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#not that I think d&d were above writing that but it's so stupid
francy-sketches · 11 months
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People complaining that jon and dany didn't have kids in s8 is so silly to me bc the idea of a reanimated corpse being able to reproduce is just. if it happens in the books I'm gonna piss myself
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mcu-coworkers · 10 months
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You?
Summary: What you thought was your love story ended up being one cruel summer.
Word Count: 1k+
warnings: None really other than angry Miguel :I
A/n: amidst writing a part 3 for another story I got inspired by doctor strange and gave it a bit of a twist. Hope you guys like it!xx
Parts: One^ Two three Four
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You had never seen Miguel so angry before.
Sure he was always short with everyone and never smiled other than to laugh at someone.
But when he did laugh, even if it was at someone, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.
There were days when he’d call you into his office and ask you to update him on the spiders and the sectors they were handling and sometimes, if he was in a good enough mood, he’d ask about you.
Despite the mood swings, and his constant frown you wanted nothing more than to stand by his side and be there for all of it.
Peter B. though you were crazy for having feelings towards the coldest spider in the spider society but all things considered, he was probably right.
Only a crazy person would fall head over heels for someone who gave no sign of reciprocating feelings.
You had hope you’d get through one day.
That day definitely was not today.
You’d been caught up on a mission for the past couple of hours so you never responded to any of the comms. When you arrived back at HQ you were horrified by the mess.
You tried to ring Miguel but no luck, then you tried Jess, Ben, Gwen, shit, even Hobbie and still nothing.
Finally you were about to try Peter B. when he popped up behind you.
“You’re not gonna reach them, and honestly,  I   don’t think you want to.” he said as he held a very active May Day in his arms.
“What happened here?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper.
“ I  ‘d tell you but maybe it's better if you just watch.” he said, pulling up all the camera footage.
And holy shit.
Suddenly you felt a lot worse about ignoring those comms from Miguel.
“Shit.” you cursed under your breath.
“Yeah, listen  I   should get going. Miguel will be back soon and  I  ‘m the last person he’ll want to see.” he said, opening a portal.
“Bye Pete, take care of yourself okay?” You said with a soft smile as he slowly disappeared into the portal.
Looking back at the paused footage you didn't know what to think.
You understood Miles, but you also understood Miguel.
But still, seeing the way he handled this and how out of hand he got made chills run down your spine.
You didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened had he gotten through the shield of the go home machine.
Lost in thought you never heard Miguel enter the room.
“Where the hell have you been?” you heard him yell as he walked up to you.
You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of his tone.
“On a mission you know that Miguel” you said trying to not anger him further.
“ I   called you to come back, so where the fuck were you.” he wasnt letting up.
“Miguel  I  got the guy  I  -” you tried but he cut you off.
“When  I   say come back that means come back am  I   fucking clear?” he said, looking down at you.
You’d never felt so intimidated by him before, not even on the first day after being recruited.
“Yes sir.” was all you could manage to say.
Finally he stepped back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.
“Lyla pull up the records of the go home machine and tell me where it sent him.” He said turning his back to you.
You could hear the distress in his voice so you thought of a way to help.
Walking up to him with caution you put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, Maybe you need to take a step  back let someone else handle it.” you suggested.
“Yeah? Who?You? Thats a fucking joke. You could barely handle a stupid villain, you’ll never catch this kid.” he snarled, shrugging your arm off.
Taken back by his statement you felt a heavy weight on your chest.
“Miguel-” you tried but again you were cut off.
“What are you gonna say some inspirational shit? Tell me you're here to help?hm?” he asked, turning back to you.
“Yes, Miguel, I am here for you, always. But this, this is mania. Some things can't be fixed by yourself. ” You said the weight on your chest felt heavier.
When he stayed quiet you took it as a sign to keep going.
“Maybe this is a sign to consider stopping, look at how much of a toll this is taking on you.” you urged the man was grasping for straws at this point if they didn't find Miles he’d be lost.
“This is my life's work, there is no me without the multiverse.” he exclaimed, turning away from you.
“There are so many things that give your life meaning, that could give your life meaning.” you suggested, realizing what that last part sounded like you felt your face heat up.
Shit.
He stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Like what? You?”
Suddenly you felt your world come crashing down. You had nothing left to lose.
“Yeah. Me.” you said barely above a whisper.
“You care so much don’t you? You think  I   want your pity? That  I  need you?”he said aggressively.
“ I   have never pitied you.”you snapped back.
“Good, because  I   don't need it. And  I   don't need you.” and with that he turned back around leaning on his desk.
You had nothing left for him. Or the spider society.
“Goodbye, Miguel.” was all you said before you walked out of the room and opened the portal to go home, for good.
“That was a bit rough for someone you like, don't you think?” Lyla asked, watching Miguel as he looked over to the door you walked out of.
He decided to focus on one thing at a time, Miles now you later.
He knew you’d come back and when you did, he’d fix it.
If there was something he could fix in this fucked up world it was the mistakes he made with you.
“The files Lyla.” he said changing the subject.
Sighing, Lyla gave him what he wanted and left.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that you left your watch and your suit at HQ.
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junowritings · 1 month
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Could I request pre-romanced but interested Astarion (spawn), Gale, Halsin, and Rolan each reacting to Tav, in a moment of desperation, transforming into a silver dragon to save him from death. The kicker? Tav did not remember that they were a true dragon due to the tadpole wrecking their memory and is just as caught off guard by this revelation as he is.
Oh now this was too much fun to write! I ended up trying to generate a different scenario for each of them bc it was fun to imagine the context for each of them! :D
Astarion
♡ What a foolish thing; to let your guard down. Astarion knows better than most that nothing good would come of doing something so utterly stupid, no matter how safe. And yet he makes that very same pitfall after a battle with gnolls goes awry. Most of the beasts had been knocked off the nearby cliff-face, an underhanded tactic but he knew well to make use of the terrain even at the cost of any worthwhile loot. The rest had been picked off easily, and when Astarion buries his dagger into the gnoll prone beneath him the tension in the air finally seems to ease - the battle is over, for now.
♡ He’s still picking bits of viscera from his clothes, bemoaning the effort it’s going to take to pluck the gore from the decals when he spots you across the battlefield. You’re helping Karlach pry her axe free from getting a bit too gung-ho on an enemy’s skull, and he watches your face scrunch up from the effort with a snort. You catch his gaze when you look up, returning his fanged grin with an unamused huff of your own. It’s a sweet sight, even marred by blood and dirt, and Astarion makes a move to rise to his feet intending to amble over and watch you either succeed or count the axe as a loss. That was the plan-
♡ Until the carcass beneath him lurches, a screaming mass that in its death rattle bowls them both straight over the edge. And in the blink of an eye he’s in freefall, barely catching the look of horror on your face before he slips from sight.
♡ It’s nowhere near as graceful as the tales make believe. The wind bites at Astarion’s face and whips around him hard enough that his ears ring as hands try to grapple for purchase against the wall of the cliff. Nothing catches, only grabbing fistfuls of dirt and catching on rocks that crumble away beneath his fingers. No, no, no this was not how he was going to die; but there’s nothing to hold, nothing to see but the vast expanse of sky above his head as though taunting his very fate-
♡ And something else. Something large and scaled and burning silver as wings fan out enough to block out the sun as it appears practically out of thin air.
♡ A dragon. As if things couldn’t get worse?! Astarion’s cursing just about every force in the universe that he can think of as the beast plummets to close the distance. It’s there in seconds, a rippling wave of silver that swelters the very air as a taloned hand shoots out and catches him around the midsection. He expects to be eaten, maybe plucked to pieces right there and then; instead the dragon’s body rolls mid flight, curling close around the vampire spawn like a protective shield as the ground rushes to meet them. 
♡ The landing isn’t gentle, having been too close to the ground to take flight. Both hit the earth but it isn’t the fatal fall it could have been. At one point he slips from the dragon’s talons, and by the time he’s wormed his way free he’s marred by dirt and spitting leaves alongside the plethora of curses in his vocabulary. But he’s alive.
♡ He certainly wasn’t complaining about that, but his head is still spinning with the ‘why’ of it all - where had that beast come from? Why  hadn’t it killed him when it had the chance? He’s already looking for his dagger that had been lost in the fall as he scrambles to his feet, whipping around to face the dragon as he hears it stir. But he doesn’t find it. No, instead he finds-
♡ You. The last of the draconic visage crumbles like burned parchment, and you slump to your knees in the gouge your previous form had carved into the earth. Your hands tremble as you bring them up to your face, inspecting them like you’re checking that they’re truly there before your head shoots up to look at the vampire spawn you’d just saved. There’s a wild look in your eyes, confusion evident as you mirror his own slack jawed expression and trip over yourself to get back onto your feet with a scream of “What was that?!”
♡ At first he doesn’t believe your pleas of ignorance, and doesn’t get why you’re trying to protest so hard that you didn’t know. It’s not as though he hasn’t kept secrets from the group before - it’s not as though he willingly shared he was a spawn holding hands around the campfire like a jolly old fellow, did he? He’s not going to fault you for keeping your secrets so long as it’s not getting him killed. 
♡ But then he catches you pacing later that night back at camp, muttering to yourself of how you could forget and mulling over what else you’d lost with the tadpole. That kind of panic isn’t easy to fake, and you aren’t even aware of the audience to fake it. Has that tadpole altered your memories that thoroughly? A disturbing thought.
♡ Of course he’ll be the first person to encourage you to use this ‘new’ form of yours to your advantage - why wouldn’t you? It’s not everyday that someone finds out that they can turn into a hulking magical creature at the drop of a hat, so why not make the most of it? Not to mention it will be excellent for both combat and persuading anyone who makes the mistake of thinking that you’re easy prey.
♡ Of course that brings the whole other question of - why the hells did you jump after him?! Did you think your little friend in the artifact would somehow save the two of you again?! You hadn't even hesitated to reach for him; to protect him…Astarion doesn’t know whether to throttle you over your own self sacrificing logic, or kiss your damned face until any thought of risking your life like that again goes out of the window.
♡ Perhaps he’ll do both - he hasn’t decided yet.
♡ Plus, he’ll never admit it, but the camp feels a little safer knowing that it’s got a fire breathing, flying scaled powerhouse for a leader - might move his tent just a little closer to your own after that realization. 
Gale
♡ Wizards and close combat rarely mix well together. It has been somewhat of a running gag between the pair of you since the first tussle back at the grove when he nearly went sailing off the rocks he’d been casting from when a sword got far too close to his flank for his liking. You’d been there to save him, of course, biting back a teasing comment on his ‘graceful trip’ and trying not to chuckle as you’d helped the man back to his feet when it was all over. Gale naturally had been just as quick to remind you that even with his lack of tact for fisticuffs he was just as capable at keeping you as safe as you kept him. As he’d proved with a well timed magic missile not even one fight later,.
♡ The understanding was mutual - he’d protect you with all of the magic at his disposal, and you would do what you can to shield him on the battlefront. As you got closer, and the wizard got the opportunity to know you better, that protection evolved to something deeper. Something more than just having one another’s back out of necessity; the thought of any harm coming to you in the first place had been a sour notion, but now it was downright unthinkable. You took every blow meant for him without hesitation; pushed back any blade or arrow meant for him even if it led to adding a few more scars to your repertoire. And gods if you didn’t look absolutely stunning doing it.
♡ This time is no different. The sounds of battle ring in his ears, the clashing of weapons striking drowned out only by the roars of a group thrust into combat. Considering just how many unique faces make up their party (with a githyanki warrior, a renowned hero of the coast, and an excitable yet combustible tiefling - to name a few) Gale is surprised that bandits would even try their luck against this gaggle of adventurers. But where your group has skill, theirs has numbers, and this fight has been going on long enough that everyone is exhausted, frayed and running out of steam.
♡ He watches you on the other side of the battlefield, weapon clutched tightly in clenched fists and eyes burning with the fire of combat as you call out to your companions. You’re trying to pinpoint everyone's locations, caught up in the fighting as your weapon comes down on a bandit’s head. Multiple voices call out to you and Gale opens his mouth to join them, the air around crackling as he rears back to cast another spell. But the words barely get past his lips before he feels a solid blow to the back of the head and for just a second his world goes white. There’s a kick to his back and the world topples before he hands on him. 
♡There is a fist wrapped up in his hair and a blade so close to his gut to breathe is a risk. One of the bandits - how had they gotten so close without him noticing? Had he gotten complacent thinking he was safe from his vantage point? A knee digs into him and the wheeze he lets out is pained as he attempts to throw the bandit off. But Gale’s not a fighter, and it’s getting harder to think straight when another hard yank knocks his head against the ground with a harsh crack. Magic pulses at his fingertips as they rake up dirt, the words forming in his mouth hoping to get them out before that blade decides to get familiar with his insides. If only he could just-
♡ What comes next happens suddenly. A rush of air, an unrelenting wave of heat and the weight suffocating him is gone. The bandit’s body is hoisted up in a cushing jaw, only able to get out little more than a scream before they’re essentially ragdolled across the field. The threat of an imminent gutting is gone, but Gale finds himself unable to breathe once again as he realizes what exactly has descended upon him.
♡ Multiple times his size with several layers of thick silver hide, and adorned with thick leathery wings, a dragon prowls overhead. Slitted eyes scan across the battlefield, taking in the carnage and what remains of the stragglers that Gale’s companions haven’t taken down with a surprisingly clarity. It’s…looking for something? No, someone - your companions. He watches the creatures head tilt, letting out something akin to a billowing rumble before setting its sights back on the wizard still very much pinned beneath it. 
♡ The dragon’s head leans down, a huff of air feeling sweltering against his face as he comes face to snout with the creature that could easily turn him into wizard-chow with but a bite of that wall of teeth in its maw. But it doesn’t; instead it lets out another huff and there’s a ripple that seems to shake every single scale on its body before it’s shifting. It shrinks, morphs, changes into someone all too familiar as you drop down to your knees. Poor Gale almost gets a limb to the gut again as you slump down beside him, shaking off some sort of daze as you come back to your senses. It’s you - that dragon was you?
♡Gale doesn’t realize he’s shouting till he hears your own voice shouting along with him just as confused and panicked. Surely the pair of you must look like fools, unable to get out any kind of coherent word as your brains catch up to. You end up having to cover his mouth with your hand so that there’s enough quiet to actually process what has just happened, but Gale doesn’t miss how utterly lost you look about the whole ordeal - clearly this is as much news to you as it is to him.
♡ Once things have calmed down (and he’s checked to make sure he didn’t infact get punctured by a stray talon on the way down) Gale is absolutely fascinated. Nothing short of a kid in a candy store, this man is enthralled by the implications of your transformation. He knows you’re shaken of course, and he gives you time to do whatever you need to to ground yourself before he thinks to act upon any of his burning questions. He hopes to shed some light on things by working through these questions with you, hoping that they’ll spark some recollection you couldn’t remember before. 
♡ He’s tactful, tries to be subtle but you can tell that he’s clearly excited to learn about the origins of this ability. Is it related to your bloodline? Or were you perhaps cursed? Could this be some kind of advanced wildshape unbefore discovered? It doesn’t hurt you, does it? The last question gives the wizard pause, and he can’t quite relax till you assure him that the process doesn’t cause you pain.
♡ Depending on if your memories came back after your first transformation, you’ll only be able to give him so many answers. Feel free to practice your abilities around him though. At first he keeps a safe, out of the line of fire-distance, but it doesn’t take long before he inches closer until he’s close enough to run a hand along your flank if you allow him. There is an almost reverent touch alongside his curiosity as he marvels at the sight of you - breathtaking, is the only word he can find to describe it as you extend a wing for him to examine. 
