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#anyway i only finished the second dungeon
yourdoorisunlocked · 30 days
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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 5
🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️
𝐀/𝐍: *Emerges from dungeon* TIS TIME! I BRING GIFTS, MY CHILDREN!
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟖𝟗𝟒 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑨𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒍𝒚
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"𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓. 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕."
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. . .
The whistle of snowflakes dancing through the gloomy winter air was a faint tickle against your ears as you slumped boredly in your seat with a soft pout forming upon your chapped lips. It felt like you had been waiting for Alastor’s return for a long, dragging eternity.  
You had long since ceased your search of the store as the minutes dragged on, and soon you retreated back to the waiting room to wait for Alastor. 
But leaving yourself alone with your thoughts in mere silence proved to be one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made. 
You scrunched your nose up in disbelief. What could they even be discussing that was so important, anyway? And Alastor was so quick to get rid of you, and he hadn’t even thought to introduce his friend to you! Instead, he flung you around like some toy that wasn’t meant to be shared! 
Granted, you already knew Rosie’s name, but your point still stood! 
You looked over to the grandfather clock. A little over half-past noon, now. You sighed with slight ire and looked out toward the window that had been kissed with February’s frost, but the gloomy fog did nothing to cool your temper. 
Lately, Alastor had been given you such mixed signals, not to mention the frothing volcano of overwhelming emotions that felt as if they would erupt any second. One moment, you were both mere inches away from each other, sparkles rejoicing behind your eyes, and the next, Alastor had pulled – though he never pushed you – away from you with a never-faltering grin, ready to drag you along with whatever antics he had next in store for you as if nothing had ever happened.
He was an overwhelming, unpredictable sandstorm that swept you off your feet and tugged at your heartstrings, somehow knowing how to push all the right buttons. 
A rumbling gray cloud formed above you as you crossed your arms in your seat, wondering where you had gone wrong with him. Perhaps he simply didn’t want a relationship with you? Possibly, but he wasn’t the kind of man to string a poor girl like you along with all of these confusing messages, whether they be a secretive, flirtatious wink in your direction, or the sensation of soft, caramel brown hands wrapped around your wrists as he taught you to play piano from behind, tender instructions brushing against your ears like devoted prayers. 
You groaned and held your head in your hands, smoothing out your scrunched brow and entangling frustrated fingers into your hair.
What in the world could you possibly have been missing? Was he too afraid to confess himself? Or were you just reading him wrong? 
“We’re finished, darling!” Alastor’s voice rang out like a siren, and you instantly perked up at its dulcet tone. You mentally berated yourself for being so dependent on the man, but your heart seemed to answer for your head, these days.
“Oh? Are we heading home, now?” 
Alastor entered the waiting room with a raised eyebrow, peeking inside to find where your voice was coming from and visibly relaxed once he spotted you laying lazily upon the lush sofa chair, nearly swallowed up in the enormous cushions. 
“Not to worry, my dear,” Alastor fully stepped into the waiting room, with Rosie in tow. She stepped back a few ways away from you with scrutinizing eyes, and a finger rubbing against her chin while she observed you and Alastor. “This was only a detour to our main event, this afternoon! I wouldn’t want you to miss out upon the surprise, after all!” 
Well, he seems chipper.  
You raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought that this was the surprise...?” 
“Oho, no, no! No, as much as I enjoy dear Rosie’s company,” he side-glanced the store owner from where she stood with a knowing simper stretching her black-lined lips and a raised eyebrow, as if to say, ‘Go on.’ 
“This meeting was merely to discuss business. Had it been simply pleasantry, I wouldn’t have regretfully forced you to wait for me for so long,” Alastor took your hand within his, a silent apology dancing behind his deep, dark eyes. Rosie nodded with approval behind him, making your eyebrows raise even further, to the point of nearly rising off your forehead. What were those two talking about?
Schemers, the both of them. 
“It’s nothing to worry about, Al’... Just, let me know next time that you’re gonna be long, alright?” You smiled softly up at him; every doubt you had evaporating in an instant the moment you saw his genuine expression. 
Though your suspicions had remained unsatiated from the glances he and Rosie shared.
“I suppose I can help that, but I do love keeping you on your toes,” your annoyed scowl made him chuckle lightheartedly. “Though I shall try, darling, since I most definitely want to keep mine!” 
“Oh, you two are just too sweet!” Rosie looked as if she were about to wipe a tear from her eyes, while Alastor’s smile just ever so slightly tightened as she suddenly stepped towards you with an outstretched hand.
“I’m afraid I haven’t formally introduced myself! You may have guessed, but the name’s Rosie, my dear.” She gazed down at you, a perfect white smile gleaming in the warm light of the antique lamps as you shook her hand, craning your neck so you could properly look her in the eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you. Again, I suppose,” her smile doubled in size as she instantly whisked you away from Alastor, much to his dismay. When he allowed Rosie to get near you for the sake of your relationship, he didn’t mean she could intervene entirely! 
Though, the woman had her mysterious ways, he supposed. But this was a bit much, even for her! 
“My goodness! I can’t believe that Al’s been hiding you away from me for so long! Now, dear, tell me all about yourself,” Rosie sat you down in front of a table beside a large glass window, though the mannequins donning such expertly crafted dresses and attire had blocked the small tea-table from an outside view.
Alastor could only watch on with brewing envy as she talked your ears off, and how you cast an unsure glance back at him for just a moment, before answering her questions with a sudden surge of shyness in the light of her exuberant personality. 
“So, how’s New Orleans treatin’ ya’? I sure do hope Alastor’s been hospitable!” Rosie chirped, her exuberance infecting you as you nodded up at her. 
“O-Oh, yes, he's quite good company. I do hope I've been just as pleasant,” The seamstress’s smile widened, and she winked over to her friend, who's already twitching grimace of a smile tightened even further in response. 
“I’m quite certain you are! We’ve been friends for a while, you know,” Rosie grinned cheekily, like a mother sharing her son's baby pictures to a close friend of his. “And in all my years, I must say, that I haven’t seen him been so close to a lady like he has been with you!” 
You perked up, your eyes wide and instantly attentive to what she had said, which Rosie picked up on in an instant, sniffing out your immediate interest in Alastor like a bloodhound. 
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, now, Alastor is quite the chivalrous one towards young ladies such as yourself,” Rosie glanced over at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “but I’ve been friends with him long enough to know when he’s truly taken with another, and that doesn’t happen often~!” 
“...Really?” You glanced over at him, before realizing he was staring directly at the both of you. You then noticed how far away from him Rosie had pushed you, but you paid no mind as her captivating presence pulled you in for a loop once again. 
“So, have you been seein’ anyone recently? Anyone that little chocolate in your pocket could be meant for?”  
“Well...” You made the mistake of glancing sideways towards the eavesdropping radio host, and the mirth that sparked within Rosie’s eyes warned Alastor of you being sucked into her diabolical scheming. 
Now, the seamstress truly adored Alastor, as he’d been quite the friend to her all of those years, spiffing and entertaining in every way, being a renowned radio host. 
...But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that he was, without a doubt, the daftest man she’d ever met when it came to romancing.
And God forbid that you use innuendos or flirtatious remarks around him. It was quite possibly the worst case she’d ever seen, really.
And so, a little interference from a dear friend wouldn’t hurt him.
Well, maybe his ego.  
But he had plenty of that to spare, did he not? 
Though, even Rosie knew she was getting quite carried away, as she stole more of your attention and time away from Alastor. 
What could she say? The woman was taking quite a liking to you. 
I’ll have to tell Alastor to bring this one around more... 
You and Rosie began gossiping like a pair of teenage girls over the disgruntled radio host like he wasn’t standing in the corner, hearing – or trying to hear – every word you spoke. 
His right eye twitched as your giggling filled the emporium, and he strode over to insert himself into every conversation that seemed to concern him. Alastor had even startled you a few times when you were talking about him with Hugo, seeming to materialize out of thin air whenever he was a topic of conversation. 
Especially when you were involved. 
“Just be careful, now,” Rosie caught sight of Alastor heading towards you, and her soft, all-knowing grin widened. “He’s always been quite averse to sharing!” 
“Oh, tell me about it,” you sighed, “Though, I know he’s only protecting me. I must say, I never thought I’d enjoy such attentions,” the older woman put a hand to her lips with an excited grin, the both of you being ignorantly unaware of how Alastor loomed over you until he placed his hands promptly on your shoulders. 
You jumped with a slight squeak and looked up at him, your cheeks burning as Alastor smiled down at you, hopefully oblivious to what you had been foolishly spilling your heart out to Rosie about. “And just whose ‘attentions’ do you seem to be so taken with, darling?” 
Uh... 
“Oh, the Doll was only telling me about your famous cooking! No need to get so riled up,” Rosie spoke up for you, to your immense relief. With a creeping sense of dread, you realized how much you had let on to her. 
But something in Rosie’s twinkling, sympathetic gaze that shifted towards you made you relax, and you beamed hopefully up at him. “I was thinking you could teach me your mother’s recipe, sometime! I was kind of just following the instructions, and I'd like to learn from the chef himself!”  
Alastor's once tightened smile that was shadowed by a grimace softened significantly at your words. “I believe you’re already quite the master at it yourself, my dear~.”
He fondly recalled the thick, warm consistency of the broth you had made, and the perfect blend of aromatic spices that melted and fizzled upon his tongue, bringing waves of nostalgia and reminiscing that rocked him back and forth. 
It was the night that it felt like he was seeing you through opened eyes. 
Had you always been so beautiful? 
“Alastor? Have we lost ya'?” Rosie elbowed him slightly, and with a shake of his head, he snapped out of his trance, realizing he had been staring into your eyes for just a bit too long. 
“You’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack, at this rate,” she teased with a soft smile. Oh, lord, you two would be a piece of work. But she was sure that her hard work would be worth it. 
Plus, a sweet, darling Doll like you deserved someone as gracious and gentlemanly as Alastor; there were too many brutes in this world, and he was certainly not one of them.
And her old friend had been alone within his twisted mind for far too long.
“Alright, you two get on movin’, now,” Rosie abruptly began steering you towards the front door, a bit of a pep in her step as Alastor tread behind you, while she chatted your ears off. 
“Oh- well, we don’t have to go now, do we?” a pit of disappointment burrowed in your stomach. You liked the eccentric seamstress quite an awful lot, and her contagious, extroverted energy infected you with the same amount of enthusiasm. 
“Aw, don’t stick around just for me, now. I’ll do just fine, I promise!” She glanced at Alastor with a twinkle in her eyes. “But I wouldn’t mind if you brought her along for more trips to the boutique, not at all!” 
"I suppose I'll take it into consideration," Alastor chose to be the calm one for the both of you as you nodded your head enthusiastically.
"We'll definitely be coming back!" Rosie chuckled and led you both into the waiting room.
“I do hope you’ll protect her, Alastor, what with that slasher running around,” she dramatically cupped her own pale cheeks, and the radio host caught onto her hint, squeezing your shoulder and narrowing his eyes at the store owner.
Oh, Alastor wasn’t a brute, certainly not. But if he wasn’t the most dangerous man in New Orleans, then some sort of eldritch God must’ve been stalking the woodlands. Though, you were too focused on what she had said to catch the pointed glances that they shared. 
“Oh, I’m perfectly safe with Al’, here!” You sounded confident enough, though Alastor still felt your slightly trembling grip on his coat sleeve. A small smile made its way to his face as he tugged you into him for emphasis. 
“She’ll be safe in my company, don’t you worry about her, now!” A small bloom of pride welled up in his chest as he preened at the fact that he would be indeed keeping you safe, by ridding these streets of the pesky little insects that dared cross into his territory. 
“Careful, now. Don’t get too excited to swoop in and rescue your little damsel in distress,” Rosie grinned toothily after the both of you, adoring the proximity between you and Alastor as if she were watching the romantic development of a soap opera.
“I’m afraid we must be going, now. A pleasure as always, Rosie,” he waved a fluttering hand in the air in farewell as he pushed you towards the door, and you turned back to Rosie and waved with a small smile that grew wider as she waved back.
“I hope to see you troublemakers again soon~! Take care, Alastor.” 
He nodded and opened the door for you, the bell jingling softly as you stepped outside and headed for the car. As you walked across the rocky pavement, you inhaled the seasonal scent of fresh evergreen and sunlight, enjoying the sight of the cleared sky until you slipped into the warmth of Alastor's car.
As you buckle your seatbelt, the rays of the sun warmed you in your seat, and much to Alastor's disappointment, you seemed to be content without his jacket.
“So, where are you taking me now, mister? What kind of surprise do have in store for me?" You leaned against the dash, admiring the soft glow of sunlight that bounced against his caramel brown skin, illuminating his eyes and weaving through his dark hair.
“The entire point of a surprise is not to spoil it for the end, darling~,” Alastor hummed as he turned the keys in the slot, and the car rumbled to life.
The once heavy fog that hung over the city of New Orleans had dispersed, as if your joyful mood had caused the Sun to break through the clouds, leaving the city bathed in delicious apricity.
Alastor, ever the biased man when it came to you, would've preached your powers over the weather for that one.
You reached over for the radio and turned the little knobs a few times, smiling as a familiar song began to play, the speakers crackling with soft static.
"Midnight, the stars and you..."
Humming along, you bobbed your head as you took a peek out of the window, watching as the blur of large brick buildings and stores slowly faded into the natural lushness of the countryside, forest and woodland galore surrounding the road as Alastor drove uphill.
"Midnight, and a rendezvous~..."
As the murky afternoon made way for a vibrant, vermillion-tinted sunset, the headlights of the car illuminated the rocky dirt path ahead as the trees overheard blocked out the sunlight.
"Your eyes held a message tender, saying "I surrender all my love to you..."
Soon, the vehicle was pulled to a stop, right in front of a pathway that led uphill, supposedly to a cliff, by the looks of it.
"Midnight brought us sweet romance, I know my whole life through..."
“Where have you taken me, now?” You narrowed your playful gaze at the radio host, and he simply chuckled and reached over to brush a stray hair from your cheek. 
"I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do...
“You’ll see, my dear.”
"Midnight, the stars and you." 
Damp grass crunched beneath the soles of your black Mary Janes as you slid out of your car seat. The scent of misty dewdrop overwhelmed your senses, and as you inhaled the crisp winter air, you shivered off your pent-up nerves. 
The trunk of the car slammed, and Alastor emerged from behind it with his hands clasped behind his back. You narrowed your suspicious gaze at him as you stood behind the wooden fence overlooking the edge of the cliff.
“And just what do you have there, Al’?” 
“Can’t get anything past your eyes, can I, darling~? Oh well, if you must know,” with a gentle simper, he brought his hand to your jaw. 
“It has something to do with this,” a blush crept up your cheeks and burned against the tips of your ears as he murmured breathily against your cheek and turned your chin towards the edge of the cliff.
The twinkling lights of New Orleans mimicked the showing stars above as they danced merrily in the sea of a deep violet dripping into an alluring crimson, and finally fading into the radiant glow of the sun as it slowly dipped beneath the earth.
“It’s... Oh, God, Al’, it’s so beautiful...”  
As the last dying breaths of daylight fell beneath the horizon, you flickered your gaze to Alastor, memorizing every inch of his face, every freckle and pore in the rare proximity that you had with him in this moment. 
Your eyes fell to his lips, a soft tug aching at your heart, begging you to move closer, and oh, how you couldn’t have known how he was fighting that very same urge now. His eyes watched the sunset for a moment more, before falling to you. 
Radiant couldn’t even begin to describe you. 
Slowly, his hand edged along the fence, the unfamiliar gesture so hilariously foreign it made your eyes widen in surprise. 
You pretended not to notice it as your fingertips teased along the wooden gate towards his, and his inched closer in return, warm, slender fingers nearly brushing up against your own. 
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” 
“Utterly,” you finally murmured, the air nearly pulled out of your lungs at the sound of his voice. It sounded so... pure, so genuinely like Alastor in his relaxed state, his accent a foreign, suave undertone to his words, carried upon a smooth tune that one could only catch when he sang, or when you heard him like this. 
And only you could ever hear Alastor like this. 
“Thank you for showing me this... It’s amazing,” you whispered, flickering your awestruck gaze from him to the fading light of the impending night sky.
Honestly, the sunset wasn’t even the highlight. You just wanted an excuse to trail your gaze along the glowing features of the man that haunted your dreams and managed to chase away your nightmares. 
It was Alastor. God, it always had to be Alastor, didn’t it?
“Oh, the night’s just begun, my dear!” A gush of wind tousled your air as you were twirled from your place beside him, eliciting a delighted giggle from you as you landed firmly upon your feet, or rather, Alastor's tight grip wouldn't allow you to fall.
"I have just a few more tricks up my sleeve. Now, close your eyes."
You blinked dumbly, and he chuckled as he released you.
"Oh, alright. I suppose I'll indulge your whims, just this once," you turned on your heel and covered your eyes, only able to hear the rustling of cloth, the clink of a glass, the spark of a match being struck, and finally, Alastor calling out to you.
"Open your eyes, darling~."
Slowly, you turned around, opening your eyes to the sight of him kneeling upon a plaid patterned blanket laid out upon the grass, holding two glasses and a bottle of red wine in his hands.
You placed your hands to your lips with a soft gasp as candlelight flickered softly against the blanket, protected by a tall, cylinder-shaped glass case.
"My God... Rosie was right," you muttered, chuckling softly as you shook your head and sat yourself down beside him. His content, close-lipped smile drew you in like a moth to a flame, seeking more of his warmth, even if it meant being burned.
"You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days," you took a glass, watching his attentive gaze as he carefully poured yourself and him a cup of wine.
The tantalizing liquid swished in the glass, catching the flickering candlelight in glimpses.
"Then I suppose an antidote is in order," Alastor lifted his half-lidded gaze to you, clinking the glasses together in a silent toast.
. . .
The rest of the evening felt like a beautiful, distant dream, doused in bubbling laughter and warm liquid happiness, as you two remained blissfully unaware of the candle's slow descent of melting into a pile of cooled wax. 
Its dying light flickered softly, casting shadows onto you as rested your head against Alastor's slender chest. The man was holding you so tenderly that you almost didn't recognize it was he who pulled you into his arms. 
Luckily for you, Alastor could hold his alcohol better than anyone you’d met, and so, within the content clarity of laying with you in his arms, he pulled you flush against his frame and reveled in the intimacy that wouldn’t come with your remembrance of anything that happened that night. 
He settled onto the blanket, snuggling you close and enjoying your flush body’s warmth, teasing his hands along your sides while inhaling the scent of your shampoo coupled with the dewy midnight air. 
"Hey, Allie...?" 
Alastor blinked at the nickname, chuckling softly as he replied, “Yes, my dear?” 
"I don't know if I like you as a friend..." 
"Oh? Well, it ails me to hear that, darling," he pretended to pout softly down at you while your squinted in frustration.
"Nooo... I just," you huffed, resting further into his chest as he held you, reveling in how perfect you fit into his grasp.
Ah, a bit of a clingy drunk, are we? 
As long as you were clinging to him, then Alastor didn't mind. 
"I... don't think I can like you... as just a friend." 
"Oh?" His eyes flickered from the small back of your neck to your eyes as you stared up at him, imploring for him to understand.
"I think... I think I really like you..." you mumbled softly against Alastor's chest, a soft blush tickling your cheeks as you pressed yourself further against him.
“Many people do.” 
"Hm... Not like I do..."
Alastor's breath hitched in his throat. Now, just what could that mean? Did you like him more than just as a friend? That perhaps you liked him more than you even let on? Maybe, just maybe, could it mean that you loved him?
But Alastor knew better than to trust the drunken words of his intoxicated darling. Besides, it was getting late, and he'd hate to keep you out in the cold any longer. Plus, you and Rosie would've let the radio host have it if he purposefully left you out there simply to get more answers out of you.
"Hey, where are we going?" Alastor stood you up, raising an eyebrow at the slight sway in your stance as you nearly stumbled, and had it not been for his steadying grip, you would have eaten a mouthful of dirt.
"Ah-ah-ah! Steady, now, I can't have you falling all over me, can I~?" You rolled your eyes half-heartedly.
*Hiccup* "Yeah, yeah... I'll be fine, Al'," you muttered, though you put up no fight as Alastor swept you into his arms into a bridal carry.
"Heh... Y'know, Al', have I ever told you that you kinda look like a deer?" You reached up to play with the frays of his coat as he carried you back to the car.
"Hm... No, I don't believe anyone's told me that," he replied hesitantly, his lips thinning slightly at the observation. Alastor didn't exactly love his likeness being compared to prey.
"Well, you do," you smiled and reached up to fluff out his hair, which he reluctantly allowed for now.
"And what makes you say that, my dear?"
"Your eyes. They're so... soft and round. Like your hair," you continued to tangle your hands into his hair, sighing softly as you leaned against him with a dreamy smile, completely lost to the affect you had on the poor man who was restraining from just squishing and kissing your cute little face-
Alastor's grip had shifted slightly to open the car door and he laid you down upon the car seat with a head pat and a tender, close-lipped smile. "Looks can be deceiving, my dear. Remember that."
You weren't so sure about that. The radio host had been nothing but kind and generous to you, and this warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed in your chest, starting from your heart and reaching to your feet definitely wasn't caused by the alcohol.
"Wait," your hand snatched his wrist before he could pull away from you, and with a kind, patient gaze, Alastor raised an eyebrow down at you.
"Yes, darling?" 
"Could I..." your eyes flickered to Alastor's jacket, and it took a few moments for him to realize what you were implying. With a chuckle, and a steady stream of blush - not just from your copious alcohol intake - across your cheeks, he slipped off his jacket and tucked you into it. 
His gaze grew tender as he observed how comfortable, how perfect you looked all snuggled up in his clothes. Hidden away from the world and tucked into his car. 
Perhaps these little detours should become more frequent... 
"Now, sit tight, my dear, we'll be home in no time," his soft whisper made you shiver in your seat as the car rumbled to life, and the beginning chimes of a soft jazz number began to sooth you to sleep. 
Around when you and Alastor were halfway back home, you finally nodded off, completely unaware of how the radio host’s gaze shifted to you more than once, completely willing to crash the car if it meant simply watching you while you slept. 
He sighed softly, humming along to the music as his eyes kept to the road for the final stretch of the ride. How could something so... personal to him bloom from an unconventional friendship like this? 
Love is unconventional, Rosie’s voice chirped back to him in his head, and he rolled his eyes at his imaginary conversation with the seamstress. 
Oh, well. All would be clear in due time, Alastor supposed. He would have the rest of his life with you, wouldn’t he? That should surely be enough to navigate these baffling urges to hold you and keep you, bury his nose in your hair, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nape of your neck as he dig his claws into your hips and- 
Ⱥղժ ահąէ ìƒ ʂհҽ ƒìղժʂ օմէ ąҍօմէ էհìղҽ մղʂąѵօɾվ օççմքąէìօղ? Ͳհҽ օղҽ էհąէ էąҟҽʂ քӀąçҽ ҍąçҟʂէąցҽ...? The guttural rumble of the Loa questioned sharply, but Alastor stifled any seeping doubt as his fists clenched the steering wheel.
He had no time for this. Alastor only wanted to be home with you, tuck you into bed, and do his usual survey of your room, taking any loose articles of clothing or towels, keeping them for his own to inhale and put his wanting lips to until your scent faded from the cloth. 
It had become a little hobby of his, simply to satisfy his spiraling yearning for your warmth in his arms.
It couldn't replace you, but it'd have to do.
Alastor's eyes flickered to you one last time as the car slowed in front of the manor, and despite his inner judgment, he carefully reached over and cupped your cheek with his hand, and all his self-deprecation was instantly silenced.
The rest of the world could wait, for now.
He had his precious Doe to put to bed, after all.
. . .
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Okay, okay, I know I've been gone for a HOT minute but I HAVE AN EXPLANATION.
Writing is hard. I am a perfectionist. And I'm about to collaspse.
But I swear it'll all be worth it, when I hit ya'll with the next chapter ;) some of ya'll know what its about to be about.
Until next time~!
. . .
𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts
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taraprince · 9 months
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fumes <3
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warnings: i accidentally made this smut oops
summary: you and snape enjoy quality time together, but what events will lead after you awake your usual slumber?
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the sound of the warm, crackling fire bouncing off the sensitive dungeon walls lulled you to sleep in the soft armchair you had claimed in the far corner of the potion masters study. often nights would end up like this, you dozing off in his quarters while he grades papers or mends his shop. not that either of you minded, in fact, it happened often enough it almost seemed like a routine between the two of you. something about having each others silent company gave you both just the boost you needed to go about your daily tasks, dealing with insufferable students.
severus meddled with some ingredients on his desk, watching you out of the corner of his eye. he couldn’t quite explain the feeling he felt when he looked at you. it wasn’t anger, no.. surely not. maybe happiness?? perhaps, in a way. nevertheless, he enjoyed always having the thought in the back of his mind that you were there and you cared. not just for anybody, but for him.
you begin to stir awake slowly as a curious aroma fills the dungeon. severus immediately notices your body twitching and becoming aware of your surroundings. your face contorts uncomfortably as you wriggle around in the small cushioned armchair, eventually giving up on comfort. you rub your eyes as you stand up and look around curiously, making your way to snapes desk. your face contorts again, only this time in disgust as the scent becomes more prominent the closer you get to him.
“sev, what’re you making that smells this awful?” you rub your temples as a small migraine begins to form.
“oh actually im making amortentia for tomorrows lesson.” his face drops and his eyes are filled with sorrow.
“oh” you say blankly.
the end
(JK LMFAO that just popped into my head when writing OKAY ANYWAY)
“i’m just cutting up some ingredients for tomorrows lesson, i apologize for waking you,” he looks up at you from his desk and gives a weak smile, his face was almost sad looking, but you knew he was trying to be sympathetic.
you smiled back, coming around his desk until you were directly behind his chair. “no worries, i was just wondering was all,” curiosity suddenly pulses through your veins, becoming rapidly more intrigued by the man in front of you.
