dynazty
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THE BOY WHO CAME BACK TO LIFE. It sounds like something from a pulp tabloid on a grocery rack — not the typical sort of thing the bureau would send someone into the cornfields to investigate.
Steve looks at Munson sharply. “Do you have a theory?”
“I have plenty of theories. The biggest mystery to me is why it’s bureau policy to label these cases as ‘unexplained phenomena’ and then ignore them.” Munson leans closer into Steve’s orbit, hair tumbling in front of his eyes as a slow grin overtakes his face. He drops his voice to a low, eerie rumble. “Tell me, Agent Harrington, do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”
(Or: It's an X-files AU.)
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When it starts, it’s easy for Eddie to mistake the feeling in his chest for envy.
(Or: A college AU in which Steve and Eddie have known each other forever, Eddie is subjected to excruciatingly platonic declarations of love, Max is a little too perceptive, and Steve still goes to church sometimes.)
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“Go west,” Wayne told him during that last breath, hands tangled in Eddie’s jacket, red-brown soaking fast through the fabric of his flannel. Eddie had gotten him that flannel for his fiftieth birthday. Had traded that week's ration cards for it. “They got jobs out there. Go west and don’t fuckin’ turn around, kid. You hear me? Are you listening?”
There’s another noise. Not a snap, but a click. Near. Very near.
Shit.
Eddie opens his eyes to the muzzle of a shotgun not unlike his own trained directly at his forehead, sleek black metal gleaming in the sun. The man holding it is tall, a mess of brown hair and deep set eyes that cut into Eddie like daggers, mouth and nose covered by a blood-red bandana. He looks ready to shoot, but he hasn’t shot yet, and that’s got to be a good sign.
(Or: Stranded in middle of buttfuck-nowhere Wyoming, each and every decrepit ghost town crawling with half-dead Flayed, Eddie finds shelter in an unlikely place. A zombie apocalypse AU.)
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“Hey,” she says, her face lighting up. “Dare me to jump off that cliff into the water.”
“What cliff?” Nancy looks around, and Robin points to a ledge near the very top of the gorge.
"That one."
"Absolutely not. You'll die.”
"Will not!”
"You will," Nancy says. "And then everyone will know you got wasted on—” she glances back towards Robin’s drink “—half of a Bartles and died jumping off a cliff in your drunken delusion of invincibility."
"I love it when you talk fancy," Robin says with a grin, hands on her hips. "But I'm still gonna do it."
(Or: Nancy invites Robin to go swimming, post-S4.)
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“You’re not allowed to be in here.”
The stranger’s eyes are dark, but the flickering light of the oil sconce on the wall catches in their depths and there’s a wickedness there that immediately makes Steve freeze up. In a split second, the man steps back and slips a slender hand into his coat, withdrawing a gleaming brass-colored pistol. “I know,” he says, and Steve’s not sure how someone can sound so fucking casual when they're holding a gun and pointing it at his forehead, holy shit. “You might want to step back, man. Wouldn’t want to waste a bullet blowing off a face as pretty as yours.”
(Or: Steve Harrington is given a second chance at life when he's kidnapped and held for ransom at the mercy of a roguish young pirate—one that he might be falling a little bit in love with.)
Series
- Part 1 of as if the sea should part
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Louis de Pointe du Lac's hard-won independence is at risk. He's out of a job, out of money, and out of time. When he is offered a position in rockstar Lestat de Lioncourt's household as his daughter's live-in teacher and nanny, he's grateful. He can't know he is totally unprepared.
Series
- Part 1 of cord of communion
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Bookmarked by dynazty
12 May 2025
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It makes him sick sometimes: the fact he isn’t as unknowable to her as he used to think, as he’d like to think.
Bookmarked by dynazty
09 Apr 2025
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He’s a little bit ugly in this kind of light.
Bookmarked by dynazty
08 Apr 2025
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love is a battle i can win by palmviolet for beetlesandstars
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
25 Dec 2022
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"She’s taking a sip, dry and sharp on her tongue, when the doorbell rings a floor above, and she hears distantly Steve’s open delight, Robin, Dustin, back from the shit I won’t understand?
I’m a lesbian, Nancy thinks, taking another sip of wine. Eddie clinks his glass against hers and sneaks a slice of chorizo from Steve’s chopping board, tapping a finger against the side of his nose, shh, don’t tell, the way normal couples keep their secrets, the way honesty is earned and not borne on the back of a lie.
Love is a battle I can win. Nancy turns to face the door."
// Christmas 1994. Nancy faces her fears.
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A spatula from the cup of utensils next to the stove floats into the air, hangs there a second, and then smacks him directly on the forehead.
“Ow! Fuck, okay. I guess that’s a yes. Are you haunting my house or me specifically?” Him, it’s definitely him, but it doesn’t hurt to have confirmation.
The spatula waggles in his direction, and then smacks him in the head again.
“Fuck! You can tell me things without violence, you know!” The cold feeling he associates with it (her) goes through him again, and it feels like laughter. “Are you…is it…is it Barb? Are you Barb?”
There’s a long moment of silence—or, well, it’s all been silence, but a long moment in which nothing happens—and then the spatula goes hurtling through the air like it’s being thrown and smacks him in the eye, before falling to the ground.
Bookmarked by dynazty
14 Jun 2023