Halsin
♡ Halsin has lived long enough to see many beings, experience many things. But he’s not fool enough to simply assume that he’s seen all that this world has to offer. There are still plenty of things to discover, many days and events he has yet to live amongst these new companions that have stumbled their way into the druid’s life.
♡Every moment with you has been a shining example of that fact - from the tadpole in your skull that you somehow manage to resist with each passing day, to the very way you approach the world around you. You somehow always managed to leave Halsin guessing, trying to wrap his head around the impossibility of you - regardless of you background, regardless of your creed or the life you lived before the tadpole, you remained a walking anomaly. Once which kept him on his toes, wondering what facet of you that you would reveal to him next.
♡ Of course he had done the same for you - you’d just about knocked your whole team over when he’d transformed after you’d first rescued the druid; recalled to you events and moments in his life that had anyone else told you, you would have called bullshit. It was a mutual exchange - you were open to him, and so he would do the same for you. He trusted you after all, and hoped you felt the same for him.
♡ That trust extended to the battlefield as well. Halsin’s desire to protect extended to the entirety of your party, naturally, but you were under a watchful eye with this man. Your penchant for the disregard of your own safety left much to be desired in the ways of keeping you safe; the needs of others or obtaining what you want often put above your own safety in the throes of a fight. Your habits of getting into trouble were something he grows far used to by now, so Halsin willingly takes the mantle of your protector, if only to save you from all of the scratches and scars that you’ll no doubt earn yourself down the road with your current mindset.
♡ Such as now. Within a wildshape, Halsin acts as a defensive shield for the other companions in a fight against a stray goblin raiding party. The leftover dregs of the ones from back at the temple that were set on hunting the party down long after the fall of the cultist once housed there. Teeth and claws rip and tear into goblin flesh and bone with ease, the bear acting as an utter powerhouse shrugging off each and every hit as though he was being poked with sticks and not swords. Things look to be over swiftly, as alongside the attacks of yourself and your other companions the goblin’s ranks are quickly dwindling - having either been felled by your defense or fled once they realize it was not a fight so easily won. With luck, you’ll all be back at camp before sundown.
♡ It is you who warns him that that’s not the case. He hears your voice, hears your scream of his name and Halsin cranes his head in an attempt to seek you out worried that something had happened to you when he wasn’t looking.
♡ But then a blinding light bursts against his side and he roars, loud and anguished at the sudden pain that washes over - some kind of explosive, brutal and all too effective against the druid. It’s enough for him to drop, barely still clinging to his wildshaped form as he braces against the earth in a bid to get back to his feet. What’s left of the goblins swarm, threatening to overwhelm him in his vulnerability and Halsin prepares himself for the approaching onslaught that closes in on him.
♡ Then something slams overhead, the squeals and cries of the goblins drowned out by a blinding roar that rings in the air like a toll as something impossibly large lands above Halsin and the goblins barricading them from their assault behind the wall of its body. A thick sweltering heat takes over, emanating from scales that glint like fine silver as the large body of a dragon settles overhead, and the area around them becomes alive with noise and chaos in its wake. 
♡ The very ground trembles under thick clawed footfalls - the trees groaning barely avoiding the wrath of this dragon as it rises to its full height and lunges for the attackers. The goblins never stand a chance - whichever ones weren’t smart enough to scarper before are taken out with little more than a snap of jaws and the swipe of a tail. Large claws break into the earth below, digging deep as though to ensure the dragon doesn’t move an inch from the druid’s side even as the last of the goblins are reduced to shreds. 
♡ When it is all over the creature visibly loses its hostility as it rounds once again upon Halsin. A firm nudge to his side, as gentle as a beast of this size can be and Halsin manages to push himself back to his feet, shedding the form of his barely clinging wildshape as exhaustion settles heavily upon his shoulders. By this point he knows that it means no harm, head pressed to his side until he’s firm in his stance before slinking away and circling around the druid as though appraising, checking for more damage. When none is found there’s a twitch, a shift in its tail that works its way up to its skull as though its very being is unraveling before Halsin’s eyes - and that’s exactly what happens.
♡ Scales and talons shift and rend, giving way to familiar flesh and a face the druid has all but committed to memory. This time he is the one to offer support, large hands coming up to brace upon your shoulders as you stumble over yourself looking about with a bewildered expression. “That was…what did I…?” Your words are met with a gentle assurance that that can be tackled in due time - it’s better to tackle those questions with a clearer head after nursing your injuries. And he’ll be right there will you, even guiding you back to camp till you practically insist that you’ll be fine on your own.
♡ Halsin has heard of many species and many abilities, but nothing that’s quite like a dragon shifter. At least, not one like you seem to be. You seem just as distraught by that knowledge, alongside the fact that this appears. Yet another thing that the tadpole has taken from you, if your belief to have had this ability before is true. It isn’t much different than using wildshape, as you learn once you talk through the experience with Halsin - what you were feeling before, what you were thinking. You admit that the only thing on your mind had been protecting him when you’d turned, horrified at the sight of him hurt and just out of your reach to save. The look of momentary surprise on Halsin’s face melts into something far softer at the revelation, a gentle praise at your own thoughtfulness to protect others that may leave you feeling bashful.
♡ Halsin actively encourages you to shift whenever you feel the desire to do so. Learn more about this form and what it means to you; refamiliarize yourself with a part of you that you’ve been separated from for such a time. He’ll talk you through it should you express any need for support, but he knows that you’re more than capable of controlling this aspect of yourself just as you have before. Of course he’ll also be admiring you the whole time, nothing but honest praise about the power of your form and the beauty of this other part of you.
Rolan
♡ It was a mistake to have ever come to the shadowlands - now Rolan is losing everything. Cal, Lia, his very own life; all of it is going to be snuffed out by the oppressive darkness which has defiled every inch of this place, and he’s powerless to do anything to stop it. All he had wanted to do was to make a life for his family, to make Rolan a name that they and others could be proud of. But every good deed seemed to only make things worse in the end - hells had even that one act of kindness saving those damned kids been rewarded like this? Not even his attempt to save his siblings had worked and now he was facing perishing in a land where death was never kind, as though the world was giving him one final kick when he was down to remind him of his own shortcomings. 
♡ Shadows circle in, lured in by the dwindling embers of his torch which is the only thing barely keeping him alive in this forsaken wasteland. But that is not enough; they claw at the edges of his light, ripping and tearing at the hem of his robes and grasping for his ankles, hoping to get a foothold on the tiefling long enough to drag him off into the darkness to never be seen again. Panic unfurls in his gut, burning brighter than the useless glorified stick clenched between sharp nails as he wrenches himself free of their grasp and stumbles over himself trying in vain to make some distance.
♡ He’s got minutes at the most, moments at the least; and those creatures writhing in shadow and dark have the luxury of biding their time waiting out his final seconds. He’s going to die here - without ever seeing his siblings again. What had he ever done to deserve such a cruel ending?
♡ But it doesn’t end - at least, not here.
♡ A roar breaks through the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears, and every hair on the back of his neck stands up as a chill shoots down his spine like a shot of ice. What, had some worse creature come to finish him off? As if being torn to shreds within the shadowlands wasn’t bad enough, now he’s got to contend with something bigger. And gods, is it bigger. Even through the thick smog of the shadowlands it stands out like a beacon of silver, its very scales giving off a faint glow within the darkness as though the shadows themselves are reviled by its presence alone. A feeling sinks within the pit of his chest the moment that he realizes what manner of creature is stalking towards him.  A dragon - gods, why did it have to be a dragon?!
♡ The beast is huge, a rippling wall of impenetrable flesh that cuts through the space between them in little more than a few bounds. Wings stretch wide, an impressively intimidating display as taloned hands slam down on where the shadows persist. The shadows dissipate easily beneath its claws but their shriek in indignation warbles uselessly, clearly not expecting the sudden attack in their bid for new prey. What the shadows have in number the dragon compensates for in size, easily swiping down a handful before attempting to latch onto another with its sizable maw.
♡ Rolan can’t tell if it’s doing any damage, but whatever perceived slight this dragon has on the shadows Rolan isn’t going to question. The shadows have their attention turned to the beast; if he has any intention of making it out alive he reasons he needs to get out of here now. But that’s easier said than done when one wrong move could have him meeting the business end of a stray swipe or the lingering shadow taking the opportunity to pounce. He’s going nowhere - not while the fight persists.
♡ Eventually the shadows must decide that facing a dragon isn’t worth the trouble just for making the meal out of the tiefling, and no sooner had Rolan been surrounded, the shadowy figures slink back into the deepest recesses of the darkness. A wave of relief warms his bones at the realization that they’ve slithered back to whatever domain formed them - he’s alive.
♡ But then those slitted eyes land back on him, and Rolan decides his chances may have been better dealing with those shadows. His attempts to escape are thwarted, the dragon rounding on him in a manner far slower than the frantic thrashing of before. No, it’s watching him, and the tiefling is rendered frozen at the curious way it tilts its head as though it recognizes something familiar.. 
♡ Almost jumps out of his own skin when it nudges him, a quick bump of its head that almost knocks him flat. Rolan barks out a curse, but the winged creature insists on pushing him till he finally takes the hint and moves to where it’s clearly wanting him to go. Gods, this is unnerving and he doesn’t know what it wants until the nudging finally stops and he finds himself staring down at the lump of belongings haphazardly discarded at his feet. And he tenses. 
♡ This pack - that lantern - he knows who they belong to at a glance. And no sooner has he put the pieces together that there’s a ripple of energy, a shift in the very air as the dragon before him begins to change. It molds into something else, taking on a form far more familiar - the last face he’d thought to see, but perhaps the one he should have expected.
♡ You just about keel over, clutching your knees and shaking bad enough to match his own as you let out a wheeze. You’re not worse for wear aside from the general health risks of being out in a land so tainted by dark magic, but even as you dust yourself off and look over at Rolan, you once again leave him speechless with a quick quip of “So…that was new.”
♡New? NEW?! You mean you just suddenly discovered your shifting abilities, like some twisted epiphany?! The pair of you must be a right sight, huddled around the moon lantern with him slack jawed and you looking more confused than you have any right to be after that stunt. It’s too much to process, and he’s still reeling from the near death experience and everything that has happened in such a short amount of time. Doesn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he would have in his right mind when you urge him to go back to the inn - you’re grateful for that, or he might have insisted on coming with you even more.
♡ He doesn’t get to grill you on your abilities until everyone is finally safe. Many are enjoying what little respite they can get before they move on to the next place away from here, and he catches you finishing up your own business at the inn hoping for answers before you leave. Like Astarion, he has doubts that you didn’t know. Really? Not even an inkling to the draconic blood in your veins or where it had come from. Tries not to be frustrated at the shrug you offer in response, having to remind himself that this is a new development for you - he’s not going to pry you with questions when you’re likely still struggling to wrap your head around the prospect yourself.
♡ Once Rolan realizes what had triggered your transformation he goes uncharacteristically quiet, staring hard at your face as though trying to gauge your bluff. When he finds none his voice breaks with his gratitude, hiding the shake behind a cleared throat as he breaks eye contact suddenly struggling to meet the sincerity in your gaze. That was…perhaps he needed to rethink what exactly that - he - meant to you another time; in a place where there’s not always life or death on the line.
313 notes · View notes
risuola · 8 months
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Please hear me out!
i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.
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LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku
cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words
a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3
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It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?
* * *
“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.
“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”
“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”
“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.
You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.
That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.
Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.
When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.
Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.
Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.
“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”
“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”
“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”
“I know Suguru.”
“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”
“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”
“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.
“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”
“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“
“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”
You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.
* * *
Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.
It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.
That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.
Kill on sight.
Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.
“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.
“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”
“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.
Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.
“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”
“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.
“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?
“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”
“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”
“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”
“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”
“An army of Toji?”
“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”
 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”
“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”
“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”
“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”
“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.
“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.
All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.
“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.
“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.
And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.
The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.
The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.
“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.
Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.
“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”
Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.
“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.
“’ts okay, ‘toru.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”
“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”
“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.
“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.
You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.
Until you were not.
“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“
“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.
* * *
October 31, 2018
21:18
Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.
Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.
“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”
“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.
“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”
“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“
“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”
“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”
“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.
“What did you do to her?!”
“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”
Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.
“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.
“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.
“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”
“We won’t let you-“
“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”
The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.
“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.
“Gate close.”
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stariekis · 3 months
Text
platonic feelings (or not).
pairing : guitarist!jay + fem!reader . genre : fluff . cw : kissing, skinship and nothing more i think ~ . wc : 2.4 k (that's actually insane gosh..)
— synopsis : friends also write love songs to each other ... and they also kiss sometimes ... right ? like that's normal ... right ?
— note : you, me, everyone loves guitarist jay ! and i'm obsessed with this jay live (pics above) so why not make a whole one shot abt him : D hope you guys like it ~ reposts and all kinds of feedback are always appreciated <3
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Love songs are supposed to be written for your lover, not platonically lover but romantically. So why does Jay feels the need to write you one, he doesn't love you like that... right ?.
Of course he loves you, you've been best friends for the longest time, then why does he feel butterflies every time you are around ? Why does he get nervous every time you meet ? Why are you the only one on his mind ? Is he actually falling in love with his childhood best friend ?.
This brings us to the current situation. He was all alone in his room, his guitar on top of his thighs and the notebook he always use to compose his songs open on top of his desk. The page where the notebook was opened was filled with love letters and little hearts, all of them dedicated to you.
Jay has his own way to express his feelings and this was through songs, so that's why, as soon as he realizes his feelings toward you, he started writing one, hoping one day he would be able to sing it to you.
Little did he know that that moment was seconds ago to happen.
— 'Hey there pretty boy' said a female voice behind him. When he realized that it was actually your voice his eyes widened, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you entering his room.
Closing the notebook rapidly he turned around in his chair looking directly at you. You were comfortably sitting in his bed, your leg crossed and a big smile plastered on your lips. And again, Jay's heart skipped a beat.
— 'Your mum let me in, she said that you were here so i wanted to come and see you' you said, eyes looking from his guitar to his desk where the notebook was. — 'Are you writing again Jjongie ?'
He was screwed. His best friend who he is in love with just discovered that he was writing a song, a song about her, and on top of that you asked him to sing it. He can't do that. — 'Well um i haven't finished it yet' he said looking at his feets.
But he knows you too well, he knows how stubborn you are and that you would keep asking him to sing it no matter what so, when you asked for the second time with pouty lips he couldn't refuse.
When you hear the song you were shocked to say the least. You weren't stupid, you knew that you both were more than childhood best friends, but hearing him basically confessing to you through a song was enough to confirm it.
Getting up from his bed you came closer to him without breaking eye contact. Now standing in front of him you took his guitar into your hands and you put it aside, sitting in his lap right after.
— 'Jay this is the best thing someone has done for me, you know that right ? ' he nodded at your words with a smile on his face, his hand around your waist rubbing the bare skin there and his eyes shining brightly.
Both of you were drowning in each other's embrace. He said, whispering even — 'I'm so in love with you god ' cupping your face with one of his hands and leaning in, connecting your lips in the sweetest kiss you've ever received.
Pulling away slightly you said those words he has been wanting to hear from you for so long. — 'I'm in love with you too, my rockstar' your lips connecting again, you could feel him smiling in between kisses.