“sev?”
he hummed softly in response, his heart stopping in his chest as he realizes how close you are to him.
“when will you be finished? i have something i want to ask you.” you toy with the sides of his chair, kneeling down slightly to rest your chin on his head.
he blinks erratically, his brain stopping for a moment. his anxiety almost bubbles out of him as he tries to maintain a stoic expression. “i have a few more to chop up, but i’m sure they can wait. what is it you have to ask me, ms y/l/n?” he swivels his chair to face you.
you inhale sharply, pondering your next move. you inch ever closer to him, practically sitting on his lap. “are you a virgin, severus?” it came out as nearly a whisper, but you can tell he heard you by the way his sharp features contorted, and his pale skin burned pink.
he blinks slowly, gathering his thoughts and emotions. his face quickly returns to looking unbothered before whispering back, “curious, are we ms y/l/n?” it had come out more cocky than he intended, but the way your face mirror his shocked expression made him decide it was worth it.
the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you both felt it. no more words were spoken for another few seconds.
“i would-“ you began, but he had cut you off, grabbing the back of your head and smashing your lips together.
though in shock, you quickly gathered a rhythm. he kissed you passionately, hungrily, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment all night he was lmfao. you were now straddling him on his desk chair, slightly bucking your hips instinctively against his. this earned a low growl from him, which you swallowed with your own tiny whimpers.
seemingly hours pass before you separate for air, only connected by a single strand of saliva. you just gaze into each other eyes for a moment, enjoying each others intimate presence. his dark eyes move down to examine your body, seeming to just take in the situation at hand. he begins to breathe heavily, nervous. you rest your hands on his chest and give him a comforting look, reassuring him that everything is fine.
“we don’t have to-“
“no,” he cuts you off quickly, tensing up slightly as his hands gripping your waist firmly. he relaxes and his grip loosens a little. “i want to.”
you smile at one another again, only this time with a different intent. he snakes his hands around your waist as he stands up, making sure you don’t tumble to the ground. as your both standing you share another brief moment of intimacy as he slowly caresses your body, moving in such a way that one might think this was the last time you’d get to see one another.
you share another kiss, only this one more deep and lustful. his hands move up from your body and tangle themselves in your hair, pushing your head against his. your hands roam around his chest, beginning to unbutton his many layered cloak. he pulls back abruptly, grabbing your hands with one of his large ones.
all he does is cock his head to the side for a brief moment, giving you a daring look before he swiftly turns you around, bending you over his desk (after waving away his ingredients of course). he rests his body atop yours, his hot breathe intimidating your sensitive ear lobe. he bites down slightly, causing you to let out a small whimper.
“we really musn’t touch things without permission, ms y/l/n..” the words come out slurred and full of lust as he growls in your ear. he nibbles again before kissing down your shoulder, biting down and licking the mark before moving lower to your mid back.
he raises his body up, still holding your hips against his as he grinds slightly. you feel his large bulge prod and tease you through his thick trousers, causing you to become impossibly more wet at the feeling.
“severus, please… i’m so wet” you whined and begged, trying to move your hands down to help him undress since he seemed to be taking his time, but one of his large hands was still caging your wrists in place above your head, preventing any movement.
it took everything in him to keep his composure, to make sure he didn’t just fuck you senseless within the second you had moaned his name. he sharply inhaled as he inspected your cunt through your panties, indeed very wet.
he tutted slowly, using a spell to keep your hands binded in place as he moved both of his down to slowly remove your panties. “all this and i haven’t even touched you yet, hm? your such a dirty girl, ms y/l/n.”
his velvety voice alone could’ve made you cum on the spot, as well as the feeling of your panties being dragged agonizingly slowly down your legs, finally dropping to the floor. he folds your skirt up all the way, presenting yourself completely at his disposure.
you moan loudly as you feel an unexpected heat on your inner thigh. he licked and teased as he bit love bites into your thighs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. finally, after ages of teasing, he licked a bold stripe along your soaking pussy. he sucked and licked your clit as his fingers fondled your quivering entrance. he pushes one, two, three fingers in and begins pumping at a steady pace while continuing his oral work, making sure to collect all your juices.
he continued to eat you out like a starved man until you begged and whined for him to let you release. he took your poor clit between his teeth and sucked, flicking his tongue quickly over the sensitive bud. “cum for me, darling. coat my face with your cum.”
you lose yourself to his words, orgasming strongly all over his face and fingers. he pulled his digits out of your cunt and you heard him suck on them in his mouth, pulling them out with a pop.
he wiped your glistening juices off of his chin before flipping you around to face him, eyeing you dangerously. he sucked and kissed your collarbone, leaving traces of himself all along your body.
before you could go any further, a loud knock came from the dungeon entrance. both of you tensed, quickly turning to face the door. severus looked down at you hesitantly before standing upright, adjusting his attire and combing his hair with his fingers.
“who is it?” his tone was obviously annoyed, more annoyed than usual. the person on the other side did not reply right away, probably intimidated by his booming voice at such an hour like this.
“it is me sir, harry.” the voice was weary, nervous for what snape would say next.
he grumbled, clearly agitated as he made his way to the door muttering “what could he possibly need during this hour.” he opened the door and went out, making sure to not let potter see you still spread on his desk, unable to move because of the binding charms set.
you hear him taking 10 points from gryffendor, making you giggle softly at his mood swings. not much time had passed before he finally came back in, looking more annoyed than when he left. he comes back to his desk, examining you one last time before removing the charms on your body, sighing evidently.
“i’m sorry, my love. we can continue this another night, perhaps tomorrow when i’ll be able to fully pleasure you most.” he seems embarrassed as you get dressed again, looking down in shame.
once you’re finished, you hold his face in your hands, kissing him softly. “don’t worry, severus. i wouldn’t want you to feel as if you have to force yourself upon this. whenever you’re ready, i’ll be waiting for you.” you offer him a small smile, content with how he seems to cheer up slightly at the reassurance.
he kisses you softly one last time before picking you up bridal style, escorting you both to his sleeping chambers. you both cuddle up to each other, just enjoying each others simple presence yet again as your mind aimlessly wanders, lulling you back into your deep sleep.
severus smiles to himself before kissing the top of your head softly and tightening his grip slightly. he rests his head atop yours, allowing his mind to wander until he too is lulled to sleep.
and there you both lay, enjoying the feeling of each other embrace until it is time to awake again, beginning a new day filled with stress and teaching and children. but at least you have each other to look forward too.
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a/n: me after avoiding writing real smut ✌️✌️✌️ SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2???? i’m not very confident in my smut writing abilities which is why i cut it off, but if you wanna see it i’ll write it since i really should utilize my sudden motivation. (this isn’t really proofread so if it’s bad or if there’s any mistakes my apologies) also help the title is so stupid, but i made the title before writing it cus i thought it was cute so just go with it.
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omiiverse · 8 months
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three's a crowd - ominis x (f) reader x sebastian cw - toxic relationship dynamic, manipulation, slight dubcon, angst, smut, cunnilingus, timeskip, unedited
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“This isn’t a good idea.” Natsai said for what seemed like the millionth time. 
“Loosen up, will you?” Garreth leads the two of you down towards the dungeons. It was a rare occasion for you to be visiting the lower level of Hogwarts but of course, the ever thrill seeking Weasley insisted on sneaking into the Slytherin house end-of-year-party. 
“We’ll be caught for sure.” The worried Gryffindor gives you a look as if she wants you to say something.
“Nattie,” Once the three of you make it to the bottom of the stairs, Garreth turns around looking exasperated. He grabs her by the shoulders giving her a slow shake. “Your mum won’t find out. N.E.W.T.s are over and it’s our last year here. Live a little, yeah?”
Despite his attempt to reassure your friend, she still looks doubtful. 
“How are we even going to get in?” She crosses her arms defiantly. Natsai wasn’t the type to break the rules if there wasn’t a justifiable reason, especially if it was to sneak into an unauthorized common room party.
“I have my ways.” Garreth gives a cheeky grin. 
And as if on cue, Imelda Reyes pops around the corner. It’s the first time you’ve seen her outside of her quidditch gear – you’ve become accustomed to watching her from the stands of the quidditch pitch. 
“Took you long enough.” There’s a hint of annoyance in her voice as she approaches. She has her hair down from her everyday tight ponytail looking unusually casual.
“No need to get your knickers in a twist, Reyes. We're just in time, yeah?” Garreth throws a surprisingly friendly arm around Imelda, to which her face immediately twists into a sour look of disapproval.
She scoffs before shrugging his arm off in annoyance. It didn’t look like the feelings of affection were reciprocated. 
“Don’t get the wrong idea, Weasley.” She rolls her eyes, looking almost disgusted. “I’m just paying back what I owe – we aren’t friends.”
“Ouch.” Garreth grips the collar of his shirt, a big grin spreads across his face, making his attempts to feign dejection obvious. “And for a second, I thought you actually liked me.”
“As if.” Imelda turns around and begins to walk in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. The ginger haired young man turns around. Grinning triumphantly, he takes a dramatic bow before trailing behind Imelda.
You and Natsai look at each other awkwardly, feeling completely out of place. The two of you weren’t even invited – and yet Garreth insisted that the two of you tag along. 
“Sorry.” Natsai whispers as the two of you follow Garreth and the Slytherin quidditch captain deeper into the dungeons of the castle. 
“I…It’ll be fine.” You say quickly, trying to change the subject.
“We can leave. Just say the word and I’ll let Garreth know.”
“I don’t want to do that.” You chew on your lip, a nervous habit of yours. “We’re already here anyways.” 
“You’re not obligated to do anything, you know.” Natsai presses in a hushed tone. She was always a little extra protective of you since you arrived at Hogwarts all those two years ago. The Matabeleland native grabs you gently by the arm, stopping you in your tracks. “If you’re uncomfortable – any moment at all, once we get in there –”
“I’ll be fine Nattie,” You interject, doing your best to hide your nerves.
“You’ll tell me.” She finishes, looking absolutely serious, “And we’ll leave.”
She was the only one who knew of the short lived relationship between you and Sebastian.
“I’ll be fine.” You repeat yourself; this time to reassure yourself rather than your friend.
The last time you saw Sebastian was when he decided to leave Hogwarts; the death of his uncle, too painful for him to bear. His withdrawal from school was sudden; Abruptly leaving you with nothing but a note briefly explaining that he couldn’t stay. Don’t wait for me, you recall the last haunting words he signed his letter off with. 
At first you were angry. Angry at Sebastian for leaving without a proper goodbye. Angry at Ranrock for the many years of pain inflicted on the Sallow family. But most of all, angry at yourself for allowing yourself to fall in love in the first place. But once the anger subsided, all that was left was numbing emptiness – You had become skilled at the art of putting on a fake smile and pretending that everything was okay. 
The only ones you hadn’t fooled were Natsai…And Ominis. They saw right through your facade and in turn, were the ones to pull you from your self inflicted purgatory. Ominis was there for you immediately. He was just as upset and most likely the only one who understood how you felt — feeling abandoned by his closest friend. 
two years prior
“He has always been reckless.” Ominis says softly, watching the last of the sun disappear beyond the horizon. The two of you had snuck up to the Astronomy Tower after dinner, enjoying the company of each other. 
You smile at what he says. These days, Ominis was the only person who could manage to elicit any emotion other than sadness from you. 
“You don’t say.”
He chuckles dryly, seemingly watching his feet dangle off the ledge, another silence falling between the two of you once more.
It doesn’t seem like much time has passed until the darkness of night envelops the tower. You turn slightly, leaning on the railing to look at your friend, the twinkling light of the moon and stars illuminating his handsome face. He seems to be in deep thought; His expression difficult to read.
“I…” He croaks, his voice seemingly shakes with each word, his warm breath fogging as it hits the cold air. “I’m leaving Hogwarts.”
Your eyes flutter as you turn to stare at the stars – their beautiful twinkles blurring as your eyes begin to pool with tears. This wasn’t what you wanted to hear. But you knew it was inevitable – his father had been writing to him for months, each letter more harrowing than the last. It was only a matter of time until his family summoned their son home. 
“I-...” Your voice cracks, as a few tears escape. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting Ominis to hear you break. “When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow.” he sounds just as defeated. “I’ve held them off for so long – they won’t allow me to stay here any longer.”
You sit in silence, not knowing what to say. No matter how much you hated the idea – of Ominis returning to that cold and awful house; Of having to say goodbye to another close friend; Of being completely and utterly alone. Those thoughts terrified you. 
“I…I promise to write.” Ominis seems to piece his words together carefully, as if he is scared of saying the wrong things.
“You–” You feel a sharp pang in your chest as you gasp, trying to chase away your imminent cry with a breath of air. “You promise?”
“Little dove,” You hear the break in Ominis’s voice. He pulls you in close, allowing you to release your hiccuped breaths into his shoulder. “Please don’t cry – I…I don’t want to leave you. Not like this.”
“I can’t help it.” You gasp, feeling your chest tighten as you do your best to hold back your sobs. “I can’t lose you too.”
He cups your face gently, wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He opens his mouth before quickly closing it again, clearly at a loss for words. He closes his eyes as if the moment itself was breaking him in two; Then ever so slowly, leaning forward so that his forehead rests against yours. 
“I will be back.” His voice is hoarse yet barely above a whisper. “I promise, little dove.”
-
After a while, you stopped receiving letters from Ominis. Sometimes you wondered if he forgot you…or perhaps even stopped caring. It was true that you were hurt but you refused to wallow in sadness. It just wasn’t like you. 
It took a while but it wasn’t long before you were actively participating in your classes again; Regaining a sense of eagerness and passion for learning. And Natsai – she became your rock. She was there for you when you needed someone the most; Extended her hand to you when nobody else would and pulled you from that dark place. 
Three years passed; Seasons came and gone – and before you knew it, Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt had resorted to becoming a distant memory. 
That is, until this year. 
As it turned out, Ominis kept his promise; And it wasn’t long before the news of his return spread like wildfire. What you weren’t expecting, however, was for Sebastian to also return to Hogwarts this very same year.
People talked and it was almost impossible for you to ignore it. Ominis Gaunt and his loyal, obedient dog, Sebastian Sallow; Both returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? It was the hottest piece of gossip in Year 7. 
While the rest of the students in your year were eager to welcome the infamous duo, it was difficult for you to mask your broken heart. It wasn’t long before Natsai was able to put the pieces together – she was a bright witch afterall. Attending this party almost guaranteed that you’d run into either one or both of the two men. Regardless of the years that passed and the little time you spent with Sebastian – it didn’t make you love him any less. However with Ominis also returning, it also left you feeling confused; As if he wasn’t an impossible enigma already. That fact alone made you absolutely beside yourself; Your anxiousness arousing the same feeling within Natsai. 
At the end of the hallway, Imelda comes to a stop and turns to Garreth.
“Let me make one thing clear.” She crosses her arms, her eyebrows in a frown. “I’m getting you in. That’s it. And then my debt is paid.”
“Of course.” Garreth grins.
“Alright then.” She eyes you and Natsai standing behind. “Don’t get too crazy, yeah?”
“What in the world could Imelda Reyes be in debt to Garreth Weasley for?” Natsai leans close so that only you can hear her hushed words. You shrug watching the Slytherin turn around and approach the stone wall. 
With the faint hiss, a large golden basilisk apparates, slithering along the edge of the floor before inching, and darting upward, the crest in its body movement revealing a secret doorway. As soon as it appears, you begin to hear the muffled hum of music and student chatter beyond the large copper doors.
Imelda pushes the doors in, the music from within immediately echoing off the stone walls of the outside hallway. The three of you follow her in. Instantly a few Slytherins give the three of you strange looks, Garreth, however, strolls in, making himself at home – whether he takes notice or is completely ignoring the unwelcomeness, you aren’t sure. 
The common room is filled to the brim; mostly Slytherin students but occasionally you spot a few people from other houses. The flickering, green flames of the floating candles illuminate the way as you make your way through the thrums of people. Natsai holds onto your arm tightly, making sure not to lose you in the crowd. Somewhere along the way, the two of you lose Garreth – eventually deciding to find somewhere to sit. Parties were neither one of your scenes. 
“Should I get something for us to drink?”
“Nattie asking me to drink?” You cross your arms teasingly, leaning close so that your friend could hear your voice over the music. “I think I’ve finally lost it.”
“Oh shut up,” She rolls her eyes before tugging you with her. Along the large stained glass windows, you find some unoccupied seats. A copper serpent appears from above, slithering downwards and enshrouding the both of you in a sheer curtain; An enchantment of some sorts making the small lounge area insulated from the rest of the party. And for a while, the two of you watch as people lose themselves to the muffled beat of the music.
And then, beyond the shimmery veil, your eyes fall upon him. 
“I’m going to find us some refreshments – you’ll be alright staying here to save our seats?” You hear the voice of your friend but are too stunned to look away.
“Are you listening…?” Natsai trails off when she follows your gaze. You feel her tense up next to you.
She glances at you, speaking slowly to gauge your reaction. 
“You alright?” 
“I’m fine.” You say before turning away; This seemed to become a habit - to reassure yourself rather than your concerned Gryffindor friend.
“He’s staring.” She looks on at the young man across the room, her voice filled with cold distaste. 
“Is he?” You say softly, tucking your hair behind your ear and glancing in his direction, only to find that she wasn’t lying. Across the room, Sebastian sits at the end of the conjured up bar, surrounded by a crowd of enamored fifth years – most of them girls wanting to take their chance to flirt with the infamous Sallow. 
While parts of the Sebastian from your memories still remain; The two years that have passed are prominent in how much older he looks. His once boyish features are now sharper, accentuating his clenched jaw. His hair is shorter, but the same chestnut colored curls hang low over his eyes. 
At the bar, he sits relaxed, all while exuding a sense of strong confidence — resting his head in the palm of his hand, rubbing his stubbled chin, the other fiddling with the rim of his glass, listening absentmindedly to the girl in front of him.  While he is nodding, his dark eyes continue to dart back to yours, making you feel a little too self conscious. 
“Celebratory shots are in order!” Garreth suddenly comes into view, blocking Sebastian completely, handing both of you glasses that were way too big to be considered a shot. His sudden entrance allows a rush of music to pass through the curtains. “To surviving our seventh year, yeah?”
He clinks his glass to yours, before quickly throwing the liquid back – hissing as the alcohol passes down his throat. Natsai watches with displeasure, choosing to hold her glass but not allowing any of its contents pass her lips.
Oh for Merlin’s sake. You lick your lips before taking a gulp, the burning liquid making you forget the memories, too painful to remember.
“Atta’ girl.” Garreth praises, laughing as the alcohol makes your face contort into a wince. He turns to Natsai. 
“Well if you aren’t going to drink,” He takes her glass and downs its contents for himself; Quickly grabbing her hands and pulling her up onto her feet. “Let’s dance!”
But before she can refuse, he’s already dragging her to the dance floor, leaving you all alone. 
You swallow, attempting to alleviate the dryness in your throat; The bitter taste of whisky making you purse your lips; Already feeling a light buzz from the concentrated drink. You feel apprehensive – debating whether or not you should leave. Nattie wouldn’t hold it against you. She’d understand. You take a nervous breath, the beat of your heart thundering above the sound of the music. Glancing back to the bar, you already see that Sebastian is watching you – predatory like eyes trailing down your body; His hungry gaze making you shiver. 
“It’s been a while.” 
You turn, startled by the sudden voice in your ear — taken aback, you almost  mistake the man before you for a stranger. His posture exuding a carefree confidence that was unfamiliar to you. Dressed in all black, his sleek suit accentuates long and slender limbs. The neat comb over you remember from all those years ago is no more – now looking as if he messily ran a hand through his hair. A sense of familiarity and yet an almost completely different man stands before you today.
“Ominis.” You say his name softly, his sudden appearance taking you by surprise. 
His pearl colored eyes follow the sound of your voice, before falling on you. 
“I’m glad you remember me.” He smiles softly, relief evident in his tone of voice. 
“How could I not?” You look away. He didn’t write back, your inner voice reminds you; And the sting of his rejection feels fresh now that he is here right in front of you.
“It's been years.” His voice chastises as if he is speaking to a child. 
“Yes.” Your voice comes out a little harsher than expected. The passing years didn’t make their absence hurt any less. ”You didn’t write.”
His eyes soften, hearing the evident pain in your words. You feel his weight shift towards you; And ever so slightly, cold fingers gently tipping your chin towards him – almost giving you no other option but to look at him. 
“Dove.”
You pull away before he can speak, making him raise an eyebrow. They weren’t the only ones who changed.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh?” His mouth twitches, almost as if he is amused by your sudden disobedience. Yet he stays silent, silvery serpent eyes glinting in the dim emerald light as they sweep you up and down. And almost instinctively, your body shivers as if he could truly see you. 
Ominis lets out a breathy laugh as if he is amused; The tips of his fingers ghosting across your arms as he retraces his steps to sit on the couch. He leans back into the leather, this newfound confidence drawing you in. He only beckons you once. And as if he cast a spell, you find yourself slowly walking forward until you are standing in between his spread legs. He grazes the tips of your fingers, his tickling touch sending shivers up your arm, before ever so gently, tugging you forward and onto his lap. 
You can’t hide your surprise, a yelp escaping your lips as he readjusts you on his knee. 
“Cute,” His lips pursed as if to hide his smile. 
“You’re an arse.” You shove his shoulders, attempting to get off but the hold he has on your wrists is stronger and keeps you in place.
“Ah, not much has changed.” He clicks his tongue as you helplessly struggle. 
“This mouth however,” He grips your cheeks between pinched fingers. “Could use a little discipline, no?”
“Ominis.” You warn. He ignores it – forcing you to turn your head and look in the direction of the bar. His grip doesn’t cause pain but is strong enough to keep you in place.
“Sebastian.” Ominis leans in close, his weight making the cushions of the couch dip. “Can he see us?”
“...Yes.” You reply hesitantly, watching as Sebastian raises a crystal glass to his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as he takes a sip of the amber liquid; His eyebrow twitching slightly as if he’s displeased with the sight in front of him. “He’s looking this way.”
“Is he now?” Ominis asks, nonchalantly sliding an arm around your tummy. You stiffen, breaking eye contact with Sebastian as you turn to look at the man at your front. You shift almost uncomfortably; Your knees pressed into the leather cushions as your clothed heat grazes a growing hardness beneath you. 
“Relax, little dove.” He chuckles, leaning closely to whisper in your ear. “Play along, hm?”
“Ominis?” Your voice raises an octave higher, as you feel the tickle of his warm breath. “What are you doing?”
Slim fingers slither up the base of your neck, forcing you to turn your head upwards; The cold surface of his serpent ring cooling your skin contrasts the hot touch of his soft lips. You let out a gasp; Ominis taking advantage of your lack of apprehension, his fingers sneaking past your lips before teasingly grazing your tongue, 
You panic, and without thinking, instinctively bite down; The bitter, coppery taste of blood hitting your taste buds. 
Unphased, Ominis pulls his finger from your mouth, holding it up to the light; Almost as if to examine it before bringing the wound to his own lips. You watch entranced as his tongue dips out slightly before sucking ever so slightly.
“Having fun?” The unamused, baritone voice of Sebastian Sallow breaks your trance. How the both of them managed to sneak past the enchanted curtain – you’d never know.
“Seb,” Ominis does not sound surprised, “Look what I’ve found.”
“Yes,” Sebastian raises a brow before taking a seat next to the two of you – his eyes shyly darting up to meet yours. “Ever the rare gem.”
“You sound upset,” The blonde man’s voice sounds bemused. You shift, turning to climb off of the man’s lap but his cold fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs stopping any movement. 
Sebastian remains quiet, jaw clenched tightly as if he was doing everything within his power not to say anything.
Ominis takes note of his friend's silence before clearing his throat. He gives you a small almost taunting smile - the gesture making you scowl. 
“It’s wonderful, no?” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, silvery eyes burning into your own. “This reunion with our little dove.”
“Delightful.” Sebastian clips, his answer short and curt before swallowing the remaining contents of his glass. 
“Come now,” Ominis chuckles. “Don’t be sour. Ruining such a…splendid occasion.”
Sebastian remains silent, leaning forward, resting elbows on his knees as he examines the now empty glass. Ominis disregards his friend’s lack of words.
“Now then, do tell us what we’ve missed in the time we have been apart, hm?”
You turn away, not wanting to show defeat to the man’s taunting behavior. Heat rises to your cheeks; The entirety of the circumstances make it difficult to procure a single thought. 
“Seb has missed you dearly.” For a moment you see a glimpse of the old Ominis as he gently grazes the frown in your brow. “Wouldn’t shut up about you since the day we both left.”
“Enough.” Sebastian looks away, jaw clenched. 
“Brooding and moping about – constantly whining about how he wished he never had to leave.”
You turn to look at the man in question. He…didn’t want to leave?
“Then.” You speak softly, afraid that he’d be able to detect the pain in your voice. “Why…why did you?”
Sebastian finally turns to look at you, his eyes burning into your own with such a strong conviction.
“I had no choice.” There is an almost painful strain in his voice. 
“I still don’t understand.” Your voice cracks as the tears you’ve been so desperately holding back threaten to spill over. “You left…both of you. Letters that explained little beyond nothing. What am I supposed to think?”
Ominis is the first to speak. “My father is…He is not a good man, little dove.” 
Sebastian runs a hand through his hair as he turns away as if he is too ashamed to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. 
“In return for immunity, I swore loyalty to the Gaunt Family….They have been nothing but hospitable.”
You inhale through parted lips, his confession suddenly making it hard to breathe. You should be upset. But you find it hard to conjure up such feelings when the man you loved is safe and sound in front of you. 
“You couldn’t afford to tell me that? It’s been years.”
Sebastian looks torn as he searches for his next words. No matter how many years to have passed, you knew that the death of his uncle would haunt him for an eternity of lifetimes. 
“My father values loyalty and pureblood status above everything else.” Ominis says with clear distaste. 
“Enough that he was willing to turn a blind eye to the blood on my hands.” Sebastian finishes quietly. 
