to them; a hollow emptiness after the trauma of last night. Eddie fills in the conversation where he can but even he isn't feeling up to it so the sound of silence is something that you've grown to be used to. Steve's hand doesn't leave your hand all morning, he still doesn't want to be away from you.
After breakfast, the five of you glance around at each other and there's a question that you all think but don't say. Steve finds himself answering, "You can all stay as long as you need. My parents won't be home for a week and-"
There's a group sigh of relief.
"Maybe just one more night," Nancy says, "until we can get a proper good night's sleep." She's always been so strong, so fearless but the fact that there's a slight tremor of fear in her voice is oddly comforting to you.
"Thank god because I wasn't going anywhere." Robin says as she finishes the last of her apple juice.
"Me either," Eddie says, "maybe we could extend the invite to Henderson and the rest of the little buddies."
As the rest of the group break off, with Eddie going to call Dustin and Nancy and Robin cleaning up, you and Steve move outside to sit by the pool. Steve's arm is tight around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace, "I love you." He's not feeling very brave today but he says it anyway. Life's too short, he learned that last night. So even despite his worries and fears, he had to tell you. Why not?
You press a kiss to his neck, smiling. See? Like two puzzle pieces slotting together. His confession makes you feel brave and makes you feel like you could tell him. Last night was a night of firsts; first time into the Upside Down, first time getting wounded, first time having sex so what's wrong with another first? First time telling someone that you love them; first time telling Steve. The boy who you thought was so far out of your league. Years ago you'd accepted your fate of just being friends but now? Now you were here, in his arms, so why the fuck would you let your fears stop you from taking the leap of faith?
"I love you, too." He presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling.
The two of you stay there, curled up together and smiling, until Dustin and crew get there and until Dustin yells at the top of his lungs, "I fucking knew it! Fifty bucks Harrington!"
#one shot#os#prompt#steve harrington x plus size reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#plus size#plus size reader#reader insert#steve harrington x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things#stranger things fic#fanfic#fic#fic rec#st
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FORBIDDEN FRUIT
Chapter Three - The Forbidden Fruit
Chapter Two. Masterlist
Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader
Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.
A/n: This took a little longer than it should have. I’m still getting used to people liking what I write lol. I promise the plot will get juicer as we go too. (And sexier)
“Take me away…”
It all happened so quickly.
You faintly remember the feeling of his arm against your middle back, steeling you close to him as you heard the angered roar of Shepherd.
“Shut your eyes.” He had ordered softly. You did as you were told. Even with no vision, you could see silvery light erupt against your closed lids.
Simon struck the ground with a faint crack, the ground morphing around the two of you as the earth swallowed you whole. The uncomfortable feeling of your lungs being constricted made your legs grow weak. With several wheezes of dusty air, you collapse against his body, feeling the coolness of his gloved palms hold you up under your lower back.
He held you steady as you coughed, letting you go as you caught onto your balance once again. A small chuckle left the back of his throat.
“Open your eyes.” His voice was soft, but strange. His words echoed in your head, but your ears didn’t recall the richness of his voice.
“I can hear, but you haven’t spoke.” You whimpered so lowly you could hardly understand yourself.
Carefully you peeled open your eyes, taking in your surroundings all around you. It looked to be a cave of some sort, with slanted rock and chilling air. To your right silver water lazily babbled as it swirled upon the glimmering banks. It illuminated the dark area quite well.
“You’re in my domain. I know when someone enters here. I can converse through their minds when needed—feel their emotions.” His voice whispered through your mind again.
“Your domain?” You turned to face him, watching his eerie skull shine brightly in a dim darkness. He stood a few feet back, his hands clasped behind his back, looking effortlessly lethal.
Before he could answer, a small splash alerted your attention, reluctantly you turned your eyes away from Simon, instead pinpointing them to a small gondala that swayed against the silver waters. The wood was old and graying, as if it would sink at any moment. But the way the man maneuvered an oar over the river had you impressed.
“Your Grace, I wasn’t expecting you back so early.”
Your Grace?
“Plans changed.” Simon brought his hand up, producing a couple gold coins out of thin air. Your brain would have contorted in confusion if it wasn’t already plummeted to mush.
The man held out his hand, just as Simon stepped forward and trickled the coins down into his palm. With a satisfied grin, the boatman bowed.
With eyes gleaming of yellow, the boatman turned to you. He was tall, but there was a significant curve of his back, as if he’d been rowing for his whole life. He was in a robe of graying material, looking to be quite old. A wide brimmed hat perched on his head, dark and worn. What was most startling was his face, his eyes a pale yellow and cheeks sunken. Yet a full goatee tickled at his lip.
“This is her?” His accent was strange, but not hostile.
“Yes.” Simon snapped, as if to stop him from saying more.
“Milady, welcome to the Underworld.” The boatman bowed politely, something you were accustom to since you were the Chieftess’ daughter.
“Underworld?” You questioned with a gulp, watching as the boatman glanced amusingly at Simon.
“I apologize, your grace. I figured you would have told her before bringing her here.”
Suddenly you felt cold.
“This is Charon, yet he prefers his mortal name of Nikolai.” Simon gritted out in irritation, though his eyes were soft as they met the features of your face. He tilted his head, likely catching onto the look of fear weakly-concealed upon your skin.
“I will tell you everything when we arrive to my home. For now, you will have to trust me, and know that I vow to protect you. Say you understand?” He reassured slowly, extending out his gloved hand for you to take.
“I understand…”
With a shaky step you placed your palm upon the chilling material of his glove, with his support, he eased you into the gondala.
Simon followed afterwards, standing behind you in the back of the boat— eyes scanning ahead.
“I suggest you sit in the middle, milady. Tis’ the stablest of seats.” Nikolai suggested, just as you sat upon the wood. Carefully you smoothed your dress, feeling the chill of the air upon the river.
“Thank you.” You squeaked out, just as Nikolai began to row, dipping his paddle into the silvery river. The air grew colder as the boat tore through the currents, making your hair stand upon your arms and your jaw to clench shut in fear of noisy chattering.
It didn’t help that the river was the color of freshly powdered snow, or it was. In other currents it was the dark color of a lagoon, wisps of blue floating among the surface.
Come, join us.
We beg for company.
Take a drink.
Unconsciously, you leant closer to the water, finding oasis in the whispers.
A strong hand settled on your bare skin of your collarbone, pulling you back into the middle of the boat. As if a switch was pulled, you became aware of Simon’s intense stare as he crouched down in front of your eyeline.
“Do not look at the water, sponsa mea. Wandering souls do not like to be mocked with the living.”
“What happened?” You grumbled, bringing your hand up to your aching head. The constant throb had increased throughout the time spent clueless.
“The passing of the River Styx is not to be taken lightly. Let alone by a mortal such as yourself. You’ve reached the border between the dead and living. The dead don’t take kindly to living souls on this side of the underworld.” Nikolai drawled.
Simon’s reached to unclasp his cloak, allowing the free flowing material to drape warmly over your shoulders. It helped fight the chilling fog, but did little to stop your soaring heart. It smelt intoxicating, like merlot wine you drank during the winter, among with hickory smoke and ancient cypress.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, rising again.
“Take the shortcut, Charon. I believe we’ve had enough surprises today. She may meet Cerberus another day.”
“Da, that seems for the best.”
It wasn’t long before a pier of silver and oak appeared from the distance, it made your queasy stomach turn in delight.
Finally, land.
Nikolai rowed to the structure, tying a slim rope in a knot upon the post. “Here we are, best of luck, Milady.” He titled his head down in a bow, just as you mumbled out a quiet thank you.
Simon stepped upon the pier, before gently offering you his hand like before. Clutching his gloved palm, you stepped out of the gondala and onto the wood, already feeling more relaxed.
“Your Grace…” Charon bowed low, before untying the knot and rowing into the foggy distance.
Simon turned to you, “Come. It is late.”
He swiveled and began to make his way down the long bridge. You grew puzzled after every step you took, as if this bridge became longer, until finally the two of you reached a plot of land. It was small, enclosed in marble fence.
Your eyes sparkled at the truly magnificent pomegranate tree that stood front and center. The leaves were a gorgeous green, which contrasted the dark cave-like ceiling. It made you wonder how such a tree could grow with no sunlight or rainwater.
The fruit was ripe and round, the ruby color shining amongst the branches that made you want to reach up and eat all the seeds.
“A gift, for you.” Simon spoke from behind you, just as you approached the strong trunk and felt the smooth bark upon your fingertips.
“Why for me?” You asked, feeling his darkening shadow upon your shorter body, his cloak that still covered your shoulders did little to stop your chill.
“I saw how you lived. How you never had joy in the form of gifts, you never got to be a child, or feel any sort of freedom. I offer you an alternative.”
You cocked your head to the side, turning to watch him flex his shoulder high in the air, plucking a ruby fruit from the branches.
“This is a symbol of me, the pomegranate tree and seeds represent death, fertility, strong bonds.” His hands flexed, breaking the fruit in half. The red stained his hands, the juice of the fruit looking more of blood than sweet nectar.
“You’re mortal. I’ve shown myself to you, gave you the first bite of my kingdom. Of Death and life, yet here you stand, still before me. If you are to stay, if you are to be under my protection, it comes with a price.”
He plucked a single seed from the fruit, dropping the rest to the black soil.
He held it out to you, and slowly he dropped the seed in your palm.
“One month. Spend one month with me and I can show you how truly wonderful it is to be alive.”
You furrowed your brows, it was ironic that someone who reeked of death offered you this promise. Your stare found his through the skull mask. It was intense and powerful, flooded with mysterious possibilities.
You didn’t even speak, yet his voice trailed through your mind again. He was temptation, and you felt the pull of his offer. A chuckle echoed in your mind.
“Eat the seed.”
You brought the fruit to your mouth, placing it between your teeth before crunching on the soft flesh.