So yes, best friends can also kiss and write love songs about each other but clearly they are never platonically.
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konigsblog · 9 months
Note
Hi! This is my first time asking something :D 
Do you do anything, not nsfw? And if so, what would some random könig headcanons you agree with? Like habits and stuff you’d think he’d do? (does that make sense lmao)
If you just do nsfw you could make them nsfw headcanons.. Or just combine both aha
**HII.. i do write for sfw and fluff, as well as angst it's just not really requested as much as smut :) but here, hope you enjoy this!!! 🌙
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silly könig headcannons
⭒ mentions of weed use, fluff.. 🌷🎀
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⭒könig who prefers cats over dogs. they're quieter and calmer, has a ginger cat called ‘spice’ that's fiesty to new people. he loves the animal to death, and hands it to his oma when he's on deployment.
⭒i've mentioned this before, but i feel like könig was in a band as a kid, just a school one. he played the drums and was pretty emo in his teenager years...
⭒he sleeps in the weirdest positions. he'll either wake up with his body contorted into different ways, his arms above his head and across his chest with his legs intertwined with eachother.
⭒he's an easily jealous person, always top of his classes and getting 100% on his tests. his mother always wanted the best outcome for her son, so she was shocked when he decided to join the kommando spezialkräfte instead of becoming a doctor or a lawyer.
⭒has 100% attempted to get up but fell because his legs were stuck and tangled in his bedsheets.
⭒gets second hand embarrassment far too easily. he's cringing on the inside when someone does/says something stupid.
⭒absolutely hates the summer. it's horrible; everybody's sweaty and stinks, missions make him want to peal his skin off. definitely prefers autumn/winter.
⭒his favourite food to eat whilst sick is soup, a special homemade soup him and his mother made together while growing up. her own special recipe that he only teaches to his closest of friends.
⭒loves late night conversations. they're so deep and understanding, chatting for hours 'til your jaw hurts and the sun his peaking through the curtains.
⭒either drinks black coffee, really bitter. or drinks the most sugary coffee ever, no in-between. (tell me your opinions)
⭒is a morning person. gets up early and has his breakfast, something quick and easy, like toast or porridge (oatmeal), has a morning shower 'nd everything. (i love adding salt to my porridge/oatmeal)
⭒hates when people say germany and austria are the same. will definitely have a whole rant about the differences 'til you understand fully.
⭒smokes weed a lot, pretty much an addict. he says it's to calm his nerves down but he gradually started doing it more and more often. a stoner fs.
⭒enjoys movies, a lot. he loves sitting down with a blanket beside him, covered in orange cat hair. will probably make a bowl of popcorn to eat whilst watching, but ends up eating it all before he's even 30 minutes in.
big, bear hugs. we all know that the big, brute and towering man gives amazing hugs, but he really wants to lay atop of you, to cage you with his warmth.
⭒has a tendency to over share, rants sometimes while pretending to be confident, finding anything to talk about before feeling a bit uncomfortable with what he'd said.
⭒isn't shy. it's my biggest pet peeve when people make könig out to be someone shy, scared, ect.. he's not shy, he's socially anxious, but that doesn't make him quiet. he either puts on a front and pretends to be confident with a cocky, loud personality.
⭒absolutely adores milk. he drinks like a gallon in two days, that's why he's 6’10.
⭒enjoys mint chocolate chip ice cream, hates strawberry, especially if they have chunks. (self projecting)
⭒enjoys doing the dishes, finds it satisfying. until he touches food and gags.
⭒avid banana hater, the texture to the taste, everything about it makes him feel ill.
⭒listens to music for hours, usually something rock or heavy metal, loud music in his ears and the loud explosions gives him some hearing damage.
⭒usually smells woodsy, fresh cut trees and vanilla.
⭒germaphobe. doesn't like being near people when they're sick and will avoid them, probably because he gets sick too easily, despite having a strong immune system.
⭒isn't a very emotional person, he has sympathy for others but can't express it through tears and emotions. he's cold and aggressive to the recruits, blaming them for his issues because he struggles taking blame and fault for situations and needs a punching bag.
⭒owned a fish when he was around 7, cried because it died. turns out it was alive and he saw it swim down the toilet. never got another fish again, traumatized.
⭒doesn't like being told he's in the wrong, will refuse and deny it 'til he's forced to either apologise or end the friendship.
⭒curly ginger, or wavy ginger, you can't change my mind.
⭒doesn't really understand tiktok that much, or instagram. not really something that he's interested in, but occasionally uses twitter for like 5 minutes.
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⭒has anemia, or iron deficiency. takes a couple naps a day because he doesn't like taking his supplements.
these are all i could think off 😵‍💫 tell me your personal headcannons!!
banner credit; @cafekitsune
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cyyfics · 7 months
Note
hi! do you write for evil marcy? hcs about her would be nice :D
————-
Evil Marcy Dating Hc’s
Pairing: Evil! Marcy x reader
Warning(s): NSFW! At end. Kindve toxic?? She’s kinda obsessed w u but also not rly ?? Idk
Note: I totally forgot she existed oh my glob yuh I write for her ^_^
Second Note: I didn’t know wether or not to make the reader a human or a vampire ?? But I ultimately chose human in the end..
Gender stuff: mainly gn, some afab and some amab terms at end. Each bit seperate!
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———-
Sfw
- she teases you. Just for a bit of playful fun, maybe she will go and say something just to fluster you, or she will find some other way to turn your cheeks red.
- she loves it when you blush, finds it cute, but sort’ve in a demeaning way. ‘It’s so cute when the blood of a human rushes to their face.’ Marceline thinks to herself often when she teases you.
- she is super duper protective of you, you and her both know that yes she’s super powerful and rules over practically everyone- but she can’t help but be just a tad bit worried that some greedy underling would possibly eat her plaything if she let it out of her sight. (Same thing that happened to her fries. /j)
- she will keep you in her bedroom most of the time, just not wanting you to get hurt out there. Of course she will still let you out though, as long as she’s with you, if you went alone who knows what would happen? You’d probably get eaten.
- she pampers you heaps, maybe like one would do to their pet however. She would find food for you to eat, obviously you can’t eat the same things as her so she has to go out often to find stuff for you. In any other universe you’d find the food she gives you to be disgusting and revolting, but since you were used to the harsh (and alternate) world you were in- it was actually like eating a meal at a five star restaurant.
- In that universe food for everyone is scarce and what food that’s left for humans is normally rotted or doesn’t exist anymore. The food that exists in that universe now is stuff like rats/mice that you were lucky to find, and water which you’d have to manually filter the gross stuff out of. If you didn’t, you’d get sick, and with the universe being the way it was- there’d be no medicine to help if you got sick. And you’d probably die.
- speaking on that- Marceline also forces lowly vampires to get you food as well, she will check that it is not suspicious in any way before letting you eat it though. And if she finds something that looks somewhat off? Like maybe a bruise on some fruit, or a slight discolouration to meat, they will be met with an instant death. A snap to the neck before she rips their head off. No one will harm you.
- the king doesn’t love your relationship all that much, finds that you’re a nuisance. In all honesty he’s very worried that you may soften Marceline too much, but that’s actually not true at all. In fact you’d brought something new out of her, with the way she would instantly kill anyone and anything for you.
- the two of you fell in love one day by accident actually, the two of you were just around the same area at the same time. She was soaring above the skies and spotted you, flying down at you like a hawk and about to quickly eat you.
- somehow she didn’t, you don’t really know for sure why she didn’t but when she finally came down to bite you she just couldn’t. Her eyes met yours, and she hissed right in your face just before she left.
- you saw her again, because this time you just had to. You had to know why she let you go that one time, especially with a reputation of killing every single human she comes into contact with.
- she saw you too, not coming out to talk to you but just letting you stay alive out there. She was getting ready in her mirror, thinking to herself about you as a vein pulsed just above her eyebrow in annoyance. ‘Stupid human, what do they think they’re doing?’
- but again. She found herself letting you live.
- and that’s what kept happening, you’d find ways to run into her and talk with her and she’d actually respond sometimes. Other times she’d hiss and fly away, but the times that she did respond just made your relationship stronger.
- she likes kissing you, everywhere and any time. She likes kissing your lips, your flushed cheeks, your neck- you know you probably shouldn’t let her kiss there. But she adores it. She finds it oh so cute how you’d trust your puny little human life in her hands, oh how easy it’d be to just kill you.. but she doesn’t, she simply pecks the area as she hugs your waist
- most of her minions and just people in general that she just rules over have respect for you, I know I said that a lot would try to eat you but that’s because her people are starving. Some of them can’t help it. But the ones who can show respect to you just as they would for their queen.
- Marceline wishes you were meaner to people, but instead you’re just soft- but whenever you get angry or annoyed at something- oh she’s just fawning over you.
- “you stupid thing! Don’t you ever knock?! Get out before I stake you!” You hiss as a henchman turns the doorknob, catching you together with Marceline. Marceline’s face softens as she looks at you with adoration, right before she gives you a mischievous smirk.
- “didn’t know you had it in you to be so mean.” She giggles to herself “was that mean?” You ask dumbfounded not even realising that you had just chewed out that man- “very. And I loved it.” And she pulls you into a kiss in her arms.
- she likes to dress you up, likes to doll you up in her clothes and have you sit there looking pretty for her. She likes to stare at you when you’re just doing things, her darkened eyes just curious with what you’re doing constantly.
- if you ever try to jump scare her, she will find it cute and laugh at you. If you succeed? She will be so proud of you.
Nsfw
Warning(s): biting, blood, period blood talk AT END so avoid that if ur not into that at all, there’s also talks abt her being into scaring you and u being like scared idk what kinda kink that is
- she teases you. Degrades you.
- she loves degrading you actually, but more in a teasing and humiliating way than a mean way.
- on the other hand though, she also likes to praise you. It depends on how she feels at the time.
- Again. (She likes kissing your lips, your flushed cheeks, your neck- you know you probably shouldn’t let her kiss there. But she adores it. She finds it oh so cute how you’d trust your puny little human life in her hands, oh how easy it’d be to just kill you..) but in a lewd way.
- she plays with your fear, it excites her and it excites you- every time her fangs hover over your neck it makes a shiver go down your spine. She can feel that you’re scared and she loves it.
- has a prey/predator kink, she likes to let you run outside and then she likes to chase after you. Maybe some other vampires will occasionally wanna chase after you too, but she will easily kill them before ‘capturing’ you and returning you to her sweet bed.
- she will ravage you. In a good way.
- she WILL pounce on you.
- she’s the kind of girl to push you on the bed roughly and take you whenever she wishes. (And you too obviously)
- if you don’t wanna have sex and she roughly pushes you onto the bed, you just say so, and she understands and instead just lays there with you then. She will play with your hair, your shirt, just hanging out with you.
- if you let her peg you, she will do it any chance she gets. She loves to have you below her, looking up at her with those pretty glossy eyes as she just takes you on the bed.
- speaking of, she also likes having you ride her. She thinks it’s so cute when you sit on top of her grinding your hips against the strap.
- she will bite you, if you let her. Her teeth will just gently graze at your skin as she’s kissing you, licking up your neck, her fangs just slightly brushing over the most dangerous parts.. one wrong move and you’d be dead, and that fact sends her head spinning- as well as yours.
- she likes to tie you up, having you be so submissive to her is so adorable. She loves having you be so vulnerable to her every move.
- she will happily sit on your face, and not even just a light hover but actually putting a bit of weight down onto you. Her thighs crush the side of your head only a little, the slight asphyxiation from the situation amusing both her and you.
- she likes to nip at your thighs, if she’s down there teasing your sex she will also like to kiss at your soft thighs- before her teeth very gently sink into the skin. Leaving bite marks on the inside of your thighs, leaving cute reminders of what happened later on.
NSFW (if you have a vagina + period, some words are fem leaning in some of the hc’s)
- she likes to eat you out, wether you’re on your back or riding her face. She likes how scared you can get sometimes, knowing how close her very sharp teeth are down there.
- when you get your period, every vampire will know about it. No one will dare come near you nor Marceline when you are though, because if they do they know Marceline will murder them instantly.
- Marceline likes it when you’re on your period, she will eat you out when you are too. “That’s so gross though-“ you protest, and yet she’s there looking at you through her eyelashes as she enjoys this meal. After all, it’s the only time she can actually enjoy enough of your blood without actually harming you.
- she doesn’t care if blood gets onto her clothes or bed or anything, she will just lick it up or wash it later. It’s not uncommon for a vampire to be covered in blood so.
- (she loves degrading you actually, but more in a teasing and humiliating way than a mean way.) saying things like “you’re already so wet.. I barely even did anything” as she slips your panties to the side.
- she loves to praise you too though sometimes. “That’s my good girl, taking the strap so well..” she kisses your cheek. And a “You look real pretty when I touch here.” She says as she’s curling her fingers inside you.
NSFW (if you have a penis, some words are male leaning in some of the hc’s)
- She likes how much you trust her with letting her suck you off, she doesn’t normally put the whole thing in her mouth because the two of you are afraid of her teeth- but when she does do it? It feels so so good.
- she’d probably be into cock and ball torture I’m sorry.
- just like how she likes it when you blush because of the blood rushing to your face- she also likes giving you random boners. She teases you because she loves the way the blood runs to the head of your cock, making an uncomfortable situation in your pants.
- loves degrading… whenever you get hard she pretends she didn’t do anything, “you’re such a pervert.”
- she will (if ur into it) call you a gross little man thing, telling you that you’re very very lucky that a woman like her is even near your filthy cock.
- loves praise too though.
- she- if she feels like it- will worship your cock too. As she’s praising you of course. “So pretty for me, let me help you..”
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twola · 1 year
Note
Wanted to say I looovvve how you write Arthur! Since you’re taking requests I was wondering if you’d do something like the nsfw alphabet for him or just general headcanons for him? Thank you:)
I’ve always wanted to do one of these. Thanks for the nudge! For reference, our boah is high-honor for this.
Drop a line and tell me which one is your favorite!
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NSFW Alphabet : Arthur Morgan
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He’s usually a panting, groaning mess after orgasm, but as soon as he catches his breath, he’s peppering your face with kisses, heaping praise upon you.
“Such a good girl.” He’ll rumble in those low timbres, his deep voice sex-hoarse as he gently wipes his spend from your skin.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Arthur loves the gentle slope - the long curve of your neck. He loves kissing it, suckling at it, leaving marks and bruises as he not so secretly enjoys you having physical signs that you’re his.
He’s not one to think much of himself, he’s known to degrade himself, but if you were insistent on an answer,  he would say his arms. Broad and strong from years of hard living - heaving hunted animals over his shoulder, roping horses, beating men. His arms draw you into the line of his body, wrapping around your waist and keeping you secure and safe.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He’s not an idiot. Not at this point in his life. Having had gotten a girl pregnant and living in proximity to John’s stupidity with Abigail, he knows that the temporary high of spending into a woman wasn’t worth the risk of conceiving a child.
Doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish, want, so much, to spend within your warmth, not to pull himself from you jerkily.
If he were another man, in another life, not running in an outlaw gang - he would love to stay inside, to create life within you - to watch you grow and birth his child. If only. If only.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Big, bad gunslinger - outlaw - criminal, god, he would never hear the end of it if others knew how he whimpers as you nudge that spot beneath his testicles, your fingers pressing against that skin, and it feels so good he could cry. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
While in his later adult years, he has had fewer partners, in his youth, Arthur was a wild stallion. Rolling into a saloon with a sly smile and a bag full of gold coins from a robbery, working women flocked to him, and he certainly enjoyed their company.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Arthur certainly enjoys any way he can have you - and he certainly has enjoyed an array of positions - holding you up against a brick wall in a back alley in Saint Denis, bending you over the table in an empty cabin, watching you gyrate above him- riding him as he fucks up into you.