“At my father’s bidding…we have…done…unspeakable things, little dove.” Ominis is careful with his words. “Leaving Hogwarts was our only way to keep you from going down the same path.”
You search his face for answers but his expression reveals nothing. The House of Gaunt were Pureblood Enthusiasts; Notorious in the Wizarding World as one of the Sacred Twenty Eight and revered almost the same as royalty. Though you knew of their…strange pastimes, you didn’t think they would be capable of any horrors beyond that. 
“I don’t want his legacy to live on.” Ominis cups your face in his hands, smoothing away the worry in your brow. “I will be the one to change that.” 
“And…” You swallow, still feeling utterly confused. “Why return now?”
“We have our reasons.” 
Sebastian looks to his friend, his expression itself seems to warn Ominis not to speak another word. The blonde man gives him a curt nod – their secrecy leaving you even more frustrated. 
“So that’s it? You expect me to forgive you? Just like that?” You feel your voice begin to rise. “ No explanation?...I think you owe me that much.” 
While Sebastian’s face is filled with prominent guilt, Ominis watches your outburst with indifference. 
“It’s for your own good, little dove.” 
“I’m not your dove.” You spat, shoving his arms away yet your reaction only seems to amuse him – making an angry bile rise in the pit of your belly. “And I am certainly not another one of your obedient dogs that will respond to your beck and call.” 
Sebastian flinches at the forced hostility in your voice, knowing that your words were in reference towards him. 
“So little faith in us?”
“What?” You are taken aback by Ominis’ sudden gentle tone. His gaze is unwavering; Eyes never leaving your own as if he could truly see you.
“Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not really there.” He closes his eyes. “We’d move mountains, seize the Heavens and Earth for you, little dove. Our love for you is like no other and we will always find our way back… There is nothing that will deny us of you. Is that not enough?”
His heartfelt confession takes you aback, You bite your lip, speechless as the tears you struggled so hard to hold back begin to spill over. How could you stay angry? 
“Don’t cry.” Sebastian’s voice cracks as he cups your cheeks in warm hands, brushing away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.
“In due time, we will tell everything.” Ominis murmurs, “Till then, will you allow us to earn your trust once again?”
“What…what do you mean?” You speak barely above a whisper. 
“We’ve missed you so much. Allow us to show you, yeah?” Sebastian turns you around with ease, all while keeping you seated on Ominis’ lap. Suddenly, he drops to his knees, looking up at you as if you were a Goddess from above. But he doesn’t touch you.
“You’re the one in charge, love.” The sounds of his breath filling the silent alcove. “I won’t touch you unless you allow it.”
How peculiar, To have Sebastian Sallow on his knees practically begging for your forgiveness. This was something you had definitely not anticipated before agreeing to attend the party. A part of you was screaming to not give in; To get up and walk away forever. 
But deep down, you knew that that was never going to be an option. 
Sebastian looks up at you through long lashes, his hazel eyes searching your own for answers. You feel your lips waver; Unable to form coherent words, you swallow – throat suddenly feeling dry before giving a small nod. 
That was all he needed. 
HIs hands dig into your thighs, pushing them apart before nestling in between. Ominis reaches down, keeping them spread, allowing his friend to have a better view. 
“Fuck. I’ve missed you.” The brunette man wastes no time in showering you with love, peppering open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs – the sudden attack making you gasp and arch forward, almost slipping off of Ominis’ lap.
“Be a good girl, yes?” Ominous’ warm breath tickles your ear as the tips of his fingers ghost across your sheer panties; Your hips unconsciously rising to meet his touch. 
“Ominis.” Your voice wavers. “People can see.”
“They wouldn’t dare.” His voice darkens. “Not at what belongs to us.” 
A whine escapes your lips as he clicks his tongue, pulling his hand away. With a snap of his fingers, the candles that once illuminated the small space, go out with a hiss. His demonstration of wandless magic makes your core twitch. 
“Stop moving.”
You bite your lip, listening to the authoritative man. 
 “Don’t be such a bastard.” Sebastian pauses his trail of kisses at the base of your thigh to glance up at you. “Look, you’ve gone and made her cry.”
“Something you’re quite familiar with then?” The other man teases, grinning against your neck.
Sebastian throws a dirty look at his friend.
“She can handle it.” Ominis tugs your panties aside, making you gasp. “ A big girl now, aren’t you?” 
Hesitantly, you nod. 
He groans, satisfied with your obedience. “Use your words, lovely.”
“Y – ah! Yes!”
Sebastian’s hands dig into the flesh of your inner thighs, forcing them apart to give himself a better look. His almost forceful actions make you gasp.
“Fuck.” He curses. “She’s soaking.”
“Is she?” Ominis’ hand ghosts across your breasts, thumbing hardened buds through the fabric of your shirt. “Don’t be a prude Seb. Go on, tell me how she tastes.”
Sebastian wastes no time, burying his face between your legs - his sudden attack making you gasp. His tongue is wet and hot, pushing into you -  the new sensation making you see white as you grip onto the man behind you; Any attempts to keep your sanity were now treading on a fine line. 
“Beautiful.” Ominis’ hot breath tickles the crook of your neck. His hand forces you to turn your head to the side before tracing down your shoulder. Cold fingertips trail along your arm; His touch eliciting goosebumps along your skin. Before finally, entwining his slender fingers with your own. 
“Omi,” You whine. 
He guides your hand downwards; A silent instruction. Your hands brushing away Sebastian's dark curls aside, only to find that the man beneath you is already looking up at you - his dark eyes burning into your own as he laps at your cunt like a desperate man. He groans when he feels your hands stroke the side of his face, encouraging him to press into you, the tip of his nose nudging your clit; Your moans making him scoot forward as if he couldn’t get any closer. 
Ominis’ hands don’t stop there, guiding you to the heat of your sex. “Do you touch yourself, little dove?”
Sebastian’s tongue tickles your fingertips as it now almost sloppily darts back and forth. The sensation makes you mewl. 
“Show us how, yeah?” Ominis is now panting, his hard cock digging into your ass. With his hand over your own, he presses against your clit, starting a taunting rhythm – the sound of your wetness elicited by his rough movements. 
“Oh fuck!” You cry out. Sebastian’s muscled arms wrap around your thighs, locking them in place. Your outburst only encourages him more as he buries his face into your cunt. The wet muscle pumping in and out, stretching your virgin hole beyond anything before. 
“She’s gonna cum.” Ominis nibbles on your ear, making you gasp. Every sensation overwhelms your already heightened senses.
Your hips rise to meet Sebastian – practically humping his face as you reach up, hands tangling blonde locks as your orgasm violently runs throughout your body like electricity. Your breasts rise and fall to the rhythm of your heavy pants as you struggle to regain your breath, Sebastian presses soft kisses to your sex, chuckling as it elicits small spasms in your lower half. 
“You did so well, little dove.” Ominis praises you with a kiss to your brow. “Nothing will separate us ever again.” 
316 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 2 months
Text
Players Wanted: Session 0
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Fic Summary: Various Readers ask to join Hellfire. Eddie Munson x Reader
A new semester meant that Hellfire Club was now open for new members again. It was rare that anyone new joined Hellfire in any permanent capacity during the Spring semester, but not completely unheard of. Grant had shown up in the middle of Spring his freshman year, having been a transfer from outside of Hawkins after all. 
But this wasn’t just any Spring semester, this was the Spring Semester of 1986, baby! This was Eddie’s final year, the finish line, everything that he had worked so damn hard for over the past six years. Nothing was going to stop him, not Higgins, not his dad, not this damn town that was turned against him. 
This was finally going to be his year. 
And with this being his year, Eddie had been working hard on his final campaign. This was going to be his grand finale, one that he had been pouring his heart and soul into over the past few months. The Cult of Vecna. 
Of course, with this being the end of an era for Hellfire Club, Eddie wanted to go out with the best party imaginable. He was going to throw everything he could into this, be as sadistic and hard on his players as he could. They could handle it, they’d been playing with him long enough that he knew exactly what they could handle. His little sheepies weren’t about to back down from a challenge. 
The new semester also meant refreshing club applications for the last time. Normally Eddie didn’t bother, if it wasn’t broke then don’t fix it. The applications had stayed the same over the last few years. HELLFIRE CLUB. ADVENTURERS WANTED. Fill out your name, race, and class and come by the drama storage room on Friday. 
This wasn’t amateur hour though, and Eddie wasn’t here to babysit any new players. For this last campaign, he wanted everyone in his party to be on the same level, same playing field, same knowledge of the rules, so a little tweaking was in order. 
ONLY EXPERIENCED ADVENTURERS!
If he was going to be completely honest with himself, even if someone showed up with minimal knowledge he’d probably still let them in. He needed to train the future leaders of Hellfire how to handle the next generation of Freaks anyway. Jeff wasn’t the most patient with newbies, but he’d have to learn. Gareth was also starting to ask questions about DMing now, and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how Hellfire would fare after Eddie’s graduation. 
If someone showed real interest, then they’d be allowed in. Which brought Eddie to the second new addition to the application. 
*Give this completed form to Eddie Munson in the Hawkins highschool lunchroom 
There. He’d had his share of bogus applicants in the past, just trying to be funny and waste his time. If you were going to join the Freak Show, you were going to show up center stage and ask the Dungeon Master himself. 
Satisfied, Eddie took the stack of applications and set them on the table in the main hall of the high school, next to the other stacks of applications for all the other clubs in school. 
As he turned the corner to head to his first period, he didn’t notice another person pick up the Hellfire Club application... 
Welcome to my mini series! Each chapter will have a different type of Reader asking to join Hellfire club! I am trying to keep it to one type of reader per chapter, so one Shy, one Popular, one Cheerleader, one Freak, etc! However I really want this to be interactive, so either fill out the form and drop it in my inbox or leave a comment to let me know what kind of Reader you want to see, and you’ll get more likely to be picked if you give me more detail! 
-----
Master List
And if you’re thinking “Rachel, don’t you have like, 4 other series you should be working on?” think about other things instead, please. 
Welcome to Hellfire. 
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isa-beenme · 9 months
Note
For the Acotar Bingo could you do Pregnancy with Azriel?
You thought you were going to be free from me? NEVER MUAHAHAHAHA I promised to do all of the requests and I WILL
See? I'm not capable to do a one-shot without giving their whole story before. Not that any of you mind I guess 😎😎
I don't know if it's something you like but hey! Let's give this poor author a try, alright?
Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this 🥰🥰
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Never Knew I Needed
You always knew Azriel would be the greatest male that ever got into your life. From the moment you saw those eyes looking at you from the other side of the room until the scene going on in front of you, you decided that this male would be forever cursed with your presence in his life. You doubted he would mind tho.
It all started when your friend got you an extra invitation to the High Lord's starfall party in one second she was guiding you through the food table and in the other she found another friend of hers and simply disappeared. Easy like that you stayed a good part of the night eating every single different appetizer you could find. This kept going for a long time until he saw you looking like a fish out of the water and smiled at you from across the room.
And, oh my, wasn't he ravishing? The most beautiful male you ever encountered in your life. And yes, you were counting those funny-looking shadows that kept flying around him as part of his charm.
You didn't smile back through, too shocked with his looks to make your brain work properly. He raised an eyebrow and made a wave with his hand, signalizing for you to approach. Not that you did, your first reaction was to put another deliciously fried cheese thing inside your mouth and look around to search for who he was talking to. It couldn't possibly be you… right?
As you were ready to take another cheese ball a shadow appeared in front of the bowl, after circling your wrist and tugging the sleeve of your dress you finally looked back at the male, he was definitely trying to contain a smile that threatened to form in his mouth. Damn it, you wanted to see that full-mouth laugh he was trying to hold back.
That's when you finally realized he was waving at you. Oh, gods, everything made sense now, he was one of the High Lord's men and he discovered you were nothing but a mere citizen and that you were not part of the High High Fae, but a Low High Fae. By the Mother, you could just jump out of the building and hope for a quick death if he was going to take you to the dungeon and torture you. Could you possibly give away your friend for sneaking you there? You decided that no, however the torture method you were going to face you would never EVER give away your friend. Even if she deserved it for abandoning you there.
You quickly popped another ball into your mouth before following the shadows that looked so happy to guide you through the crowd. When you made it to the male you were already finished chewing that delicious food, hoping it wasn't the last proper food you were going to taste before being only fed with old bread and dirty water for the next few days.
- Oh well, hello there - He said, his voice causing reactions in your body that you didn't think were possible.
- Hm, hi? I guess - To say you were scared was ridiculous, you were ready to pretend to have a heart attack and get away from there - Look, I'm sorry if I'm not on my best behavior. I'm just a little nervous that my friend disappeared from my view and she was kind of my guide here, so, yeah, I'm sorry that I'm eating the whole buffet. But you need to understand, it's my first time here, and, I kinda figured out you already know that I'm not part of a rich family or even deserve to be here, I mean, my parents are bakers! How could I possibly get an invitation, right? That's what you were going to ask! So, this friend that I was talking about, Stella, she got me an invitation, it was supposed to be her sister but she got sick last week and told me to come to her place. Yes, I know, fake identity is a crime, but hey, having fun for one night is not! I swear I'm not going to do this ever again, if, and only if, you promise to not take me to the dungeons to only feed me bread and let the rats ruin this beautiful dress, because, you know, this is not even mine! I borrowed it from Stella! Please mister scary and strangely handsome winged muscular attractive male, don't kill me! I swear I'm usually a good person, I had a good education too, you know? I don't know what happened to me tonight, but I promised I'll be better from now on!
You could only watch as his face morphed from a shocked expression to the most amused one. The laugh he seemed to be holding now made music to your ears, and you wondered if you actually had jumped out of the mountain and were now in that heaven with milk honey or something like that people always talked about.
- What? - He laughed even harder as you tried to catch your breath.
- You are not one of the High Lord's men?
- Well, that I am - He said as the laughs slowly turned into small giggles.
- But you are not going to arrest me? - His eyes sparkled as he took you in, his smile now permanent on his face.
- Why would I do that to such a beautiful female? - You felt your face heat up at his question, mischief covering his expression as he realized the effect he had on you.
- You called me here for what, then? - One of his shadows slowly made its way to your arm, resting on your shoulder as if trying to warm itself.
- Can't a male try his luck with a pretty girl at his brother's party? It's Starfall, after all, I was kinda hoping you could give me the gift of your night - That made you dumbfounded, you weren't going to lie to yourself.
- You are quite shameless, huh? - His eyes traveled through every part of you before stopping at your face again.
- I'm not the one giving away my best friend Stella for inviting me to a party - Your eyes surely were popping out of your head as you realized what you said only minutes ago - But I promise I won't tell Rhysand if you give me the pleasure of your company for this night, my lady - He offered you his hand, a shining stone glowing in the back of it - And maybe I can personally invite you for the next Starfall and you won't have to commit a crime again.
You gave him your hand as you felt a smile appear on your mouth, making his expression light up from the simple view of your happiness.
That was basically how, thirty years later, you were now caressing the shadowsinger's hair as he sang for the little baby inside your belly, making yours and his heart calm as the smooth voice of your husband filled the place around you and he finished the song and kissed you belly one more time before pushing himself up until he met your lips with his.
- What that big mind of yours was thinking, hm? - He knew you too well, thirty years of sharing your lives and you learned that you could never hide anything from him.
- Just remembering the day we met - He slightly chuckled before wrapping you in his arms, keeping a hand on your stomach to make sure his future son would stay calm and finally let his mother sleep - Weird to think I was hoping to not get arrested and ended up caged to you. Now I'm carrying your child and you sing to him when he kicks too much while I admire that pretty face of yours and imagine how in this universe I got you to fall in love with me.
- You never asked, actually - At your confused look he kissed lips quickly before explaining - Why I fell in love with you. I know that you took your time but I knew that you would be my wife the moment you begged me to not let the rats eat Stella's dress in the dungeon. You're the best thing I never knew I needed, even if I always searched for.
- You're the best thing I never knew I needed too, Az. Thank you for loving me, for giving me the life I have right now - You joined your hand with his on top of your belly, feeling your son kick lightly as if to say he agreed with you - I love you more than life itself.
- I should be the one thanking you. You changed my life for best and showed me so many different ways of living - He kissed you, deeply now, taking his time with you, tasting all the love you had to give, and answering with the same amount - I love you more than life itself.
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reidsaurora · 1 year
Note
emmy may i request candy cane kisses with the prompt snowed in at the bau with our beloved Spence <33 hot cocoas and manilla folders
I'm so excited for your Christmas challenge!! Happy holidays love <33
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"Snow and Sweet" ~ S. Reid
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Summary: In which a cup of hot cocoa and a slip of the tongue leads to a mistletoe kiss and a love confession.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (reader wears lipstick but fuck social norms)
Word Count: 1,493
Content Warning: the tiniest bit of angst because Y/N is lowkey insecure because of Elle, mentions of coffee and hot chocolate, like one (1) swear word, Spencer is autistic but what's new, honestly i think that's it?
Genre: Fluff, v fluffy 🫶🏻
Extra Notes: this took me soooo long to write but as they say, good things take time 🫡
Based on the Request: "emmy may i request candy cane kisses with the prompt snowed in at the bau with our beloved Spence <33 hot cocoas and manilla folders"
Originally Written: 01/03/2022
Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
"ofwilliamandwalter's Christmas special" can be found here!
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You weren't quite sure how you found yourself in this position, but one way or another, you were stuck at the BAU… with Spencer Reid. Only Spencer Reid.
It wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world if you didn't have the biggest (and probably most unrequited) crush on the man.
You'd been working together for two years, straight out of the Training Academy. He must've been so smart he skipped training, you reckoned, because you were sure you would've seen someone as beautiful as him around and probably would've failed from being distracted by him.
Spencer looked much different now then when you'd first met, and if he'd looked like that in training, you were sure you would've tripped during your high speed chase at Hogan's Alley. His shaggy hair was replaced with neatly trimmed waves, his contacts were replaced with glasses that made him carry himself with a confidence you hadn't seen when you first met, and his shy, questioning smile was replaced with one of certainty. He seemed much more like his true self.
Any other time, you might've not minded being snowed in at the BAU. After all, it was a big enough building—a library on the second floor, a coffee shop on the first. But tonight was Christmas Eve, and you cursed yourself for insisting that you could finish up your paperwork and have time to make it to Penelope's apartment for a Christmas movie night.
Only five pages remained of your work when Spencer stepped toward your desk. "The Weather Channel says we might be snowed in." he'd said, his voice stupidly sweet, his expression stupidly concerned, his face stupidly beautiful.
Here you were, three hours later, sipping on some hot chocolate in your favorite work mug and avoiding Spencer like a plague. This was especially hard considering you were the only two people on this floor.
"You OK?" he asked, breaking you from your online shopping trance. "Well," he chuckled, "all things considered."
No. I'm trapped in here with the person I find most attractive who probably doesn't find me the least bit attractive. "All good," you smiled before taking another sip of hot chocolate.
He sat down in the chair next to yours, (Derek's, but it wasn't like he was there to use it anyway). A sideways smile stretched across his face as he said, "Well, please don't take offense when I say this, but I am a profiler and I can tell when something seems wrong. You've been avoiding me for one thing and every time we have spoken, you say three words or less."
"Not true," you pouted, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your words reverberated in your ears, realization hitting you like a bus. "Sorry," you said, looking away. "I'm just not having the best night. I mean, I am stuck in the BAU with-"
You stopped abruptly, not sure how you'd let that much slip. Great, Y/N. Just great.
"With what?" he asked. Of course he caught that.
"Without Piper. She's my tabby cat." Well, at least he knows how much you love animals.
His mouth twisted. "You have a cat? That's so cool. I've always wanted a cat but I couldn't own one because my mom and I both have cat allergies." Of course he has cat allergies. How could I possibly make this worse?
Luckily, you stopped yourself before any more embarrassing things could slip from your tongue. Instead you took another sip of chocolatey goodness, thankful that it was the last one. "I'm gonna go make some more hot chocolate," you managed to say.
Much to your dismay, Spencer followed behind, reaching up into the shelf directly above you. His chest gently nudged your back, though his body felt rock solid. When did Spencer get so buff under those sweater vests?
"Sorry," he said with a blush.
You shook your head, perhaps a tad too fast. "It's all good." You turned your attention back to the fridge, grabbing the milk for your cocoa. Thank goodness Penelope stocks this fridge like she owns it.
A couple minutes had passed and you'd finished making your cocoa just as Spencer finished making his cup of coffee. You turned to walk back to the bullpen, but he grabbed your wrist with his free hand. Damn those hands. "Hey, are you sure you're OK?"
You set your mug back on the counter, your arms crossing tightly in front of your chest. "I am fine, Reid."
His eyes softened and his brows furrowed. "Did I do something?"
Your stomach churned at the thought of ever making Spencer sad or distressed. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"
"You keep avoiding me. You tensed up when I reached around you for my mug. You won't make eye contact with me. I'm just scared I've done something."
You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. "Spencer, you could never. I promise. I love you too much to ever-"
"You what?"
You froze in your tracks. If it hadn't been for hearing your slip of the tongue, Spencer might've thought you'd been seen a ghost.
"You love me?" he asked.
You couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, and the only thing you were sure you could do was hear because his question echoed in your head like he'd screamed it at the Grand Canyon.
"Y/N?" he called, waving a hand in front of your face. It wasn't until you blinked that he was sure you were still alive. You wanted to disappear. When you remembered that Spencer knew magic tricks, you were tempted to ask him how much you'd have to pay to see him make you disappear into thin air.
"If it's any consolation, I think I like you, which I know isn't the same but…" he told you, his voice trailing awkwardly. At least you weren't awkward alone. He chuckled for a moment before examining, "I sound like a seventh grader right now, don't I?"
Some of the heaviness left your chest as his response rang through your eardrums. "You… like me?"
He nodded softly, his cheeks tinged as red as your favorite Christmas mug. "I do. I'm assuming by what you said that you must really like me too."
You let out a deep sigh before looking up at him. "If I have to be honest, I've had the biggest crush on you since the day I met you. Up until about twenty seconds ago, I just assumed it was unrequited. I mean, the way you always looked at Elle before she left-"
He blushed with an awkwardly amused huff. "I suppose I should admit that I always thought Elle was pretty. Doesn't mean I thought she was prettier than you."
This time, a rouge made its way to your own cheeks. "Really? I mean, Elle's got everything. A nice body, she's smart, she's beautiful, and I'm… well, I'm me."
An expression of reassurance overtook his face as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You are both beautiful in your own ways. You shouldn't compare yourself to others. Yes, I liked you both, but for different reasons. I always thought Elle was pretty. But you… I think you're beautiful. And you've always been kind to me. You're one of the only people here who respects my neurodiversity."
Your eyes darted away awkwardly, up to the roof—or rather, what was hanging from the roof. Why does the universe hate me?
Spencer must've noticed your eyes, widened and focused on whatever was above his head. His head tilted upward, and you were secretly thankful your eyes were stuck to the roof, otherwise you might've melted on the spot after seeing that one stupidly beautiful vein in his neck. "Huh," he said, his tone the most nonchalant you'd ever heard, "mistletoe."
"Yep," you replied, the p popping louder than you'd expected it to.
He looked back down at you, his cheeks redder and hotter than ever. "Hey, traditions are stupid anyway. We don't have to-"
He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed your lips twist the slightest bit downward. Even you hadn't noticed it until he was grabbing your face and pulling your lips into his, forcing them upward again.
He smelled sweet, probably because of the fifteen spoonfuls of creamer and sugar he always put in his coffee. Your stomach turned, probably a mix of nerves from your current position and the sickeningly sweet smell of Spencer Reid (or his coffee, anyway).
His hands stayed on either side of your face as he pulled away. You let out a giggle as you saw the remnants of your favorite lipstick coating his lips.
Spencer's wristwatch beeped loudly, breaking you away from your trance. He glanced down at his wrist while his other hand darted up to the nape of his neck. "Merry Christmas?" he said, cringing.
You giggled once more, pulling him in for another kiss. "Merry Christmas, sweet boy."
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Rups, my dear!!!! This was such a cute request and I am so glad with how it turned out!
I wrote this probably ten times and nothing ever seemed good enough. I'm sure you as a writer understand that sometimes, you make your standards way too high for your own self 🤣 But, finally, one last time I deleted the document and started anew... and this is what happened! I love it so so much and I hope you do too!!
As always, thank you for being so patient with me. Sometimes requests take me a little while because I want to have the vision as beautiful as the requester has made it out to be so it does take me a lil bit longer sometimes to do that. Thank you for your patience, my dear!!!
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↳ Request an imagine here!
↳ Join my taglist here!
↳ Get to know me here!
↳ TAGLIST: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @Gal-obsessed-with-marvel @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @Criminalmindsandmarvel @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @aislingcanning @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @soapiebear
☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆
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Note
Could you do a romance fanfic between reader and Harry Potter if possible? 💜 Thankyou
hello sweetie! Thank you so much for requesting this, I needed to write for Harry as it has been long. I really hope you liked this fic!
Cold Winter (H.p. x reader)
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Pairing- Harry x Femreader
Summary- Harry’s sweater has gone missing! He has tried searching for it everywhere, but with no luck...until he goes to his wonderful girlfriend to find it and sees a sight to behold forever!| Fluff
House- Slytherin
Requested by- an anon
Meanings- B/n= Book’s name
Words- 1,651 words
Harry Potter Masterlist Main Masterlist
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Today was one of the days when the weather was at its peak, it was the month of December and it was snowing heavily. Everyone’s noses and cheeks were a blush color because of the cold and Harry too was red completely.
He had thought it wasn’t that cold, but nature proved him wrong as he slipped his hands inside the pockets of his robes and went to his next class.
“If I go now, how much time would it take for me to go and get my sweater? The Gryffindor Tower is almost a 20-minute walk, and class starts within 10 minutes...maybe I’ll take it later” he muttered to himself as he started walking to his Potions class.
The dungeon's classroom made the room radiate a little warmth to him, he rubbed his hands under the table to keep himself warmer during this cold day.