Then there was darkness.
Next Chapter
Tags: @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobsessedsstuff @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve @soldier-lass @ghostslittlegf @rebel-soldat @erintaro @zomb1edoll @ghost-with-a-teacup @fante-di-denari @kuwizo @sollucifer @embers-of-alluring @icepancakes @bangirl134
Sorry if I missed anyone! This is the hardest part of the fic lol <3
#cod#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader
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Ok, My Precious (Javier Peña x reader)
Masterlist | Wanna be tagged?
A/N: Get it? Ok Kanmani? @lil-stark asked for a desi fic ages ago and here it is :”)
Warnings: Men can be a little dumb bless their hearts, a little bit of smut, a tiny panic attack and crying other than that, soft fluffy javi <3
Word Count: 1.7k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Javi watched as you bopped your head to your music, singing to its catchy rhythm. You were working on an assignment, occasionally looking to the left of your laptop to write something on your notepad. You were absolutely obsessed with this song, singing it over and over again, even singing the ad libs.
En Rojaa Neeya
En Uyire Neeya
En Anjalli Neeya
Geetaanjalli Neeya
Javi loved the way your eyes would light up when you managed to get something right and how your eyebrows crinkled together when you didn't get the answers you needed. He tilted his head and continued to stare unabashedly.
En Kadalil Alai Paayum
Oar Mouna Raagam Needhane
Kaatruveliyidai Ellaam Naam
Iruvar Parandhu Sellathane
Javi leaned against the door frame and watched your lips move as angelic words tumbled out of them. He sighed softly and looked at you dreamily, his safe little haven away from the atrocities of his work. You were wearing one of his baggy tshirts and your fluffy slippers, hair twisted into a bun and a turmeric face mask on your face.
Javi shifted to cross his legs and you finally noticed him at the door, your eyes widening as your hands come up to shield your face from him.
“Eek, Javi! Don’t look at me!” you squealed, pressing your hands to your face, smudging the mask all over the place.
Javier laughed, “See mi preciosa, look at the mess you've made.”
He walks to your shared bathroom and comes out a few minutes later with a wet towel. He pulls a chair out beside you and drags your chair towards him so that you are situated between his thighs. He gently pulls your hand away from your face and places them upturned on his lap and begins to wipe your face.
You stare up at his handsome face as he gently rubs the turmeric away from your skin. When he was done with your face, he moved to your hands, kissing each fingertip as he cleaned them with the towel. He pulled you close for a hug when he was finally done, placing a feathery kiss onto your hairline and placing the stained towel aside.
Your heart swells with love and happiness as you snuggle close, your fingers gripping onto Javi’s shirt, your cheek pressed into his exposed skin where his buttons were opened as you felt the soft beat of his heart
“Te amo, roja.” Javi whispers, your heart fluttering with the tamil nickname.
“Te amo, raja.” You whispered back.
A message bloops on your laptop, bursting you and Javi’s little bubble and you sigh, sitting up straighter.
“Go on baby, do your work, I’ll fix you something to eat.” Javi smiles softly at you, kissing your cheek before getting up and taking the towel with him.
A few minutes later Javi returned, holding a bowl of fruit, a fork and a book. You smiled happily as he began to feed you fruit as he read his book, keeping you company as you softly hummed your favourite song while you worked.
You kissed him softly when you were done with the fruit, making him hum at the sweet taste of juice on your lips.
He held your hand, playing with your ring as you continued working. The little white gold and diamond ring sparkled in the late evening light and he moved his hand around, making the light refract from it and bounce around the room. The ring was a gift from your mom for your 21st birthday and you never took it off and Javi loved playing with it.
Javi kissed your finger and gently nibbled at your finger making you hiss slightly. He shifted closer to you, kissing your palm and your wrist, gently sinking his teeth into your skin, a sign that you wouldn’t be doing much work for the rest of the night.
Still you ignored him and stared hard at your laptop, your free hand clutching your mouse tightly.
“Relax, amor, let me take care of you.” Javi’s lips grazed your ear as you sighed.
You cave, melting into Javi’s touch as he curled his arm under your legs and lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom, making you giggle softly into his neck.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Javi always wakes up before you in the morning. He sat up and stared at your sleeping figure, his eyes tracing your curves as they noted the love marks that he had carved throughout the night. Your hand was draped over your tummy, your red nails another reminder of the delicious marks that littered his back.
His eyes stopped at your ring again, the one that sat perfectly at the base of your middle finger. He began to imagine how it would be like to slip on another ring beside the current one. You’d definitely make a beautiful bride and an even more beautiful wife. He suddenly couldn't help but think that your name was written with his in the stars and he had the inexplicable urge to solidify it
You sighed in your sleep and turned around, and Javi leaned down to kiss your shoulder, shaking off his thoughts. He got out of bed when suddenly a nagging voice popped up in his head, urging him to grab your ring.
He frowned and shook his head
“Not steal it, idiot. To get her ring size.” the voice hissed again and his eyes widened
Javi gently dropped to his elbows and eyed your fingers. Before he could stop himself, his own fingers met yours and began to pull the ring from your finger.
“Oh boy, we’re really doing this.” Javi thought as he gently placed your hand back onto the bed.
“Yes we are, doofus.” his mind voice spoke to him again. “Now run before she wakes up.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You literally couldn't stop bawling your eyes out. You did not only wake up to the fact that Javier had disappeared and gone to work, but your favourite ring was missing. You've had the ring on your finger for about ten years. It was one of the only things keeping you close to your mother who lives thousands of miles away. You sunk onto the floor after literally turning the entire house upside down, your hands clutched to your heart.
You fell asleep curled up on the floor in exhaustion and woke up to an alarmed Javier kneeling in front of you.
“Sweetheart, what happened?” his soothing voice only made you want to cry again as he pulled you into a tight hug.
“My ring…” your voice falters as you begin to sob into Javi’s shirt.
Javier’s eyes widened and guilt immediately rushed around him. He internally face palmed as he subtly felt his pocket for your ring. Instead of pulling it out immediately, he jumped into action, pulling your hand to eye level as if to inspect it.
“Alright, calm down, breathe, it must be here somewhere, mi preciosa.” Javi whispered through your sobs and gently pulled you up with him.
“Let's start with the bed, yea?”
Javier sneakily pulled the ring out of his pocket as you frantically tossed the pillows.
“AHA! I FOUND IT!” Javier shouted and you immediately give yourself whiplash when you looked up at him.
“Oh thank god!” you jumped onto the bed and threw your arms around Javier’s neck and he subtly breathed a sigh of relief.
“You worked yourself up too much, baby, come on now, let me run you a bath.” Javier said softly as he slipped the ring back onto your finger.
“Thank you, Javi, I love you.” you sighed , wrapping your arms around his body.
“That was close,” the grating voice whispered in Javier’s head.
“Shut up.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It had been three months since Javi bought your ring. Every morning he would look at your ring, before shaking his head slightly and putting it back in his hiding spot. It wasn’t like you had anything wrong with you, he just wanted to find the perfect timing.
Then one day it just clicked.
It had been a long night for him, and he was exhausted the second he got home. His ears perked at the music that was playing the minute he put his hand on the doorknob. He threw the door open and his eye caught you spinning around, your arms thrown up as an upbeat song played in the background. You turned to look at him, running up to him to pull his bag away from him and he immediately snaked his arm around your waist to dance with you. Music consumed the both of you and Javier immediately forgot about his horrible day.
It was at that moment where he felt like his life without you would probably mean that he would have to live a horrible one alone. You let go of his arms and danced on your own, throwing your head back as he watched your eyes flutter close.
He didn’t know how he ended up on one knee, the box ready in his hands as he looked up at you.
Your music stopped and you huffed, stalking over to your laptop.
“Baby, did we pay the Spotify bill-” you started to say when you noticed what Javier was doing.
Your mouth dropped open as a soft gasp escaped your lungs. Javier felt so vulnerable in that few minutes, his mind racing as you both stared at each other.
“Marry me, kanmani.” Javier felt the words tumble out of his mouth in one breath.
You know the moment you look at someone and your whole life with them flashes before your unfocused eyes? That was exactly what was happening to you. Birthdays, first days of school, graduations and anniversaries popped up in front of you as you found yourself living a dream.
You closed the distance between the both of you in a flash, wrapping your arms around his neck as one of your hands slid up his curls.
“Oh god, Javi.” you whispered as tears seeped out your eyes. “Yes, I will!”
A choked sob escaped Javier’s mouth as he breathed a sigh of relief. He pressed his forehead to yours as he took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger. Both of your tear drops mingle onto your hand and you pull away slightly to look at Javier’s beautiful brown eyes. You were positive you saw your whole world in his eyes as he pulled you close for a bruising kiss.
“You okay, kanmani?”
“I’m your kanmani hmm?” you giggle, pressing your nose to his.
“Always and forever, en kanmani.”
Taglist: @wolfbook87 @nyotamalfoy @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anonymously35 @nerdreader @lucreziazaninelli @milly-louisex @marylovesdilfs
#javier peña’s gun holster is at it again#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#javier pena#javier peña x y/n#javier pena narcos#javier peña fanfiction#javier pena x reader#javier peña smut#javier#javier pena fic#javier peña angst#javier pena imagine#javier pena fanfiction#javier peña fluff#javier pena smut#javier peña#javier pena x you#javier pena x y/n#javier pena fluff#pedro x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal narcos#narcos fic#narcos x reader#narcos fanfiction
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ꪶꪮꪀᧁ ꪶ𝓲ꪜꫀ ୭̥⋆*｡
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Warnings: AFAB reader, Spoilers, Angst, Mentions of death, Mentions of Gore, Character loss, Mentions of being sick, Implied blood, NOT A HAPPY ENDING SORRYYY
Genre: Angst 😞
!MARINEFORD SPOILERS!