But deep down, this grisled outlaw is a romantic at heart, though he will never admit it.
He loves the most when you’re underneath him, when he can see your pretty face when you come, when he can spread himself out over you, when you cross your ankles over his hips to draw you in.
In this cruel, hard world, he loves you safe and secure beneath him, where he can shield you from all of its ugliness, if only for a few moments.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Arthur’s sense of humor is notoriously dry, and frankly, it's not brought to the bed, or whatever surface he’s having you on.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Well, it is 1899. And he’s a man that lives out in the wilds. Baths are hard to come by.
But you do enjoy trailing your fingers along the trail of dark hair that begins at his navel and spreads across his pelvis - straight to the chestnut curls at the base of his cock.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Arthur worships you as the two of you fall into bed with one another. God, he told you he loved you before he slept with you - of course the moment is thick with emotion.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Sure, if a job takes him away from you for several days, he’ll get lonely. Arthur will pull the flaps on his small tent and lay himself on his bedroll, unbuttoning his union suit and taking his length in hand, closing his eyes and picturing you there: the way you whine into his ear. The way you clutch at his shoulders, the way you roll your hips to take him deeper. The way you grit out his name as you’re reaching the edge, the way your cunt pulses around him-
He spills over his hand, moaning as he comes down from his high. As he catches his breath and wipes off his hand before tucking himself away, he knows, he knows, that he will have to have the real thing as soon as he returns to you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
For someone with a mind-numbingly high bounty on his head, he should not like getting tied up so much.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Not that he has many options most of the time, his cot within his tent being the normal spot, but he does love to have you in a big bed, naked and squirming on fresh sheets. He takes you to hotels when he can, enjoying the ability to press you down into a soft mattress.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
There’s nothing that gets his blood pumping like successfully pulling off a heist. Riding back into camp loaded down with riches, swinging down off his horse, after depositing the take, he will seek you out, taking you hand in his and kissing it gently before walking you back to his tent and laying you down on his cot.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He may be a killer, a criminal, a bad person. But he does have a code. He has never and will never force himself on a woman. He would never force you to do anything for him if you said no, even though it would be more than easy enough for him to overpower you.
Fortunately for him, you don’t like saying no.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Christ, you wonder as you throw your head back in the pillow, was there anything this man couldn’t do well? He’s between your thighs suckling at your clit, tongue lapping at your entrance, pressing inside you as his warm breath ghosts over your core. Arthur loves diving between your legs, even drawing up your skirts out in the wild and tasting you. And god, is he good at it.
While he likes to give, give, give, he cannot help but groan as you sink to your knees in front of him, babbling near incoherently as you suck his cock until he spills hot and fast down your throat.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the setting. If he’s forced to go quickly, it is a brutal, punishing rhythm. But oh, if he’s got you in bed with nothing but time, he savors each slow, long stroke, and the whimpers that drip from your mouth like ambrosia.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not his favorite. He’d rather take his time to painstakingly take you apart - to feel every inch of you against him, to see and taste and love you. To give you the attention he believes fully you deserve.
But sometimes, the man just needs to be inside you, sheathing his cock in your warm, wet cunt. With your clothes still on and undergarments shoved to the side, Arthur groans as he sinks inside you, wanting never to leave. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s willing to try just about anything - unless it has the ability to hurt you. You hear talk in the saloons from working girls of acrobatic positions that you tell him about while blushing. He’ll try, as long as its not something that verges on dangerous.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
“I ain’t a teenager any more.” He’ll grumble, but he always, always, draws you to come multiple times before he actually does.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Again, it's 1899. Besides, he thoroughly enjoys bringing you over that edge with his fingers, his tongue, or his cock.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
You wouldn’t say he likes to tease you, but you find it completely unfair when he refuses to let you touch him, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you before he is ready to come himself.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Growing up in an outlaw camp, in close proximity to everyone, Arthur knows how to be quiet. But the second he gets you away, whether out in the wilds or a hotel room, he grunts and moans into your ear, his gravelly voice fading into primal noises the closer he gets.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He doesn’t know why he allowed it to happen - he should have been the one teaching you to shoot. Not Javier.  
Or maybe it’s a good idea. He’s not sure how much learning would get done. Not after he’s seen you aim a repeater, tensing against the recoil. 
He’d be bending you over the fence that Javier has lined up empty bottles on, pressing inside of you, his little gunslinger.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
As much as he’d deny it, Arthur is not diminished at all when stripped of his clothing. While he’s a bit self-conscious about his stippled and scarred skin, you fully enjoy tracing his life’s story with your fingers or your lips.
Arthur is not a small man. He’s tall and broad shouldered, muscular and solid. The first time you fish his cock from his union suit, a flash of panic shoots through you - how the hell were you supposed to take all of this?
You shouldn’t have worried, considering how much Arthur would work you open with his fingers and tongue before sinking into you - the stretch of him entering you never hurts.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Now, sometimes unfortunately, much like coffee, Arthur awakens and needs to have you to seemingly function. Sleepy, gentle sex as the sun rises lets him get out of bed on the right foot.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Even after bringing both of you to orgasm, panting, breathless, he won’t fall asleep right away. He’ll always have enough energy, at the very least, to clean your skin of his spend and draw you into his embrace, winding your legs around each others’, and holding you close until you both fall asleep, completely satiated.
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throwingmetothelions · 10 months
Text
NSFW ALPHABET - Noah Sebastian
I’m once again reminding you because some of y’all don’t seem to understand and it’s making my fucking eye twitch … THESE ARE THEORIES. I know that some of you are younger, and you are new to how fandoms operate, but the whole point of this is to make a compilation of theories about someone based on content that is free floating in the fandom. The information that I’ve been given by people in private is never something that you will ever see me actually write about, so don’t think it is. NONE OF THIS WAS FOUND BY DIGGING OR PRYING (THE TWO ACTIVITIES SOME OF YALL CANNOT STAY AWAY FROM). This shit is theories and personal beliefs based off things we have as a fandom. Do not fuck it up for everyone by accusing anyone of prying. Do not ask me questions about unrelated shit. Do not ask me to answer your thoughts and concerns. ANYWAYS HERE YA GO BESTIES.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Noah is the one with the forethought to go ahead and grab a dirty t-shirt and keep it by the side of the bed. There’s probably already water he was drinking, and that’s gonna have to be good enough lol mans will check up on you, but if you’re looking for full blown mushy romance book level aftercare? Yeah, it doesn’t live here.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Noah is clearly working hard on his physical appearance. From what I can see there was a lot of bulking going on, but we see big ass muscles in those arms. He’s very proud of that. Noah isn’t the type to get transfixed and brain-dumb over something, but I feel like he likes legs. Likes the way they wrap around him, and the way they bend when he pushes someone’s knees back when he’s fucking them.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Oh boy. Has absolutely tried his own a few times out of pure curiosity. Tries his best to just jerk off in a shower so he doesn’t have to clean anything up, but he’ll wipe it away with something out of the dirty laundry bin. The man literally liked a meme regarding this so I KNOW I’m RIGHT when I say he wants to cum in you and he wants it so deep it doesn’t come back out. He doesn’t even want to see it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Has an obsession with panties and I mean this in the “if yours go disappearing please go bang on his door” way. There’s something about the way they feel, all the colors and patterns (this stupid nerd would buy you Naruto panties and I hate that). Like he would jerk off with them wrapped around his dick and send you pictures about it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s pretty experienced, but I don’t think it’s in the way you all think. You can have so much casual sex and not really be learning a ton, ya know? Like if all you’re getting are random quick hookups for the most part … how experienced are you actually? That being said - he’s ABSOLUTELY the type to have read up on and researched techniques just to keep in his back pocket.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Ha. Ha. Hahaha. I’m laughing because he has a Mars in Sagittarius, so this is going a few ways. He likes to be spontaneous when he has time, so anytime you say “hey do you wanna try …” THAT is his new favorite position. Immediately. The frankness and the roughhousing that comes with that says he would play wrestle until you were no longer playing, and your hands were held above your head while his big ass body all but put you through the actual mattress. So.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Goofy?!? He’s too goddamn nervous to be goofy what do you MEAN. His heart is about to thump out of his chest because, if like most women you wait for him to make the first move, he’s so fucking shy about it. He would definitely appreciate it if you laughed off things like him getting ahead of himself or making a funny noise when you switch positions though because it works as an icebreaker.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He trims it all up. I know he does not have a ton of hair everywhere, but obviously when someone has a lot of tattoos, you can no longer truly see the amount of hair they have on their body. His legs are actually a lot hairier than you think, and he has a happy trail, so I think he just trims it all up.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Oh, it’s Noah’s time to shine. If you give him a reason to be he could be SO romantic. This bastard is an artist. He is a writer. He can set a vibe unlike any other man you’ve ever met (and I swear to god the LED lights are involved unfortunately). If it’s slowing down that you need … Noah’s got you. Neck kisses, eye contact … just please don’t expect it every time. You would absolutely have to tell him ahead of time.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I actually firmly believe that he used to not jack off a lot, but now that he’s working out and his stamina has increased he probably does it a little more now. Likes the way his rings and bracelet feel when they touch his dick. Doesn’t make too much noise, but he’s a big lip biter. As we said, likes to do it in showers, so after they play which is also when he’s sweaty and full of adrenaline.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
What we’re not gonna do right now is get into the Mommy Issues ™️, and I think if you asked him to call you that he would tell you to get the fuck out (I’m serious) BUT … he could absolutely fall asleep with your nipple in his mouth. Like as a comfort thing. He would ABSOLUTELY ask to watch a show with you and slowly and wordlessly unzip your hoodie and take one of your boobs out and just kinda hang out there in the quiet dark while he sucks away and THAT is actually a kink. I do not take criticism thanks.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He loves him a good risk, but not if people he knows could be involved. Like he’ll wanna fuck at your house because he really doesn’t want Jolly to hear you, but if it was a bunch of strangers at a bar he wouldn’t think twice about fucking you in the bathroom. He also really loves the bed honestly. Mans is a big ol lazy bear after he comes and he definitely wants to pass the fuck out after yall go at it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you in his bands merch gets his dick absolutely rock solid. We aren’t gonna talk about the narcissist streak he has (I also do not take criticism on this because believe me it’s there), but seeing you in a shirt that barely covers your ass AND has his bands name on it is too much. Also, running your hands over his chest? I feel this one in my bones dude I just know that this makes him feel some sort of way.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Noah wouldn’t actually ever involve one of the direct members of the band into a threesome. I’M SORRY. TRUST ME THATS NOT GONNA STOP ME FROM READING THE FICS AND HAVING MY SILLY LITTLE THEORIES BUT he just wouldn’t. Too close. He would, however, tag in Davis, Kodi or Jesse and I know you bitches wouldn’t complain about that. Again, please god don’t pull the mommy card on him. With this one, I see it being something like he’s either immediately going to tell you that he can’t do this at all now, or he’s going to do it, but then he’s going to feel some type of way after, and it’s actually really going to affect him. He’s going to get inside his head and have a meltdown.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He’s a giver. I’m the one that gave you that post. I’m the one that one of his exs contacted. I don’t know a lot about all the things in the world, but I know a little something in this department. Noah eats pussy like a starved man and there’s nothing more dangerous than a man that is hot and enthusiastic. You stand 0 chance. He’s highly skilled. He loves getting blowjobs, but if you’re looking at scales they’re absolutely tipping one way.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
So, for all of you out there that may not know, when a man doesn’t have great stamina or he doesn’t last very long cardio and working out can really help that. Noah has done a 180 in terms of exercise, so I think he’s the type to deliver a fast and hard pace but not really think about it. Like he’s so into it and he’s taking in the sounds you make not realizing that he’s picked up the pace.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Doesn’t love them because CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF MEN DONT ALWAYS GET TURNED ON LIKE LIGHTSWITCHES. Noah would need to be teased all day while he’s trying to do other shit if you want to just spontaneously pull him into a broom closet and expect him to perform.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Again … birthchart says he takes risks but I believe they’re calculated. Like the risk of fingering you when you’re on the phone with someone is one he’s willing to take, but he planned it. He also loves to take risks in the bedroom. What happens if he rubs here? What happens if he bites there? Hmmm.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Noah strikes me as a singular really long round kind of guy. Sure, he’ll get you off once before he even takes his clothes off, but I do think he gets sleepy easily by nature because he has personality traits that align with Snorlax and Winnie the Pooh. Noah will absolutely make it feel like it’s stretched on, and he won’t stop until he’s not sure what language you’re muttering, but he’s not taking a break and jumping back into it. His idea of a break is eating you out while he calms down.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I think he may have experimented once or twice (we’re not gonna pretend like he hasn’t been pictured with three different dildos before) but he doesn’t really see a need. Now, for you, he’s absolutely gonna do whatever it takes to get you off. You wanna use a toy while you’re fucking him? Go for it. He really wants to watch you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Here’s the thing. Noah doesn’t MEAN to. He’s not upset that he did, but seriously he didn’t mean for you to see the strip of skin on his belly when he stretched. He didn’t know that him moving your hair to the side to kiss behind your ear would have you gnawing at your lip. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but when you crawl over him and kiss him until he can’t breathe and then call him an asshole for doing that all day it makes him want to fuck you until the sun comes up.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
It’s all under his breath.
“Jesus Christ”.
“Holy …”.
“Yes - fuck, yes”.
He’s the type to grunt while he’s biting his knuckle when he comes. See, and I know that not all of you have thought about this but it’s the fucking truth, most men are conditioned to be very quiet when they cum and it’s because they were once horny teenagers and they couldn’t keep their hands out of their pants. They had to sneak. Noah has been sharing rooms with people his entire life … this man hasn’t learned to let go and let it all fly. He holds back.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Random headcanon? Weed makes Noah incredibly fucking horny, and he can come twice when he smokes because his dick won’t relax if he only cums once. I don’t know why y’all all say he used to smoke … yeah he used to smoke cigarettes and quit, but he still smokes weed - just a whole lot less. That’s why it’s exciting when he takes a few hits. I had an ex that was like this and it’s actually pretty hot so I’m assigning it to Noah because it makes the most sense with him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
There are actual bitchbabies on tumblr.com that are mad because they say that nobody should say anything about the fact that we can clearly see his dick through some of his stage outfits. Listen to me - yeah it’s weird to jump in a strangers inbox and talk about your unhealthy obsession and what you want to do. But. He is a man, and he has a penis, and this is an NSFW alphabet based on theories, and it is not my fault that it is fucking visible through his goddamn pants. THAT BEING SAID BASED OFF OF WHAT WE CAN SEE ON BEYONCES INTERNET - he’s a shower and it ain’t small.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He gets in his head so often. The number one sex drive killer is stress, and I think he definitely, if he has a partner, can go for a long time without having sex if he’s got too much band business. You would definitely need some open communication. Although lucky for you - he celebrates band wins and personal growth with sex. I guarantee that one positive phone call from Matt would mean you get bent over the kitchen counter.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I think he’s falling asleep pretty quickly but it’s also because of the setting. Like I said, our boy loves a good fuck in a bed. That, combined with the soft LEDs, the lofi beats and no overhead lights means he’s already accidentally set the stage for sleep. Just blow out the candles and tell him ya love him because he’s gone.