The class started and as usual Professor Snape gave his boring lectures which no one was interested in. Everyone near him were talking among themselves as Harry turned to talk to his Gryffindor friends, which the whole school by now knows, Ron and Hermione.
“You didn’t get your sweater?” Ron asked as he himself was wearing a sweater with gloves but still was cold, “Didn’t get enough time, thought it would be less cold” he replied rubbing his hands again.
“You should have known, it’s December for Godric’s sake!” Hermione scolded him as her eyes then diverted to the class. Ron looked at him and signaled him, asking him if he would want his sweater to which Harry swayed his head in a no. Ron still insisted on wearing at least his gloves and without a second thought, he removed his gloves and handed them to Harry.
Harry’s hands were still better at getting warmth than his whole body, all thanks to Ron. As the class ended, Harry sprinted out of the class but as he was going to head out, Snape had to call HIM out of everyone in the class.
“Mr. Potter, I have noticed you haven’t written anything in my class...you will have to clean this classroom as detention and 10 points from Gryffindor” he sneered and Harry mentally rolled his eyes, it was no new thing for Harry to receive detention even though half of the class wrote nothing.
He sighed and turned to Ron and Hermione and motioned them to go and they simply nodded and left without arguing as Snape already deducted 10 points from Gryffindor, and they didn’t want more points to be deducted.
Harry had to clean the classroom, which wasn’t so bad, it could have been worse as he had once been asked to clean the Potions classroom after some student had made a huge mess in the class and he had to clean it without magic.
The class was anyways clean just here and there bits of paper scattered around the floor that needed to be picked up.
As he finished his cleaning he then went out of the class and went for his last and final class, Astronomy which was apparently only TODAY, being conducted in the Astronomy Tower which was miles away.
Harry then sprinted and ran in the direction of the Tower and as he reached the Tower, he had to climb the stairs all the way up. “Are you kidding me?” he huffed and climbed the stairs.
As he reached the class Professor Sinistra asked, “Mr. Potter, why are you late for the class?”
“Professor I had detention..” he said breathlessly as Professor Sinistra nodded and Harry went and attended his last and final class,
After that run, he indeed felt warm but as he stood and listened to the class he started feeling cold once again, he tried rubbing his hands to keep him warm while Ron rolled his eyes and said “Next time, get your sweater no matter what”
“Done,” he said and then listened to the rest of the class.
As the class ended he then went down the stairs, a cold wind blew as they reached the castle. “I am going to get my sweater, you guys go on” Harry said and they both nodded and started walking away as Hermione was in a deep conversation with Ron.
Harry then went to the Gryffindor Tower and as he walked he saw the snow slowly falling onto the leaves of trees, the courtyard was fully covered in snow like a white blanket was spread over it.
He indeed liked winter, it was a beautiful season after all but, he didn’t like to be cold. He then climbed the Gryffindor Tower stairs and then went straight to his dorm, he opened the door and closed it.
Then he went through all of his clothes, “Umm, I swear I kept it right…. here….” he said and made almost a mess of the clothes he had kept neatly folded.
He huffed giving up, “I had kept my sweater right here, where could it have gone?” he asked himself and sighed.
He tried thinking of places he would have left it, but nothing. He didn’t even use it until today when he needs it the most is when it gets lost somewhere.
He cursed under his breath for not getting more sweaters, he did have many more sweaters but he left them at the Burrow.
Harry was in deep thought when he suddenly thought of someone, not a place, a person who could have taken his sweater, that person was the only one who would have taken his sweater from his dorm as no one else would have taken it.
He then got up and folded his clothes neatly and then sprang himself towards the Slytherin Dorms, he knew his wonderful girlfriend must have taken his sweater and he just wanted to check for himself.
He then went and waited outside the Slytherin stone door through which he could enter the Slytherin common room and Y/n’s dorm.
“Y/n!! Can you just come out and let me in!” he shouted from outside the door.
“What is your problem-, Oh Harry!” Daphne Greengrass, Y/n’s friend, exclaimed and Harry motioned as though asking if he could come in to which Daphne gladly allowed him to.
“Wanna see Y/n huh?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows to which Harry rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically “No, of course not I was here for someone else named Y/n who happens to be my girlfriend” which Daphne laughed to.
She then stopped right outside your dorm and said “Here’s where I leave you, Harry!” in a dramatic way to which Harry laughed and Daphne left.
Harry knocked on your dorm door to which you responded with a sweet “come in” as though you were engrossed in something else. Harry opened the door to a sight he wished he could capture in a camera forever.
You were sitting on your bed, with a book in your hands, reading it. The sun’s rays reflected from the water and created a beautiful watery sunlight effect which was reflected on your desk and your legs were spread on the bed, a pillow on your stomach, and eyes sparkling as though something good just happened in your own fantasy world of the book.
Harry smiled even wider when he noticed you, wearing his sweater, he just couldn’t help but feel a million butterflies in his stomach, lips in a permanent smile and eyes swelled with love.
He went forward and sat just beside you and was still grinning and not taking eyes off of you for even a second.
“Darling, what are you reading?” he asked still looking at you, “Oh, I am reading B/n, and I am literally in love with this book!” you exclaimed as you smelled his cologne from his sweater which you were wearing, It gave you a secure feeling, and as you looked towards him you couldn’t help but smile too at him.
You then went and wrapped your arms around him and he too went and wrapped his around your waist.
As you felt a cold hand on your waist you then remembered you had taken Harry’s sweater which happened to be the only one you found in his closet. “Harry you are freezing!” you exclaimed as you went and got a black hoodie that you owned and tossed it over to him, which he gladly took and wore.
“Better?” you asked “Yeah, much better,” he said and wrapped his hands again around your waist to which you laughed as you knew he wanted attention from you.
So you went and placed a bookmark in your book and placed it on your desk and went and laid on your bed and motioned him to come and cuddle you. He, without a second thought, jumped on your bed and bear-hugged you tightly as you giggled.
You comfortably positioned yourself in his arms and wrapped yours around him too.
As you both cuddled, the coldness which had engulfed Harry before soon vanished into thin air as he had the world in his arms, radiating warmth to him.
As he looked down at you he saw how beautiful and peaceful you looked in his arms and the smile on your lips which wasn’t wearing off so soon.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead and whispered “I will marry you in the future Y/n, I will” and he too then slowly drifted off to a peaceful slumber with Y/n in his arms.
His life was complete, just needed a ring to be added to this amazing relationship.
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TAGS- @blackthunder137 @spring-picnics @gachabella23 @eichenhouseproperty @raajali3 @favblkgirl @zmxchs @ravenqueen777
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goldeaglefire1 · 2 months
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so admittedly my knowledge of dungeon meshi has been mostly absorbed through osmosis and also that one time I picked up and read a few chapters (which. I should really finish reading Dungeon Meshi sometime what I read was good shit). however, with that alone I have determined that a dungeon meshi/undertale crossover would be funny as fuck
allow me to illustrate:
upon hearing that they're in a kingdom of monsters Laios gets really excited for a moment before promptly deflating when an extremely confused Toriel informs him that the monsters in the Underground turn to dust upon death, so no, he can't eat them. he gets better when the party finds the Spider Bakery stand and Laios realizes that the Underground can be just as weird about food as he is (Marcille is significantly less happy about this revelation)
the gang's on a pacifist run not because they're intentionally sparing the monsters but because every monster who runs into them only has to look at them for ten seconds to go "there is something deeply wrong with you people. I am going to leave"
Laios and Papyrus are on the same autism wavelength. for Laios and Papyrus this is a "oh my god he's just like me fr" moment as they excitedly listen to each other ramble about their special interests, but for Laios' party (mainly Marcille and Chilchuck) they're watching in mounting horror as they realize "oh god there's two of them" and listen to Laios making suggestions to make Papyrus' traps and puzzles deadlier
(Laios also asks Chilchuck if he has any advice for Papyrus considering his expertise with traps, to which Chilchuck goes "why the fuck are you asking me to give him advice on how to make the traps more effective at killing us that is the exact opposite of my job")
Sans and Senshi interacting. I don't have anything particularly funny to say here but I think this writes itself honestly
speaking of Senshi - Senshi getting in a very heated argument with Undyne about cooking methods. he is genuinely more offended about her methods of cooking than her attempting to kill them
Alphys is the only monster who realizes that there's only one human in the party (well, not really; Sans also recognizes that Laios is the only human but his response is to just go "huh. whack" and then go to sleep) and is so incredibly confused that she actually tries to cancel the whole Mettaton plan because she needs to go down a research rabbithole to figure out when elves became real. this does not work because Mettaton ignores Alphys and shows up anyway but there was an attempt
Muffet, Laios, and Senshi also get along to a horrifying degree and this ends up cancelling the Muffet fight early because they want to talk recipes. Marcille very quickly drags Laios and Senshi away from Muffet before either party can give the other ideas
honestly this is just scratching the surface I KNOW the meshiheads out there will be able to come up with even funnier scenarios than I did and I fully invite you to
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leonawriter · 2 months
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One of my favourite ideas with regards to Ryoji is this sort of... thing where he can just exist outside of time somehow, because of how short a time he's allowed to exist in reality.
(massive spoilers for P3 onward past this point, obviously, if you haven't already gone through the game.)
[EDIT: I've cleaned it up a bit and edited and put it on AO3. So, if you want like... an entire extra scene plus some, go here.]
Which is great in theory, but a bit more complicated if you wanna put it into practice, other than going "well, he's here because... oh, a wizard did it." There are possibilities and plausibles, but they're frankly limited if you have (like me) a logical mind and a need for something to suspend your disbelief.
Except then I had a thought - Ryoji is also known as Death, or Thanatos. He takes on that role at the climax, even. So, I started thinking along those lines, and wound up with-
Ryoji the psychopomp. Ryoji, the grim reaper.
Not "the Reaper" as in the one that roams dungeons (he exists during P3 and is implied by design to be connected somehow to Tatsuya Sudou, anyway).
More like, that it's a case of "Life gave her creations to Death, no matter what they both knew would happen the moment he touched them."
Minato (or Kotone) dies on the school rooftop, and there he is, able to talk to them, and they're able to tell him that everything worked out, that everything will work out. Their spirit lingers at the Door, and they talk like it's passing notes in class.
A young girl finds herself on the receiving end of unwanted advances, and then she's somewhere strange, confronted with uncomfortable and unwanted truths, and then- then, there's a boy in a yellow scarf wanting to know all of the things that she loved about her life. At first it's strange, and more than a bit hard to think of things for this weird guy who she's never met before, but the more she talks the more she realises that she really did have things she treasured.
He thanks her for telling him, and as she makes her peace with the fact that this is it, he tells her that he'll keep them in his heart now, too.
Wakaba Isshikki knows about the cognitive realm - a little too much, perhaps, but not enough to stop. Enough, perhaps, to see the shadow of a boy following her for a day or two. Enough to feel as though she's already living on borrowed time, when she feels that surely she knows what's happening, and she simply... doesn't care.
She's a little wispy, still, when he leads what's left of her toward the Sea of Souls where she now belongs. He's concerned, and rightly so, about what that means. Wakaba's more worried about the kids.
(A few people don't get Ryoji. Those unhappy few get the floating mask of Death and a series of coffins to tell them that their time has come. For some it's because even in death they have no humility, and for others still it's simply easier, that way. Easier to not be Ryoji wile dealing with it, even if it would have been easier still to simply walk away and let them find their own way to the Sea.
But Kunikazu Okumura had sent so many his way, that it was only right that Death came to meet him personally.
"I didn't even get to finish my speech," the man said, blubbering after the towering figure that Death made.
You had a daughter, Death reminded him, and he was silent the rest of the way.)
Goro Akechi comes to, and the first thing he sees is a bright yellow scarf.
The first thing he does is swear, because boys with slicked-back hair wearing yellow scarves aren't supposed to exist when you're dead. The second thing he does is look around, and realise that you aren't really supposed to exist in a sea of stars and sit on nothing when you're alive, either.
"Please tell me this isn't the afterlife," he says, mostly because although he figured it could be worse - he could have found himself in hell, or surrounded by all of the people he'd killed over the years, all of the ones who had every reason to make his afterlife hell if it wasn't already - it could definitely be better.
"It is and it isn't," comes the cryptic answer. "Usually it is, more or less. Each of those lights represents a soul, after all." And there were so many of them. "But you're a special case! You're both dead and not dead right now, which, usually that doesn't happen? People can almost die but not actually die, but they aren't usually both at the same time, I mean."
"Maruki," Akechi practically spits out. "In that case, I'm surprised you're not inundated right now."
Blue eyes - far too blue to be human, they almost remind him of Morgana, and he was neither human nor a cat, apparently - duck down, glancing away.
"I felt what happened. Everyone caught up in a lie, completely oblivious... if the one controlling that power had wanted to bring ruin, then..." But he shakes his head, bringing himself out of his own thoughts. "It's a good thing that didn't happen, really! And- you're wrong, by the way."
"What?"
"Like I said, you're a special case. I've been able to talk to a lot of people, but I've never been able to ask anyone to send a message back before!"
"Back?" For a moment, Akechi is reduced to parroting back words. Surely they mean something, but the obvious meaning is impossible, and he can't think of anything else. "Who would someone like you even want to send a message to, anyway?"
"Would you believe me if I said they were old enemies, who were also old friends? But, I guess you've had a few of those yourself, right?"
"What would you even know about me?"
Akechi got a lopsided, bittersweet smile in return.
"I've been following you for a lot longer than I think we'd both have liked," come the words that send a shiver down his spine as instincts and senses that were rusty from disuse told him what that meant even as his more conscious mind shied away from the idea of it. "But I hope that after this, we won't be able to talk again for a long, long time."
Something tells Akechi that he's both in no danger whatsoever, and also that he really shouldn't refuse. He expects to be on a strict deadline (ha, dead) but time moves differently here, and apparently they have exactly as much time as they need. No more, and not a second less.
When he opens his eyes again, he can remember everything-
Someone really wanted you to live, Ryoji had said, with a teasing smile, and bright eyes.
It makes him feel small. It makes him feel indebted - to Akira, to Ryoji, in ways that he can't even begin to examine or think of how to repay. It makes him want to give it all back, so that he doesn't have to deal with it, but that would be purely theoretical and besides, he has promises to keep.
First, a debt to Akira, something that to Akechi feels like barely a drop in the ocean and that hopefully Akira and his friends will feel the correct amount of gratitude for.
Secondly-
"Hello- yes, this is Goro Akechi speaking. Is this Mitsuru Kirijo-san? I have a message to pass on to you. Are the names Ryoji Mochizuki and Minato Arisato familiar to you, at all?"
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misguidedasgardian · 12 days
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The Lifeaters (I.5)
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V. Back Home
MASTERLIST
Chapter Summary: You never expecting entering Hogwarts was going to bring you… so much change 
Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)
Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, 
Wordcount: 2.1 k
Notes: I’m cutting first year to 8 chapters only… jeje they are just babies yet and like I said, this is for setting the tone for what comes next… jeje
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You were fairly smart, you were, the point is, you were truly outstanding in things that TRULY interested you, so you learned when the Slytherin Quidditch team practiced, and you would sit in the boxes no matter how early or how late, scribbling in a small diary you started to call your playbook, writing and describing all the plays, it was quite fun, even Marcus Flint and Terrence Higgs, the players noticed and waved at you
“Are you going to try out next year?”, he asked 
“Of course”, you’d answer happily
And from then on, you became some sort of cheerleader for the team, even helping them in planning plays after the Hufflepuff VS Ravenclaw match that of course you watched and made Draco watch it too.
You were happy, you felt at home in Slytherin and even in potions class
“Who can tell what would happen if I add to the concoction a rat’s tail?”, asked Snape, “Basilik?”, you swallowed hard and looked at home ide eyed
“It would cause a purple colored-explosion?”
“Are you asking me?”, he asked back, annoyed, raising one of his eyebrows. It was the longest seconds of your life, you stammered as Granger raised her hand
“no Ser, i’m saying”, you managed to mumble, and you could swear you saw a hint of a smile on his face
“Indeed”, he said quickly, “5 points for Slytherin, anyways…that is why you must be very carefully in selecting rat’s hair on the back of said rat instead…” and the class continued without a hitch, you and Draco exchanged big smiles at the points given
And the smile couldn’t be wiped out of your face for the rest of the day. No matter how much Matthew teased you, Draco was making everyone laugh telling you how the Gryffindor team was going to replace Potter with a wide-mouthed tree frog.
You always admired Draco’s sense of humor
The days were already shorter, and even started snowing, Snape’s class was in the dungeons and it got really cold down there, so you had to put on your gray jumper under your cape, but you were really happy because, you had been paired up with Theodore for a couple of classes for a special brew, and it made you giggle
Theodore Nott, your housemate, friend of Draco, he was very cute and sweet, he smiled softly at you, he had this beautiful green eyes that look a bit sad but its because they way they are shaped, you and daphne had discuss it at length 
You acted a bit dumb when you were near him, but you thought Snape had paired you both together because you could defend yourself pretty good in Potions, but he was useless in that subject, you had to carry it for four weeks, but you were happy to do so.
Now you were in the common room with Theo, you weren’t allowed in the laboratory after classes, so, the only place you could hang out and study properly, besides the library, but they didn’t let you bring potion making instruments… So here you were.
“It’s ¾”, you said softly, “not 3,4”
“Oh sorry”, he muttered, you only smiled, knowing that little error could make the potion exude a lethal smoke that would kill you both
“You still on that?”, the peace and nice atmosphere that you had created was eliminated by barely a sentence of Draco, who showed up accompanied by his own partner, Matthew
You could see Theo’s face twisting in discomfort
“We just hadn't had the time”, you said simply
“We finished days ago”, they didn’t leave, they just sat there in the leather couch next to the table that you were working on 
You finished the best you could, feeling like you were being watched, and you had to use the loo so you left them to go to the bathroom
When you came back, you heard them
“I don’t know why she keeps insisting on the potion, maybe she fancies me”, muttered Theo, “and that’s why we keep working together”, and that broke your little heart. Draco frowned at this, without noticing you
“She doesn’t fancy you”, he said, with a disgusted face, and you had never been more grateful, especially with Matthew laughed at Theo
You pretended like everything was fine, you tried to ignore Theo’s guilty face, he was embarrassed, it was him that didn’t understand potions, but he was embarrassed to say so, and then, you were relieved that Draco stayed there with you.
“So, if I make this potion wrong it can explode?”, muttered Gaunt as he read your scribbles in the parchment, “interesting”
“No it's not”, you said quickly, “many potions could explode”, you said then quickly, Mathew and Theo exchanged looks that didn’t promise anything good.
They actually made the potion explode, underneath Filch’s desk, luckily he wasn’t there but Mrs Norris’ tail caught on fire that thankfully they were able to extinguish without much damage to the poor cat.
You found it horrible
But Matthew and Theo laughed 
You loved cats, and even though her being there was a sad accident, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling of your gut.
Matthew was a bit mean, and when you remembered him bringing the pumpkin to life… before he started carving it, it brought you chills.
Professor Snape was called, and Slytherin was taken 50 points.
When you were alone with Theo, he kept being nice to you, and the last class that you needed to work together, he ripped the page of the potion off of his book, and he folded you a snowflake with magic
You felt so happy you became giddy, even though he had lied to your friends 
As the weeks went by, the floor started to become white, as the snow started to stick 
But snow would only mean one thing… that you were most excited about
Christmas
Christmas is coming!
Between classes, and making friends, days turn into weeks and even months, and you were barely realizing it, Christmas was around the corner.
Every year you spend Christmas Eve with your Aunt, and then the next day you were invited to the Manor to spend the day with the Malfoys and their friends until the evening where you attend their annual Christmas Ball, it was always breathtaking, witches and wizards in their best dress robes ni black, white or red, and the decoration and food was out of this world
And this year, according to your aunt, it was going to be no different, you had three weeks of christmas break to go home, and you were going to spend it with Draco, the Malfoys and your aunt
You packed your trunk religiously, and even Umbra hooted in her cage happily, like she knew she was going back home
None of your teachers had left any homework, unless of course Professor Snape, who had given you a list of items you could find to make potions, so you needed to fetch them from your house or garden, he assured you they were things that could be easily found, trying to prove that potions could be brewed from almost anything
Anyways
You found Blaise in the great hall, he was staying at Hogwarts for the Holidays
“My mother is spending christmas in Greece with her new husband”, he muttered sadly
“I’m sorry Blaise”
“Other people are staying, so it's fine”, you had to go, Draco, from the other side of the Hall, was waving at you to go 
The train ride back to London was very pleasant, Draco couldn’t stop boasting about his list of presents and how he was sure he was going to get everything he wanted, he asked you about what was in yours, but you only had three items… a Nimbus 3000, Quidditch riding gear of the Holyhead Harpies and a dragon
You knew you were being silly, but you always wanted a Dragon, a small one would suffice, you had seen them, miniature versions of real dragons, that you could handle. 
And you promised your aunt that you could sell your current broom, a Quicksilver 2.0, so you wouldn’t have two, you were hopeful, you had been saving from your allowance, but still, professional brooms such as those had to be purchased by an adult 
So you were now even more hopeful, but you were surprised to discover actually Matthew was going to spend Christmass in the Malfoy Manor as well
When you’d ask Draco about his family, he would answered with evasives, probably he didn’t know who he was either
But still you found it odd
You forgot about personal compartments, your group of friends had gotten so big you preferred those open ones with tables on both sides so you could all speak to each other
You had gotten accustomed to being around them all day and even nights, it was going to be a bit sad when you got home, only you, your aunt and some house-elves.
“Are you going to the ball?”, you asked Pansy who was sitting right next to you, as you were seated on the other side of the aisle with the girls
“Yes, my parents were invited”, she muttered
“Mines too”, muttered Daphne
“It will be fun”, you said with a big smile
“Why are you and Draco so close?”, asked Milicent as she leaned in and whispered to you
“We are best friends”, you said softly
“But why?”, she insisted
“We know each other since I can remember, our parents are really close”
“Do you like him?”, she teased
“No”, you answered quickly, “he is my best friend”, all girls were looking straight at you, like they were cornering you, “for real”, you insisted, and that seemed to calm them as they giggle
“I think Theo is really cute, you were so lucky to had that huge project with him”, fanned over Daphne
“I think Matthew is cute”, added Milicent, you were leaning over the table and whispering, so they wouldn’t hear
“I don’t think any of them are”, you said with a sad voice, thinking of Theo
“My mom is having my robes custom made for me”, said Daphne with a soft smile, “for the Christmass ball”
“Really? how lucky! I think we are just going to Madam Malkin”, muttered Pansy
“Lucky you because my mother loves to shop in those muggle stores in central London”, said Milicent
“Some of those stores are nice”, you offered, you really liked muggle fashion sometimes, your aunt would take you in London and you were only able to watch at the showcases, some dresses were truly astonishing
“They are muggles”, she said as that was reason enough
The trip became longer than the one that goes to Hogwarts, it that made any sense
Now that you weren’t at Hogwarts, you wanted to get home already.
“Anything from the trolley?”, asked the sweet old lady, bringing her cart full of sweets
“Uh! me! Do you have any chocolate frogs?”, you asked
“Of course dear”, she said, passing one you exchange for a couple of Sickles
“Thank you”, the boys bought thighs to, you frowned when you looked at the frog, the spell not starting yet
“I’ll do it”, said Draco from the other side, you passed the package, he opened and the frog came to life, before it could jump, he snapped one if its legs to break the spell, not it was just chocolate
He passed it back to you
“Thank you”, he ate the chocolate leg and you ate the rest
“Why?”, asked Parkinson
“I don’t like it when they move, they look too real”, you said simply, “Uh! I got Cirse! I’d always wanted her!”, you admired the ancient witch in that card
Your aunt, as always, was waiting for you
She hugged you tightly, caressing your hair softly, you had missed her 
“Let’s go home”, you greeted the Malfoys, and from afar you could see Theodore, who was being received by an old man, you guessed he was his father.