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
The battle had started around 2 hours ago, 43 pirate ships had arrived at marineford to save Portgas D. Ace, including you. The marines plans to speed up the exucution were in full circle even with Whitebeards statregic planing. You stood aboard the deck of the Moby Dick, alongside your father Whitebeard. You had come to save ace too, The love of your life.
Your breaths came out staggered as you watched the events before you unfold, The death of little Oars Jr, A marine ship hauling Ace’s kid brother falling from the sky, everyone fighting to get into the plaza.. You thought you had seen it all until one of the seven warlords , pirate princess Boa Hancock defend and protect Aces kid brother from the marines as he too attempted to infiltrate the plaza alongside multiple divisions of the Whitebeard crew along with sworn allies they had made over the decades.
Your heart pounded in you chest as you hopped down from the deck, your feet almost slipping against the ice, you let out a elongated breath as you began to run into the midst of the fighting. Sword in hand as you fought marines left and right. As a fleet commander you were a main target for the few Admirals that were attacking the pirates to keep them out of the plaza. You looked up only to lock eyes with your beloved, chained, beaten, and bruised. The scene along made your gut tumble, he was resting on his knees, head hung low, face stained with tears. You focused on him, not the battle around you, his eyes widened and he yelled out for you but a marine had already jumped and tackled you, knocking your sword a good distance away. You yelped in surprise as the marine held a sharp sword against your neck, your hands just blocking the blade from slicing your throat open. The blade dug into the palms of your hands as you pushed back, the stinging sensation only growing the more you fought against the marine, you closed your eyes in agony as you continued to use your strength to push him off. The marine soon went flying as you mustered up enough strength to throw him off, blood leaked from your hands, your breath now ragged, the swords locked around Ace, breath tightening in your chest as you scrambled for your sword.
“ACE!”
Ace looked down from his post, hearing your guttural scream was torture enough, alongside with having to bear the trouble of a whole war being caused over his execution.
“(NAME!) STAY BACK PLEASE-! YOULL GET KILLED!”
The sound of aces voice only fueled the fight in you. your hand clenched around your blade as you sprinted to the post, but someone had tripped you, your head hit the ice with a cracking sound, and you blacked out.
You were awoken god knows how long later to Marco kneeling above you, protecting you from the attack of the marines, Ace was standing beside him, along with his brother Luffy. Your eyes widened , seeing him free and alive was everything to you. You reached out for him. Luffy ran off to fetch what looked like a piece of paper floating against the wind. You looked away for a second to check on Marco and before you could blink the sound of impact and beads hitting the ground filled your ears, everything else went silent. The sounds of swords clashing ceased to exist as you looked up, The scene was graphic, Admiral Akainus fist straight through aces torso, Luffy on the ground looking up, paper in hand.
Your eyes widened as sound of your own gasp brought you back to reality as you screamed out his name, until your breath couldn’t take it anymore and you gasped for air, you tried to crawl to him, but Marco had grabbed you by your arms, hands resting under your shoulders as you squirmed and screamed out. Ace fell to his knees. You fell to yours.
“Ace…No..”
Memories flooded your brain, Of him holding you close on warm nights, using his devil fruit power to warm you from the cold as you sat on the deck of the ship and stargazed.
How his soft hands would capture yours and pull you into a loving and soft kiss.
How his eyes blazed with passion on adventures.
How he had promised to spend his life with you, promised to continue to take you on his adventures, promised to never part with you.
You felt sick, your meal from earlier rising in your throat.
Then he fell, right into Luffys arms. Your eyes watered instantly. Tears streaming down your face as you sat there. On your knees. Sobbing.
Marco stood in front of you, preventing you from getting to him, preventing you from reaching your one and only.
But that wasn’t enough to stop you. You quickly lunged over to them, even in your conditions, completely ignoring the risks.
“Ace-!”
“Ace…?”
He was silent for a moment, other than his sobbing, you sat at his side, arms wrapped around his, his fingers curling around yours as Luffy supported his body weight.
“Thank you… for loving someone like me…”
His voice was echoed in your ears, your heart stopping as the fingers that were curled right around your own grew limp and fell, along with the rest of his body, right onto the ice. There before you, Dead, was your lover. Portgas D. Ace.
The scream of Aces brother made your ears ring, you didn’t know what to do, you reached out to him and pulled him up.
“Ace..? ACE?!”
Tears streamed down your cheeks, hot and salty against your lips, face red from screaming and crying, his body was cold and limp, he was no longer with you, the denial hit like a brick, you continued to scream his name until marco had to drag you out of the battlefield and back onto the ship.
That scene looped over and over again in your dreams, you awoke from your sleep drenched in sweat, Blood still staining you clothes and hair from the events of last night, you went to step out of bed and realized you were in your own room. You hadn’t been in your own room in months, it was tidy and unsettling. Your heart thumped in your chest as you wobbled to the door, slipping out and staring into the sky, the early morning sunrise was painted with all kinds of colors that reminded you of him. You felt sick, the throbbing headache you hadn’t noticed before kicking in.
You remembered the adventures you two used to go on, the night you and him danced together like your lives would never be the same.. the way he held his head like a hero. But you knew deep down his memory , his legacy would live on.
“You will be remembered..”
Your voice was groggy and quiet, not and octave than a whisper.
“Long live.. The walls we crashed through… I had the time of my life with you, Ace.”
You said even quieter, a single tear dripping down your cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TY FOR READING MY FIRST FANFIC!! 😭☝️
#portgas ace x reader#one piece x reader#ace#portgas d ace#angst#sad ending#one piece#monkey d. luffy#luffy#whitebeard pirates#spade pirates#romance#marineford#tw death#Spotify
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okay okay…how would konig propose to reader?would he do it because he really loves her or he wants a wife? i keep trying to wrap my head around him being romantic, but idk if he is able to be tbh
You know, I’m reading this biography of Arnold Schwarzenegger (Total Recall… lol) and he proposed to Maria Shriver on a lake holiday ;__; Like, they were in this boat Arnold was rowing around and I thought: this is so König coded!
So yep König would take his girl on a boat ride so that she can’t escape when he pops the question. He also wants to propose in the most romantic, intimate possible setting! It doesn't hurt that it's midsummer too, the birds are singing and bees are buzzing and flowers are blooming and there’s a soft breeze playing in her hair, perhaps she’s wearing a dress again because it’s so hot.
König has a tendency of losing his shirt every now and then, but this time, he will intentionally leave it on the shore as the day is one of the hottest summer days yet, and he knows he will get sweaty when he rows that little boat. His Engel suspects nothing, the cutest girl in the world just takes in the lake view, not paying attention to how this guy is rowing a little too enthusiastically for it to be a short simple joy ride on a hot summer day…
And then he just suddenly stops, deciding this is as good a spot as any, puts the oars away and reaches for his pocket. He doesn’t even get to say the words before her hands fly on her mouth when she sees he’s pulling out a ring. König was supposed to drop on one knee and ask for her hand but Engel starts to cry from happiness and he is so excited to go to her and put the ring on her finger that he capsizes the whole thing.
Our overexcited hero then has to save his angel from drowning and the ring slips and ends up somewhere at the bottom of the lake. König spends the rest of the afternoon diving to get it back while Engel relaxes on the grass, naked, trying to dry their clothes in the sun and admiring what a great lung capacity her future husband has O_o deep diving for the ring for like 15 times before he finally finds it and brings it to her, rising from the lake like some Olympian God, muscles wet and bronzed in the sun, smiling so, so wide when he finally gets on one knee before his lady ❤️ They’re both naked like Adam & Eve in paradise, the world around them is like it was the first day when God created it... It’s not what König had planned, but in a way it’s even more romantic than his original idea!
And as for your question does he truly love reader or simply wants a wife… Well, both!? People always say it’s girls who traditionally dream about getting married but in König’s case, he was the boy who dreamed he would some day win a girl and get to take them home as a prize take care of them.
He has never been a dating kinda guy, if König gets up close and personal with you, his main goal is to propose at some point. (Imagine if you wanted a relationship but didn’t want to get married because of this reason or that, didn’t see it necessary or smth, and König would be like… "Ok…" and internally cry himself to sleep :'( )
Not relevant to this but Arnold 'The Austrian Oak' also blurted to Maria’s mom that her daughter has "a nice butt" first time he met the Kennedy family. I cackled. I think that's so autistic/awkward/cringefail König coded too.
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i see the light | jjk fluff | bts disney series
jungkook | taehyung | jimin | namjoon | hoseok | yoongi | jin
◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:
pairing: jungkook x reader
tags: fluff duh, eugene!jungkook x reader, based off plot of 'Tangled'
word count: 438 words
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“Jungkook, are you sure this is the spot?” You question, slightly put off by the stillness and darkness of the water.
“Positive. This is the best spot for looking at the lights, I promise.” As Jungkook puts down the oars, he takes a seat beside you– secretly hoping that the closeness of him would put your worries to rest.
“Alright.” You mumble, paranoid that some unknown creature might leap at the boat and consume you both. And just when my dream is about to come true too, as I sit next to the possible love of my life. You think to yourself, shifting around restlessly. As if sensing your rising panic, Jungkook gently rests his hand on yours. Your face goes completely red at the unexpected yet welcomed intimacy, not noticing the slight tremble in Jungkook’s hand.
“There.” Jungkook’s face lights up as he points to something beside you. You turn and are immediately greeted by the soft glow of a lantern. Small as a firefly, yet burning as bright as the stars in the skies you’ve spent a decade studying, all the way from that cramped tower of yours.
You rush to the side of the boat, so blinded by excitement that you fail to see the tinge of disappointment on Jungkook’s face as your hand flies away.
“The lights. I finally see them. After all these years…” you exhale, your eyes following the waves of multicoloured lanterns as they slowly ascend above the buildings of the city. You look back at Jungkook, the man who brought you here– the man who has finally allowed you to live life for the first time.