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callsign-relic · 7 months
Note
Hi, I saw your requests are open, and I was hoping you'd be ok with writing my request. I have been having a bit of a hard time, and I was wondering if you could write a Megatron fic for comfort. I'm usually a bit of a spitfire, but I'm just overwhelmed and exhausted. I'd prefer TFP Megatron, but I'm pretty flexible. Absolutely no pressure to write this, and I hope you have a great rest of your day! :)
Hi! So you did submit this while my requests were closed, but seeing the topic at hand, I wanted to get this done for you anyway. Thank you for being my first TFP Megatron request! This was actually very fun for me to write! To anyone who has read TF Exodus, I hope you’ll appreciate the little callbacks I make to it here and there >:)
I hope this could make you feel a little better anyway though, and I hope things improve for you soon :)
Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader
“What’s the matter with you?”
The sudden question makes you perk your head up from your seat. You were sitting hugging your knees on the command module of the Nemesis’ hull, though you might as well have been somewhere else entirely with how lost in your thoughts you were. You look upwards to find Megatron gazing down at you from above— standing tall with his arms behind his back, gazing at you from only the bottoms of his optics, not with his whole helm. His muted grey frame stuck out sorely against the vibrant purple hue of the Nemesis’ command center.
“Wh— What?” You stammer, the mech’s question not fully processing in your head before you blabber out a response. Megatron doesn’t repeat himself, he merely continues to stare down at you as you gather your bearings. Despite the mech’s infamous impatience, he seems oddly content in allowing you to correct your misspeaking.
“Nothing,” you finally reply, even if you can’t make eye contact with him as you do. “Sorry to distract you. Keep going.”
Gunmetal grey flashes in your vision, and you realize that the very end of one of Megatron’s claws is suddenly beside your face, turning your head to face him. To your surprise, he’s bent down at the waist to level himself with you, yet still he has his helm raised just so that he’s still looking down at you.
“I asked you a question,” he begins, and despite the fact that he sounds like he was scolding you, his tone is… soft. Like he didn’t want his voice to ring too loud over your human ears. “And you will answer.”
Being scrutinized in such a manner, you couldn’t even think up a decent excuse. You were left stuttering under his gaze once more, and it’s only when you huff out a sigh that you mentally say ‘screw it’. “I’ve just… felt overwhelmed,” you answer, and Megatron’s digit slowly pulls away from you as you go on. “I know as the only human here I’m not expected to do much. But still, I want to pull my weight around here. I guess I’ve just been overworking myself in the process and…” you trail off. Seeing Megatron’s unchanging expression doesn’t encourage you in the slightest, and you turn your head away once more. “It’s stupid,” you mutter, “You’re dealing with so much more anyway.”
And for a while, it’s silent. Only the sound of the Nemesis’ engine roaring in the distance and the hull’s computer module’s fill your ears, and you’re sure that you’ve overshared. Not to mention the low purr of Megatron’s own idling engine, humming before you as if to mock you. Tears well up in your eyes and you make to curl into yourself once more—
Until suddenly, Megatron extends a hand, and scoops you up from behind.
You shout as you’re lifted high into the air, centering yourself in the middle of the mech’s palm as he raises you toward his faceplate. You quickly turn your gaze away from the rapidly descending floor over to Megatron, but unscrunch your face at the sight.
He almost looked… gentle.
Like a mech who has truly lived through several millions of years of war. You take note of the rough scars running down from his eyes and mouth. The typically harsh crimson glow of his optics didn’t burn you as they so often did before. No, rather they glowed down upon you with an oddly warm feeling.
“My pet,” Megatron begins, voice no higher than a low rumble you can feel resonate through the metal of his palm, “I know much of pain. Of working tirelessly, only to feel as though your efforts are fruitless. But what is it that I encourage every Decepticon to do?”
He actually pauses, and it hits you that he’s expecting you to reply. Awkwardly, you look to the side for a moment and shrug. “To… keep working and follow your orders?”
“To fight,” The warlord corrects you, and you blink as you’re taken aback. With his free servo, Megatron closes out the computer module you had been sitting on and suddenly starts to make his way out of the main hull, lowering you down towards his chest. Where he was going, you weren’t sure, but the rock of his arm beneath you and the sound of his heavy pedesteps almost relaxed you. “Though it was millennia ago, the Decepticons were originally formed to fight against our oppressors on Cybertron. The oppressors of not only the lower castes, but of every sentient being on Cybertron— the High Council.”
“I… I think I remember reading about that,” you remark, taking the chance to sit cross legged in his palm. Though the constant rocking motion of his arm was nice, you were only human— you didn’t want to get nauseous. “Soundwave was digging through some old files when he was trying to decode the Iacon database. The title interested me so I asked him to send it to me. Though, it was only in Cybertronian, so I couldn’t understand it very well.”
Megatron lets out a huff above you— or was it a laugh that he breathed out? “Originally, I did not necessarily condone the actions of the first Decepticons. Inspired by my words, rogue Cybertronians launched attacks over key parts of our planet. First, it was Six Lasers Over Cybertron. Then, it was Uraya. Polyhex. Stanix. Blaster City. The Sonic Canyons. All less than a cycle apart.”
As he went on, you found your jaw dropping. Countless Cybertronians cities bombed, not even under direct orders from Megatron? “Then finally, Altihex. All done without my awareness. And you know what that did?”
You shake your head. You couldn’t even muster up a squeak.
A smile curled itself at the ends of Megatron’s dermas, and you could see the rows of his sharp teeth flash from behind. “It got the Council’s attention,” he finishes. “It was from there that I learned that people do not listen to mere words. People listen to action, and it is through action that progress is made.”
You look down to stew over his words, but again, Megatron raises you back up to his face. He takes your head by your chin with the tip of his finger and raises it to face him. Once you lock eyes, he turns his gaze forwards— behind you— and you turn your own head to look where he’s facing.
Two thick iron doors slide open, and the sound of rushing wind blasts past you. You’re pushed forwards by the sudden impact, and you feel as though you might fly off of Megatron’s hand right there. But the force behind you stops in an instant, and you pick yourself up to find that Megatron has raised a servo before you to block the harsh winds as he lowers you back down to his chest. The titan of a mech continues forward, even as you look up at him in gratitude— though he raises his voice to allow you to hear him over the altitude.
“Your situation is dire, little one,” his rough voice declares, “thrust into an alien world, trying your hardest to keep up… it’s a monumental task, to climb so far if only to stand upon the shoulders of giants.”
You finally sit back down properly, only this time not bothering to cross your legs. Slowly, Megatron lowers the wall of his other hand, but as you think you might get cast away to the winds again, you notice the mech pull his thumb in towards you. You grab onto it, and wisely so, as with his now free hand the warlord gestures grandly out towards the main deck.
There, you see it. The endless sea of pure white clouds beneath you, brightly reflecting the light of the sun which was just starting to dip beneath the clouds. The sky was encompassed in a deep blue, though where the sun was beginning to settle down, soft hues of pink, orange, and purple were soon to follow.
“The world is yours to take, little one,” Megatron’s voice rings out over it all. “It will be mine to conquer, and yours to make the most of.”
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edsloveydove · 2 years
Text
I Have Always Seen You
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pairing: eddie munson x chubby female reader
summary: of course the boy i've known since 3rd grade, the one i've loved since 7th grade, would be the one to break my heart. i never thought he would be the one to fix it too...
warnings: bullying, fatphobia, use of the word pig towards reader once, falling off a bike, blood and cut knee from falling off said bike, self-doubt and sort of self-hate i guess, cursing, mentality that reader wouldn't be 'missed' (idk if thats a warning but just in case), no use of y/n, underage drinking, reader has an older brother for sake of the story (i gave him a really basic/common name), thoughts and flashbacks are in italics!! nickanames/pet names (shortcake, princess, honey, sweetheart), reader is at least a bit shorter than eddie, very poorly edited, talks of the demobats and upside down, again like very badly edited, lemme know if i missed anything, i'm sure i have!
word count: 9k+
notes: my first fic guys and it turned into this 9,000 word monster! wild! anyway, this might be trash i honestly don't know, i have no perception of it, pls let me know what you think!! also, this story is told in first person point of view so it uses 'i, me, myself' and all that, idk how i feel about it though tbh. uuuuh, enjoy!!
DON'T REPOST MY WRITING OR SHARE IT TO OTHER PLATFORMS (including mentioning it in tiktok comment sections and stuff like that pls) THIS IS MY WRITING, DON'T STEAL IT PLEASE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sweltering midwestern heat was hitting Hawkins, Indiana early this year. School had only been out for a few weeks and it was already hot enough to have the city pool passing the max capacity damn near every day. 
Luckily for me, I had been able to successfully avoid going every time my friends have asked me to join them. Until now. 
“C’mon, it’s gonna be so much fun! Steve’s parents are gone again, like usual, so it’ll just be us and a few other friends!” Robin tries to convince me through the phone.  
“Robin, I never believe ‘just us and a few friends’, because it is ne-”
“It’s never just a few friends, I know. But this time it really will be just a few people. Like, actually just a few people. After everything that happened during spring break and all that, Steve really just wants the main guys there. There’s not gonna be any crazy partying, we’re gonna swim and relax, that’s it.”
“I don’t know, I might be busy tomorrow,” I attempt an excuse. 
“Then we’ll move it to when you’re free. We really want you there, you haven’t gone to any of our movie nights or other hangouts yet,” Robin points out while saying my name softly. “Is it something else? Is there someone you don’t want there?” 
Robin isn’t entirely wrong, there is something else that’s keeping me from joining my friends. And technically it does have to do with someone, but not in the way she thinks. And that someone happens to be none other than the Eddie Munson. 
I’ve known Eddie for many years. My older brother was one of his best friends while growing up having met in elementary school. James was in the grade above Eddie, and the one to introduce him to D&D, eventually passing on the title of Hellfire Club President to him as well. I was always in the background, hoping my brother would let me learn how to play just so I could impress him and his friends. 
While they were occupying the basement, getting pizza and bottles of Coke every other Saturday for their stupid role-playing game, I was in my room reading trashy romance novels and out riding my bike to the library in hopes to seem cool when I came back late at night. 
By the time I got to high school, it was James’ second to last year before he went off to college in Chicago on his big-shot football scholarship he managed to snag before he was even a senior. And yes, James was a Hellfire nerd and a star-athlete, so no one messed with their little club while he was there. Eddie was in his sophomore year, already antsy to graduate and move on to greater things. 
I was just the outcast that didn’t even have a group. It didn’t matter that I was the captain of the football team’s little sister, I never made any friends because I never tried to. 
Needless to say, yeah, Eddie and I had some history and maybe things got brought up when Vecna was trying to take over the world that might have been better left untouched. And maybe the idea of seeing him again brings butterflies to my stomach while also making my gut sink. 
“No, it's not that. I just…I guess I just haven’t been feeling it since…since yanno,” I say, half heartedly. 
Robin voices her understanding and tells me to just call back when I make a decision on if I would go or not. I promise her I will and hang up the phone. It’s not like I didn’t want to see them, because truly I did but it also wasn’t a complete lie when I told her I hadn’t been feeling quite right since the Venca situation. 
It was a really traumatic and horrible experience for everyone involved, and really astonishing that everyone made it out alive. 
‘Maybe I should just go…but what if it’s horrible? I know none of my lovely friends would ever say anything to me about it, but I just can’t stand the thought of them seeing me in a swimsuit, especially Eddie.’ I shake my head at the thought. ‘What a stupid thing to think, god, we all nearly died and I’m worried about my stomach in a swimsuit, how shallow is that? I guess some things just never change, no matter the life threatening situation…’
I go about my nighttime routine, washing my face and making sure no lights have been left on around the house. I say goodnight to my mother and fall right asleep. Or, I try to at least. 
But my mind keeps me up for much longer than I would have hoped. 
‘It would be a good time, though. Have a couple of beers, spend the night in one of Steve’s nice guest bedrooms. I wouldn’t even have to swim, I could just say I’m on my period or something. Ugh, but Robin knows that I always swam even on my period when we were younger. I’ll just wear a suit under my clothes and pretend the water is too cold even though it’s the peak of summer? Yeah, that should work. I can’t imagine anyone will care that much anyway if I’m not in the pool with them. I really do miss my friends.’
The next morning I call Robin and tell her I’ll be there tonight. She squeals in delight and tells me how happy she’ll be to see me.
Now it was just time to pick out an outfit, should be simple enough, right? 
Well, after leaving it to the last second and now only having about 15 minutes to get to Steve’s when it’s already a five minute drive, having half of my closet strewn about my room doesn’t seem like a very good place to be at. 
I finally sigh and opt for a swim suit from the summer before that I never wore, a green one piece with a wrapped sort of style for the top portion, and black cut off shorts and an old t-shirt that fits comfortably loose over it. 
I grab my keys and kiss my mother on the forehead, reminding her I wouldn’t be back till the next morning. 
Several shouts of my name reach my ears once I reach Steve’s backyard, it does bring a small smile to my face knowing I’ve been missed just as much as I’ve missed them. 
“You’re actually here, I’m so happy to see you!” Nancy says pulling me in for a hug, Robin joining on top, squishing us all together. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been a while. I’m sorry.” 
“No, you don’t have to be sorry, it’s been a really hard year,” Nancy says sincerely. 
Steve comes up for a hug next, squishing me for dear life, I could feel him about to try to lift me up and spin me around so I pull away rather abruptly. 
“Alright, alright, it’s nice to see you, too, Steve.”
He answers with a kiss to the cheek and makes me promise that I’ll come to the next hangout and every one after that. I see Jonathan and he waves with a small awkward smile. 
Finally my eyes meet Eddie’s. 
~
“James! James! C’mon, come outside and play with me!” It was nearing the end of summer before James would go back to school for his 8th grade year and I would be going into 6th grade. 
“Not right now, can’t you see that I’m busy? I’m too old to play outside anyway,” my brother rolls his eyes. 
I hop down the stairs so I can see the basement fully now. Spotting all of my brother's friends huddled around our dinky old card table while he has books and notepads sprawled on his end. 
“Well, can I at least play your game with you guys? I’m sure I can learn it fast!” I beam, faking confidence in hopes to sway them. 
“No offense, shortcake, but it’s probably too confusing for you. Besides, we’re right in the middle of a campaign, it would be too hard to add in another character out of the blue right now,” Eddie says with a chuckle, like the idea that I could play is too amusing to even consider. 
Naturally, I take full offense. 
“Fine! You’re all so annoying, I didn’t even want to play with you anyway. Especially not with someone who has a buzzcut!” I stick my tongue out at them and run away, but not before I can hear them laughing. 
Sitting alone in my room I know it was childish of me, especially for my age. James was probably right, he was too old to be outside playing tag with his sister. I was too old to be throwing a tantrum like this over some friends wanting to spend time with each other without one’s little sister hanging around. 
~
“Hey, Munson.” 
Eddie nods his head in greeting and goes back to talking with Jonathan. Well, that’s honestly about as much interaction as I expected to get from him tonight. 
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Robin exclaims, dragging you toward the cooler filled with ice and drinks, I grab a Sprite to start with. 
2 hours later and my Sprite is still mostly untouched and it’s now gone lukewarm. The others are in the pool splashing and playing chicken, I sit on the side with my feet dangling into the shallow end, watching as they fool around and laugh. Giggles and quiet laughs leave my lips on occasion with them. 