“We will see you at Christmas”, my aunt muttered, and you started walking. Meek, your house elf appeared, grabbed both your hands, as you had your things in the other hand, and he apparated you back home, as easy as that 
Tea was served for the two of you, with your favorite small sandwiches and pastries
“Now, you will tell me EVERYTHING!”, she said with a wide smile 
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brionysea · 1 year
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possessiongate: explained
i've been vague posting about this for a while, but after mapping everything out i think it's time for a full analysis of stranger things 4 and what's going on with mike wheeler in it
i think vecna is in mike's head. i think mike is being possessed by vecna at certain points in the season, which is why he's suddenly so weird and inconsistent about a lot of things
@dinitride-art’s post on the visuals of mike’s monologue sent me down this rabbit hole, and since going through everything for this explanation with that in mind, i'm now extremely convinced that this is intentional
i’m going to follow mike through the entire season to explain what he's thinking, what's going on in his head in general, and why it's not what the show wants us to think
very lengthy explanation under the cut!
we start in hawkins, with el's letter. it's the first thing we see. the camera only secondarily pans up to mike. then nancy suddenly barges in, seems to snap him out of something, and we immediately get the question "what the hell are you doing?", which mike never actually provides an answer to
in the second shot we get of mike, the sign above his bed is only partially visible. it reads “one w”
one -> vecna
w -> wheeler
there's an almost immediate connection, and it has something to do with el because her letter is still in frame until mike throws it away. vecna intends to use mike against el
when we get a wider view of the room, it's a complete mess. last time we saw mike's room it was immaculate. we can see daylight coming through the window in the mirror ("one way" mirror -> one is watching him without his knowledge) but his lamp is still on, implying he's been up all night
there are a lot of time references surrounding mike in this opening sequence. time -> clocks -> vecna
mike's issue with sleeping (which is later revealed as a sign that vecna is in your head) gets a bit closer to noticeable when he starts to say something that's probably along the lines of him going to bed early not mattering because he won't be able to sleep anyway, but he doesn't get the chance to finish what he wants to say. this happens a lot this season
karen: you need to go to bed early tonight. mike: why? ted: it's a 6:30 flight, michael. mike: yeah, i know, but— karen: no buts. 9 or no california. ted: and no sweetie pie.
they're already hiding mike's thoughts from us. even when we’re seeing things from his point of view, for one reason or another, we’re not allowed to know what he’s thinking despite him actively trying to tell us
ted’s comment brings up el again, further connecting her to the time references and mike’s concerning behaviour
mike is immediately not okay for some reason, from his very first scene, but it’s not in our face like max. it’s hidden. nancy doesn’t comment on the state of his room even though this isn’t normal for him. his parents kind of seem to assume that him trying to brush off his need for sleep is just him being a stubborn teenager. his grades having slipped is told to us through a joke while the same thing with max is pointed out as not normal and a sign that something’s wrong. the characters haven’t noticed, and a good majority of the audience won’t notice either unless they go looking for it. it’s all there, but it's hidden in plain sight
for this first day, mike is 100% mike. this is establishing who he is now, without any active supernatural interference. mike is over the forced conforming of last summer, mike doesn’t care about being popular, mike doesn’t care about girls laughing at him, mike is embracing his love of dungeons and dragons again, mike is shamelessly sending heart eyes the way of the cool older guy who likes dnd and rock music and shows him it’s okay to be different. this is setting up the contrast for when he starts acting like a completely different person later
because of an outside influence in the shape of eddie, mike does a few uncharacteristic things. he ditches lucas and lets someone else lead, instead of leading by example like he usually does and just telling dustin that they’re going to the basketball game anyway. he did fight for lucas in the first place, being the only one who could just say that they needed to postpone, but he gets manipulated in a direction he doesn’t want to go. this really sets the stage for what’s going on with him this season
mike is having headaches. this is another sign of vecna being in his head. i think of it like a physical defence mechanism, a sign from your body that something’s wrong, similar to the nosebleeds since they both stem from the brain. which there’s also a very small hint of when mike does this very subtle sniffing thing while sitting outside with dustin like there’s something tickling his nose
there’s the beginning of mike not really knowing what’s going on
mike: screw what? [...] what? what? dustin, where are you going? [...] come on, just talk to me! tell me things! [...] what are you talking about?
this is new territory. mike usually knows everything for absolutely no reason. he's being removed from his leadership position as the dungeon master and his ability to understand the situation is being messed with. that functionally changes his role, and effectively disables him as a character so that the season can work and vecna can win
they neutralised jonathan so that he couldn't support will and el by making him a stoner. they (vecna) neutralised mike so that he couldn't support will and el by making his mind not his own anymore
during the campaign, an argument starts up. mike doesn't take part until dustin puts his ego on the backseat to ask what mike thinks, reminding us just how smart mike really is and the effect he has on people. especially since his advice works. mike, always being more inclined to fight than run, supports dustin's plan
mike: it's risky as hell. but you're the ones on the battlefield. so it's your call.
this sounds like mike giving advice that he wants to hear himself. specifics of the campaign aside, getting told that he's smart and capable and should trust his own judgement is a major turning point in his character later on
right around the time mike would be meeting his curfew (offscreen, because we're not allowed to see that either) and committing to visiting the byers, vecna moves in for the kill and chrissy dies
mike was supposed to visit the byers months earlier but he didn't for some reason, and them coming back to hawkins for christmas didn't work out either. it's easy to find a reason why, probably money, but mike had already gotten permission from karen at the end of season 3 and money isn't a problem for them. he could have just been doing his avoidance thing, or it could be a play on the pattern of him being late to things, but i'm curious if he subconsciously knew that something bad would happen if he left and held it off as long as he could. considering mike is already acting like someone else when he gets off the plane and his clothes, which he must have put on in hawkins, are used to indicate that, it's possible vecna took control in this offscreen blind spot and made him go. the fact that it took this long for that to happen really is a testament to mike's mental strength
now we’re in california! and mike immediately starts acting weird. he’s wearing sunglasses indoors, which is unnecessary and really stands out. i also get a vibe of implied dishonesty
mike: so i kinda did, like a 70/30 split, kinda thing.
70% vecna. 30% mike. this is absolutely an intentional slip from vecna, since we know he likes just telling people his plans and feeling smug about how clever he is when he still fools them
mike is very weird towards will, which is so unlike him that absolutely everyone picks up on it. mike got over his “ignoring will” issues near the end of season 3. he looked devastated and completely dead inside the day they left hawkins. there is no way that mike, fully in control of himself, would treat will this way after seeing him again for the first time in months
argyle: that's a rad shirt, man. ocean pacific? [...] oh no, no, no. no, it's a shitty knockoff. yeah. but don't worry, i'll get you the good threads out here.
mike shows up acting fake. the dialogue points out that his shirt is fake. and a bad fake, at that, but one that's convincing enough at first glance. you can connect the dots
then argyle brings up nancy and things get awkward, but like most of the romance this season (especially around mike), i think it's meant to distract us
argyle: yeah, this is kinda awkward, man. mike: yeah, so awkward. argyle: i mean, i really thought it was ocean pacific.
it comes right back to the shirt. right back to mike being a fake. one that tricks you unless you look hard enough
things aren’t awkward because of nancy. they’re awkward because this random person who vecna didn't even seem to account for, based on the initial weird look mike gives him that really reminds me of possessed will looking at bob, called out his ploy in two seconds flat without even realising it
vecna has mike play along with the perfect, happy, normal couple ideal that el is aiming for, while simultaneously ignoring will. inevitably it crashes and burns, which vecna was probably counting on, because he knows lies like this never last
mike and will fight. mike's side involves a hurt that's based in not knowing what's going on. he looks confused when will describes the day they both just lived through (this will not be the last time this happens) and tries to just... leave the conversation. because he doesn't know what to say. because he doesn't know what will's talking about. this whole day was mostly from will’s point of view and doesn’t even touch mike’s, so we don’t even know what, exactly, mike is confused about or what he thought was happening
but will doesn’t let him walk away
will: you're mad that i didn't talk to you? seems like you made it super clear that you're not interested in anything i have to say. mike: that's just not true. will: you called maybe a couple times. it's been a year, mike. meanwhile el has like a book of letters from you.
we know mike cares what will has to say. he cares a lot. all he does this season is listen to what will has to say
it also hasn’t been a year. it’s been six months, tops. but mike and will stick to this even when most other characters talk about it normally. the only real time period in the show that matches up with what they’re saying was between seasons 1 and 2. before will got possessed. before will and mike spent an entire season joined at the hip while mike provided emotional support against the possession. which is exactly what happens in season 4, just in reverse
one line near the end of the fight hints towards mike already knowing something's wrong, despite being pretty majorly influenced by vecna for the majority of the day
mike: why... why am i the bad guy?
if this is mike — which, considering it sounds like he has to fight to say it, i think it is — it's possible that he saw/found the double meaning in argyle's comment earlier. he glanced down at his shirt when he heard it and didn’t really know how to respond to it
we saw how mike dressed just one episode ago, one day ago, and it wasn't like this. the outfit is used as an indication that something's wrong with mike. the logic of the clothes being unlike him probably opened up the floodgates for his intuition, which we know doesn't have to make logical sense for him to trust it
i’m dead certain that el heard this fight. she heard angela's group perfectly when they were a similar distance away from her, and she has a habit of hearing mike whether he wants her to or not. she seems to have very good hearing in general, possibly because of the way she was born. el knowing this will pop up again later
vecna manipulates mike's reaction to el schmacking angela, which mike notably seems confused about later and can't coherently explain. this part was very, very obvious. even casual viewers picked up on this reaction not matching up with mike’s prior reactions to el dealing with bullies
because of this preoccupation with mike, vecna has to pretty much speedrun fred's visions as this big chunk that takes long enough for the sun to set because he didn't have time to spread them out over the day like he did with chrissy. there was one individual vision, but it was relatively brief and wouldn't have left mike to his own devices for too long
this was most likely happening during the period where everyone was standing around rinkomania, on the drive home, and spilling into the dinner scene, because mike's stormy, silent judgement and bitchy glares are the most in character thing he's done in california so far
the byers and guests have dinner. mike seems normal at first, although there is another hint of a nosebleed. he quickly realises that murray's hiding something and gets visibly suspicious about it, he's still unimpressed by jonathan and argyle's shenanigans, and he instinctively questions joyce's last minute business trip but keeps his thoughts to himself, probably because he doesn't fully understand the situation and also likes and respects the byers too much to start a scene at the dinner table when he's a guest in their home. we saw this behaviour during eddie's campaign, the choice to not involve himself unless called upon while a whole lot's going on around him. this is all mike
and then mike starts a scene at the dinner table when he's a guest in their home
vecna must have jumped back shortly after killing fred. something switches, and suddenly mike's not acting like mike anymore
he makes a totally uncalled for, passive aggressive comment that upsets el further in response to jonathan and argyle trying to make her feel better. that happened on the drive home too, and while mike rolled his eyes at them, that's because they were ridiculously high and acting like it. he didn't have a problem with them being nice to el ten minutes ago. it comes completely out of nowhere. there was no indication he was even that upset about the angela incident prior to this. if anything he was thinking about his fight with will
el visibly finds mike's comment confusing for a second before she leaves to beat herself up in her bedroom, making it the second time in one day she's thought mike was acting wrong. and she's right to think that. mike only ever makes comments like this to el or will in the heat of the moment because they get special treatment. a chill family dinner where mike was previously minding his own business is not equivalent to el throwing lucas through the air and knocking him unconscious
mike doesn't eat at dinner. he's shown playing with his food and will is shown noticing it. argyle must have too because of something that happens later. mike has always done this when he's upset, dating all the way back to the first episode, but in this context it seems to be representative of him resisting something. it reminds me of his implied resistance to sleep too
joyce is confused by what’s going on, probably referring to jonathan and mike’s behaviour specifically. murray, the expert Seer of Things, watches el leave with mild surprise and then immediately looks straight at mike
murray: okay, i, uh, i sense tension. is it the risotto? everyone hates the risotto?
this is a joke, but mike is pointedly not eating the risotto in the same scene as he suddenly starts acting like a different person. it was a targeted comment. the tension is within mike. it's vecna fighting for control of mike's mind
jonathan and argyle, however, have only positive things to say about the risotto. this topic of food (in relation to mike) will pop back up later
now we’re onto the part of how and when vecna kills people that probably stumped robin when she tried to find a pattern to it. why they got an extra day to figure out max was in danger. it’s because vecna had to make sure mike wouldn’t fix things with el first. he’s still keeping an eye on the home team, because he starts opening the first gate the second they leave the trailer park, but el is his priority
mike mopes at breakfast. he still isn't eating. he's still resisting. will is still noticing, which is promising in terms of mike eventually getting help on this. but for now he loses again, just like last night, and he ends up chasing after el. he brings her food too, which as it currently stands is not a good thing. she doesn’t eat either, and i doubt she would have even if he’d brought cutlery
mike seems really confused during their conversation. he trails off a lot and talks himself in circles. it really stands out because it's so different from his usual speech patterns
el: you think i'm a monster too. mike: what? el: yesterday. the way you looked at me. you... you were scared of me. mike: no. no. no, that's not... that's... that's not true. i was surprised. maybe i was a little upset in the moment, but i mean... i'm sorry. i just... i didn't know what to do.
no mention of his comment at dinner. it's almost like he doesn't even remember saying it. he retroactively confirms that he didn't care that much about what happened once the shock wore off. and i cannot stress enough that he is so, so confused. this isn't about no one telling him anything anymore. he was there. he should know what he's talking about. but he doesn't
it sounds like he's seriously fighting to get the words out again, but cranked up to a hundred. this is probably why max got so much extra time. because mike is stubborn as hell, and every single season demonstrates how his true strength lies in his mind, and it probably took a lot of vecna’s focus to force him into upsetting el when we know how much he cares about her and he seems to be actively fighting it. it takes mike five tries to even start to say "that's not true," the same thing he said to will yesterday. but it’s such a minor detail, and they’re overshadowing it all with the love triangle drama, so it’s easy to miss
mike is usually so confident and so level headed and so silver tongued that he can get full grown adults like hopper to respect and listen to him in a crisis, so hearing him trip over his words like this is ringing major alarm bells. el looks confused by the way he's acting again because mike is truly gifted at quickly understanding and explaining situations. he's slightly worse off when they concern his feelings, but he's not this bad. the only way he'd be acting like this is if his ability to understand what's going on has been internally tampered with
the uncharacteristic hesitancy and confusion lingers for most of the scene, but it lets up a lot after "i say it" and entirely disappears by the end, where this really patronising tone comes in to fill its place that doesn't sound like mike at all. he calls el ridiculous, he tries to make her think she's making things up, he brushes off her feelings, he deflects. mike does not do this in conflicts with el. mike avoids. and mike has far more respect for el than this
mike: what, like... what is this? you know what i think of you.
this directly leads into mike externally basing el's self worth on being incredible and special and a superhero, which directly contradicts the information we already have about mike's thoughts on el's powers that they're actively drawing our attention to
in season 3, mike was the one person saying that el shouldn't have to use her powers. that she shouldn't be obligated to sacrifice everything for her friends. that she's more than a superhero or a machine. that she's a person who's worthy of protecting whether she's saving them or not. and he followed through on that when she initially lost her powers: he flipped the car when she couldn't, he made a plan to get her and max to safety and tried to protect her from vecna when they were trapped in starcourt, and months later he got a teddy bear down from the high shelf for her when she couldn't get it herself. there was no hint of mike's view of el potentially changing without her powers. none. and this show is very good at foreshadowing, so that absence is very conspicuous
the tail end of this speech doesn't sound anything like mike. there's a reason he sounds like he's fighting it
but you know who it does sound like? vecna. the guy who thinks every other human being is an unimportant nobody. the guy who says that brenner didn't matter because he was ordinary. the guy who thinks that el is on his level, whether that's as an apprentice or an enemy, because of how special and incredible and superpowered she is. the guy who wants to kill el's friends while she watches, or kill her while they watch, as punishment for turning against him. and he can't do any of that if she doesn't remember him, and she can't remember him until she's pushed into thinking that she's worthless without her powers, which is exactly what mike is putting into her head in this scene despite that not being how he sees her at all
the police interrupt before mike can get his head sorted out, and we get this
mike: everything's gonna be fine. i am going to fix this. okay? just... just stay calm and everything's gonna be fine. okay? just... all you have to do is trust me. i promise. i'm gonna get you out. i promise!
like to his advice to dustin, i think this reveals what's going on in mike's head. el doesn't want reassurance that everything will be okay. el doesn't need to be told not to panic. she's not the one panicking right now. these are all things that mike needs to hear
which implicitly makes "i'm gonna get you out" a lot more interesting. it applies to el, because she's getting arrested and later trapped by brenner, but how does it apply to mike? what does he need out of? what does he need rescuing from?
vecna focuses on max much later, after el doesn't return home and confirms that she's on her way to getting her powers and memories back. they try to hide it with the episode break, but mike immediately starts acting more like himself. he gets into an individual standoff with an authority figure representing the american government in like five minutes. that's the most mike wheeler thing he could possibly do
mike: so, what? we're just supposed to trust that you're the good guys? whoever you are?
this is mike in control of his own mind, mike who's finally acting like himself again, and he's telling us not to blindly trust anyone just because they're supposedly a good guy. he's telling us not to trust him, just like el didn't seem to earlier. because he doesn't trust himself right now. because he's been acting like someone else. if there's one thing mike is stellar at, it's tactical calls like this. this is exactly what happened when will was possessed
mike retreats upstairs to read el's letter, isolating himself. that particular habit becomes something very interesting in a little bit
dear mike, i have gone to become a superhero again. from, el
he realises that his words pushed el towards this decision, that he's the reason she chose to go back to some version of the lab, and he starts to wonder why the hell he said any of it. this kind of implies that what he said downstairs was entirely based on intuitive, subconscious knowledge, since he was pretty focused on the situation in front of him, and seeing something solid and tangible that proves there’s merit to the idea of something being wrong with him just kicked his brain into high gear
mike’s still very present in the hawkins part of the story during dear billy. they’re in mike’s space, and the way they’re hanging out without him there and not even trying to think of a plan makes his absence really obvious. max writes him a letter. max says his name twice, either independently of anyone else’s or before them. he appears in max's memory montage
we see the basement for the first time this season and it's as bad as his room. the lighting is much darker and less homey than before, there's no natural light, and the mess makes it feel claustrophobic when it’s actually a very open space. it's hard not to think that this is meant to be a physical representation of what's going on in mike's mind
as for what mike's actually doing, he has a clear head for the first time since he landed in california because vecna doesn't need to use him to mess with el anymore, and he's using it to question his own actions and words and why they don't reflect what he actually thinks
will: i… i just don't think they've actually thought this through. if this goes on for a month, or months, and people can't get a hold of us, they're gonna totally freak out. meanwhile my mom's probably having a panic attack already.
this is said by a rambling, pacing will, while mike sits on the edge of the bed, not moving, staring a hole through el's letter. it's the next day, and he's still hung up on it. he still can't figure out why he called el a superhero. this is a different type of anxiety than we've seen from mike before, because when mike is anxious he's usually the one pacing non-stop until everyone is annoyed with him. we saw that behaviour from him just last night, so he hasn't just dropped it
mike paces when he wants to fix an external problem. the fact that he's not moving at all here suggests that this is an internal one
the joyce mention can only be indicative of mike's mental space, because joyce isn't that anxious at all this season. certainly not enough to be reminiscent of a panic attack. this isn't foreshadowing for joyce, it's utilising the similarities between her and mike to tell us what he's on the edge of until will pulls him out of it
the idea of a problem lasting for months is interesting too, because threats from the upside down usually last for about a week. i think it's meant to indicate that what mike is quietly freaking out about has been going on for months, and that it’s connected to what's happening in hawkins
mike: before the cops came, me and el, we had a bad fight. we never fight. [...] but, i don’t know, this one just felt more adult.
when they got interrupted, they weren't talking about mike's inability to say he loves el. they were talking about el being a superhero
mike's confused as he says they never fight, which backs up el's confusion over his comment at dinner and his own confusion during the fight in question as mike not being in control during that conflict. this isn’t normal behaviour, and mike’s the one who started it so mike’s not normal right now
the adult comment is really telling too. it felt more adult because it was more adult, because there was an adult involved. vecna was involved
mike: and maybe i should've said something, and if i would've said that thing, then maybe she'd want me there with her. wherever she is.
the show wants us to think he's talking about the romantic conflict. but if what he's thinking about is the idea of breaking up with el, and what he's thinking about has him on the verge of a panic attack, then it can't be el because we've seen his reaction to breaking up with her before and he was totally fine. what they’re telling us is going on in mike’s head makes no sense at all
this is a trick. just like mike’s fake shirt. they're distracting us with the relationship drama and letting us assume that it's about el or will as we please, while mike never specifies that that's what he's talking about
he means the main bulk of the letter. he's talking about calling el a superhero instead of telling her what he actually thinks which is that she doesn't need powers to have worth. he's on the verge of a panic attack because he doesn't know why he said that, because he feels like he's losing his mind again, and because it physically drove el away to get her powers back at the same time as bad things are happening in hawkins. that combination usually leads to el endangering herself and mike protesting, so him driving her to it without even meaning to is definitely panic-worthy
will tells mike that he can see el again and say whatever he wants to say then, but mike clearly isn't convinced. he's not reassured. he doesn't want to hear that he's going to see el again. he doesn't actually want el to have taken him with her. because being near el means uncontrollably saying something he doesn't believe that hurts her again. this is the start of mike wanting to distance himself from el to protect her
mike significantly perks up when joking around/flirting with will and after jonathan makes the plan for them to go to hawkins (away from el), which leads into possibly the most mike scene in this entire season: the bedroom heart to heart with will
will: you're packed already? mike: yeah, i mean, i never really unpacked. thanks, by the way. will: for what? mike: for knocking some sense into me. i mean, i was being a total self-pitying idiot.
there's... a lot going on here. they bring up mike's emotional baggage and then almost immediately have him brush off his panic (a near panic attack, remember) from earlier that he never actually dealt with. both of their reactions support what i was saying earlier, that it would be ridiculous if mike was that panicked over el. not even el being in danger, just a fight with el
will definitely did the right thing by pulling mike out of that spiral and it makes sense that mike would thank him for that, but he was still thinking about it at the end of that scene before he got distracted by jonathan's plan. mike is still bottling things up. there are still things about mike that are being hidden from us
mike attributes his change in mood to will, which isn't entirely wrong. support systems do make a difference in fighting off possession, as seen with the shed scene back in season 2, and mike was instrumental in bringing will back so the opposite is most likely true. but the fact is that it isn't just will, it's that vecna isn't actively using mike anymore, and it’s that mike thinks he’s going to hawkins where he won’t be able to hurt el so he can stop worrying about it for now
mike: hey, also, about the last few days...
it was incredibly intentional that mike didn't get to finish this sentence. it would have told us too much if he did. getting an insight into what mike’s version of the first two days in california looked like would probably answer a lot of questions
mike gets distracted by will's inability to accept an apology, going against his prior, uncharacteristic behaviour of apparently noticing how will was feeling but not really doing anything about it, and we get likely the same information we would have but framed in a different way
mike: listen, the truth, is the last year has been weird, you know?
presumably he's just being dramatic again and actually means the time since the byers moved, but that's still a long time. and if things have been weird in the same way that the last few days have been weird, where he’s constantly confused and not acting like himself and not knowing what’s going on at all, that has some really sinister implications
will nods in response, because he does know. will knows what it's like to be possessed. he knows what it's like to have someone else in your head. he knows what it's like to feel like you're going crazy. he knows what it's like when someone else is using you to hurt the people you care about
mike says he feels like he was focusing too much on el and that he lost will in the process. vecna was using mike to upset el. he was pushing her where he wants her to go on the chess board. he was pushing her into remembering him so that when he tortures her he'll get the full satisfaction out of it. mike wasn't allowed to focus on will because vecna wouldn't get anything out of that
the way mike mends his relationship with will here by just being himself and caring is exactly what vecna was trying to avoid by not letting mike talk to el
they get knocked off course by the shootout, plans change, and their new goal is to find a way to el
vecna continues to leave mike alone, focusing on patrick and the nosy teenagers that are poking around his house. he wants the cali crew (and mike specifically) to find el, and just letting mike do his thing is the easiest way to make that happen
when argyle starts freaking out in the desert, mike realises while standing over an open grave that not only did his words send el away, they could directly lead to her death if anything happens to her. and he still has no clue why the fuck he said that. he freezes up again (continued indication that this is an internal conflict within his mind) as he gets caught up in that thought spiral, because he didn't actually resolve it before despite what he said to will. during their conversation on top of the car, mike connects the mystery of unknown hero agent man’s dying (lack of) words to his own situation
why didn't he just say the number? -> what the hell was going on with mike in the monster/superhero fight?
because mike still can't figure it out. he still doesn't know why he couldn’t just tell el what he thinks of her
mike: i should've explained myself. maybe then eleven would've taken me with her and things would be different, but i... will: no. mike: i didn't know what to say.
there's the reoccurring oddity of mike being uncharacteristically lost again. he didn't know what to say because he didn't know what was going on, and he still doesn't understand the fight or the things he said or why he lied right to el's face
the idea that things would be different if that fight had gone differently is an interesting thing to bring up. they're telling us it's important. the things mike said in that scene are important. if mike wasn't neutralised like this, things would be different. that's why vecna couldn't let him run wild and still entertain any idea of success
i think what they’re really getting at is if mike was able to give el a stronger hint that something’s wrong. because el is very clever, and i do believe that she figures it out near the end of the season, but it would’ve made a significant difference if she got it just a few days earlier
will: i think it's just scary to open up like that. to say how you really feel. especially to the people you care about the most. because what if they don't like the truth?
queercoding aside, that last question really freaks me out within this context. because yes, it was the 80s, but good people existed in the 80s. good people have always existed. our cast of main characters is made up of good people. none of them would hate mike for being queer, even if it's a very understandable fear for him to have. but if mike was unwittingly giving information to vecna? if he was used to push vecna's plans into motion? if he was used to cause the downfall of hawkins?
that's a much, much scarier thing to think about. because i find it more plausible that people would be angry at him for that. mike could easily think so too, even if it's not his fault. he'd certainly blame himself
then mike finds the coordinates, figures out what NINA is, and has the idea to go to suzie for help
the assumption that NINA is a phone -> the assumption that what mike wants to say is that he loves el
the reality that NINA is a computer -> the reality that what mike wants to say is that el doesn't need to have powers or be a superhero to matter
mike: now i don’t know if NINA’s a computer like joshua or owens’ lab, but unknown hero agent man, he gave us access to it for a reason. we just need to find the computer. we find owens, then we warn him. then we warn eleven. i just need a hacker.
this is a coded way for them to talk about what’s going on with mike through the connection they established between the number and the superhero fight. he doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but he knows that it’s happening for a reason. he needs to find out what the situation is and then warn el. and he can do that by going to suzie
mike’s headache from the first episode makes a reappearance when they get there. vecna’s still in his head, just dormant. mike lies flawlessly with will, in contrast to dustin, lucas and max doing a very bad job of it. they’re reminding us that mike is good at lying to make us look closer at the things he’s been saying
suzie: i’m really sorry. truly. but it looks like you came all the way here for nothing. unless… mike: unless? suzie: there might be a way. but we’re gonna need help. and i mean a lot of help.
they said that mike would find answers at suzie’s house. this is it. the scene cuts to karen looking for the kids and running down into the basement right after this, which is looking good for their relationship growing stronger next season
mike came here looking for a computer, and they end up needing suzie’s father’s computer, which is locked up in his study. they use the help from before to distract him, sneak in, and start looking for answers
jonathan: maybe it’s hidden in the code somehow? mike: what you just said makes no sense. suzie: hold your butts. i’ll just trace the IP.