“Shouldn’t you be looking at the lights instead of me?” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, his eyes blown wide open by just how ethereal you looked in the light. To him, you were perfect– the girl who made him realise that maybe, just maybe, falling in love wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
You resume your seat next to him and playfully scootch ever so closer. “I know.” Suddenly, courage hits you like a gust of wind– and you plant the lightest peck on his already flushing cheeks. You pull away, and look at him with a shy smile. He smiles back, his gaze now drifting to your lips. You pretend not to notice and continue, “we have plenty of time, so why not spend some with you?”
Before you know it, he leans forward and kisses you on the lips. Your eyes widen, then finally close as his soft lips caress yours.
“I think,” he whispers.
“I have a new dream now.”
#bts#bts imagines#bts series#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts jungkook#bts x reader#jjk x y/n#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic#bts oneshot#bts fluff#jungkook fanfic#bts fantasy au
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coaxed you into paradise - c. 29
Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.
(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)
masterlist for this series
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Victory/Blood and Cheese (Alyssa II)
It was a horrible day - the clouds covered the sun before it could rise. An equally horrible storm was happening beyond Dragonstone, making it hard for Daegon’s boat to settle near the shore. A loud groan escapes his mouth, seeing that there was no way that his boat would meet the castle in time.
“We should take a rest, my lord.” his loyal squire whispered, also ceasing his rowing. Daegon is brought back to reality - the reality that his cousin is dead, and that his sister’s husband was the one that murdered him.
“What do you think will happen next, Dorren?” he turned to look behind him, the older man had a defeated face.
“We'll tell the moment we enter Dragonstone,” the man answered, rubbing his hands together to create warmth.
Daegon knew that there was something he should’ve done to prevent Lucerys’ death. He should’ve sworn his hand to one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters, pledged to them his undying loyalty - but he froze. He froze at the sight of Vhagar and Aemond asking for his eye.
Daegon was Lord of Harrenhal, but he felt like the lord of none.
“Do you think muña will be mad at me?” he looked down - imagining his mother’s disappointed face. The man chuckles softly, “I’ve never seen your mother cross with you.” he replied, comforting the boy.
“She will be proud of you, my lord.” Dorren added, placing his hands back on the oar.
Daegon was about to do the same, but he began to hear rumbling - slow flapping of a dragon’s wings. He looks behind him, and Dorren hears it too. “Are there any dragons we should look out for?” the man asks, and his mind drifts off to the books that his uncle provided.
The Cannibal, the Sheepstealer - and countless dragonlings.
“A lot of them,” he whispered while lowering his head - seeing a dragon fly above them. The dragon was black as coal - with pointy scales. It lets out a loud roar - shaking their boat slightly. “The Cannibal,” he mumbled to himself while holding onto Dorren.
The man begins rowing the boat again - keen to escape the watchful eye of the dragon, but it keeps following them.
“Stop,” Daegon commanded - the dragon begins charging at them. The man closes his eyes, and the dragon swerves at the last minute. “Does he want to eat us?” Dorren freezed, and the boy shakes his head. “I-I don’t think so,” he mumbled, hands reaching to pet the dragon. The Cannibal flies down again, but this time - he uses his belly to land on the water.
Daegon reaches for the dragon’s snout slowly - placing his hand with caution on the dragon’s scales. He takes a deep breath, seeing that he wasn’t dead yet. “I think he wants you to ride him,” Dorren remarks, earning a twitch of a brow from the dragon.
A warm feeling enters the young lord’s veins, flowing through him and prompting him to exit the boat and board the dragon. He looks down on Dorren, “Will you be safe?” he inquired, feeling the slow falling of the water on his skin. “Yes,” the man replied - and that was all the dragon needed to fly.
A loud scream exits the boy’s mouth, feeling air and water crash on his body. “Slow down,” he mumbled - grabbing onto the dragon’s scales in order to not fall. The Cannibal relents, slowing down with reluctance.
—
Daemon’s hands were wide open to welcome his little boy. “Our boy has claimed a dragon,” he mumbled while wrapping his arms around Daegon. Instead of saying words of appreciation - or of love, the boy takes a deep breath. “Prince Lucerys is dead.” he announces - Rhaenyra’s smile drops.
She begins marching towards her nephew, refusing to believe him. “Who killed him?” she inquired - biting the inner corner of her lips. Her sweet summer boy was taken from her - all she wanted was to make the murderer feel the same way. “Who killed him?” she repeated, watching as Daegon evades her stare. “Daegon,” she says firmly - holding his collar.
“Prince Aemond,” he replied reluctantly - knowing that there was a connection between them. Rhaenyra’s face turns stoic and cold. She lets go of the boy - and begins striding towards the castle. Ignoring Saera who was arguing with her.
—
(Alyssa’s POV)
Queen Alicent was my guardian in the absence of my parents - she was my second mother, providing me with knowledge and advice. But something was different about today. The banners that once flashed black and red, were now green and gold. King Viserys and Princess Rhaenyra would never approve of the change, unless something was amiss.
"Alyssa," the Queen smiled, pouring herself a glass of tea. "My Queen," I bowed, making my way beside her. "- have you seen Aemond?" I inquired, searching the room for the familiar face of my husband. "I will be frank with you, dear girl." the Queen took a deep breath, "- The King is dead." she added.
A gasp escapes my mouth - eyes brimming with tears at the realization that Aegon was king. "- and I have sent Aemond to make negotiations with other houses." the Queen replied - anticipating all the emotions that were flowing out of me.
"Do you believe that we'll be on your side?" I spat - she was like a mother to me, but couldn't betray my actual mother in favor of her. "War will not brew, Alyssa. Alliances are being forged," she comforted, placing a hand on my shoulder - but I shove her away. "What will you do to my siblings? Will you kill them? They pose a threat to your very claim," I interrogate - cursing the gods that there wasn't a knife or a dagger near me.
"They will be cupbearers and squires, my dear."
"My mother would rather kill herself than let that happen." I snap, and someone clears their throat from behind the both of us. It was Larys Strong - my uncle, and he had a dark grin on his face. "Queen Alicent, Princess Alyssa." the man curtsied, quickly making his way beside the Queen - and whispering a few strings of words on her ears. I was unable to hear it, but the premise was clear
Prince Lucerys Velaryon is dead.
Alicent's eyes widened, eyes suddenly shaking and spilling drops of the tea that she was holding. "I apologize, Alyssa - if our meeting is cut short." she stood up, motioning for Ser Criston to bring me back to my room. "What is the meaning of this? I refuse to be included in this treason," I wiggle away from the knight's grasp but his hold remains firm.
"Ser Criston, I beg of you." I pleaded - his brown eyes softened, "I will bring you to Aelor, but please follow whatever the Queen commands." he whispered, pulling me away from the chambers.
—
Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, staring at the men in front of her. “Mysaria mustn’t know of this,” she asserted - knowing that the whore was on her sister’s side. “- I want you to execute Prince Aelor.” she commanded, dropping a few gold coins on the table.
“It will be done, my lady.” the older man replies with a smirk.
“What’s your name again?” She raised her eyebrows.
“My name’s Blood.”
“And I’m Cheese.”
next chapter>>
that's a wrap guys, see u in 2024
taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess @valeridarkness
#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen headcanon#daemon targaryen fic#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen fluff#house targaryen#house of the dragon#daemon headcanons#daemon prince#daemonism#hotd daemon
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i almost lost you | e.m.
pairing: eddie munson x fem! reader
requested: yes
summary: reader is the first to jump into the lake and she gets very injured by the bats which causes her to pass out, her boyfriend eddie is worried that he will lose her
warnings: mentions of blood, injuries from bats, curse words
type: angst/fluff
a/n: kinda enjoyed writing this one, my eddie phase is consuming me, hope you’ll like it<3
word count: 1890
‘So what’s the plan?’ Robin asked looking at the dark water.
‘Well, someone has to go down there.’ (Y/n) answered smoothly. ‘And since none of you are thrilled, I guess I have to do it.’
‘Uh, uh, hell no. You’re not going first.’ Eddie grabbed her hand.
‘Do you wanna do it Eds?’ She tilted her head and his eyes widened. ‘Mhm, that’s what I thought. See you guys in a bit.’
She snatched her hand from Eddie and dived into the depths of the Lover’s Lake.
‘GOD DAMN IT!’ He screamed and tried to catch her but she was already gone.
The whole time she was down there searching for the stupid gate her boyfriend was scared shitless. He wondered how could she hold her breath for such a long time and his mind thought of the worst. But suddenly, her head popped out of the water and all of his worries disappeared.
‘I found it.’ She said while she was trying to catch her breath.
She swam forward to hold the boat but something tugged on her leg.
‘What was that?’ Steve asked and leaned closer to the edge of the boat.
‘I don’t kno-‘ (Y/n) said when she grabbed the boat, she didn’t get to finish her sentence because this something pulled her underwater.
They screamed and tried to grasp her hands but they weren’t on the boat anymore. Eddie and Robin started panicking, he wanted to jump after her but he was too scared.
‘We have to do something!’ Robin’s scream echoed throughout the lake.
Nancy looked at Steve and when he gave her a nod they both jumped into the water.
‘Fucking! Son of a bitch!’ Eddie screamed.
‘It’s your girlfriend! Do something!’
‘Fuck this shit!’ He hissed and jumped overboard, Robin following him a second later.
They swam quickly towards the big red opening at the bottom. In his mind, Eddie feared the worst. When he appeared on the other side he was frightened because of what he saw. The ugly, mortifying bats were eating the flesh of his girlfriend and one of them was choking her. He saw Nancy and Steve helping her with some oars so he grabbed one to and started hitting them one by one. When they finally got rid of them he ran towards (Y/n). He was thankful she was standing, at least she could move and her wounds couldn’t be that bad. At least that’s what he thought, the reality was much worse.