“You should get in, the water’s really nice!” Nancy says. 
“Yeah! Strip for us and get in here,” Robin adds, making everyone laugh. 
“You guys just want to get me out of my clothes, don’t you?” I play it off, shaking my head slightly. Giggles erupt again. I excuse myself to the bathroom after pulling my legs out of the pool. 
Closing and locking the door behind me I look at myself in the mirror.
‘I should just get in the pool, shouldn’t I? I do feel like I’m missing out on what could be a lot of fun. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash all this sweat off of me. I could just keep my shirt on, I have an extra change of clothes as backup anyway.’ 
I finish my business and leave the bathroom. 
After turning the corner to go back to the pool I run straight into something firm, nearly being toppled over before hands are at my forearms to keep me from doing so. Seeing dark curls fanning across this “something’s” shoulders and several patches of dark ink on its bare skin, I immediately know I have just run head first into Eddie. Great. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I murmur, keeping my eyes pointed down. 
“It’s alright, shortcake. No harm done right?” he says, adjusting his head to try to catch my eyes. 
I nod my head and pull away from his hands that still rest gently on my arms. 
“Hey, hey, what’s up? You’re so quiet tonight, is everything okay?” 
I nod again and pull away harder, rushing out the door to get back to the pool, ignoring his call of my name and a request to “just hold on a second.” 
Pulling my shorts off quickly, I step up to the pool and begin to wade into the water before Robin stops me. 
“Your shirt! You don’t want the chlorine to ruin it!” 
My heart thumps, thinking of how I can handle this. My mouth opens to say something but before I can, Robin cuts me off. 
“Just take it off, no one’s gonna make fun of you for being in your swimsuit and if they do I’ll beat them up for you and then we’ll all collectively agree to throw them out of the group. And don’t try to tell me that’s not what it is, I can see it all over your face. You’re allowed to have fun and go swimming, I don’t like to see you excluding yourself, no matter the reason,” she says. 
Of course she would see right through any lie I could throw her way. That’s just how Robin is. No matter how clumsy she can be, she really is observant. Not only that, but she’s right. Nobody cares and if they do, that’s their problem. 
I rip off my shirt and dive into the pool trying to minimize the time in which people could see me without it. Immediately finding Steve’s legs I yank his ankles so he falls backwards into the water with an unnecessarily loud screech. 
It makes the rest of us laugh loudly until Steve comes back up for air with a thirst for vengeance. He chases me around the pool, not for long considering he’s such a strong swimmer and I’m really not trying very hard to get away from him, and catches me easily. His arms wrap around my waist and I cringe as his hands nudge my stomach, scolding myself for the action right after. Steve doesn’t care about my stomach, if he did, he wouldn’t be my friend. 
“That really wasn’t very nice,” Steve says and starts lifting me out of the water. 
“Steve, hey. Steve! Steve, no, I’m too heavy! Stevie, no! Bad Stevie! Bad!”
I’m thrown in the air as far as he can get me and I splash back down. 
I come up spluttering for breath, “Oh, you are so dead, Harrington!” 
All at once the rest of us are splashing and dunking him over and over, until he pleads mercy. Shrieks and squeals of glee and what might be considered laughter fill the air as everyone gets their turn being thrown into the water. 
Eddie comes back out from the house and cannonballs in the middle of our ‘hate on Steve’ fest. 
Eventually I end up back on the side of the pool in my shirt with just my feet in, this time so I can enjoy a fresh soda and mellow out a little, not to make myself smaller. Nancy and Jonathan have called it a night already, leaving Steve, Eddie, and Robin in or by the pool with me. 
“I never noticed this scar? Where did you get it?” Robin points to my knee. 
The nice old librarian put a hand on my shoulder gently to get my attention, telling me the library would be closing soon and it was best I head home, I hadn’t realized how late it already was. I pack everything together as fast as I can, quickly saying goodnight and unlocking my bike, trying my hardest to race home before the sun sets. 
The wheels of my rickety bicycle pump faster and faster and in my haste I bump over a high curb without realizing, flying off and onto the pavement. 
Tears spring to my eyes as air is sucked in through my teeth. I take a look at my knee and see a small dribble of blood seeping down it, my hands have little scrapes all over, spotted with little beads of red. 
Not the worst I could have gotten from a bike incident, but bad enough to keep me from being able to ride the rest of the way home. It’s not far, but so much for getting back before the street lights turn on. 
About 15 minutes later I make it into our backyard, dropping the two wheeled contraption from hell into the grass and stumbling through the door, all while sniffling back sobs. 
“Oh hey, shortcake! James was starting to get worried about you, you really shouldn’t walk alone at night yanno? Next time ju-” Eddie cuts himself off after seeing the state I’m in. Of course he had to be the one to see me like this. Anyone else could have been sent on snack duty tonight, but it just had to be him. 
“Oh my god, what happened?” He walks up to me. 
I shrug my shoulders and look away. I catch a glimpse of how bad my knees and hands have gotten on the walk home. Blood drips down both knees, my left knee looking significantly worse than the right. Dirt and pebbles cover my palms along with streaks of crimson. 
“Don’t do that, sweetheart. Tell me what happened? Please?” 
I still don’t say anything, fresh, hot tears welling up and already spilling out. I refuse to let stupid Eddie Munson see me like this, all it would be is more leverage to make fun of me with. 
He pulls my hand gently until I’m sitting down. Eddie appears in front of me with a first aid kit a few seconds later, carefully cleaning the gashes on my knees and scrapes on my hands with alcohol wipes. 
“Did,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “Did someone hurt you?” 
“No, god no Eddie, I just-, god this is so embarrassing, I just fell off of my bike is all,” I mutter, not really wanting him to hear the words as they come out. 
“S’ not embarrassing, stuff like that happens. I just wish you would have told me, here I was thinking the boys and I were going to have to band together to cause hell for our favorite little goblin,” he says. 
“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you guys wouldn’t really do that, I guess James might. Most of you guys don’t even really like me that much anyway, you don’t have to lie,” I whisper.
“That’s not true! Of course we would stick up for you!” he says like he’s shocked that I would think the opposite. 
I just shrug my shoulders again and wipe my eyes, still avoiding looking him in the face. 
“Here, let me help you up to your room. That can’t feel good to walk on,” he pulls me up from the chair and goes to lift me into his arms. I jump out of his reach before he can. 
“It’s okay, I got it. Just- you better get back downstairs before they start worrying. I’ll take care of myself.” 
“What? No, you’re basically limping just standing here, shortcake, let me carry you, it’ll only take a minute?” He phrases it like a question. Asking but also sort of demanding. 
The idea is actually really nice, and I want to say yes to it. It would be like when the prince finally gets the princess in all those books I’ve read. Eddie could sweep me off of my feet and whisk me away. 
But I know better, I know that he wouldn’t be able to lift me. Even if he could he wouldn’t so much as glance at me, again, I’m just his friend's little sister. Here only because this is where she lives. 
“No thank you, I’m okay. Go ahead and go back to your game, I’m sure they miss you already. Nobody would even notice if I were gone, but they’ll practically riot without you,” I try to cover how deeply I believe those words with a laugh as I wobble away and halfway up the stairs before he can stop me. 
~
“Um, I guess I don’t really remember. It’s probably just one of those super old scars you forget are even there,” I say, even though I recall the night I got it vividly. 
Eddie’s eyes meet mine from the other side of the pool and they look almost…hurt at the possibility that I might not remember that day. Well, he didn’t get to feel hurt about it. He made it clear that he doesn’t care how I feel when we were in the upside down. 
“Hmmm, yeah, I have, like, tons of those actually,” Robin says, “This one is from my cat, Steven, and this one-” 
“You have a cat named Steven?” I cut her off. She gives me a look that says ‘duh’. 
“But what about Steve? Like human Steve? Was this before or after you became friends? And how has this never come up before?” I practically shriek. 
“Believe me, it has come up before. And yes, before she tells you otherwise, it was after we became friends,” Steve says, settling down beside me while throwing his arm around my shoulders. 
“That is not true! I found him outside the mall before we became friends! We may have been working together at that point, but we were not friends yet!” Robin shouts. 
“We were friends, she’s just embarrassed that she named her cat after me,” Steve whispers in my ear, making me giggle like a schoolgirl. 
Even though I’ve never seen Steve romantically, he still had the ability to reduce me to feet kicking and hair twirling. 
“What’s wrong with you, Munson?” Steve asks, noticing the scowl covering his face that usually carries a bright smile. 
Eddie shakes his head, “Nothing man, just thinking about how I don’t have a beer in my hand right now.” 
A call of my name breaks my gaze away from the mirror. 
“You almost ready? It’s time to go!” James yells, entering my room. “Hey! You look great! It almost feels like I’m sending you off to prom already,” he says wiping fake tears from his cheeks. 
I shove him in the chest and readjust my hair and the straps to my dress for what feels like the millionth time. It was a rather simple looking thing considering I had to sew it myself since the only dresses even near my size were too far out of theme for the 8th grade Winter Snowball or they were simply just ugly. 
Light blue and white fabric lays delicately across my shoulders and down to my knees, matched with white slip on shoes and silver snowflake jewelry. 
“You look really nice, seriously. I know how nervous you are, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” my brother assures me, slapping my shoulder much harder than necessary to push me towards the door, “Now it’s time to get your butt moving, let’s go!” 
When we arrive at the dance I immediately catch eyes with Robin and speed walk to her. James goes wherever he's needed for volunteering. 
After about 45 minutes the first slow song of the night comes on as I sit contently by myself at the far end of the bleachers. I wasn’t sad to not be dancing with anyone, I was honestly sort of relieved that I hadn’t had to dance all night. But watching all the couples on the dance floor does make my heart ache just a little. 
“I haven’t seen you dance all night, what’s that about?” 
“Why are you here?” 
“Ouch, shortcake, I don’t even get a hello? And what, I can’t come volunteer with your brother?” Eddie says, fake hurt painting his face. 
“It just doesn’t seem like you, I guess.” 
He sits down next to me leaving at least enough room for another person to sit between us. He hands me an unopened juice box. 
“Seriously though, why aren’t you out there? You don’t have someone you wanna get cozied up with on the dancefloor?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me in his typical annoying Eddie way. 
I roll my eyes, as my stomach twists with shame. He’s mocking me, isn’t he? 
“Nope. I’m okay with it though. Honestly I was perfectly happy just sitting here. Until you showed up that is,” I say with a shrug. 
“Oh really? Well, gosh, who made you such a sour fart?” he laughs as I push him in the arm. 
“Alright, c’mon then. Pity party is over, let's go do this,” Eddie holds out his hand and raises a brow when all I do is look at it confused. “Let’s go dance, shortcake, you should at least once before it’s over.” 
“Um- I-” I’m at a loss for words. There’s no way he’s being anything but friendly but my stupid heart skips too many beats to count. 
“Here, I need to go check on James and see how the other volunteers are doing. While I take care of that, I want you to sit here and decide if you want to dance with me or not. Of course, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna, but if you’re up for it, I’m here,” he says, bouncing back to the drinks and snacks table. I smile giddily at his back and stay sitting. 
By the time the last song of the night played I was still in the exact same spot I had been for nearly 2 hours, waiting for Eddie to come back. 
Immediately after he left, I knew I wanted to dance with him. Of course I would. I’ve known him since I was in 4th grade and have had a crush on him for a year now. All I had to do was wait a few minutes and I would get to live out a fairytale dream. Dancing across the room in a flowey dress with the guy I liked. Of course it would be strictly platonic on his end but it could mean something more to me silently. 
So there I sat, with my empty juice box, tapping my foot in excitement. The first slow song ended and there was no sign of Eddie, but I was sure he just caught up with volunteer work. After the next 3 songs played I began to doubt myself slightly. 
‘Maybe he hadn’t actually wanted to dance like it had seemed. But he looked really sincere when asking me. Yeah. And even if Eddie is just a regular teenage boy, and he can definitely be a jerk sometimes, he’s much sweeter and kinder than most. He wouldn’t leave me hanging like that. He’ll be back any minute now, I’m sure.’ 
By the time 11 more songs had played, I knew he wasn’t coming back. Tears were smearing my mascara while I sat as still as possible on the bleachers, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.  
Of course he wasn’t being serious. He just wanted to tease me like usual, the only difference was this time it went too far. This time he was cruel about it. He could have just told me he didn’t mean it. Instead he strung me along and had me sitting here like a lovesick puppy for an hour straight. 
Who was I kidding? Eddie couldn’t be interested in me. He was my brother's best friend and had seen me grow up. I was just his friend’s chubby little sister. Wearing a dress that doesn’t sparkle and shine like all the others’, sitting alone and pouting like a baby. 
He probably thought I would crush his feet if I accidentally stepped on them. 
After persevering through another hour of horror, James finds me in my corner ready to head home. 
“All ready to go?” he asks jovially like he always seems to be. 
“Yes.” 
James picks up on my mood right away, but I’m already halfway to the car before he can say anything. 
“Okay, uh, I gotta clean up some stuff still but here,” he throws me his car keys when I turn back around, “Go get the car started yeah?” 
I nod and head out to the car when I see Eddie jogging up to the doors after me. My steps speed up hoping for all hell to avoid him. He calls my name but I don’t look back or slow down, in fact, the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me walk faster. 
My hands shake as I try to slip the key into the driver’s side door handle. Warm hands settle on my wrists. 
“Holy shit, I am so sorry, shortcake. I was so excited to dance with you, I really was, I just got caught up in helping another volunteer with something and lost track of time. I didn’t mean to forget you there all alone, I swear on everything. I know how excited you were for tonight and I am so sorry. I didn’t realize how long I had been gone until everyone started leaving and then I saw you get up and realized what I’d done, please forgive me,” he rambles off almost too quickly to understand. 
I expect tears but all I get is a deep rooted feeling of shame and anger. Ashamed by the fact that I thought he would come back and angry at myself for sitting there hopelessly when I could’ve danced with Robin at least. 
“Please, look at me. Please tell me you at least got to dance with someone else, right? You had a good time? Please tell me you at least had fun,” he pleads. 
A scoff escapes me as I whirl on him. 
“No, I didn’t dance with someone else, I sat there and I waited for you. I waited for you the whole time, and I guess that was my first mistake wasn’t it, huh? I believed you. I really thought you meant what you said to me.” 
I rip my arms out of hold. 
“You know what’s funny, too? I was actually having a really good time before you showed up. I told you as much earlier, even. I was perfectly happy to sit by myself, considering that’s how I spend most of my time anyway. I was really enjoying just watching the lights and the twirl of dresses, alone. I was overjoyed to just sit and watch Robin dance with her friends. And you had to come and- and lie to me! You made me feel special for fuck’s sake.” 
His eyes flash with guilt and he must have finally realized how much he hurt me. 
“I get that I’m not the prettiest and skinniest girl and I know that most of those kids don’t even know my name, but you do! You know me. You know me and you still forgot about me,” I pause and take a deep breath, “Do you remember what I said that night when I fell off my bike?” 
Eddie shakes his head.
“Nobody would even notice if I were gone. Nobody, not even you, I guess. You forgot about me not even 5 minutes after making me feel like the most special girl in that whole damn room. And that was really mean, Eddie. I hope you, at least, have a good rest of your night,” I step into the car and start the engine.
Steve plops down next to me holding 4 cans of beer, one for each of us. 
“I’m really happy I came tonight, thank you, for inviting me and not forgetting about me after I kinda disappeared,” I say quietly. 