someone’s going to overcomplicate the situation because mike’s head has so much constantly going on in it that even a certified genius like suzie has an initial “what is all this?” reaction to it when she sees the mountains of code on the real world equivalent. but there’s going to be a really simple solution that most of them were too overwhelmed to think of immediately
the cali crew succeed, so whatever this section is foreshadowing in season 5, it’s going to work. much better than the similar plan of this season. there are a million more distractions, everyone gets out unharmed, and the person who locked up the computer is none the wiser at the end
even with the coordinates, they have a hard time finding NINA. mike and will are on the same page but jonathan insists on rechecking the map. it's right, and they remind us that mike said as much. we should trust what he's thinking about something being wrong with him and we should trust the coded solution he just found
argyle is the one who actually finds the trail, so for some reason he's going to be really important to fixing this problem
back in hawkins, vecna plays mind games with nancy and uses her as a messenger for el too. apparently that's just a thing for the plot relevant wheelers
then there's the painting scene. which i think vecna was listening in on, but i don’t think he was influencing it
the answers they found at suzie's were that mike needs help. will gives him help when he starts spiralling about the closing distance between him and el, real help that actually gets through to him, by reminding him of who he fundamentally is. when mike is literally losing himself, that makes all the difference
the scene is also very visually similar to when will was possessed. will is being absolutely smothered in light from the window, because he's mike's light, the one max says you have to hide in to escape vecna, and when the shed scene turned into a time skip montage mike was lit in a similar way
mike: i mean, she’s special. she was born special. maybe i was one of the first people to realise that.
this doesn’t make any sense unless it’s mike looking back into vecna’s mind without realising, because it’s just not true for mike but it is something vecna would think. he was talking about how el was born special (like him) just last episode. he’s the one who told her the secret to making her powers stronger because he saw himself in her
if you zoom in on what mike’s saying, you get “maybe i was one”. was. past tense, when el was nearby. now he’s mike again
when nancy delivers the message for el, it includes seeing mike dead. vecna definitely knows who he is and he's in danger
then we find out, through el, that mike did try to call will. he tried to call him a lot. enough that dustin was sick of hearing about it
dustin: i told you, joyce has this telemarketer job. she's always on the phone. mike won't stop whining about it.
so why didn't mike say as much in their rinkomania fight? he'll complain to dustin but not to will? he was defending himself, saying it's not solely on him to maintain that relationship, so why wouldn't he say something along the lines of "at least i tried," because we all know mike can get harsh in arguments with will that he thinks are unfair
why would mike say that will should have reached out more but not say that he did try to reach out himself? he told el that he called her every night for 353 days without any hesitation, so he doesn't think admitting to that kind of thing is embarrassing. he wanted el to know that he missed her. he protested when will said he deserved the way he was treated during that argument. he wasn't afraid of will knowing how much he cares because he started shamelessly flirting and told will that hawkins isn't the same without him like two days after their fight, once he started acting like himself again
and that's the problem. because it wasn't fully mike at that point. all he could get out was "that's just not true," which was calling on our pre-existing knowledge of him to piece things together
which is exactly what el starts doing. she has a lot on her mind, but she's noticed all of mike’s odd behaviour already. this is just another thing that's so blatantly contradictory that it pushes her towards really questioning where all of it is coming from. she knows this doesn't make sense. if she heard mike and will arguing about the calls she heard mike say that he was the bad guy. that was the very first hint mike seemed to be trying to give anyone that something was wrong with him, the first real effort he made to warn them, despite not fully knowing what he was warning them of. and el's figuring it out. this perfectly matches up with what jonathan said at suzie's about the answers being hidden in the code, and with mike’s goal of warning el
we get our second elmike reunion of the season, and it's right this time. el gives him a once over when she first sees him, and she seems to realise very quickly that this is actually mike. his smile looks real. he’s wearing his signature colour. he hugs el the way he usually does. they do their cute little forehead touch thing that we saw in starcourt after vecna almost killed her. he's not wearing unnecessary sunglasses. he's not ignoring will
in contrast to the shitty knockoff comment from the airport reunion, we get this
el: oh, mike. is it really you? mike: it's me. i'm here. el: okay.
that's the most "loved one fighting off possession" dialogue ever. and there's no reason el would ask that question if she hadn't realised that he's been not mike at some point, because el isn't a character like mike or joyce or hopper or will who's had problems with not knowing what's real before
this is confirmation that despite vecna's interference, mike is still here. this is will speaking through morse code and just saying the word "here" after being given strength by mike and his family, just like mike was given strength by will. and el looks so happy about it that it suddenly makes me as emotional as the willel reunion does
then we get into the piggyback, which i think has some layers to it as an episode title. it's been said a lot that vecna's like el. not just that he has powers like her or that he's from the lab like her, but that he's like her. it's incredibly easy for me to believe that they think similarly enough to have the same ideas. using mike to get to el could be described as piggybacking
el came up with it by remembering the times she's gone into people's minds to find the source of why they changed. i think this could be part of the solution to getting mike back. it matches up with what suzie said about tracing the IP address. el will have to go into mike's mind to help him, finally letting us see everything that's been going on with him throughout the whole show. mike's role in the party is sharing vital information, so it wouldn't surprise me if he spies back on vecna like will did, especially since that was mike's idea in the first place, or shows el the way to find max or vecna's weakness
it's interesting that they keep calling it a mind fight too, because that doesn't really make me think of a fight in the mind. it sounds like a fight for the mind. and that's definitely not what happens with max, because her life is at stake, not her mind
over in russia, the adults finally hear about what’s going on
hopper: she said the doc's with the girl. and the girl went off to fight some evil in hawkins. then they all went off-grid. the doc, the girl, everybody. [...] and they're not alone. joyce's kids are with them.
mike isn't included in the group that's fighting vecna. this omission makes sense for argyle, because hopper doesn't know he exists and joyce has no reason to think he'd be with them, but there's no way in hell that mike would leave el or will in the middle of this. joyce knows that. joyce has seen firsthand how stubborn he is when will is in danger, and hopper came around to him being the same way with el by the end of season 3
i don't think this is a character thing. joyce only briefly saw mike acting weird at dinner after months of being nowhere near him and that isn't really enough to figure anything out, even for her. i think it was a very conspicuous decision for the writers to not align him with the strictly good guys’ side when they had the opportunity to
argyle making a pizza is included in the preparing for battle montage. it's funny, but it also implies that whatever happens with that pizza will be important to defeating vecna
then el and mike get their first real conversation. when mike puts the pizza box glasses on and confirms that they work, el is watching him like she's looking for something. it's only when he starts goofing around, like when he joked about his singing or made fun of himself with the M&Ms in season 3, that el relaxes and starts giggling and looking absurdly happy again. this is the way mike always tries to make el laugh. it's nothing like the lame socks joke from rinkomania
mike is literally in the dark. he can't see what's going on. el can
el: mike. mike: yeah? el: i… missed you. mike: yeah. yeah, i missed you too.
el is weighing her words very carefully. she doesn't know how much she can say to mike yet. and it really sounds like they've missed each other for longer than the few days separation, because they haven't really been together like this in months
from there mike brings up the monster/superhero fight again, and el just listens. she's feeling him out, waiting to see if he has some kind of explanation for what was going on there. because he was back to himself in the reunion scene, he was back to worrying about her safety and being relieved when she's okay. that was completely at odds with the superhero comment
argyle shows up with his pizza before mike can apologise or tell el that she doesn't need to act like a superhero for him to care about her. the pizza is for mike, it turns out, but he doesn't want it
and he shouldn't, right? wasn't food bad?
el: good. mike: it's good? what do you mean it's good? el: really good. mike: that's insane. that's blasphemous.
mike seems to think so. but then argyle and el conspire against him (and the fact that they're worried enough about him to make him eat something in the first place is really telling of how much trouble he's in), and he admits defeat and accepts more help
mike: okay, okay! no, you're right. it's good.
el says the pizza is good. jonathan and argyle said the risotto was good. will was eating at breakfast
mike wasn't eating the risotto when he disappeared and someone else filled his place. mike wasn't eating breakfast before he went up to el's bedroom and someone else filled his place. mike wasn't eating back in season 2 while his parents listed off all the ways he's bad and horrible, fundamentally, as a person. mike wasn't eating in the first episode when his parents said that he shouldn't look for will. nancy told mike that the things he likes to eat are disgusting in season 1
it was never about vecna. the food is mike. admitting that the food is good is admitting that he is good
el knows this. will knows this. jonathan knows this. argyle knows this, and he's only known mike for a week. the entire party knows this. dustin, lucas, joyce, max. even karen's catching on. ted thinks the game mike likes is lame and for nerds, but that it being called pure evil is ridiculous. nancy cried when she saw a vision of mike's dead body and used the desire to keep that from becoming reality as fuel to keep fighting
dustin told mike not to jump off the quarry. el always finds the strength to save mike. steve saved him in the tunnels. max freaked out when she thought he was dead at starcourt
mike constantly throws himself into dangerous situations with no care for his own safety. he put himself at high risk of getting shot during the shootout by physically shielding the others because he thought that would be better than will or jonathan getting shot, which jonathan had to put a stop to
everyone knows that mike wheeler is worth it. they're just waiting for him to catch up
that's what mike needs to beat this. he needs to realise that he, mike wheeler, is worth fighting for, exactly as he is. that his continued existence in this world is worth preserving. that he can't let himself disappear. fighting for his friends isn't enough, he has to fight for himself
here’s where we get into the mind fight, which mike isn’t really apart of, so there shouldn’t be a lot to say. right?
vecna: you think i don't see what you're doing? memory max: is mike a good kisser? vecna: you think i don't see everything?
no, it turns out there’s this very conspicuous placement of a mike mention in this part of the story. the dialogue in the memory montages this episode matter, and max's first one in the running up that hill scene had barely any dialogue because words don't seem to be the point for her. the point is the togetherness and joy and sense of belonging from having fun with her friends. if the point of that memory is el laughing, they could have just had that. they didn't have to include the line about mike right in the middle of vecna saying he sees everything, but they did. because vecna is watching mike, and watching el through mike
el was giving the cali crew updates the whole time she was looking for max. vecna only came for max when el said she was getting close so that he wouldn’t kill max too soon
into the red mind soup world we go! vecna monologues, tells el she's the monster, says that the whole point of this was for her to watch max die
vecna: all i needed was someone to open the door. and you did that for me. without even realising it. didn't you? and when you did realise, you chose to resist.
this would work perfectly if you put mike in this scene. mike was used to open the door to get el here. mike didn't know what he was doing. mike doesn't even need to fully realise what's happening to resist it
and now, we’ve finally reached the infamous monologue
mike asks if el can hear him a lot. the answer is yes, but she can't tell him. she can't tell him because of the vines. she can't tell him that she knows what he's been trying to say all week because mike isn't just mike anymore
mike: el? i don't know if you can hear this, but… but if you can, i want you to know i'm here, okay? i'm right here.
more confirmation that mike hasn't disappeared yet. that he's still in there. that there's still hope
then he starts getting into all the obvious lies. but the thing is, i don't think they're lies, because i don't think mike is the one saying them. mike is a good liar. vecna is giving the monologue. which means it's not a lie, it's just not true. and mike looks like he's fighting it the whole time. this is where the alternate interpretation of what a mind fight is comes in
at the end of season 3, max and mike were the ones with el when vecna chased her through starcourt. they tried to protect her from vecna. they stalled long enough to keep el from getting skewered and for joyce to close the gate. now el is trapped, max is being killed in front of her, and mike is monologuing down from the sky and making her cry. they are both being used to hurt el
el knows that mike hasn't loved her since the day they met, because she heard him say he wanted to send her back to pennhurst that first night. el knows that mike can live without her (if not happily), because he made it a whole year into her disappearance but less than a week into will's. el knows that mike's life didn't start the day he met her, because he tried to end it a few days later when she ran off and took any hope of finding will with her
it's not until mike calls el a superhero again that she realises exactly what's happening
el's reaction to mike saying he can't lose her looks like she's thinking the exact same thing. she knows something's wrong with mike, and she doesn't want to lose him either, because he was one of the first friends she ever made and she doesn't want him to disappear
mike starts parroting what brenner said about flying and moving mountains, and el looks angry. she looks at vecna, looming ominously over max, not lifting a finger to stop mike's supposedly good monologue. and then she's able to pull away from the vines
mike was a distraction. mike was keeping el from breaking away sooner and saving max and hawkins
this is what they meant by forced conformity killing the kids. mike didn't choose to conform to society's expectations of the nature of his relationship with el, he was forced into it. and max died because of it
max's plan didn't work. nancy's plan didn't work. el's plan didn't work. dustin's plan didn't work
joyce's plan did. joyce caught vecna off guard again. and it worked because she didn't tell the kids what she found out about hopper. mike had no clue what she was doing. he didn't know she was involved, and vecna distracted him before he could figure it out by himself
vecna screwed himself over. because despite all the posturing about being the superior specimen, vecna is not as smart as mike. that's why mike had to be free to find el. because mike is better than him. mike has foiled his evil plans over and over and over again. even now, when vecna's supposed to have total control, mike managed to warn el when he was only at 30% control against vecna's 70%, and he did it in a way where vecna doesn't even know she knows. vecna screwed himself over letting mike have even that much, because mike is better than him, whether he likes it or not
the gates opening -> mike urging el to wake up -> el reviving max
once again, mike is right in the middle of things that are happening because of vecna despite supposedly having nothing to do with it
the fact that he's crying is also a massive red flag. he's one of the most emotionally closed off characters on the show. he only cries when something's seriously wrong
he really is terrified of losing el, and he's spent the better part of the past week trying to figure out why he said something he didn't mean that pushed her into danger, and he just said a bunch more stuff he didn't mean, and she hasn't woken up yet, and if she never does it'll be his fault
two days later, mike is back to himself. the first thing he does is hug karen
karen: you are never going on vacation again, you hear me? in fact, you can forget about college. you are staying right here.
there’s more of mike being “here,” officially adding karen to the list of people who will probably be fighting for him in season 5
then we cut to jonathan and nancy
jonathan: this isn't an earthquake. i know. i know a lot more than you think. nancy: how? we've been trying to call you— jonathan: i know. i know, i'm sorry. we just couldn't risk contact. nancy: "we couldn't risk contact"? jonathan: hey, hey. i'll tell you everything, okay? i promise.
we know jonathan's very perceptive. jonathan sees things that people try to hide. jonathan's been with mike all week, jonathan's seen everything, and jonathan's hinting at having more answers than anyone would expect
i honestly think he has the best frame of reference for mike's normal behaviour. he's known him since he was five, he's older than him so has a better memory of certain points of his life (as illustrated by the toy up the nose story that will only vaguely remembered), and he didn't stop paying attention to him the second he stopped being cuter than his baby sister like the wheelers did
at the hospital, mike is in the same room as lucas for a grand total of ten seconds before lucas notices that something’s wrong with him
i can't for the life of me figure out what tipped him off. i have no idea what's going through his head or why he gives mike such a suspicious look, similar to el's from the pizza box glasses conversation. mike can't see lucas as he realises something’s wrong because it's during the hug, just like he couldn't see el before, which means that vecna can't see that they're onto him either
i'm confident that he was 100% mike at this point (with vecna still in his head, just dormant again), but the effect it's had on him is apparently still extremely noticeable to the people who know him very well
mike didn't seem to know that el brought max back to life. she didn't tell him, and she doesn't explain now either. he'll have to be in the dark on basically everything in season 5 for them to stand a chance, up until the point where they get him back properly, which is a major problem because mike is instrumental to figuring things out and making plans. hawkins literally fell apart without him
will looks concerned when he finds out how messy mike has gotten from nancy’s lighthearted jab about his bedroom. it seems like a lot of different people are collecting a lot of different pieces that they'll have to put their heads together to make sense of
when nancy talks to jonathan one on one again, they continue to hide what’s going on with mike behind the relationship drama. she says that she's glad jonathan was with mike first and will second, kind of as an afterthought, which is another hint towards jonathan knowing what's going on with mike
while they’re cleaning up the cabin, el not talking to mike goes from implicit to textual
will: did she… talk to you at all? mike: not much. i mean, a little bit.
this is exactly what jonathan was talking about. team hawkins was trying to call the byers, but they couldn't risk contact in case the government was listening. mike has been trying to call the byers, but they can't risk contact in case vecna is listening
i’m pretty sure this is what mike was going for in the first place. the idea of distancing himself from the group and el specifically. it’s exactly the kind of move he would pull, and it’s funny that they ended up going with what was originally mike’s plan because it’s just the best course of action. he came up with it days ahead of anyone else, based mostly on instinct and not the evidence that el and jonathan needed to collect over the week to figure it out
will: it's strange, knowing now who it was this whole time, but…
the camera is focused on mike as will says this. half of his face is in shadow, which conveys a sense of duplicity
we cut away for a second, but it comes back to mike for will to say that vecna won't stop until he's taken everything. vecna will likely try to completely take over mike's mind. possibly as a replacement body, because he knows they wouldn’t dare try the molotov cocktail trick when killing him means killing mike too. this matches up with what happened in season 2 and joyce's fear that will would cease to exist as the possession grew stronger
then the adults show up and mike gets an individual reunion with hopper, which kind of visually parallels the one with karen
hopper: you’ve grown. mike: yeah. you shrunk.
hopper’s comment puts him on the team of people who will be fighting to get mike back in season 5 too. staying “here” is connected to growth, and he’s happy to see that mike has grown, and he’s going to want him to keep doing that
mike’s part is more of the same of their dynamic from the start of season 3. mike is being annoying to show affection because hopper is one of the few adults he feels safe enough to act like an obnoxious teenager around. but hopper doesn’t get mad about it this time, he gets this fond smile on his face and initiates the hug. this is one more thing that mike’s been conditioned to think is bad about himself getting treated as good instead
hopper was vitally important to figuring out will’s possession. he was the first person joyce called and he’s the one who always figured out what will was saying when he found unconventional ways to communicate like through drawings or morse code. hopper’s probably going to do something similar for mike
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teaandransacking · 1 year
Text
Open the blinds, let me see your face
in which I lock our favourite pair in the basement and let feelings loose.
A/N: thankyou SO MUCH for the lovely ao3 comments and the comments/messages here.
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Words: 1300 ~ Content: One amazing kiss, angst, SO MANY FEELINGS
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It’s freezing in the basement room, but Lucy consoles herself with the knowledge that at least there aren’t any ghosts trapped in here with them.
Yet. anyway.
Lockwood sits beside her, brain probably working a ten to the dozen, trying to find a way out, one hand holding the walkie talkie they’ve been using to reach George. He’s a few floors above, working on the locked door from the outside, and Lucy’s not yet found a puzzle George cannot crack, so in the mean time-
“All we have to do is not freeze to death,” she mutters.
Lockwood starts like she’s jabbed him with a cattle prod, and immediately takes off his long coat. He’s hardly without it; it’s like a kind of armour. 
She still remembers seeing him in a t-shirt for the first time and being momentarily confused. The suit and coat are an intrinsic part of him.
He finishes shrugging the coat off and offers it. 
The only light in the small space shines through the gap between the top stair and the door, casting a pale gold halo around Lockwood. Like he needs another reminder of his gorgeousness, Lucy thinks.
She reaches for the coat and hesitates.
“Take it,” he insists, in that crisp accent, the one she loves to hear her name in. “You’ll catch a cold.”
So she does, and Lockwood holds it out as she slips her arms into it, and she pulls the lapels together so it wraps her up in his scent, magazine pages and earl grey and citrus, and for a second she bows her head and breathes in. Maybe he won’t notice.
Except he does, and his hazel gaze is riveted on her.
“Thanks,” she manages. “I was cold. But what about you?”
He’s only got that thin white shirt and a tie on, above his trousers and the ever-present battered converse.
It must be below six degrees in here. Even in the coat, warm from Lockwood’s body, she still feels the the low temperature’s teeth.
Lockwood brings his knees to his chest. “I’m fine,” he bites off, but his show of bravado is as thin as the cotton of his dress shirt.
Save me from macho boys, Lucy thinks.
"For God's sake. We survive four floors of haunted horror and then you die of catching a cold? I don't think so." And she shuffles back over, and wraps herself around him, settling her head under his chin.
She feels him jerk for a moment, surprised, and then his arms curve around her, and she listens to his heart beating under her ear. Another moment passes, and he rests his cheek on the top of her head.
"Thanks, Luce."
"You're welcome."
It's not so cold now they're huddled together, knees drawn up against themselves, heads close. Lockwood is lean and solid under Lucy's  hands; her fingers skate the edges of his leather belt as she holds him to keep him warm.
It would be too easy to slide her index finger just a little lower, find out where the shirt ends and warm, smooth skin begins.
The image heats up every fibre inside her, and her face flushes. It's not an appropriate thought to have in a literal dungeon. 
For a start, there isn't a single nice soft surface to lay down on-
"Penny for them?" Lockwood asks softly. "Your thoughts, I mean."
Oh, God.
"Just, er, wondering where George is," she blurts out.
Lockwood has been idly stroking his thumb up and down against her shoulder, and at her words he abruptly stops. “I know it isn’t ideal, being trapped down here with me.”
Lucy’s eyes go wide in the semi-darkness. “That isn’t what I meant.” She swallows, mentally casting around for the right thing to say. “I’m happy being with you.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw; she feels it where his cheek is pillowed against her head. “You have no idea how much I want to let you in. It’s just hard to break the habit of a lifetime.”
Lucy’s heart clenches. Suddenly her next words feel of vital importance, so she weighs them carefully before she speaks, reluctant to embarrass herself, or worse, make Lockwood think he isn’t fast becoming her favourite person in the entire world.
“Just open the door a little further. I’ll do the rest.”
A soft little sound comes out of him, half groan and maybe half little sob, and she feels the gentle pressure of his hand cupping her cheek, his palm rapier-callused and familiar, and his touch is the home she’s been denied all her life.
Lucy straightens up, wiggling out from under him, and then his mouth is a breath from hers, and she meets his dark eyes in the gloom of their very unromantic surroundings, but it doesn’t  matter anymore. Everything except him, and the way he looks at her - as if she’d personally hung the moon - has fallen away.
The pad of his thumb skims along her bottom lip, and she’s enchanted by the way his dark gaze flicks to hers once, twice, three times, silently making sure she’s on the same page, before their mouths touch, and then Lucy’s sliding her hand into his hair, parting her lips under his, her heart pounding as weeks of yearning unfurl low in her belly. He’s here and he’s hers, and it’s a heady rush, being alone with him, even in a filthy, freezing basement, and her battered heart can’t help but hope that maybe, this is her last first kiss.
“God, Lucy,” Lockwood breathes, twisting his body so he’s as close to her as he can get, stretching out his legs and then pulling her closer, tipping her centre of gravity, and to keep from breaking the kiss, she shifts to straddle his lap, spearing both her hands into his tumble of dark hair, taking as much as she can get of his delectable mouth. His hands spread over her back, still warm under the veil of his coat hanging from her shoulders, even though she doesn’t need it anymore. 
Fire’s eating her up from the inside out. If he stays this close to her, she’ll never be cold again.
There’s a sudden creak and snap, and Lucy’s hand springs to her rapier, only to rapidly blink away a shaft of light from the door.
George stands in the aperture, backlit by a single lamp in the old manor’s servants’ hall.
“George?” Lockwood asks, and Lucy glances back at him, relieved to find his gaze as lust-drunk as her own must be.
Thank goodness there were no ghosts. She wouldn’t have noticed them if they’d conked her over the head with a brick.
Their friend snorts. “I might’ve known. There I was, in a flippin’ creepy manor hallway, alone, I might add, trying what seems like a hundred different keys, and you two are snogging!”
Lucy’s face flushes, and she’s very glad of the coat to hide their positions. “It was cold,” she says, but she can’t help smiling. “Thank you for rescuing us, George.”
“You’re the best of us,” Lockwood adds. He shifts position under Lucy, and he's hard where she's soft, and for a searing, breath-stealing moment, she wonders what might have happened had they been here a half hour longer.
George shakes his head, but there’s no anger in his tone when he says, “It’s about time. If I’d known being locked in a crumbly old basement was all it’d take, I’d have done it myself.”
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disneyanddisneyships · 3 months
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@gyubby99
TPOIF
The next morning Alistar walked into the dining hall, everyone turning to stare at him. He stood awkwardly before sitting down at the seat near the corner of the room. "You should eat, dear," Carol stated as she pushed her plate toward him gently. "I'm not hungry, mom. I promise. I'm fine," He smiled. "You need to eat too," "Alistar I eat all the time. You have problems with eating I want you to eat," Carol muttered. "Mom, i-" Alistar was interrupted when Elias placed a big plate of food in front of Alistar. "You're skinnier than a sword. You won't be able to wield one if you don't eat. You might need more energy to stab me again," Eli stated. "I.. I'm not gonna stab you again.. i-" "Just eat it," Eli stated, looking away uncomfortably and sitting down by his kids. Alistar glanced at Ella's family. And then the food. Carol Gave an encouraging smile before Alistar took a bite of the food, almost crying at how good it was. There was a knock on the dining hall door. "Hello. I'm here for the king and queen's family portrait?" A woman stated, standing awkwardly in the door. "Ah yes! Im.. afraid were in a bit of a luckle as of late. We're about to uh.. defend our kingdom... can you come back another day?" Ella asked as she stood up. "Oh.. uh... actually im... here for a month and the boat doesn't arrive until then... so i...." the girl stated with an awkward smile. "Oh no worries! How about you stay in the castle? You may have breakfast with us if you'd like," Ella stated. "I.. really?" The woman asked. "Dios mio..... I'd love to!" She stated. "Wonderful! And your name is?" Ella asked. "Rosalyn. But you can call me Rosa," the woman, now known as Rosa, stated. "Well, I'm Ella, that's my family. My sister, my kids, my husband, my father and mother and a few of my old friends," Ella stated, introducing everyone. Rosa waved. "And this is alistar," Ella stated awkwardly. Alistar looked up, his plate of food completely finished before glancing at Rosalyn, his eyes widening. Rosa looked at him the same way. Alistar swallowed the last of his food before giving a small smile. Rosalyn blushed. Carol looked between them excitedly. "I... uh... I'm Rosa," she stated, holding out her hand for alistar to shake. Alistar stood up immediately, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Im.. Alistar.. its.. nice to meet you," He stated with a blush plastered on his face. Eli rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, causing the two to step away from each other, Alistar sitting back down. Only to stand up again to pull out a chair for Rosalyn.