‘I told you to not go down!’ He hugged her quickly.
‘Yeah..’ She croaked. ‘You didn’t want to go so I went.’
He pulled away from her and took a better look at her bloodied face and the scar on her neck. Then he slowly lifted her shirt and he wished he hadn’t. Bite marks were splattered all over her stomach, dark blood leaking out of each one.
‘That bad?’ She asked when she saw everyone staring at her stomach.
‘No..No!’ Nancy said. ‘It’s fine, you’re gonna be okay.’
She tried her best to reassure the injured girl because those wounds didn’t look okay at all. Nancy didn’t want to tell her bad stuff, she needed her to be strong.
‘Um… guys? I think it’s time for us to go.’ Steve said and gave a nod towards the sky where an army of bats was flying towards them.
The group started running away to the woods. (Y/n) didn’t have much strength but she needed to get somewhere safe. When they had found the perfect spot Nancy offered to patch her up. She tore apart some of her clothing and carefully wrapped it around (Y/n)’s stomach. After some rest, the girl said she’s okay and they can continue walking, they had already decided to go to Nancy’s house and get some guns. Throughout the whole journey (Y/n)’s body was giving up on her more and more. She didn’t want to say anything to Eddie, she knew how much he was scared for her and worrying him wouldn’t do much good. When they had finally reached their destination she felt the worst pain yet. She grabbed her stomach and bended her body forwards.
‘Hey, hey what’s happening?’ Eddie was immediately at her side holding her up.
‘No-nothing, just..hurts.’ She mumbled between her deep sighs.
‘Nancy can we lay her down somewhere?’
‘There is a sofa over there. Watch out for the vines!’ She replied and pointed her finger towards the living room.
‘Eds, I can’t…it hurts so much..’
‘You’re gonna be fine! Just a few more steps baby…’ He said and suddenly her body went numb. ‘(Y/n)? (Y/n) baby? Oh god. Fuck.’
He hurried towards the couch and placed her body on it. His hands grabbed her face and started tapping it lightly. He was terrified but he checked her pulse, she was alive.
‘Hey, (Y/n), can you hear me baby? Please wake up, (Y/n) please.’
Nancy came over and looked at her wounds after she had took of the “bandaid”.
‘Oh no.’ She whispered. ‘Steve go to the kitchen and see if there is a first aid kit!’
The boy hurried towards the room and started searching for the item. Meanwhile Eddie was trying to not have a panic attack and stay calm.
‘Is she gonna be okay? Please tell me she’ll be okay.’ He said, his voice slightly breaking. ‘I can’t lose her, I can’t lose her like this..’
‘I think she’ll be okay Eddie, we have to disinfect the wounds and bandage her up first.’ She took the first aid kit from Steve who had just returned. ‘Move over there’ She nodded her head towards the other edge of the couch.
Eddie scooted over to the side and grabbed (Y/n)’s legs. He felt something warm and lifted his hand.
‘Wheeler?’ He whispered and Nancy turned her head.
She looked at his hand covered in blood and then her eyes wandered to (Y/n)’s legs.
‘Take off her pants, quickly.’ She said. ‘Robin, Steve you go upstairs and look for something useful, I should have the guns in my closet in a shoe box. I’ll meet you up there as soon as I finish.’
They both ran upstairs while Eddie wiggled (Y/n) out of her pants. The view wasn’t exactly pleasant to the eye. He didn’t say anything, he just stood there with wide eyes while he was scanning all the wounds on his girlfriend’s body. Nancy told him to help her which he did immediately. They quickly bandaged her belly again after Nancy had disinfected it, then she looked at the girl’s legs and swallowed a huge lump in her throat, it was worse than she had thought. She didn’t respond to Eddie’s questions anymore, she just wanted to stop the blood from leaving (Y/n)’s body as soon as possible. When she finished her job she hesitantly placed two fingers on her neck and after she felt the pulse she gave a sigh of relief.
‘Stay here with her and check for her pulse occasionally. I’ll go help the others upstairs.’ She said and smiled at him softly.
Eddie just nodded his head and took a seat on the floor. He started stroking (Y/n)’s hair with one hand and he used the other to hold hers. And suddenly everything occurred to him, he understood how real this situation was, how close he was to losing her. He would never forgive himself if that happened, she was his happy place, his sunshine, without her he wouldn’t be himself. She had helped him unlock things about himself he hadn’t known about. She had been there for him when he had needed her most and she had always stood up for him. A quiet sob escaped him and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. He caressed her face and kissed her cheek.
‘Please don’t leave me, you’re all I have.’ He whispered in her ear and buried his face in her hair. ‘I will never love again if I lose you, you showed me what being in love feels like and it’s better than all the fucking drugs and shit.’
He placed his fingers on her neck, she was still alive which gave him hope and he kept trying to wake her up. His face was still in her hair, he was smelling her shampoo and perfumes. Eddie placed one of his hands on her chest, he felt it slowly lifting and falling while he was whispering sweet words and pleadings to her.
‘I could give up everything to meet you again, I would sell my music tapes, my rings, my car.” He said sniffling. ‘I would even get rid of my guitar if it meant spending the eternity with you so please, please come back to me, I love you so much.’
He heard a soft chuckle and his head shot up. (Y/n)’s tired eyes were looking straight into his and a soft smile was plastered on her face. He wanted to squeeze her tightly but he knew it wasn’t the best idea so he just went back to his previous spot and nuzzled into her neck.
‘I’m not leaving you so soon, don’t worry pretty boy.’
‘God, I thought I lost you.’ He whispered, another sob escaping his mouth.
‘Hey, hey, baby…’ She turned her head and tried to look at him. ‘Please don’t cry, I’m here. I’ll always be with you.’ She lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek.
He melted into her touch and closed his eyes.
‘I’m gonna be okay Eds, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘I was so scared.. You have no idea how much you mean to me, I can’t even put it into words.’ He sniffled and hugged her again.
‘I think I might have an idea since you wanted to get rid of your best girl for me.’
‘My guitar is nothing compared to you and you know YOU are my best girl.’ He gave her a quick peck and started stroking her cheek with his thumb.
‘I know.’ She whispered and gave him a smirk. ‘And why the fuck am I almost naked?’
Eddie laughed and wiped away his tears.
‘Don’t you rather be almost naked than bleeding out?’ He asked.
‘Mhm, fair.’ She mumbled.
‘I’m sorry.’ She heard Eddie whisper.
‘What?? What are you sorry for?’ A confused expression was written on her face.
‘I should’ve gone down. None of this would’ve happened if I wasn’t a coward.’
‘Eddie, you’re not a coward, stop saying that.’ She shook her head.
‘All of this is my fault.’
‘No. Don’t say that Eddie, come here.’ He rested his head on her arm, her other hand was stroking his messy hair. ‘You are my hero, Eddie. If you hadn’t helped me and talked to me, who knows what could’ve happened? Please don’t blame yourself for this, it could’ve happened to any of us. Okay?’
‘Mhm.’ He mumbled.
‘I love you Eddie and I’m so thankful that you’re here and so proud that you jumped and tried to save me. You did your best, baby.’ (Y/n)’s sweet voice finally calmed him down.
‘Thank you.’ He looked at her with puffy eyes.
‘You have nothing to thank me for, I should be the one thanking you.’ She said and kissed the tip of his nose. ‘You saved me. As always.’
taglist: @r93339 @stvrdustalexx @cursedandromedablack @ccosmic-illusion @luvwanda @justice4lils @heizenka @wolfstarsimpxx @miss-bloodbath @screambih @lyntic @freeshavocadoooo @laracrof7s @naturalswifty89 @bvmbshell @alainabooks143 @squidwardsluverxx @phantomxoxo @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @stilesks @ilovedilfs32 @kaitlin-r130 @greengarsstuff @axen-gers @088i880 @ilovefictionalbrunettes
#stranger things#imagine#x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie mundon x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie stranger things#joseph quinn#stranger thing s4
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I love the norm x Navi trader that you write! I’d love to see something where they do end up having a kid but end up with twins which are probably like super rare for Navi
This has been in my inbox for a millenia
Two Blessings
Pairing- Norm x Na'vi!reader
Summary- Norm Fluff w/ pregnant reader and the birth of twins.
Warnings- Pregnancy, pregnancy with twins, mentions of throwing up, birth, descriptions of the said birth, cursing
Na'vi Translations: kalweyaveng- son of a bitch, Tsawke- Sun, Oare- moon
Tsahik Mo'at rubbed her cool hand on your little bumped up belly and her face contorted to one of confusion. You begin to worry and squeeze your mate's hand and look at him full in panic mode. He winced at how strong you hrip was thinking the great mother ve decided to go Na'vi form today. She brought her other hand to your stomach on two different parts. Her mouth opened slightly and the sides curled up slightly. She pulled her hands from your stomach and put the few things she brought with her in her bag. This did nothing to ease your panic and worry.
"Do not worry 'eveng." She said, smiling towards you. "Eywa has blessed you," she said and you were now even more confused as was Norm you already knew that much. "With two." She said and Norm's eyes widened as he looked at your stomach.
He was in shock, two. Two kids. His kids. His thumb caressed your stomach as he looked to Mo'at who was getting a sign from the great mother.
"They have strong hearts. One will be mighty and brave but she will be careless." Your smile widened that you were going to have a daughter. "The other he will be less brave but will be a great healer and smarter than his sister." She said looking into the space before blinking.
She left you two and Norm's hand rested on your stomach he leaned down and placed two small kisses on your tummy making you giggle before sitting up and throwing you hands over his neck, trapping him in a hug. Not that he minded.
"We will have a daughter and a son Ma Norm." You say as tears pricked at your eyes.
All the battling, all the blood, carnage, and death you never thought that it would end but here you sitting with your lover, your Norm someone of Sky people origin with a growing family, it was all coming together.