Steve pats my back while Robin says something along the lines of ‘duh, of course we would never forget about you.’ 
Eddie stays silent, watching me closely. 
I put my drink on the ground beside me and lay on my back, pulling my shirt down to make sure it covers me still. I start to count the stars, just to keep my brain occupied. My eyes drift shut, my mind choosing to visit yet another memory tonight.  
It was James’ graduation party. All we had were a couple tables set up with snacks in the backyard and a bonfire, nothing too fancy. I made a simple ‘Happy Graduation!’ banner to hang across the gate for everyone to see, too. 
I’m wearing a plain white sundress and converse, I knew I would be running back and forth from the backyard and the kitchen too much for heels to be sensible. Making sure there’s enough drinks and food and ice for everyone was my job tonight. The sun is still up, melting the ice and warming every drink out here. 
James calls my name softly, “You can quit running around and tending to every little need. Come hang out with everyone for a little bit. Please?” 
I set down the metal tub where drinks are kept and walk over to sit around the fire with him and his usual friends. New faces have popped up over the years, but many stayed the same. Danny Williams, a junior who may or may not have been my first kiss when we happened to both show up at the same party and ended up playing spin the bottle together, Jason Carver, a freshman who appeared promising on the football team before switching to basketball instead, Michael Brown, a senior who’s been in the little Hellfire Group since the beginning. There are several others I don’t recognize and even more that I do. 
Of course, Eddie is there too. I just haven’t really…acknowledged him in…in a really long time. 
I haven’t necessarily been giving him the silent treatment, but I stopped entertaining the conversations he always seemed to start with me. 
Danny greets me with a smile as he sits down next to me. He even pulls his lawn chair a little closer towards mine, grinning slightly while doing so. 
“What can I do for you Danny?” I say. 
“Oh nothing. I just wanted to come sit by you, is all.” Huh. That…that sort of stumps me. 
I didn’t think Danny would even recognize me at the party, and I’m honestly even more surprised that he wanted to talk to me after kissing me. We make small conversation, butting into the rest of the group's discussion once in a while to add an opinion. 
Night had fallen and marshmallows and graham crackers were brought out for s'mores, as well as a couple of 12 packs of beer that someone had brought with them. 
I knew James had gone to several parties to celebrate winning a football game where there had been alcohol, or even just little get-togethers where it was provided. I guess now that it was only soon-to-be seniors and high school graduates, minus myself, left at the party it was time for that portion of the night to begin. 
I stand up to go in and let the others have their fun. 
“Where’re you going?” Danny asks, grabbing my hand lightly, looking up with wide puppy dog eyes. His eyes are a pretty green color. Brown eyes have always been my favorite, though. 
“Oh, I was just going to head in and call it a night. That way you all could have your fun without worrying about me dragging you down.” 
My comment makes his brows furrow, his mouth opens to say something, but he’s cut off. 
“You can stay out here, you know. No one minds having you here and I’m sure dear old James doesn’t care if you partake in a little drink, do you?” Eddie states. When did he get so close to us? 
“Even if I did care she gets to do what she wants, man. As long as you're safe about it, go for it,” James says, patting my back and taking one for himself. 
I’ve never drank before, but what the hell? James was leaving in just a few weeks now and this might be my only chance to try it. It’s certainly one of my last chances to hang out with everyone like this, at least for a while. 
After just 2 cans my tongue had already loosened significantly. Danny and I had been talking and giggling the whole time until he had gotten up to go home since his designated driver was ready to leave. 
“So, you and Danny seem pretty close suddenly?” Eddie phrases it like a question, wanting more information on the subject. 
Usually I would just hum in what could be taken as agreement or disinterest but my mind was running a little slower than normal. 
“Yeah, he and I kinda ran into each other at a party that I kinda crashed with Robin and we ended up, like, kissing and stuff,” I giggled. “But shhhh, don’t tell anyone else.”  
Eddie’s eyes widened, but that could have been a trick of the light. 
“What, uh, what do you mean by ‘and stuff’?” 
“Oh nothing. We just had one teensy tiny kiss because we were playing spin the bottle,” I say, not really thinking about it. 
Now I really know my brain is playing tricks on me because for a second I think Eddie looks pleased with this new knowledge that it didn’t really mean anything. 
“I feel like we haven’t really talked in a long time. What’s, uh, what’s been up, lately?” 
The question itself is awkward, but the way he struggled through it made it even more awkward. 
“I’ve been regular old me, Eddie. Nothing new or exciting. Although I did finish a book last night that really threw me through a loop. Oh! Actually there is something exciting! Do you wanna hear it?” 
He smiles, “Of course I do, shortcake.” 
“Well,” I take another sip of what is now my third beer, “William Gillar and Stacy Johnson have finally graduated!” I let out a squeal. 
Eddie just looks at me confused. 
“Do you have any idea what this means, Eds? I am finally free of those two asshats for the rest of my high school experience! Isn’t that amazing! I mean, it was easier to ignore this year than last year, but god I am so thrilled! No more mean notes from them calling me a pig in my locker and book bag, I can even finally find a table to sit at for lunch instead of hiding in Mr. Steerwell’s class,” I sigh happily. 
“Do you wanna know what else they did? This is so silly! They used to catch me on my walk home from school and steal my library books. How stupid is that? Why would you steal someone’s library books, right? They would run around with it so I would chase after them and then laugh at how my body would jiggle. How funny, right? I am so happy they’re gone, Eds, you have no idea.” 
Eddie has his mouth halfway open, anger flaring in his eyes. But that couldn’t be right, why would he care about a couple of high school bullies. 
“No, that’s not funny or silly. That’s been going on this whole time? And you didn’t tell anyone? God, why wouldn’t you tell someone, sweetheart? That’s horrible,” he says. 
“Meh, it’s just normal high school bully stuff.” I wave my hand in dismissal. 
“No, it’s not. Bullying shouldn’t even be considered normal anyway, but what they did to you? That goes far beyond normal, shortcake. I wish you would have said something. You know James and I would’ve taken care of them for you, right?” 
“Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it. It’s too late,” I dismiss him and his misplaced worry. Honestly, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. He must have sensed how much I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because he dropped it. 
The night moves quickly after that, people say their goodbyes as James takes over clean up duty, considering I can barely stand up without nearly falling asleep. 
“Eddie, will you take her in and make sure she gets into bed okay?” James asks. 
That’s how I find myself being semi-dragged up the stairs to my bedroom and thrown on the mattress like a sack of potatoes. I don’t think Eddie was half as rough as my brain made it seem, to be honest. 
“Eds?” I whisper looking down at Eddie who’s kneeling by feet, gently taking my shoes off. 
“Yeah?” 
A couple beats of silence pass where I try to figure out how to word what I’m thinking. 
“I forgive you.” His movements stop. “I hope you know that. It’s probably such a silly little thing to even remember but I forgive you for forgetting to dance with me. I probably would have forgotten me, too. And…and I am sorry. I really am, for pushing you away so hard after. It was really stupid of me and I wish I hadn’t. Robin is a good friend, but you’re kind of the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, I think. And I threw that all away over hurt feelings. Puberty, am I right?” I giggle. 
“S’ not silly to remember that. And you weren’t being stupid, sweetheart. You were hurt, you were protecting yourself and I don’t blame you for that. I should never have even walked away from you that night, but I did. And I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it,” Eddie says. 
More words mumble out of his mouth but none of it registers. Soon the noise stops and I feel Eddie’s warm hands pull my shoes all the way off, pushing my legs onto the bed and turning me to lay comfortably on my stomach. 
He must remember that’s my favorite way to sleep. 
My mind must really hate me because I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel lips pressing gently to my forehead while a guitar calloused hand pushes hair away from my eyes. 
Of course, that didn’t actually happen because that’s not something Eddie would do. Right? Yeah, he wouldn’t…
A timid shake to my shoulder pulls me from my dozing. 
“Hey, shortcake, it’s time for you to go in.” 
There’s only one person who’s ever called me by that nickname. 
“Hm, it’s been a while since you’ve called me that…Eds.” 
I don’t know what made me decide to use his nickname. It never seemed right to use it after we drifted so far apart when James left. 
Eddie helps pull me to my feet. 
‘Hmmm, he’s always been a lot stronger than he looks. I barely even lifted myself up for him.’ 
“Oh, now you wanna be all friendly again? Using a nickname and everything? What’s this all about, huh?” Eddie says, steadying me with his calloused hands when my legs wobble.   
My brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Earlier, when we were in the house. You practically ran away from me. I mean, it’s just that we…we haven’t seen each other since we went into the upside down. I thought maybe,” he lets out a long breath. “Maybe things had changed or something, I guess. I was hoping we could talk about it after we all got out but you’ve been avoiding everyone.” 
“And why is that? Why do you think things would have changed Eddie?” 
~
“No! No, no, no! Edward Munson, if you cut that rope, so help me god!” 
“You know I always love when you use my full name.” 
And the bastard cuts the rope. 
The next thing I know, he’s out of the trailer doing something entirely too heroic and the exact amount of stupid he always is. 
Before I can think I shove Dustin out of the trailer, the one not in the upside down, and send him to go help Lucas. 
“No! We need to help him! Can’t you see that he needs help!” 
“I know Dustin, I know. That’s why I’m staying here. But I need you to go find Lucas and Erica and check on Max. There are others who still need our help, Henderson. Please, listen to me and go help them.” 
I turn back into the trailer before he can disagree again, locking the door to make sure he doesn’t follow. Without second guessing, I jump through the portal, landing somewhat safely on my side. 
I manage to find a bike and just a few minutes later I’m riding as fast as I can towards the bat tornado that Eddie stands in the middle of. 
“Eddie you dumb jerk, you better not be getting yourself killed!” I scream at the top of my lungs. His eyes catch mine as a look of horror crosses his face. 
“Why the hell did you follow me? I specifically told you not to!” 
“Yeah, well I specifically told you not to cut the rope!” 
We fight off the bats as best we can until they all suddenly drop to the ground. 
Eddie and I stand breathing hard, our brains trying to catch up with all of what just happened. Eddie turns to me, a grin beginning to form. 
I punch him as hard as I can in the chest. And then I do it again, and then again and again, until I’m pounding my fists against his chest over and over again. 
“What the hell?! Honey, stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” 
I choke on hiccupping sobs as hot tears overflow past my lashes. 
“Don’t you ever do something like that again! Ever!” 
Eddie grabs my wrists to keep me from hitting him anymore. I keep trying until I realize his hold on me is too strong. 
“Princess, you gotta stop. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore, please stop.” 
He wraps his arms around me, stroking the back of my hair, pressing soft kisses to my forehead. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” 
“That was not okay, Eddie. Not okay!” I tell him looking up into his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, I really am. But look, we did it!” 
He looks down at me thoughtfully. His eyes flit down to my lips. My breath catches. 
He couldn’t possibly be… 
His lips are on mine. And Eddie Munson is kissing me. 
Both of his hands are on the side of my face, rubbing his thumbs softly across the apples of my chubby cheeks. 
I pull away, “What do you think you’re doing?” 
“Kissing my shortcake,” he says with a smirk while I grimace at the phrase. He laughs at the face I make and kisses me again. 
I kiss back harder this time, getting lost in all things Eddie. The way his hair feels soft even despite being so dirty. His lips are somehow minty. He smells like smoke and old books. 
My heart soars. This has to be proof, then. Eddie must think of me the way I think of him. I can’t imagine ever kissing someone with this much passion if it didn’t mean something more. I smile into the kiss.
Footsteps sound behind where we stand and Eddie pushes me off of him, placing several feet between us. I look at him confused and hurt by his sudden change in behavior. He refuses to meet my eyes. He even wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, looking straight ahead at Steve, Robin and Nancy appearing in front of us. 
Oh.
He’s too embarrassed to let his new friends see him with the big girl? Is that what it is? Does he suddenly regret kissing me? Was it just a heat of the moment type of deal, then? I was the closest human thing, so he settled on me for a little ‘yay the world didn’t end’ kiss?
In my whole life, I don’t think anything has hurt as much as that did. 
~
An uncomfortable amount of silence fills the air.. 
“Things got weird after James left, but you know that. We both felt it, even though we tried to ignore it. Jason started to act like he ran the damn school even though we were friends at one point. I never saw you because we were never at your house anymore. Then I got held back and we basically had every class together. Then I got held back again and you graduated. I missed you. I really, really missed you,” he says the last part quietly. Almost like he was afraid for me to hear it. I hold back a scoff.
“I missed you so much, it’s ridiculous. I just wanted my shortcake back. My sweetheart, my princess, my honey,” he laughs to himself, I stay quiet. “God, I was such a jerk to you growing up. And not because ‘I had a crush on you’ because that’s bullshit, guys shouldn’t be allowed to be mean to girls with the excuse of it being ‘romantic’. I wish I had treated you better, been a little friendlier. I never realized how much you meant to me until your brother’s graduation.” 
He takes his eyes away from his feet to glance at me. 
“Do you remember that night? It was your first time drinking and you got so sleepy I had to tuck you into bed. You had told me about you and Danny at that party and it made me jealous. I’d never really felt jealous before, certainly not like that at least. It made me realize how deep my feelings for you went.” 
I remain silent, partly because I didn’t want to interrupt him when this is the most honest and vulnerable he’s ever been, out of respect, and partly because I was utterly confused and angered by what he was saying and claiming.
“You forgave me for leaving you alone at the dance, even though I never deserved to be forgiven for that. I didn’t even know how badly you were being bullied at school until you told me, that’s not a person who deserves to be forgiven.” 
A soft laugh and a pause. “I guess what I’m saying is…is I wish things had, in fact, changed after Vecna. And I know, that’s probably not something you want to hear because I know it’s not the same for you but I figure if you’re not gonna talk to me anyway, I may as well tell you, right?” 
He takes a step towards the house but I don’t let him get far. 
“What do you mean it’s ‘not the same for me’?” 
“Well obviously you’ve been ignoring me since I kissed you so, clearly it wasn’t something you wanted.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that’s okay. I’m not saying you have to be with me or anything, I’m just saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 
“I’ve been ignoring you?” I ask, dumbfounded by his idiocy. 
“Well, yeah. You haven’t even been answering the walkie.” 
“And you think that was because I didn’t want to kiss you? Not because, oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the second Nance and the others showed up you shoved me away from you? It couldn’t have been because it was obvious you couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with me?” 
Eddie’s face drains of color. 
“I can’t help but see now that this is all you think I deserve. A quick kiss when no one can see, right? A little making out before someone can figure who you’re with, huh?” 
“No! That is not at all what that was! I can’t believe you would think that. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t be seen with me!” he shouts, cutting me off. 
“What?” 
“The whole town wanted me for murder! Murder! They thought I was running a cult that killed my friend as a sacrifice! My friend! I didn’t want you to be tied to that anymore than you already were, so I pushed you off before the others could see. If someone, somehow went yapping about a girlfriend of mine and things went sideways when we got out of the upside down, you might have gone down with me and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. I was going to tell you all of this as soon as I could but you never let me get the chance, and I see why now. I am so sorry it looked like I was embarrassed to be with you, but that will never be the case with me.” 
He takes my face in his hands and looks me directly in the eyes. 
“You are single-handedly the most beautiful person I have ever met. Inside and out. You have always cared for me and the old Hellfire Club. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you sending cookies on our campaign nights, even after graduating. I remember when I showed up at your house looking for James because some older kids had taken my lunch money in middle school, little you went after them yourself and did one helluva job doing it. You sat me down and cleaned me up. Gave me peas to put on my forehead.”  