...... After breakfast, Alistar gave the rundown of his father's castle. Hiding places, crawl areas, and even secret rooms. "Oh so that's how you snuck extra cookies when you were six," Carol smirked. "That was eons ago, mother of mine! I haven't had a cookie in 30 years!" Alistar stated confidently. Ella chuckled. "I remember you brought me some one visit. I thought you said your dad knew," Ella stated. "He did not. When he found out, I was in a world of trouble. He burned off one of my fingerprints," Alistar stated with a clueless smile. Ella's smile fell. "Anyways, so if we go in through the dungeons, we can get through and go to this secret room over here which leads us right into his study. He usually spends most of his time in there anyways," Alistar explained. "But he probably knows you've escaped by now. And he grew up in that castle.. won't he expect us?" Clarissa asked. "That's why I'm gonna go in alone first. He expects me to stay away. Not to join in on battle," Alistar replied. "I don't know if I trust that," Eli muttered with a glare. Alistar shrugged. "Trust me or don't. It's the only chance we get," Alistar muttered. "Everyone gets a second chance. I mean. You and Rosalyn seemed pretty cozy at breakfast," Mia stated with a smirk. Alistar blushed. "What? No we werent!" He argued, his voice going up an octave. The entire group stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Oh cmon guys. Im.... I'm dead. Shes...... I'm gonna be gone after tomorrow when you figure this out, I have no shot. Besides... i...." Alistar trailed off, glancing at ella. "I don't deserve love after what I did," "Exactly," Elias stated. "Doesn't matter. Right now, we need to work on getting into that castle. We've already wasted half the day," Alruna muttered. "Shes right. If we don't leave now, John could strike. We need to get into the castle. The plan has to happen now," Clarissa stated. "Then we leave in 20," Ella replied.
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kissmyacdc · 1 year
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Bound for the Floor │ Chapter 4: The Gig
Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader—A Friends to Lovers, Angsty, Slowburn Mess
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[8.1k words]
Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4    Chapter 5
 Series Summary: Y/n and Eddie have been best friends for almost a decade, inseparable and eternally fated to be in each other’s lives forever. But is it more than that? Eddie hates Y/n’s on-again-off-again abusive boyfriend; is he getting in the way of something deeper than that? Something with someone she had never thought of like that before? 
 This is set in 1984, Eddie’s second-go-round at being a senior, reader and Eddie are both 19. I definitely moved some plot and character’s relationships details around to make the story flow better, but I promise it’s nothing confusing!
 WARNINGS: PLEASE IF YOU ARE NOT 18+ KINDLY EXIT!, the SLOWEST of slow burns, angst, a little crying, fighting, brief mentions of instances of abuse throughout (the first few chapters have multiple mentions, but I swear the fic will get happier!), mentions of drinking/alcohol problems throughout the series, mentions of alcoholism, weed & cigarette smoking and talk, talks of not being worthy of love, talks of physical insecurities,  mentions of abuse, self hate, BRIEFEST mention of underaged drinking, friends to loverssss so harddd, Eddie and y/n both sometimes being assholes- it’s so angsty.
 Ayo! Chapter 4 finally AH! I’m so sorry that this took SO long! I intended for Chapter 4 and 5 to be one, long chapter—but it was just too long that way. Here’s a sort of lead-up chapter to the juicy events of Chapter 5! But, this chapter is still important, reader has some revelations and hears some confessions. Chapter 5 is ¾’s of the way written, so it should be out within another week or so! Thank you for your patience and continued support even while I’m drowning in my college classes. I’M EXCITED FOR THIS STORY TO GET SPICIER AND ANGSTIER. -Autumn 
 P.S. Whenever I post the taglist it only tags people sometimes? But, sometimes I think some of you receive notifications anyways? I’m not sure! Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list and I will try my best to get this atrocity to work. 
Taglist:
@word-wytch​ @mxcheese​ @trashmouth-richie​ @shroombloom-rry @sidthedollface2​
@harrys-tittie​ @manda-panda-monium​ @tayhar811​ @aysheashea​ @magpietorichesfollows @violetsandroses8​ @bimbobaggins69​ 
 ______________________________________
Fingers sliding down metal like a car screeching to a halt in the wrong lane, they come to a stop on the wrong fret, again.
The rest of the rowdy symphony crashes to a finish unexpectedly around you.
“Oh fuck me!” You growl out from your gut, stamping your boot down onto the cement flooring with purpose.
“Easy, sweetheart, can’t right now—I don’t perform well for small audiences,” Eddie’s words are meant to be funny, to ease your frustration; he throws his arm out carelessly towards Gareth and Jeff who stand behind him. You don’t have to look to know they’re rolling their eyes into oblivion at Eddie’s relentless flirty personality. 
“Look—worst comes to worst, we’ll ditch the song. We have plenty to choose from.” He tries again, leveling with the group.
Moans and groans of protest sing out from the back of the garage. Every noise of complaint reaches your ears and reminds you of your current failure. Everybody really wanted to play this particular song, but for some reason you’d messed it up for the past 10 tries. Yes, 10. 
    “Oh c’mon—our first real gig and we’re not going to play Dungeons and Dragons?! Y/n—we’ve got to keep trying, you have to get it!” Jeff chides in a commanding tone. 
     Dungeons and Dragons was a beloved Corroded Coffin song, one of the first ever written. It was heavy, dirty, full of medieval references, and absolutely metal. But, the ballad seemed to be winning the duel you had been fighting with it during the guitar solo. Frustration and annoyance prickles up your neck and into the warmth of your cheeks. Body swinging towards Jeff haphazardly; 
      “Jeff, I haven’t played the god damned song in three years!” The words you deliver work in your defense; it was true—but you had also just been having a terrible week. You fear all the stress, angst, and pure trepidation had maybe contributed to your less-than-exceptional guitar shredding skills at the moment. Still, you felt terrible; this was one of their favorite songs—hell, it was one of your favorites, too.
“Look—” Eddie butts in, pointing his right hand at you; his left grips the neck of his guitar securely with confidence. You beg yourself to rip your eyes from where they loiter on the strong digits of his hand that he delicately grasps the instrument with, “What if right when the solo hits, you and I switch guitar parts—just for the solo—then we’ll switch back?”
      You knew that it was the most reasonable fix, however you were terribly stubborn even on a good day and too hard on yourself when it came to music. The plush skin of your lip is subjected to a second of mutilation as you mull the proposal over. Ugh—fine.
      “Okay, alright, alright,” taking a few steps back and bouncing the heel of your sole off of the ground in a fit of annoyance with yourself, “I can do that Eds” it comes out as a sigh.
      “Alright, you guys wanna take 5? We have the rest of the set down pretty good.” You were thankful, and albeit jealous, for Eddie’s passion and level-headedness when it came to music; he always sort-of served as the maniacal conductor and leader of the band. 
      “I’m goin’ to grab more water—you guys want one?” Jeff asks, moving his bass off of his body precariously and taking care to lean it safely against a random stack of boxes near the door to inside. Gareth places his sticks onto the snare, standing and stretching towards the ceiling with both hands pulling at each other above his head. 
      “I’m goin’ to grab a beer—you guys want one?” Gareth mimics Jeff comically, breaking a smirk at the rest of you.
      Rolling your eyes,
      “You’re not even 18 yet Gar, gonna get us shut down for soliciting to a minor,” 
      “Hey! I’m basically 18! And get who shut down—this is my house!” He defends jokingly, grabbing the door from Jeff now where he holds it open for him, palm splayed against the metal. 
     “I’ll take a beer, minor,” Eddie pokes, “None for y/n though, we don’t need her fingers turning to molasses on us”
     “Hey! I’m literally working on maybe two days’ notice at best—cut me some slack!” It comes out ruder than you intended, disappointment in yourself taking over your psyche momentarily. You and Eddie fling your instruments up and over your body almost simultaneously as Gareth and Jeff make pointed faces at each other, eyebrows raised, that say alright this is our queue to leave for a second. 
      The noise from the door being placed loudly into its frame once more coincides with your open palms meeting your face harshly, sliding down and distorting your expression efficiently. 
      “You know I was just joking around” Eddie provides once you’re both alone.
       “Oh, yea no, I know—it’s okay” you feign. Awkwardness arrives almost as soon as the two of you are left together. Pleading to God, you hoped he wouldn’t bring up a single thing about Derrick for the entirety of the day, at least. You both still hadn’t really finished your conversation from when he had found you in your bathroom at your trailer on Thursday, let alone from the conflict that broke out afterwards. You knew Eddie was itching for details, for an explanation—for reassurance that you were okay. 
     And deep down, Eddie really really wanted to know whether he could expect Derrick out of the picture or not—not that you necessarily knew that, though. 
     “I’m sorry I’m off my game, I’m doing my best. I’m really excited for the gig regardless.” You try again with a smile, deciding to be the god forsaken “bigger person” and keep the tension at an all time low for the night.
     “What? ‘Off your game’?!” He exclaims, gestured air quotes included, with a puff of air from his nostrils, “Never.” He declares, catching your glance. His smile seems somehow different than smiles you’ve seen before on Eddie. Well, he looked the same, obviously, but there was just something else there now that glimmered like an absolutely irresistible precious jewel in an ancient treasure chest—just out of reach. 
      Maybe you stare a little too long, you don’t care. From where he stands a few feet away from you, he’s nothing but captivating and positive energy. His hair is still slightly damp from him having washed it this morning, wanting his sometimes dreadful and unruly curls to look particularly alluring for tonight. You had to give it to him, it worked; you’d always be a sucker for long hair, let alone Eddie’s beautiful head of frizzy waves. 
      The black denim pants he dons are covered in holes—even on the back of his pant leg. Moving upwards, his torso is covered in a thin Black Sabbath t-shirt; his iconic leather jacket and jean vest lay on a chair near the garage door, strewn carelessly there in a pile along with his denim jacket that you had brought him from your trailer. Shoe-wise, you had both made the same, logical choice based on your knowledge: dirty white sneakers—because carrying heavy instruments and sound equipment up and down stairs, and back and forth through doors in giant, heavy ass boots sucked. 
      Eddie looked normal, looked natural. But, you’d be an idiot to try to ignore the way that your body fills with fire under his praise and attention of the moment. He looks the same, but there’s something else—something unfamiliar in the way you both stare at each other while you’re completely secluded in the garage together. 
       Eddie was fucking beautiful—ethereal, really. If it was ever hard to stop staring before, it’s impossible now. His pale skin, flaking slightly from the harsh chill outside and a teenage boy’s failed hygiene, was perfect. His slightly crooked and less-than-white smile was perfect. You hadn’t specifically noticed how much older—how grown—Eddie looked now compared to how you were used to observing his features in the past. Eddie was handsome. You bid yourself to stay within the hold of his eyes, the color of a deep, maple wood door that holds back everything you’ve ever wanted and couldn’t quite have.
       Thinking back to Kennedy and Robin in the bathroom the previous day, you mull over something Robin had said—Why not? Why not?
       But you remember you’re you. You’re practically Eddie’s sister and nothing more; an odd emotion makes itself known as a consequence to the thought of really considering Eddie as family in that sense. There had always been a unique and particular spark between the two of you that was harder and harder to ignore the older you got. 
       But what about that girl he’d been with in the woods? Eddie never looked at you like that—he never laughed with you like that. Surely if Eddie felt any kind of romantic emotion towards you, he already would have said something, acted on it, or honestly slipped up by now. You know the man better than the creases in your own palms. 
       Now, you’d allowed for a really inexcusably awkward pause since Eddie had last said anything; you were spiraling. Bidding yourself to fill the space with some kind of response;
      “Eds—can you believe that we’re going to play a real show? Little us would think we’re cool as fuck” you gloat, 
      “Little us?” He asks, now interested in what you were saying once more “yea, I guess I’d think I was pretty kick ass.” 
       You laugh, grateful for your save from your staring spell. Before you can add anymore to the conversation,
       “Wanna smoke?” Eddie  turns around and beckons his hand at you in the air towards himself, already walking outside the garage and around the house. It’s more of a notification of his plans than a genuine question—so far in your life, you’re yet to deny an offer to smoke. You’re not sure if it’s weed or a cigarette, but you move lightly in your sneakers as you follow the boy to find out. Gareth’s parents wouldn’t be home until later in the day, both him and Jeff were still inside. 
      “I have exactly 2 cigarettes left, so, perfect—” He speaks matter-of-factly as his adept fingers pass through the aluminum paper inside the small box, “I thought what better excuse for my sweet pea and I to inhale a well-deserved higher possibility of lung cancer together?”
      Body as heavy as stone, you cease any movement whatsoever; you’re caught off guard by the name and endearment. My sweet pea. Not only a name you’d heard once in a blue moon for the past few years until recently, but he’d said you were his. You know it’s just a name, just a few words that mean nothing except you’d known Eddie forever and have a platonic relationship that runs deep. You use terms of endearment with each other; you flirt with each other as a joke. Kennedy, Robin, and you flirt with each other all the time in a joking way, it was like that. 
       A distinct, weighted sensation in your stomach is produced as a product of your own lies to yourself at this moment. 
      Fumbling, say something—say something,
      “Hey,” you try to pass off your shock with nonchalance, shrugging and resituating which leg you’re bearing your weight on, “‘til death do us part, right?”
       As soon as it’s out of your mouth you want to disintegrate into dust and fall into the soil, maybe turn into a pitiful dandelion. ‘Til death do us part? Those are fucking wedding vows.
       You’re starting to think maybe you did feel something other than friendly love towards Eddie; you’re usually so quick on your toes. You don’t often get caught up on your words. 
       Eddie is just as thrown off by your comment as you are. His eyebrows move in towards each other, nose scrunching, as he jerks his head in towards himself. He’s already got a cigarette held precariously within his mouth unlit, his lips pulled in and over his teeth so as to not crush the thing. Just as quickly as the grimace, his face moves into an amused smile as he holds the second cigarette out towards you, but there’s something else screaming to claw its way to the surface behind his stare. He offers the cigarette to you like a dare almost, like he wanted to see if you’d actually take it. His eyes observe expectantly as he tries to still act invested in your god forsaken conversation about marriage. Whatever his deal is—you decide to deal with it when the problem arises, and you take the bait awkwardly. 
       “Wedding vows?!” He muses, rifling in his pocket for a lighter, “And I don’t even get a ring first? What a rip off” 
       His line of sight bounces back and forth between your face and the cigarette he had just given you as his hand moves with experience to cup around the end of the stick in his mouth, sufficiently blocking the wind to light it. 
       “Isn’t the guy supposed to propose and get the ring and shit?” You didn’t believe in the outdated, misogynistic idea—but you needed to regain your composure. Any sentence that’d help you resume your confident, sarcastic tone and find a better subject to talk about was good enough for you. 
        Except what happens next is absolutely, completely, and utterly odd. Eddie puts his lighter back into his pants pocket without giving you a second glance; he glances off somewhere down the street of the neighborhood as he nonchalantly gives the object in his hand a flick to clear the build up of ash. Why would he offer you a cigarette and not his lighter?
        Face turning sour, you now dig for your own lighter in your pocket. Assuming the same position as Eddie’s between his own lips, your cigarette burns ablaze underneath your gaze. Peering down to the tip of your nose, you observe the thin rim of an orange glow at the end of the stick, making sure it lit correctly. 
       Eddie huffs air out his nose at that, hitting his cigarette once more before lazily throwing a hand towards you,
       “You know you don’t believe in that crap,” he says lightly, but it’s his dark chocolate eyes that bore into your own as he speaks it. Avoiding a gulp, you hit your cancer stick again and avert your eyes. 
       Eddie still stares at you; you can feel his line of sight practically burning through the side of your skull. Keeping your eyes zeroed in on Gareth’s perfectly trimmed and green grass, you squat and secure your body to balance lightly on your own calves. You give the filter of your cigarette a quick jolt with your thumb to clear the ash, then meet your lips to the poisonous luxury once more.
       “Got me there,” you speak between drags, “I don’t think I’m marriage material. Or any type of anyone’s desired material to be honest” 
        Eddie lets out another pshhhh like he had earlier when you apologized for being off your game. 
       “Yea right—the only reason ‘little me’ wouldn’t think I’m totally kick ass right now is because he never got his chance with you.” Eddie says it like any other snarky comment, like any other joke, but you almost drop your cigarette into the grass. Bracing yourself on your own legs tighter from where you sit low in the grass next to Eddie’s legs, you have no idea what to say. 
        What? What? You can’t be silent, you need more information. Eddie must have seen your eyes go round and blaring like high beams; he must have sensed when you cease your breathing. He shifts his weight uncomfortably and looks away towards the end of the street again. He lets out a sniffle as he flicks ash off the cigarette, light jingling rings out from the chains and other bracelets that wrap his wrists as he executes the motion. He’s trying to play off what he had just confessed.
       “What?” Was all that you could produce; you really didn’t mean for it to come out so biting and full of incredulity. 
       “Yea—I mean I had the biggest crush on you in middle school, couldn’t you tell?” He elaborates, leaning his body back into the wall of the house. The plastic siding gives way and makes a small shuttering sound as it accounts for the man’s weight. He was nervous, you could tell from his fidgeting and movement between multiple different stances in under a minute. 
       “I—” you let out a laugh in disbelief, “I mean—no, Eddie, I couldn’t. I hated myself in middle school” You’ve lost interest in the cigarette all together; you let it burn away in between the grip of your pointer and middle fingers. 
       Eddie had a crush on you in middle school? That was gonna be a big one to process, in fact, you weren’t sure if that sentence would be completely understood by you and your mind until next week.
       It was true, you had hated yourself in middle school. But, not nearly as much as you did now. Back then, it was others’ pains and burdens that drug you down into an anxiously drenched ditch of depression and melancholy. Now? It was you, all you. You had chosen Derrick, you had stayed with him. You weren’t “cool” or “beautiful” or even okay enough not to get bullied at school. You weren’t good enough to keep a piece of shit like Derrick’s loyalty. You hated yourself then because of issues at home and trauma; you hated yourself now because you deserved it. You deserved to be alone; the gifts of blissful ignorance and suppressed emotion was the least you could grant Eddie, Wayne, Robin, Kennedy, and your mother. 
        “I know you did—I know that shit sucked, I’m sorry” Eddie talks softly now; for the second time this week he easily strips his hardass exterior to present you with tenderness and support. Your heart breaks as the gesture; it really wasn’t often that Eddie granted you any type of heart-to-heart. And if that was because the boy didn’t know how he felt in many aspects concerning yourself, it was unbeknownst to you. 
          Your eyes land on the cigarette in your hand, almost gone but it holds an inexcusably long tube of ash at the end that had yet to be cleared. You were done smoking, you needed to move—you needed solitary within a locked bathroom somewhere for sure. When you allow for a pause in the conversation that’s just a little too long, Eddie keeps pushing the conversation in another direction. Your guess would be that you both are drowning in uncomfortability and awkwardness and knew Gareth and Jeff would be bound to pop their heads around the garage any moment. He points to the cigarette in your hand,
       “Gonna finish that? I’ll finish it,” it’s less than a question because he seems to decide—whether you were going to answer or not—that the half-smoked substance is his now. He’s quick to bend at his waist down towards you; closing your eyes shut tight, the breeze from his movements splashes his warm, woodsy scent right into your face. Plucking the cigarette from between your fingers without waiting for consent, he tosses his finished butt into the street as he replaces its place in his mouth with your own cigarette. 
         Deciding you weren’t able to wait for Gareth or Jeff to come save the both of you from whatever fucking absolutely confusing and painful discourse the two of you were in, you place your hands onto your thighs. Breathing in a gasp of air as you push your form back into a standing position, you rifle your fingers through your thick hair a little to resituate some of the locks. 
          Only you didn’t have to save yourself— you hear a heavenly ballad of For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica ringing out through the quaint, suburban neighborhood. Louder and louder as it nears, the addition of a scarily loud car motor secures your suspicions:
         Kennedy and Robin had arrived to help pack up your respective vehicles to head to the Stand Alone. 
        Thank god. 
        “TIME MAR-CHES ONNNNN” Kennedy screams from her acrobatic position, almost in the driveway now; her body hangs dangerously out of the driver’s side window as much as she can with her hand still on the wheel.
        Giggling, you move forward quickly now back through the pliant grass towards the garage. You were desperate to flee whatever conversation you and Eddie were chained in. Through the dirty windshield, you see Robin’s arm snap out to grab ahold of Kennedy’s coat and yank her back into her rightful seat,
         “FOR FUCK’S SAKE KENS—” Robin starts, Kennedy grins as she puts the vehicle in park—
         “TAKE A LOOK TO THE SKY JUST BEFORE YOU—”
        Kennedy’s serenade cuts Robin off surely, but her screams become less audible as she rolls all the car windows up. The muted singing reaches your ears like muffled music outside of a club. 
        The ruckus hails for Gareth and Jeff; they come bounding through the door inside the garage once more. 
         Eddie trails behind you, you’re sure. But, you didn’t dare a glance. His confession sounds over and over again in your head like an alarm. He didn’t seem that uncomfortable when he had said it—was “confession” the right word for it? It certainly was to you. Surely if he mentioned it so easily, it was a long and far forgotten about thought in his earlier self’s prepubescent brain. 
        But the thought of Eddie wanting you in that way made you feel emotions that you’d do anything to run away from.
        “Cineralla’s carriage has arrived!” Kennedy chirps, gesturing wildly to her car as she enters the garage space. Robin pushes her door into its place in the frame of the car, then slouches her weight into it.
         “Yea—I think everyone in the neighborhood heard your tour debut” Robin teases. Kennedy swipes her long, sun colored hair over both her shoulders and places her hands on her hips,
         “Hey! I’m setting the mood for Corroded Coffin’s first real show! It’s gonna be METAL” Kennedy exasperates—she was always the happy-go-lucky one of the group.
         Robin sends you a look when you and Eddie step around some flower beds on the side of the house to re-enter the garage together; her eyes bounce back and forth between the two of you and the side of the house. She smiles at you knowingly. Pushing her form up off of the car and slapping her hands together,
          “Well—let's start loading! We’ll wanna be there by 3 to set up and do soundcheck.” Robin announces; she was the most punctual of the bunch when it came to time and travel. 
          Eddie places his hand on the back of your shoulder lightly, the smallest and most innocent form of contact delivering a sufficient rush of dopamine and blood in your cheeks. He only does it to push past you, body entering the garage and stalking towards Jeff and Gareth with a purpose. They were Corroded Coffin after all, they did this routine sometimes twice a week even just playing at the Hide Out. For the Stand Alone gig, they were bringing out the bigger, nicer, expensive equipment and amps they had saved and worked for over the past months—acquiring each once at a time, one by one slowly after totaling their finances every few weeks. Hence, Kennedy was here with her beat up station wagon to host instruments, pedals, and other miscellaneous needs. 
           And you just know Eddie won’t bring it up again—the thing he had said about you and middle school earlier. You’d lost your chance to inquire further, and you were going to feel the consequences boil you alive inside your mind’s soup of emotions. 
           Deciding you and Eddie had both silently and subconsciously agreed to temporarily forget the dramatics, angst, and awkwardness of the past week or so and just have fun tonight, you move to join in on the packing brigade. 
           You and Eddie would act normal, like the best friends that you were and always have been because tonight—tonight, Eddie (and you sort-of by your close association to the band since it’s origins) was having a life long dream come true. One thing was for sure, it was gonna be a god damned great time. Despite whatever unspoken words have Eddie and you wrapped in an inescapable web of feeling, you both were so excited; you both were so excited to share this experience together.
 ~~~
            Screams of absolute joy and adrenaline roar out behind you as you disappear off of the stage; your guitar still weighs heavy on your shoulder, having slid around your body to hang off of your back like a piece of armor. The grin on your face is so wide it hurts, you’re sure in the moment that it’s permanent forever. The after-show dopamine and adrenaline high is one of the best feelings in the world—and for a crowd this big? You’d never get over chasing this feeling. 
          “FUCK YEAH!!! YES!!!” Eddie screams out, both hands flying up in the air to collide with Gareth’s in a double-high five. Both boys' eyes are wide and full of pure enchantment, elation glimmers in every drip of sweat that runs off of their faces and torsos. Gareth had ended up shirtless, and Eddie, per your convincing a few minutes before the show, had haphazardly cropped his t-shirt to right above his navel. All three boys had also let You, Kennedy, and Robin do their eyeliner, with black smudges all over their cheeks and grey-tinted sweat as evidence.
          Swinging his eyesight around the group wildly, the green and purple stage lights swipe across his glistening skin quickly as Eddie’s eyes stop on yours. Both thinking the same thing, you hurl yourself at each other. Your bodies collide roughly in one of the biggest hugs you’ve probably ever given each other. It felt like every little conversation you two had had as children inside pillow forts about this very moment were being made real. Accomplishments the two of you had never imagined; you were both riding on a wave of never ending incredulity. 
           In a crazy combination of the after-show-high, the weed you had smoked with everyone before the show, and Eddie’s bare and sweaty skin pressed up against your own—your abdominals stick for a second as you pull apart—your brain felt high in a way you’d never experienced. It’s almost dangerous to feel this good, you thought. 
           “Let's go! 10 ‘til Thieves!” A crew member booms out as crews rush past the group of the 6 of you—Robin & Kennedy had been waiting on the side of the stage the entire time, obviously. You’d almost forgot Corroded Coffin didn’t have a crew, you had yourselves and the girls and you needed to get your equipment off of the stage so the headliner, Thick as Thieves, could set their stage. 
           “Here—you start to grab the lighter stuff!” Kennedy yells over the crowd’s screams and radio music blasting through the speakers as the venue sits in flashing colored lights in front of a blacked out stage. She reaches forward expectantly with her hands for your guitar. Jeff and Eddie are already back on the stage lifting either side of an amp together. You fling it off to give her the hefty instrument, spinning on your heel quickly to retrieve mic stands and various pedals. 