It was a rough pregnancy, you weren't going to lie. Morning sickness all the time, you couldn't eat anything sweet even the smell of sweet fruit or candy made you want to vomit. And for some reason you wanted your dinner extra spicy every night. And your emotions were a disarray when you woke up and he had his back turned to you, even if you were the one who turned over at night, waterworks. He made a joke about naming your guy's son Yoda after some creature in a sky people movie, he had to sleep on Jake and Neytiri's floor for three nights and he had kid feet all up in his face.
And the birth wasn't easy either.
The pain of one of their heads getting ready to crown shot through you as you screamed head thewing back as you screamed. "Get them out of me!" You screamed at everyone, some of the healers that helped Mo'at who sat in front of you looked terrified as they handed the Tsahik her supplies.
"Okay one hard push and then breath." Mo'at instructed and you only shook your head, closing your eyes and gripping Norm. "Now!" Mo'at explained. Your other hand held onto a healer who looked like he wanted to cry, clenching your jaw you pushed as hard as you could. You breathe and Norm comforts you by kissing the top of your sweaty head.
"Push " and push you did. Pushing as hard as you could you screamed in pain. "Ah- Norm.." you said pushing and he never thought he would hear what you were about to say. "You kalweyaveng you did this to me, ah eywa- great mother- I'm going to k..kill you." You screamed before pushing once more and one of them was out now. The sound of baby squalling surrounded the birthing tent.
Giving the baby to Norm, "It is the girl." She said before ducking in front of you as you begin to push more and look up at Norm who stared in awe at his daughter even though she was covered in placenta and blood she was most beautiful, but your son he was stubborn not wanting to come out, you kept pushing and pushing and then giving one more hard push his head finally popped out. His cry was much softer than his sister who had finally calmed down in her fathers arm.
Norm crouched next to you as you held your son and he held your daughter. They were truly the most perfect things you've ever seen and they were all yours.
"Let's name them," he paused for a moment before the perfect names came to mind. "Tsawke and Oare." Norm said and you smiled at him. "Yes, you shall be our Tsawke." You cooed to your daughter who had her tongue out of her mouth and stared at her father. And then you look at your son who was asleep. "And you shall be our Oare."
#avatar 2#avatar 2022#avatar#avatar 2009#avatar way of water#norm avatar#norm should have had more screen time#norm spellman x y/n#norm spellman x reader#norm spellman#avatar x reader fluff#avatar x y/n#avatar x you#avatar x reader#navi reader
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please go gentle into that good night (childe x reader)
tags: primordial!reader (she/her), reader is death personified, is annoyance to lovers applicable here??
The 11th Harbinger has seen death, there is no question about it among the agents of the Fatui. Scarred from battle after battle, always thirsty for more, death is a familiar friend of the Harbinger.
He’s delivered death to many in his endless pursuit of strength.
Has been on death’s door more times than anyone could hope to count.
“Oh, I’ve seen death and I don’t mean metaphorically,” Childe has laughed, sitting with his men drinking firewater around a fire indulging pleasantly in the friendly chatter. That’s all that is needed for the discussion to divulge into enthusiastic regales of his conquests, mostly regaled by his enthusiastic men while the newest recruits listen in awe. Yet no one will notice how their Harbinger falls silent, peering into his reflection with a light grin.
Ajax has seen death.
Felt her cold fingers caress his face, thumbing away the blood that dripped down his cheeks. Saw her eyebrows knit in concern and frustration in equal measure. Took in her cloak, black as the void. Could feel the fatigue in the heavy bags under her eyes.
Death is a woman and she is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman Ajax has ever seen.
They first met when he was simply a recruit, a far cry from the Harbinger he is in the present somewhere off the border of Fontaine and Liyue. The mission was a success, though the casualties were great in number.
There you formed from out of water, void-black cloak and all, taking in the sight of the bloodbath. Then your eyes rested on him, expression unreadable.
He knew who you were immediately.
“Humans,” you scowled, tone bereft of resentment as you kneeled to touch his face and he shuddered from the chill. Death looked at him and he looked back, all while feeling the gentle reverence in your touch with a voice like the night, soft yet coarse. Comfort enveloped in an instinctual fear.
An unending juxtaposition.
Ajax now knows you enough to know how you likely felt that day, staring at a bloody Fatuus crumpled against a large rock. They were your foolish but beautiful, endlessly aging humans.
“If you keep this up,” you told him, staring into his blue eyes unshakingly. “You’ll end up being one of my passengers.”
“You’re beautiful,” Ajax saw you balk in confusion, his reply unexpected.
“Fool,” you all but hissed as you stood and Ajax found it adorable. It’s another accomplish that he, Tartaglia, holds alone. He flustered Death itself. “Cherish your life, Fatuus,” you told him, summoning your oar to your side. “Cherish it so it is a long time before we see each other again.”
“My name is Ajax,” he laughed and he coughed painfully. “And I hope the next time we see each other again, it isn’t much longer!”
Your head shaking in exasperation was your only response as you took to the corpses, gathering the souls of the lost. Some left with ease, others sobbed in despair and others resisted you in their entirety. Yet all were eventually sat on boat you fashioned out of water, resting atop of the river that you would ride to take them home.
With a sparing glance to the living, to Ajax, you drifted away thinking this to be the last time you would encounter Ajax of the Fatui.
Much to his pleasure and your chagrin, it was not.
“You have a death wish,” Arlecchino told him once, chock full of contempt and vinegar.
“You’re not wrong about that one, comrade,” the 11th Harbinger grinned with a barking laugh. “It’s just that with all my wishing, she can’t seem to stand me.”
You had met each other countlessly, taking in that foolish Fatuus’ battle scars. Each time he learned something new about you and in turn he happily gushed about himself. He had many tells to share of his homeland, his family and the Tsaritsa he follows and you always listened.
“Keep this up and I’ll kill you myself,” you told him one particular encounter after a stint in his Foul Legacy form.
“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Ajax grinned, ignoring how you flicked his forehead in annoyance.
You glared at the redhead sharply, “who would there be to tell?”
Ajax’s grin only grew wider, “I knew you wanted me, Death, but I didn’t know you wanted me that much.”
If looks could kill, Ajax is sure in that moment he would have been killed ten times over. “Can you not ask your god for jobs that won’t leave you at my door? Can you at least attempt to refrain yourself from violence?”
“But then how would I see you again?”
“When it’s finally your time to-”
“That could take forever,” Ajax whined and you groaned in disbelief. “How about this. Tell me your name and I promise to at least give it half a year before you have to see me again.”
You fixed him with a look, “you already know my name.”
With a shake of his head, Ajax clarified, “I don’t mean what everyone else calls you.” Death is what you are, not your name. “No one calls the Tsaritsa ‘Cryo’ or the Lord of Geo ‘Geo’. You have some sort of personal name, don’t you?” When you say nothing immediately, his expression morphs into a sad curiosity. “Is that really all anyone ever calls you?”
You hesitated only a moment longer before you finally answeredー “The ones affiliated with Celestia call me Pursan,” Ajax leaned forward in anticipation, blue staring into [color]. “But you may call me [First].”
[First].
[First].
“[First],” he relished the sound of your name. What would he give to hear you say his name? He would promise you kingdoms, entire nations at your feet. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for it, no promises of conquered nations required.
“Keep your promise to me, Ajax,” his name dripped from your lips like honey and he wished you would say it again. “If you’re determined to continue this fool’s errand, I don’t want to see you any sooner than what you’ve promised.”
All of this leads to now, Ajax nursing a moderately sized cut on his stomach whilst sitting along the banks of Yashiori Island nine months later. Despite the hard-to-use cutlery, Ajax is fond of Inazuma. The duels permitted by the land is one he favors, it isn’t something he expected from the Nation of Eternity.
It is a perk that a duel a foolhardy coward challenged him to would lead to something that would surely catch your attention. He can hear you scolding him already, nursing him back to health all the while.
“You’re there aren’t you?” He asks the waves lapping the shore, welcoming the cool evening breeze brushing against his skin. You’re Death, you’re never too far. You’re everywhere at any place at any time. It’s part of your charm.
When he sees the waves falter, he knows he is correct as streams of water raise to create your form. The ferrywoman donned in black, Death in the flesh. Even with your tired reproachful look, Ajax can’t bring himself to regret his actions.
He’ll gladly do them time and time again even for a hint of you.
"Don’t you get tired of this, Ajax?” There’s nothing to be tired of, not when it allows him the thrill of battle. When it allows him to further his strength. Your arrival only sweetens the persistent battle he chases.
“Of seeing you?” Ajax drawls, pleased to take you in before you left him once more. “Never.”
You’re scowling, just like when you first met him, and yet all the same, your touch is gentle as you brush your fingertips against his cheek. Despite the chill that touches him to the bone, he leans into your touch and places a hand against yours. “You’re a fool,” you tell him and he smiles lazily in return. “Chase someone in the land of the living. There are plenty that would be taken with you.”
Ajax ignores that request promptly, “are you here to take me?”
“I am not,” you reply without missing a beat.
“But one day you will,” he sighs, almost dreamily. In any other context, he is sure the sentiment is frighteningly morbid. “There’s some bandages in my supply bag,” he motions to his supply bag nonchalantly and you part away from him. “Of course, it would be a win-win situation to the both of us if you would visit me more often. No wounds required,” he isn’t disheartened by your lack of response. “The cuisine of Inazuma is quite nice. But if you’re not one for Inazuman food, I know quite a few places in Liyue Harbor.”
Supplies in hand, you kneel in front of him. “Remove your shirt please.”
He considers joking that you should at least take him to dinner first, but instead he removes his shirt quietly. The cold of your hands feel reminiscent to the cold of his homeland. He wonders how much of it you’ve seen in the past. If you’ve ever truly seen it. You mentioned before you’ve never had a day off in the eons of your existence. How could one truly see the beauty of the land if they never stopped to appreciate it?
I hope I can take you to Morepesok. Ajax burns something fierce akin to freezer burn. (Strange when what runs in your veins is the same deep blue of his Vision.) During a holiday when he’s guaranteed time to go home and visit his family. He burns for you to see it, to take any time for yourself to dance alongside the hearth alongside Tonia and to play games with Anthon and Teucer.
How alive would you be then, you who cherishes life more than anyone in the land of the living?
“I don’t think many can say they’ve had their wounds tended to by death itself,” Ajax starts and when you say nothing, he continues on unperturbed. “Isn’t keeping me alive cheating?”
You glance at him from your work of lightly dabbing his wound with your water. “Not cheating,” you answer at last. “It isn’t yet your time.”
“Do you know when it will be?”
“Yes,” you begin to ravel the bandage around him.
“Will you tell me when that is?”
“I will not,” and he sighs something along the lines of ‘I suppose I won’t be receiving any spoilers as to when you can stop avoiding me’ in Snezhnayan. You look at him and he wonders how much of his tongue you understand, if at all. He hopes to teach it to you, should you ever ask. “There,” you finish your bandaging in record time. “I can at least say I’m pleased you kept your promise to stay out of major trouble. Nine months is a record for you.”
Your smile is small, barely visible under the light of the moon and stars as silence falls over you. You’d insist that one like you is at home in the darkness, Ajax argues that one like you is a child of the sun.
“[First],” he rests a hand on your cheek, wanting to imprint every feature into his palms so that he won’t forget what they’re like. When you don’t reject him, he leans hoping to catch your lips with his own. Instead, he feels your finger tips and he opens his eyes to stare into the unknowable look yours hold.
“Live, Ajax,” you murmur like you’re telling him a treasured secret. He truly loves the way you say his name. “This fascination borders obsession. Whatever you want, you won’t find it in me. Find someone else to chase and live. Live long and live it well. Your life is precious.”
Love, obsession, it’s the same thing no?
He wonders if one can truly put an age on Death. You are one who has lived eons, definitely older than Zhongli. Probably as old as Teyvat itself. He wonders what it must be like for you, feared by many and only wanted by one. Ajax wants you deeply. Perhaps you think he lost his mind those three months in the dark realm he stumbled into as a child.
You will never call it love no matter how much he begs to differ.
We’ll have to agree to disagree. Finally, Ajax moves back from your fingers, “Is it precious to you?”
“Your life is precious to many people,” you tell him, resting your hand in your lap. “To your mother and your father, to your siblings in Snezhnayaー”
He asks again, “but is it precious to you?”
In spite of his Hydro Vision, he burns. He burns to know your answer, burns for your acceptance. It’s a burning that can only be sated by the chill of your being pressed against his.
Death looks at himー you look at him and he looks back.
Ajax’s eyes flutter shut when you lean forward, and he feels your breath ghost his lips. Yet nothing follows and when he opens his eyes, all that remains of your presence is the damp sand where you once knelt.
You’re a cruel woman, [First], Ajax laughs humorlessly, wondering how long it would be until your paths crossed once more. He sets camp close to the beach, the rhythm of the waves lulling him to sleep and the dull ache of his wounds remind him that he’s alive.
Ajax will see you again, it’s only a matter of when.
Will it be when he’s on your door once more? Frustration in your eyes as you insist he let go of his feelings you won’t allow yourself to return?
Or will it be the end of his time roaming Teyvat, unable to continue his endeavor to become the strongest? When that time comes, will you greet him warmly or with a look of melancholy as you hold out your hand for him to board your boat?
Or perhaps the next time he sees you, you’ll accept his outstretched hand and follow him out of the dark and into the light. You’ll follow him to appreciate the seven nations, saving his homeland for last. You’ll dance with his siblings and smile widely, accepting the reprieve from your grim duties as his mother insists you eat more of her solyanka.
Nor will you run from his lips when they seek yours.
Death brought to life.
He’ll live long enough to see the day, that much he can promise.
“Пока мы не встретимся снова,” Ajax thinks before sleep takes him for the evening. Until we meet again.
#look she's writing#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#ajax x reader#writer's block works hard but i struggle harder#he gave the reader the princess mononoke treatment#death!reader au
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Chapter Six: Prophetic Girl
The Pariahs That Saved The World
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: canon-events (demobats), some fluffy bits in this one, vecna's curse, not proof-read
[A/N: Oh my goodness, the procrastinator has returned- Whew, thank you all for your patience! I finally found some time to finish the next chapter; I really didn't want to rush anything so just know this one was created with every ounce of love <3)
Prophetic Girl
You don’t know why you dived into the water with the others.
You weren’t a particularly strong swimmer, nor did you have a heroic nature urging you to help save a friend.
The look Robin gave you as her best friend was dragged under the water was probably the culprit, ripping open your heart with her absolute terror.
That was the scariest part of it all. The emotional discipline you had forced upon yourself over the past year could be shattered in seconds from just one look, reigniting a feeling you thought was lost forever. And god dammit, you would do anything to make sure that feeling never got away from you again.
“Steve!” Robin screams as you pull yourself out of the gate, wiping the water from your face.
The Upside Down. It wasn’t like you expected it to be. You know they had described it as a reflection of Hawkins, a darker universe than the one you resided in, yet part of you always assumed there’d be something strangely beautiful about this place. But you were here now, rushing to the others to help them fight off the local bats, looking around with nothing but disgust on your face.
Perhaps you couldn’t find the beauty in everything after all.
You barely reached the others before Eddie was shouting behind you. Duck? In the last second, you mange to crouch to the ground and avoid something with claws flying over your head, screeching into the dark sky. You blink. Was that a…
“Bats!” Eddie exasperates, grabbing an oar from the ground and charging full speed at the one swinging back for a second time.
It was a chaotic blur of stress and adrenaline, somehow batting away small razor sharp teeth and wrestling against their surprisingly slimy bodies. You had managed to pull one from Nancy’s back and drive your boot down on its head before Robin pulled you away from an attack, Eddie’s oar quick to slam it to the ground.
Steve was bitten pretty badly, the first thing you observed as he spat out the head of a bat, panting. You thought Eddie was about to explode from excitement, looking at you with wide eyes and suppressing a smile. How he managed to find joy even in hell, you would never know.
“You okay?” Robin’s hand shook as she places both hands on her best friend’s shoulders, worried eyes searching his. He lets out a breathy laugh and nods, her body practically depleting in relief.
“You’re sure?” Nancy prompts, and he examines himself closer, still nodding. “Took about a pound of flesh but, uh, other than that… never better.”
You let out a sigh and wipe your brow, watching as Robin crouches beside you to shine a light on a bat corpse.
“Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?” Robin questions, looking up at you with a frown.
“What?” Steve gapes, and you suck in your lips.
“It’s just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear.” She explains, standing back up, “And I think we should get you to a doctor really soon because once symptoms set in, it’s too late. You’re already dead.”
Both Steve and Nancy look at her in exasperation, their features clearly telling that they didn’t appreciate Robin’s spiralling input. You start to smirk.
“Or you’ll become a vampire.” You offer with a grin and he mockingly nods his head.
“We need to get you patched up.” Nancy states, looking dishevelled from the fight, looking around, “Maybe we can-”
The trail of thoughts were lost as you all watch another group of bats fly down to where the gate rested, tearing at it. You squint your eyes, focusing. What were they doing?
“Uh, guys?” Eddie interrupts, and you turn to see him staring at the sky, your eyes widening. “I think we need to get out of here.”
“Nah, there’s not that many, we can take ‘em.” Steve breathes out, wincing when you lightly tap him. But it draws everyone else’s focus up to the sight that had you and Eddie stood in fear.
As your eyes fixate on the litter of shapes between the warm clashes of red and blue, you quickly start to nod, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him into a run as you all silently agree to a fast escape.
“The trees!” You yell, pointing to your left and you all head for the treeline, ducking for cover just as the bats attempt to swoop down, blocked by the thick expanse of wood.
You all manage to huddle under the flipped version of Skull Rock, panting as the bats fly past with no prey in their sight.
“That… was more cardio than I paid for.” Robin gasps and you collapse against a rock, catching your breath.
Nancy was quick to start patching Steve up despite his polite objections. You even raised an impressed eyebrow when she rips off the hem of her shirt to substitute bandages with fabric, sharing a look of awe with Eddie.
Out the corner of your eye, you see Robin trying to calm Steve down in a way that would have you smiling. But Steve didn’t look to be in the smiling nature.
Calmly, you place a hand on her shoulder and gently guide her away, the girl giving you a smile.
Instead of berating her best friend with a million facts and questions that would probably stress him out, she took a seat on the ground opposite you, her smile noticeably less bright when Eddie plops directly beside you, groaning.
“So… anyone got a blunt?”
“Jesus Christ.” You groan with a smirk, eyeing him with amusement. “You seriously think now is a good time to be getting high?”
“I personally think this is the best time to get high.” He says with confidence, stretching out his legs.
“You’re an idiot.” You say, adoration in your voice that made Robin’s skin crawl.
“Ouch.” He mockingly holds his hand to his heart, “I wasn’t treated this way when you needed a smoke after you rear-ended Mrs Click’s car-”
“Shut up!” You hiss with laughter, gently shoving him away from you and he chuckles, shoving back.
As she watched the two of you tease one another with an ease that made her queasy, Robin’s brows furrowed. You were both much closer than she had hoped for.
“Why did you guys break up?”
The quiet laughter broke into silence, inquisitive eyes suddenly set on hers. She feels her ears burn, quickly swooping her hair forward to conceal them.
“Thank you for asking.” Eddie claps his hands like it was an interview and you roll your eyes, immediately easing the tension. “Well, you see, we were like, what? 15? 15. It was cute, very short, and we realised we were better friends. Right?”
“That’s about it.” You shrug, smiling. Your eyes land on hers with a lightness to them that made her heart swoon.