          Somewhere in between dragging your things off the stage, a group of men absolutely decked out in leather, chains, and ripped denim approaches the group of you all where you stand waiting for the rest of Gareth’s drum set. Obviously, it was the headliner, Thick as Thieves—you’d never met them, but you’d seen them in a few local papers and definitely heard all about them from Eddie when Corroded Coffin had first gotten the gig. And man were they pretty; the scattered glittery makeup on their cheekbones and eyelids didn’t go amiss to you, or Kennedy for that matter, as you both close-to-ogled over the group of men. Chancing a knowing look at each other with wide eyes and elevated eyebrows, you grab at each other’s arms simultaneously before looking back at the group. Kennedy leans into your body, her silky hair tickling your damp cheek as she places her lips close to your ear to yell,
            “Thick as Thieves? Girl—I bet something is thick for sure!” Your lips split into a huge grin as you let out what you’re sure is an ugly laugh, like you could hear anything right now in the vibrating venue. Kennedy was absolutely always ever-the-flirt, but she definitely had a point this time, even though you had rolled your eyes at her while you laughed. 
            “Yea? You think we have a shot?” You yell back, pulling her frame close once more to push your mouth to her own ear now. Kennedy jolts back like she’s been shocked somehow, her eyes darting between the group of men and you once more, a devious smirk on her face. She leans in again.
           “Are you fucking kidding me? Y/n, look—” she tilts her head the slightest, prompting you to glance at the 5 burly men again. It wasn’t lost on you how one of the taller ones, with long, dark and curly hair, had his gaze unabashedly locked on you already, shamelessly. When your eyes meet his, he gives a huge smirk and a tip of his head towards you. The strobe lights leak backstage from the venue and the ever-changing colors now loiter in a bright blue haze weaved throughout the frizz that adorned his mane of hair. He seems unearthly in the light, ethereal and god-like. You felt like you somehow fell into the exclusive back-stage interview section of a magazine. 
            A sweaty hand landing on your shoulder pulls you away from his alluring gaze; you snap your face to the right, eyes meeting Eddies. Surely, your whole face is as red as a ripened apple, flustered by the attention of the rockstar in front of you. Eddie looks at you with his eyebrows together in confusion, then smirking when he realizes why you’re so flushed.
           “I leave you alone for a few minutes and you’ve already got the entire room in your hands” he yells into your ear over the music that plays through the speakers during the intermission. You’re absolutely confused. What? Was that his weird-Eddie way of admitting jealousy for once? His “confession” from earlier sounds in your mind once more. Before you can say anything,
           “That’s the last of the equipment—” he motions to a pile of metal, wood, and various cords and cases, “After Thieves play, we’ll load the van and car up” he informs
           Kennedy’s grasp that’d never left your arm tightens, she pulls on you enough that you’re looking back towards the group of men again. Although this time, the men are walking towards the three of you now. Thank god Eddie had showed, you didn’t know why you felt such a nervous wreck in front of the beautiful men. 
            Eddie takes the lead as expected, straightening out his body a bit to face the band members, throwing his hand out to do whatever odd high five-fist bump combination men do that ends in them pulling the other inwards for a one-armed hug. Jeff and Gareth appear from seemingly nowhere, with Robin in tow. The boys all give their hellos and introductions briefly with each other before the man in the middle presumably the singer, backs up and speaks louder to the whole of you,
            “Hey, we’ve got to give you guys props, that was one of the best opening sets we’ve had in forever—you guys really know how to fuckin’ rock” the rest of the men around him bleat out a chorus of agreements. The extra-pretty one who continued to keep staring at you speaks up,
            “And a female guitarist who shreds like that? You guys are refreshing” his voice drips with honey when he says it, so sweet that you almost don’t remember that guitarist is you, and you’ve got all the attention now. 
            “Thanks—I’m actually just a fill-in, this is my band, Dead Wives” you manage to speak, holding eye contact the entire time as well. You had no idea what to say to his compliment, so you turned to shameless self-advertising. You sling your right arm around Robin and pull Kennedy closer as you identify your troop. 
            The eye contact the two of you hold feels personal, like neither of you were really talking to the group in the first place. A rush of butterflies that you haven't felt in forever arrives in your abdomen. And the best part? You’re not nervous in the ways that you have been about other romantic pursuits. You don’t think you’re undeserving for once. This older man stands before you, dripping sex, and you knew if he was attracted to you thus far, he’d most likely pursue you for the night temporarily. It gave you a major confidence boost. Knowing that if anything, you could secure this god of a man for a night and prove to yourself that your love life wasn't completely dead forever. You decide you want him. 
           As if the heavens were on your side, the lead singer speaks up again,
           “Yea? Well, Corroded Coffin and Dead Wives are totally invited to our afterparty. It’s been a long time since we toured back in Indiana, so an old friend of ours about 30 out from here is throwing us a reunion of sorts,” he says it gruffly with a grin, his attention straying over to where some men with headsets and walkie talkies are quickly motioning at the group “That’s our manager—” his hand flings absentmindedly to a fancier stage-hand, clad in a button up shirt, “he’ll give you guys the address” 
            One of the men who stands behind him in the group clasps his shoulder,
           “David, stage in 60” he prompts him, efficiently moving the rest of the members,
           “We’ll see you there!” The singer shouts at your small group where you all stand as they start to backaway and head for the stage,
            Your friends are already pressed mouth-to-ear gossiping and reveling in the invite, only Eddie really sees what happens next.
            The man you had decided was your conquest for the night moved away with his band, but his eyes stayed on you. The look on his face is washed in pure confidence, you can tell he always gets what he wants. As your eyes meet his once more, you surprise yourself by being able to give him a smile in return. When he winks at you before turning away, your organs melt straight through your skeleton and into the dingy, cement flooring you stand on. You’re yanked back to reality by a grip on your upper arm,
           “Hey—If we go to this party, you need to watch that guy, he’s being fucking weird” Eddie yells into the shell of your ear, obviously pissed off.
            You pull away from his words with a grin, you’d definitely admit this time that Eddie being jealous or possessive over you beat the feeling this older, burly rockstar gave you anyday. Why not both? Was it so bad? Eddie didn’t actually want you, did he? Surely, like you’d come to the conclusion of earlier, he’d have said something. 
            “Why? You jealous, Eds?” You let it come out in a flirty tone, your leftover high and adrenaline rush you were still riding out has you confident. 
            Eddie smiles to himself a little, snorting some air as he darts his eyes away from you and up to the ceiling rafters above. He’s smiling, but you know he’s wrestling with his envious frustrations behind his eyes. 
           “Sweetheart, why would I be jealous? Weren't you the one repeating wedding vows to me earlier?” It was hard to catch Eddie off guard, he always, always had a smart ass comment to shield his true emotions with. 
          “Well, I don’t see a ring yet anywhere, Mr. Munson, so that means we go to this party and I’m going to pocket that man” You swear his body tenses as you grab his upper bicep, luring him closer to you so that you can sufficiently yell into the shell of his ear once more. Concerts really weren’t the best place for conversations, obviously. You wonder which one of you will lose hearing first in old age. 
         “Alright, well, please be safe y/n, you’re a smart person,” Eddie pulls back from the side of your face as soon as he speaks it, making sure to direct you a pointed look, directly from his pupils to yours, letting you know that he wasn’t joking about that statement, “And would it kill you to maybe stay where I can see you?” He speaks as he returns to your ear once more. This time, his lips make direct contact with the bare flesh of your ear, making your shoulders tense. You pass it off as a jitter, shifting your posture and weight from hip to hip as he still grips you close. 
         When he pulls back, you’re immediately searching for his eyes—searching for any evidence that the contact affected him, too. You’re surely more observant of the two of your interactions after he had revealed that he had, at least once in your life times, had big feelings for you—romantic ones.
         When he doesn’t let you interrogate his thoughts through his gaze, you settle on an exaggerated eye roll.
          “Eddie, I’m a big girl, remember?”
          “I know, sweetheart, he’s just a lot older and bigger than you—just don’t run off and disappear, please?” He tries again as soon as you’ve deflected his concern. Pulling away to chide you through his gaze once more, you look away to hide the feeling that washed over your body when he looked at you like this. Your heart drips in warmth and hums at the thought of Eddie being consistently concerned for you and your wellbeing—nothing Derrick ever did. Sometimes, you know it isn’t fair or equal, but you find yourself comparing the two. As the two main males in your life since forever, really, it was hard not to compare the two in small moments where you’d usually lack the care and protection of a male figure.
           “I’m not going to disappear, Eds, I’ll be careful,” you readjust your tone and snarky gaze to show the man you understand, and to thank him silently for his concern, “And look—shit goes south and I’m out, I’m coming to find you immediately, okay?” You further reason with your friend.
           He eyes you for a moment without replying, glancing back over his shoulder at the stage, the rest of your group nearby, and then to the manager of Thick as Thieves who had been pointed out earlier. Letting out a breath, he straightens his shirt and jams one hand into the ripped back pocket of his denim. 
           “Okay, I know you’ll be careful, y/n,” he leans back and says it, peering at you over his bottom lids in a particular kind of way that has you avoiding eye contact at any cost, “I’m going to go talk to the manager about directions!” By the end of his sentence, he’s regained his light hearted, cheery, and outgoing toned personality. He throws a small wink at you as he walks off, strong legs carrying him across the back room with a purpose. You roll your eyes at him, but once his form is turned, a blush is involuntarily released upon the upper plains of your cheeks. 
          You can’t help the thought that runs through your mind in that moment,
          I swear I live in a movie sometimes.
          When Robin sees Eddie leave your side, she’s dashing over in a second.
          “Okay—between yesterday in the bathroom, earlier at Gareth’s, and literally two seconds ago—PLEASE update me on what is going on between the two of you!” You cringe at her loud words entering your headspace, yanking back with wide eyes Robin already knows what you’ll say. She leans in again,
          “Literally no one can hear us!” You roll your eyes at her, giving her a dead-pan look,
          “Okay, okay—later!” She decides, giving you another meaningful look. You glance back over your shoulder where Eddie stands next to the fancily dressed man; they both have their arms in various positions in the air, motioning different directions and movements as the manager no doubt tells Eddie how to successfully navigate to the after party. 
          “Robin, did you see that guy in the band?!” You decide to change the subject, to let her in on you and Kennedy’s secret, “He’s mine, I know I can do it” you say it confidently, giving her forearm a squeeze for emphasis. She pulls away with a devious and excited expression, the side of her lips twisting into an interested smirk. 
          “Girl—you got this, just be safe!” She delivers, with a pointed look to Eddie and then back to you. You knew the warning was about the band member. The look on the other hand was her way of saying This ought to be interesting, a new conquest in front of Eddie. 
           You ignore the anxiety her glance threatens to spill from where you’ve locked it for the night.
          In no time, Eddie’s returning and corralling the group of you to touch base about equipment pack-up quickly while you watch the show. Thick as Thieves turned out to be a pretty metal band—admittedly not as metal as Corroded Coffin or Dead Wives—but, they were pretty good nonetheless. The band’s performance had you just as mesmerized as any other live-music-show you’ve seen; the way the sound waves find that niche feeling of vibrating through your rib cage and down your spine is unlike any other. Particularly, the gorgeous guitarist that you had been eyeing was one of the most alluring and intriguing parts of the show. Curly hair slashing back and forth through the air with every head bang, drops of sweat flinging to and fro when he’d lash his neck around to the rhythm—oh, you wanted him. 
              The set went by quicker than your own had seemed to pass, and the next thing you know you’re next to Jeff grabbing various pieces of equipment. As you all carry your plethora of amps, cases, and plugs back and forth from the backstage area to where Eddie’s van, Kennedy’s station wagon, and Jeff’s beater of a car were parked, you discuss a game plan for the highly anticipated event you all face. The party would no doubtedly be full of much older people, absolutely smeared in alcohol, drugs, and sex—the six of you needed to stay safe.
                “Gareth can’t legally drink so, I vote him as designated driver under donation of my vehicle for the night” Jeff points out as he slams the back of Eddie’s van; the metal creaking and clicking in an all-too-familiar sound. 
                “Yea? And what about my car?” Kennedy pouts, “I didn’t know there would be a cool after party, I don’t want to leave my car parked anywhere around here.”
                “I don’t have my license so I’m out” Robin speaks throwing her arms up, prompting a moan from Kennedy
                “Okay, I guess I’ll also stay pretty much sober” Kennedy gives in,
               “Pretty much?!” Robin explains, turning her head abruptly with round eyes, eyebrows reaching toward her hairline as she stares Kennedy down, “And I’m assuming I’ll be riding with you?” She finishes with incredulity.
               “Look—I can smoke and drive fine, okay?” Kennedy defends herself, turning to Eddie and you, “One of you needs to be sober enough to drive this Ol’ baby home later—safely.” She slams one open palm into the backing metal door of Eddie’s van. The hollow expanse of metal gives a low booming sound as she taps it twice for emphasis. 
                “Rock, paper, scissors” You and Eddie both blurt out at the same time, hands and fists at the ready before the words had finished exiting your mouths. Hitting your fists into your hands three times, you form a rock with your first, Eddie forms scissors—Success!
                “Ha!” Your voice shrieks out in excitement while Eddie groans, dramatically and long, flinging his neck backwards with his eyes peering up at the inky, vast night sky in annoyance. Steam streams from his parted lips in the paralyzing chill of late September as he brings his gaze back down to scrutinize you with his brow positioned in concern.
               “Should you even be drinking right now, y/n? I mean you already smoked earlier,” he says it in a nasty tone, but it pulls a laugh out of the other five of you—there was no way he was being serious, right?
                “I’m being serious y/n” Eddie tries again, this time piquing everyone’s interest with his odd suggestion; all eyes land on you. Even though you didn’t have the slightest idea what the boy was insinuating, you felt embarrassment under the increased attention and the implications of why you should or shouldn’t be indulging in illicit substances.
                 “What the fuck are you talking about, Munson? I feel like I’ve proved to the lot of us before that I could out-smoke you any day; I’m fine to be drinking, I can handle myself.” You speak it with a purposeful spunk, you had won the stupid rock, paper, scissors fair and square, and you really wanted some liquid courage to help you in your mission to receive some kind of  hook up from the mysterious guitar player. Eddie narrows his eyes into accusatory slits and stares at you; you can’t help but feel like he was trying hard to convey something to you that you couldn’t wrap your head around.
                   When Robin and Kennedy look at you with curiosity, trying furiously to connect any dots they had missed that could possibly explain Eddie’s interrogation, Eddie falters in his confidence. Unbeknownst to yourself, Eddie had a deep, heavy, suspicion about the Derrick situation—one that explained how you had been acting perfectly. He wasn’t going to outright accuse you yet, but if he was right about his suspicions, there was no good excuse for you to be drinking or smoking any substance. Surely, if his theory was correct, Robin and Kennedy would know about it—their cluelessness made him question his own working explanation. He decides to drop it all together.
                   “I just want you to be careful—alert.” Eddie rushes in to explain, you don’t fully believe him, but you’re happy with his change of heart.
                  “I’ll be fine Eddie, I’m a big girl and there’s literally six of us—we’ll stick together for the most part, yea?” You look around to gain everyone’s variation of an approving nod or look of comprehension, “Besides, I won rock, paper, scissors fair and square, I’m the one getting trashed tonight.” You say it matter-of-factly so that Eddie knows the conversation is over. Why was he acting so odd? 
                  You remember you and Eddie’s previous understanding from earlier in the morning when you both had decided to just let go and have fun tonight. You bid yourself to drop it.
                  Besides, now you’d basically been given permission to become as messed up as you wanted to be; you absolutely trusted Eddie to get you home safely. Part of you felt guilty that Eddie always fell into the last and toughest line of defense when it came to your safety, but in your support, Eddie wouldn’t not protect you with his life even if you would have begged him not to. The depression and deep void of anguish that plagued your psyche and most of the working memory capacity of your brain however, rejoiced at the thought of becoming extremely inebriated and illusively high on a substance or two. You knew it wasn’t a responsible or plausible thing to do, or a solution to your despair, but the temporary escape was too tempting not to snatch when the perfect opportunity has been dangled right in front of your face. 
                With that argument seeming settled, the six of you quickly picked one of the three vehicles to drive in and were on your way, with Eddie leading the line of cars to the destination. 
               You wondered how the party would go—it definitely wasn’t any of your first parties, or even your second or third. The six of you had been to many-a-party together, but nothing could have prepared you specifically for the night ahead. If any part of you had thought the party could possibly be a boring bust, it would be proved dead wrong. 
__________________________________________________
Hello again! I hope it was everything you could have ever imagined— BUCKLE TF UP FOR CHAPTER 5! -Autumn
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crabbunch · 6 months
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For the ficlet thingy, 15. Dearest ache
15- dearest // ache
There is a ravager behind him. There's also a ravager in front of him- Etho sucks in a quick breath and sprints a little faster. The hallway is too small to squeeze past either ravager, but he does have a rusty repair kit, and the ladder to the library is in sight. He can wait down there for the ravagers to forget about him and then sneak back out once they've wandered off.
Etho jumps onto the ladder, but just as he's about to start descending, the ravager who was chasing him manages to clip his arm with a tusk. He yelps, and tumbles the rest of the way down the ladder- his com falls out of his hand and bounces onto the floor beside the ladder.
He lands hard, knocking the air out of himself and probably breaking some ribs, if the shooting pain running through them every time he breathes in is any indication. Etho just lays there for a while, listening to his cards run out and his stumbles build up until his clank and hazard are both at max.
The artifact wasn't that good, anyways; it was just 30 embers. He still has three keys left. He's not terribly disappointed by the failure. He lays on the ground and tries to breathe as shallowly as he can and waits for a ravager or a vex to find him and finish him off so that he can respawn.
...except they can't get in here. The library is a safe place. Etho turns his head slightly to look at Rusty. He can't die in here. If he wants to die, he's going to need to get out.
He's not sure he can do that.
He can't just message Tango, either, because Tango's not even online, and he doesn't have his com.
Etho only has one berry left- no where close to enough to heal with. He sits up, gritting his teeth and ignoring the ache that only deepens in his ribs. He just needs to climb up the ladder and let something maul him and then he can go home, or maybe just run the dungeon again.
He can barely sit up, though. Etho breathes in shallow gasps, but it doesn't do much to lessen the pain.
He's stuck. He's stuck in a safe place, and that means that nothing can kill him, and he's stuck. None of the other hermits were even online, last time he checked- they won't know to come looking for him.
Etho keeps his breathing even, and listens to the distant rumbling of ravagers. His ribs ache so badly.
He can do this, though. He just has to get to his feet and then take a step and then maybe another step and then one more step and he'll be at the ladder and then he only has to climb up 25 rungs until he'll be at the top where he can lie down again and wait for some ravager to hear his pathetic gasping and finally finish him off.
So it's basically impossible.
S-stumble! the dungeon stutters. Etho didn't know it could do that. He pats the floor next to him reassuringly, and then slumps back to the ground, trying not to inhale too sharply when the movement jostles him.
Ssssstumble! the dungeon says, sooner than it should, probably. Etho blinks at the ceiling. Either the dungeon is broken or he's spacing out- he sort of hopes it the second. If it is, he might just die of like, a punctured lung or something. That'd be nice.
S-sss-sss-sss- the dungeon says again. Darn. Just broken, then. He'll be waiting here for ages until someone notices he's missing.
Eeet-ho? the dungeon says. Maybe. He might just actually be hallucinating. That's a little worrying.
Etho? the dungeon says again. Concerning. Etho blinks at the ceiling. His ribs ache.
Etho! the dungeon says.
"Huuhhh," Etho says. "Weird. Is this actually happening?"
Yes! says the dungeon. Yes!
"Cool," Etho slurs. "Hey... why?"
Worried... the dungeon says.
"Yeah, I get... wait, no I don't. Aren't you supposed to kill people? For fun?" Etho blinks.
Kill. the dungeon says. Not this.
"Oh yeah," says Etho. "Cool. Could you- get something down here to do that?"
Can't, the dungeon says with a distinctly mournful note.
"Oh, that's okay," Etho says. "Thanks anyways."
Okay? the dungeon asks. Be okay?
"I'll get there," Etho says. "Just... gotta respawn. Someone will notice I'm in here eventually."
Help? the dungeon asks.
"I don't know how," Etho admits. "I'm just- waiting. Wait with me?"
Yesss, the dungeon agrees. Wait with you.
"Thanks," Etho says. "Yeah... let Tango know I'm here when he gets online? I'm gonna... nap..."
Okay, says the dungeon. Wait with you. Bring Tango.
"Great," Etho says, blinking his eyes shut. Man, but his ribs ache. Maybe he'll be dead by the time he wakes up. Hopefully.
Sleep, dearest champion, the dungeon says, almost tenderly.
"Whazzat?" Etho asks, squinting his eyes open to stare at the ceiling, but the dungeon has gone silent again accept for the occasional distant jingle of treasure and screech of vex. "Okay. Whatever." He passes out.
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blackleatherjacketz · 2 years
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Into It
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Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
This was an Anonymous Request, so here it is! Sorry it took me so long, and I hope you like it! It’s my first time writing for Stranger Things!
Summary: You’ve been friends with Eddie and the Hellfire Club boys for a while now. It isn’t until he sees you in your Morticia Addams costume that he expresses his true feelings for you. 
Warnings: Teen+, Friends to Lovers, Eddie Being AFFECTIONATE, Arm Kissing/Caressing, Kissing, Gomez/Morticia Addams Role Play, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Svengoolie, Indiana (I grew up in and still live there.)
Word Count: 1K
Read more of my stories HERE!
“It’s almost time for Svengoolie!” Eddie sings in an overly dramatic tone, walking up to you with fingers wiggling in front of his scrunched up face. “Tonight’s special feature:” he juts his arms out straight, stomping loudly around the living area. “The Bride of Frankenstein!” He smiles and waltzes around you, his extended digits tickling your hair and shoulders before gently smoothing their way down your arms as he plants himself behind you.
“You thought one half-dead monster was bad,” He imitates the voice of the showrunner, quickly moving to the other side of your face to finish his thought, “Just wait until you see this!” He squeezes your shoulders affectionately, all but picking you up and turning you around to face the television against the wall.
“I can’t wait,” you admit, trying not to let him see how wide your smile is.
“You’re gonna love it.” He pinches your skin again for good measure, brushing his hands down your arms as the metal of his rings cools your flesh through the black lace of your sleeves. He feathers them past your elbows and forearms, warming you back up as they finally reach your wrists, encircling them before weaving his fingers in between yours.
You stop breathing all of the sudden, your lungs holding the cool autumn air hostage inside your rib cage as his mouth gets closer to your neck. You thought the goosebumps on your skin were left over from the fun house you just left, but deep down you knew better than that.
“It’s not the Addams family or anything,” he takes your hand and places it just above your hip, pulling you in close, his palm on top of yours. “But it’s just as good.” He raises your other arm up to eye level, the leather of his jacket squeaking as he extends it out towards the door.
“Cara Mia,” he whispers in his best Gomez Addams voice.
“Gomez,” you whisper, keeping up appearances just in case the two of you decide to forget what’s about to happen.
He glances back at you for a split second as those brown eyes of his darken just the slightest bit, waiting for you to either nod or pull away. It’s the same look he gave you when you showed up tonight at the Haunted Castle in full costume, red lips and all. Up until then you thought he only reserved that look for his guitar, the way his lips curled into a satisfied grin, letting his teeth show through just a peak before he shook his head of whatever thought was creeping in. That smile only widened as he insisted on walking in line directly behind you, his hands finding themselves all over your shoulders, arms and waist to protect you from the ghouls that popped out of the walls in the narrow hallways of the keep.
You always knew you’d wanted Eddie as more than a friend, but finding your tribe in the Hellfire Club seemed to be more important to you than bringing up your true feelings. All of the friendships you’ve made through him and Dungeons and Dragons had finally given you the confidence to really be yourself, to drop the facade of caring what other people thought of you.
You decide to play along with him anyways, figuring he wouldn’t have initiated any of this if he didn’t feel the same way you did. You nod for him to continue and watch as his lips press into your palm, his other hand sliding further up your dress as he mouths his way up your arm just like you’ve always wanted him to. You feel your heart skip a beat as his hair falls down around your elbow, the intensity of his kiss increasing the higher up he goes. His lips part as they reach the bare skin of your shoulder, taking little bits of flesh into his mouth as he creeps up your neck and jawline before he stops dead in his tracks.
“Tish,” he whispers, still playing the role. His features seem to have softened somehow, the bright animation that lights him up during your party sessions receding as his lashes drop gently in front of his eyes.
You want to kiss him, your whole body is telling you that as it buzzes beneath his touch, feeding off the undeniable electricity of his charm as he holds your hand so far away from you. You bring that hand up slowly, his calloused palm and fingers practically hovering over your knuckles as they cradle the back of his head, carding themselves in tandem through his messy curls.
You take the leap, pressing your lips against his for the very first time as if you hadn’t already thought about doing so every single night for the past six months. You tilt your head to the side, opening your mouth to his as you memorize the texture of his lips and the taste of his skin as the distant flavor of tobacco still lingers. You inhale as he kisses you back, his tongue brushing against yours after parting your lips, a hint of honey you weren’t expecting colliding with your tastes buds. You’d never thought about what he would taste like when you fantasized about kissing him before, but this was better somehow, this was… real.
“I was kinda hoping you would do that.” He says after pulling away, grinning from ear to ear. That light is back inside of him again, animating his features in a whole new way.
“Oh yeah?” You let go of his head, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger as you finally turn to face him.
“Yeah.” He blinks and shakes his head nervously, the confidence of your favorite character leaving him faster than he anticipated. “Thought I wasn’t being obvious enough,” he laughs under her breath, tracing a strand of your long black hair into the hem of your costume. “But I didn’t want to push it if you weren’t into it.”
You lean forward and kiss him again, gripping him by the collar of his jacket as you pull him off balance, forcing him to grab your hips to steady himself. “I’m into it.”
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