“So why did you even get together in the first place?” She frowns, face dropping when his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, god, that sounded meaner than it did in my head.”
“We hadn’t really tried the friend part yet.” You chuckle, and Eddie hums.
“Too blinded by our mutual hatred for King Steve and his merry band of idiots.”
“So you could say Steve brought us closer together.” You quip and Robin suppresses a laugh.
“One of you say my name?” Steve suddenly asks and you all fall into laughter, ignoring the boy’s curious frown.
After a while, Eddie shakes his head and jumps up to stalk over to a fallen tree trunk, inspecting it.
“He’s pretty cool.” Robin sighs, watching him step up onto the wood and survey the land like an explorer.
“Yeah.” You look over your shoulder with a smile, something like sadness flickering across your face for just a fleeting moment. If Robin didn’t find herself completely captivated with every movement you made, she would have missed it completely. Was it… regret? Did you regret the break up? Did you want him back-
“So, uh…” Eddie’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts as you all turn to where he stood at the tip of the tree trunk. “This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”
“Pretty much.” Nancy responds, grunting a little as she attempts to shift some of Steve’s weight onto her. “Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hive mind.”
“It’s all a what?”
“All the creepy crawlies around here, dude. They’re like, one or something.” Steve tries to explain, wincing as he brushes his hand over the bandages.
“I repeat, it’s all a what?” Eddie frowns and you stand up, grimacing.
“Uh, step on a vine, you step on literally everything else at the same time and then, well, evil wizard comes to snap our bones.” You shrug, his mouth parted in shock as he nods slowly in recognition.
“Shit.” He simply says, starting his descent.
“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people, obviously?” Robin appears beside you, her arm brushing against yours.
“As far as I understand it, yeah.” Nancy nods and you can practically hear the cogs turning in Robin’s mind, humming with excitement.
“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.” She suggests and you vigorously nod along to her idea, loving where her mind was at.
“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin. But guns, yeah, sure.” Steve rolls his eyes and you hum.
“I don’t know, I definitely think Hopper would stash grenades somewhere.” You say and Nancy tilts her head in acknowledgement, silently agreeing.
“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns.” Nancy says and you raise your eyebrow. “I have guns. In my bedroom.”
“You,” Eddie jumps down with surprise, brows furrowed. “Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?”
“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin grins.
Eddie doesn’t look convinced.
“Be a sceptic, but I watched her shoot at a demogorgon that was emerging from the ceiling.” You snort, crossing your arms. “And I gotta tell ya, Nancy owning guns is the least surprising thing in that sentence.”
“A Russian Makarov and a revolver.” Nancy confirms.
“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve comments, getting closer.
Nancy starts to smile, turning her head to him. “You almost deserved it.”
They share a look and you twist your face. “Gag me with a spoon.”
“I got it.” Eddie says, slipping off his denim vest and launching it at Steve, the boy barely catching it before it hit his face. “For your modesty, dude.”
You almost laughed at his face until the ground violently shook beneath you, throwing you off balance and sending you crashing into Robin. She tried her best to catch you, but she was already falling to the ground, your body laying on top of her and you both squeezed your eyes shut until the earthquake stopped.
“What… the hell… was that?” You pant, turning your head to see Robin’s wide eyes staring back at you. For a second, you couldn’t peel your eyes away, closer than you ever would have imagined.
The moment was short-lived, a chorus of snarls and screeches echoing through the woods like an omen.
“Yeah, so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie gasps.
“Yeah me too.”
“Me three.”
You and Robin both reply as you peel away from eachother, avoiding eye contact like neither of you had any kind of self-restraint.
It was impossible not to notice a particular pair of eyes on you as your own stayed glued to the ground, unfamiliar with the Upside Down and its tricks. For anyone to be watched would be somewhat discomforting, but not in this particular instance. Because, for as long as you can remember now, anytime she’s looked away, your eyes have been returning the favour.
“Did you wanna say something?”
You finally break the silent streak occurring between you and Robin, her sheepish smile brightening her face once she realises she’s been caught.
“I, uh…” She fumbles around for an excuse, letting out a low whistle. “Was just making sure you’re okay. That’s all. Nothing weird.”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” You laugh, catching her eyes and she almost melts. “Do I not look okay?”
“You look amazing.” Robin shakes her head, blinking when she realises what she just said. “Uh, I didn’t mean that. Not that you don’t look amazing, you do, even after all of that. Not in a weird- what I meant to say was I don’t think you aren’t okay, I was just…”
She lets out a groan and you laugh again.
“I’ve just dragged you into this and I can’t help thinking it will be my fault if you aren’t okay.”
“Robin.” You carefully step over a vine, clearing your throat. “Before you showed up at my door, I was already deciding that I was going to help.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You bite your lip, shrugging. “The, uh, the first time Nancy asked me to help, I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wasn’t in the mood to try and save a town that I hated. It was… complicated.”
“What changed your mind?”
“My gran.” You smile, albeit sadly. “I suddenly realised that I’ve lost too many people here. Even if… even if I don’t belong here, the people living in this town don’t deserve to die. I can’t just leave when people I care about are in danger.”
“So my whole speech was just for nothing?”
“Not for nothing.” You shake your head, suddenly sending her a smirk. “It was very entertaining.”
“Shut up.” Robin giggles, nudging your arm playfully.
As she does, her joy momentarily distracts her from her own very important mission: do not trip.
It almost cost her, glancing down at the last second to come to a screeching halt, the toes of her boots a fraction away from brushing the side of a vine. Her sudden stop itself threw her off balance, and she felt herself falling back.
Until your hands reached out and caught hers, pulling her closer to you before she fell victim to gravity completely.
“Thanks.” She says breathlessly, and you can only nod, looking down to where your fingers interlocked hers.
Clearing your throat, you take your hands back and offer a smile, ignoring the sickly sweet feeling of your heartbeat drumming a little faster than it had been before your hands found someone’s to hold.
“Gotta be careful.” You whisper, returning your eyes to the path and moving towards Nancy’s silhouette up ahead. Robin stood there for a moment longer, biting her lip.
She was just torturing herself now. Either she said something, prayed for some kind of miracle, or she moved on. There was no point living in this romance limbo when there were more important things to worry about.
Her feet were tired by the time you reach the Wheeler house, shifting in her shoes as Steve takes the flashlight from her and clicks it on, the door creaking beneath his push.
The interior reflected its exterior, dark and covered head to toe with vines that made her grimace at the sight.
“Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.” Robin jokes, almost jumping when she hears you shut the door.
“Sorry.” You mouth, walking into the space. “Wow. Love the décor.”
“Come on,” Nancy tilts her head to the staircase, “I don’t want to stay here longer than we have to.”
She starts bounding up the steps, and Robin gives you a shrug before she and Eddie start to follow up, your own footsteps behind Steve’s. Except, for some reason, he stops.
“Hello?” You crane your neck around to where he’s shining the flashlight at nothing. “Earth to Steve?”
“Shhh.” He whispers, holding a finger to his lips. You frown. “I hear something.”
“Oh god.” Your shoulders slump. “You’re not hallucinating, are you? Because I can’t be the one to tell Robin the rabies got you.”
“Just… shut up.” He says, slipping past you and moving to the corner. “It’s him.”
Any sarcastic quips you had rattling around your brain were pushed away, fear flooding your body. “Vecna?”
“What? No, no.” He shakes his head, holding his finger in the air. “Henderson.”
“Hend-” You stop, tilting your head. “You can hear Dustin?”
“Just…” He sighs and waltz over to you, placing a hand on your back and moving you to where he was previously stood.
“Oh, hey, Y/n, come over here.” You mumble as you shrug his hand off of you. “What am I-”
“Just listen.” He says and you sigh, shutting your mouth and entertaining the idea.
For a moment, nothing.
And then the voice whispers around you, muffled, and most definitely Dustin’s.
“Holy shit.” You breathe out and Steve nods furiously. “Holy shit.”
“Dustin!” He starts to shout and you join him, the both of you shouting around the space. “Dustin!”
Once they hear your yelling, the other three are running down the stairs, Robin’s heart beating fast, assuming that the minute she left you had been attacked and there would be no way to-
“What the…” Eddie mutters and she widens her eyes in disbelief.
“Dustin! Hello?!”
The two of you are yelling at the walls and ceilings, making her blink.
“Maybe he really does have rabies.” She comments and Eddie frowns.
“Is it contagious?” He asks and she tilts her head, still fixated on the shouting frenzy.
“Only if he bit her.”
“Hello?” Dustin?!”
“Guys, what are you doing?” Nancy interrupts your next cry for the young boy and you turn to them, breathing heavy.
“We heard Dustin.” You breathlessly explain and Steve nods behind you, still shouting.
“He's here. Henderson. That little shit, he's here. He's like... He's in the walls or something. Just listen.” Steve grins at them before walking away, continuing his call. “Dustin!”
“Uh…” You stare as he spins around in a circle. “He might look crazy, but I promise he’s right. Listen.”
You watch the realisation fall over their faces, making you smile.
They fan out, calling out his name and following in Steve’s lead, trying to communicate with the boy on the other side.
As you go to join them, you catch something out of the corner of your eye, reflecting on the glass of the window. You can still hear Dustin’s voice droning in and out, like a radio that hadn’t been sent to the right frequency. But it didn’t sound the same as before. Something was different.
Your refection was blurry, making you squint. Goosebumps started to trail across your skin, making you shiver. It wasn’t your reflection.
Robin was the only to see how you blinked into a state of paralysis, immediately calling out for help as she rushes over to you.
It seemed like Vecna had something else to say.
Chapter Seven, coming soon...
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#stranger things x reader#stranger things#fanfic#stranger things reader insert#robin buckley x you#robin x reader#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x female reader#st4 fanfic#st4#wlw#sapphic fic#wlw fanfic
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