It was like a forgotten memory was just pulled up by his words, I did remember that. 
“I could never be embarrassed by you, ever. I don’t care what people think. I…I love you. And I love your hair, and I love your eyes, and I love your laugh, and I love your stomach and your thighs, and I love your mind. I love you and I hope you can see it. I hope…I hope you can see me,” he finishes off in a very quiet whisper, tilting his head down and away from my eyes. 
I place my hands over his that still hold my face. 
“I have always seen you, Eddie Munson. Always.” 
His head jolts up to look me in the eyes once more. 
“God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I know you’re not a horrible person, I should have known, I’m so sorry. God, you were literally being hunted for murder and I was crying about you being embarrassed by me? I’m so fucking sorry.” 
I shake my head and take a deep breath. 
“I love you, I have for so long. I love the way you smile, I love the way you’re not afraid to take up space, I love the way you’re there for Dustin, the way you were there for me countless times. I love you and your horrible music.”
“Hey, now. Watch it.”
I laugh, “I love you and I see you and I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, I promise. You didn’t even really need to apologize in the first place.” 
“Yes, I did. Because none of that was fair to you.” 
“And none of that was fair to you, shortcake. It’s okay.” 
I look at his lips, and that’s all the cue Eddie needs to kiss me. Finally. We put our hearts into it, getting lost in each other. Getting lost in our sudden understandings of the other.  
“We’re both really kinda stupid aren’t we? Stupid and oblivious,” I say, chuckling quietly. 
“Oh, definitely. I mean, we’ve known each other for, what, at least ten years and we couldn’t figure this out without a bunch of drama?” 
“It seems very on brand for you actually, you’ve always been one for the dramatics.” 
“I love you.” 
“And I love you.”
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prince-liest · 3 months
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Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>
What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?
What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.
ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!
Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.
Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D
As for your questions:
1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:
I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.
At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))
So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.
2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...
... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.
And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!
Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!
I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.
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hiii !! i was wondering if u would write a comfort fic with a bakugo x gn!reader where theyre really struggling with taking care of themselves and gone down like a depressive spiral without him knowing until they finally just broke down. i was thinking the reader would have a telekinetic quirk and they never really used it before but they use it all the time to even do simple things. sorry this is so depressing LMAO but i love ur work !! 🖤🖤
Aw! Omg thank you <3 I'm so glad I have such devoted readers on here guys 😭 it really makes me wanna shit and sob and run laps rn abshdnakshbsnx
Also ofc I will :D
I love the angst so you bet imma make this as dramatic as possible
Masterlist <3
Katsuki x GN!Reader- Sink or Swim
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You could tell it was getting bad again. You were hesitant to go to class or training, you no longer had any interests in your hobbies, even thoughts of your friends were interrupted by "you know they wouldn't care if they never saw you again."
And on top of that, it's was so, so hard getting out of bed in the mornings, and being motivated get stuff done. You had started being repeatedly late to class and you were skipping meals, convinced that after all of the minimal effort you've put in, you weren't deserving of a hot meal anymore.
You don't deserve a place in this school, and you don't deserve the title of a hero. You're just not good enough.
Almost every week you're introduced to yet another tragically disadvantaged youth who's given life and limb just to have a shot at being a hero, and you can't help but feel so undeserving. What use are you, even? The only quirk you have is telekinesis, and even then, it's really not very strong.
Your best friend and partner, Katsuki Bakugou, hasn't even realised just how bad things have been getting, and even though you know you're being a little harsh for expecting him to know when things are wrong even when you haven't talked about it, you can't help but feel a little upset.
During the next week or so, your foul mood only gets worse, and when you realise that your friends are actively trying to avoid you, that's when you break.
They were only giving you a little space because they thought you were having a rough time, and they didn't want to set you off since they knew they could be a rowdy group. It was Mina and Denki who thought it would be best, since they both haven't had the best of luck with sensitive people, and this proves it even more.
You spend the week stuck in your room, not coming to class and instead spending your time staring at the wall of your room, the drab, grey surroundings being a perfect match for what you're feeling.
It's Friday, and your room hasn't seen the light of day since Saturday. You've been crying every day into the soft plush that Katsuki won for you at a fair on his first try, despite your many attempts. You had refused to use your quirk because it wouldn't have been a real win. He'd found that kind of adorable. Stupid, but adorable.
Katsuki had come knocking on your door a few times, but every time you had sent him away with an "I'm sick, babe. I'll be better soon..." Or something along those lines. At this point though, he was at his fucking limit.
"Open the door before I blast it off its fucking hinges. Let me see you! You know being sick isn't a fucking excuse when we've got recovery girl! I've kept Sensei off your ass for a fucking week already, now let me see my fucking partner! I'm worried about you- you're not sick, did you think I'm some kind of dumbass?!"
Your bottom lip wobbles as you listen to him banging on your door. Of all things, you could probably learn to live with not deserving your dream carreer or your place in this school, but not him. The thought that you don't deserve him eats at you every fucking day.
He goes well above and beyond for you, and why? Because you're lucky enough to have caught his attention? It makes you feel physically sick to think about all of the other people out there that could give him more than you ever have. Maybe you should stop running from him though.
Ever so slowly, you get up out of bed, dressed in one of his loose shirts and a baggy pair of sweats. And when you finally open the door, Katsuki can really take in how much you've let yourself fall apart. You really do look sick, but not with the flu, and it breaks his fucking heart.
Immediately his eyes are glossed over and filled with remorse at the fact that he hasn't been here for you, and he opens his arms for you, ushering you into a hug that's far gentler than any other he's given you. It feels so good.
"Shit... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't here. Fuck."
"It's not your fault!"
He squeezes you tighter as you cry into his chest. It's times like these that you thank your lucky stars for being shorter than him, because it makes him the best person to hug, and one of his hands buries itself into your tangled hair as he pets you, slowly guiding you back into your room.
You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend.
He spends the rest of the day cuddling you, your legs tangled together under the sheets while you nap and he watches over you. And you're not surprised when, the day after, he's forcing you to get up out of bed.
"Get up, lazy ass!"
"Noooo!-"
It makes a rather comical picture as he's got one hand around your ankle while you mock tears and cling to the bed frame, struggling against your much stronger boyfriend when he tries to drag you out of bed.
"Help me clean this ugly ass room! Dumbass! If you love me you'll help clean this pig sty!"
"God! Fine! It's not that big a deal- please!"
He finally lets you go and gives you an unimpressed look, since you can't even see the floor in the mess you've let collect, and as you get up and trip over a sock, he only snorts in amusement, giving you that "I told you so" look.
He really does help to distract you from your feelings when you're with him, and every time you try to thank him for it you're met with a chaste kiss to the lips, which has you blushing and stuttering in seconds. He could never get tired of that sight.
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sgiandubh · 6 months
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Far away and long ago
One thing leading to another, I tried to watch A Princess for Christmas yesterday, prompted by my Peleș/Pelișor Anon answer and I have to say I am grinning as I write this post: it is, after all, a Hallmark movie, isn't it?
Maybe if I were drunk and/or in good company, it would have been easier. I was neither, so it was unwatchable. Even with the bits of personal nostalgia, knowing very well all the sets they used: from the two castles in Sinaia, to the Știrbei (princely) House private chapel in Buftea, to the Bragadiru Palace in Bucharest they obviously used for that ball. I finished skimming on fast forward for S and howled at this bit of Imdb trivia, I believe with all my heart to be wishful thinking:
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Not only I do not believe ever seeing/hearing such a thing in all the interviews I have read/watched (of which they are a shameless handful), but it would be completely out of character for 'No Ego' 2014 S to declare such a preposterous thing (correct me if I am wrong, for I truly believe I am not).
Anyways. When it looks low budget, it is a low budget (with Eastern European logistics) D-series thing, despite all their efforts. Plot is downright stupid and the painful cheesiness permeating the slightest line uttered makes it unredeemable. Nuh-oh: not even to kill time, not even on a flight from Almaty to Saint Petersburg. No way.
Low budget is particularly apparent when it comes to costumes. This one, for example...
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Her dress is ok-ish (heavily insisting on the -ish, here). But his uniform is an operetta reinterpretation of the Romanian Army's dorobanț (infantry) State Protocol uniform. An exact copy of the 1877 Independence War officer outfit (itself a Second Empire French uniform copycat, but that's just the historian in me nitpicking, of course):
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The above is a very recent pic (2023 Remembrance Day festivities at a British War Cemetery near Bucharest). I know that place well, spent all my childhood 1 mile away, my grandparents owned a house in that village. It is a small, forlorn plot of infinite melancholy and a striking sight, with its carefully trimmed grass, among what used to be cornfields, circa 1984. 'This is British soil', my grandfather once told me and that made it both absurd and enticing: an alien enclave of sorts, a city of the dead. He was correct, by the way, and that gave our Remembrance Day expeditions a sort of strange, furtive charm. We always brought flowers and he, a former officer and POW, would always salute, bareheaded under heavy rain. But, I digress.
Both that movie and my recollections were far away and long ago. Mercifully so for S, at least. The difference in demeanor, profile and presence is undeniable, no matter what the Disgruntled Tumblrettes would tell you: some pushed the cheapness up to the gratuitous folly of 'he was a much better actor then'. Well, he wasn't: no chemistry with a female co-star who would clearly be more eager to have a dental surgery intervention. And no presence every time a very tired Roger Moore is around, which makes for roughly three-quarters of his part. But unlike many striving wannabes, he managed to pull out of the Prince Ashton (🙄) typecast and give us a very credible JAMMF, when starts aligned and with a surreal bit of luck.
If he could manage to pull out of the JAMMF typecast, I see great things. Until then, I will stand by my words: this is a guy with tremendous, but completely overlooked/untapped potential, who has been repeatedly miscast. And this is why what would immediately happen after OL is of critical importance. Brace yourselves.
On another, completely unrelated note: should I wait for that US copycat, disingenuous McTavish booze circus tour to end, in order to draw a line and my thoughts on his brand? I think I should, but always happy to oblige to public demand :)
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buckybarnesss · 7 months
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Blessed post where you detail the storytelling points proving Derek's very young age both when the fire happened and during the show. And it's during the show too, because we may have been watching for six years but the story actually spans about two if I'm not mistaken?
The college-age-Derek-when-the-fire-happened truthers have been around forever and my favorite line from them is: "Why do you want so badly Derek/Kate to have been statutory rape? Just so your fave can claim more suffering?"
And it's not untrue that we like to see our faves suffer because it makes for compelling storytelling. The jokes and memes about the hurt-comfort are true. But this isn't that? No one ever walked up to J*ff D*vis and asked him to write up the story in a way that keeps supporting a timeline where Derek was 16 when the fire happened. He did that all by himself and it's not on us that we went along with it and didn't just discount the actual storytelling for retconning claims D*vis made in some interview or panel or other.
And more importantly, why are these people so passionately for this retconning? That's the real question. Why do they want so badly for Derek to have been 19 or 20 or even 22 (which would be beyond a stretch no matter how you retconned it) when the fire happened? Why is it so much more palatable to them  -better yet, why do they think it would be so much more palatable, so much less the suffering for Derek if he'd been college-age? Is it maybe a secret third idea that it's not even rape if he's a legal adult? That being underage is the only thing that made Derek/Kate not actually consensual? That made it rape?
The funny thing is that Derek is not even my favorite. I do like him but I also happen to like Allison and Scott just as much. And it's Stiles that happens to be my favorite, and I am very much in love with Sterek, but I liked both Derek and Jennifer (however complicated the ship ended up being) and I liked him with Braeden especially because she was the first canon love interest (Paige aside) he got that was actually a good match for him, that genuinely cared for him and didn't hurt him. The point is that Derek doesn't have to be your favorite to call out what Kate did to him as what it actually was, and it doesn't make you sexist either (I've seen the argument, they're really that stupid).
Obligatory addition that Sterek is fanon at the end of the day. So is any other ship involving adult Derek and a teenage character. So @ Derek haters (there's a Venn diagram that shows the impressive overlap between Derek haters and the above-mentioned truthers) who love accusing Derek of being what Kate actually was: canonically Derek had Paige when they were both 16, then he was 16 or even 22 and Kate is established older than Derek (which is what makes 22-year-old Derek impossible when the fire happened because Kate was 22 according to the chem teacher whose name I forget and who told her how to burn the Hales down), then he's an adult and he has Jennifer (who is a high school English teacher and that speaks for itself) and then he has Braeden (who was, like, a marshall or something years ago, before losing her job obsessing over hunting down Malia's mother or something, and I'm pretty sure that also speaks for itself on the question of Braeden's possible minimum age). Even that scene with Erica in season 2, poorly executed as it was, had Derek literally throwing off of him the only teenager that made a move on him (what Erica was actually going for is not the point here at all).
I haven't touched the show in years and I didn't watch the movie either, so correct me if I'm wrong about any of this. But anyway, thanks for reading my rant. It's defending Derek o'clock apparently because there's just some things in this fandom that can really grate your cheese.
thank you anon!
yeah i do not know where people got the idea of derek being much older. in the presentation pilot script derek is specifically said to be 19 but they realized that if the fire was 6 years previous than he would've been 13 when he was involved with kate so they aged him a few years so he'd be 16.
of course that still isn't super great but jeff clearly had a specific story in mind for what happened with derek and how the fire occurred. picking up on those storytelling cues isn't us wishing bad things upon a character and it doesn't make me or anyone else a bad person. it's us engaging with the story and understanding what the creator is trying to convey to their audience without it being explicitly said.
and while it's conjecture that kate was a substitute teacher because it was never confirmed in canon i think there's evidence to support the idea between the on fire novel and how in season 2 the the argents infiltrate the school system. her being a substitute would explain not only how she was able to gain such access to derek but also how she knew to approach harris and how to approach him to get the information she wanted.
when i was watching the show while it was still running from 2012-2014 it was pretty accepted fandom wide that derek was very early 20s and had been 16 when the fire happened. it has only been since i returned in 2023 that i've seen an uptick in the idea that derek wasn't underage when he and kate were involved.
peter and cora's comments in visionary about age were tongue in cheek. it was show winking at the fans about how they were shit with character ages and timelines. and even then despite how messy the teen wolf timeline is we can be reasonably certain of a lot of events within canon and suss out ages and such.
derek wasn't in his 30s during the show. he wasn't even over 25. he was barely in his 20s. scott and stiles treat him like a peer because he is one. the idea of him being some much older guy needs to be put to rest.
i didn't go into detail with kate's behavior in that post because it was about whether or not derek graduated beacon hills high but like kate is a sexual predator. the narrative is very consistent with her behavior.
she makes several suggestive comments about both jackson and scott. in the tell when she's tormenting derek at the hale house she says:
"this one grew up in all the right places. I don't know whether to kill it or lick it."
that is not ambiguous. i've discussed kate and derek before here and here.
her behavior towards de-aged derek isn't ambiguous either.
kate argent is a sexual predator that likes teenage boys. she groomed and raped teenage derek all the while planning to murder his family. this doesn't get any better if derek had been older and was in a consentual relationship with kate.
there's a very consistent story throughout the entire show of derek's consent and body being violated by others for their own gain. kate, gerard, deaton and scott, the twins and kali, jennifer and even the nogitsune.
and yet antis like to turn that all around on derek which i've discussed here about how derek isn't a perfect abuse victim and how it's been used against derek here.
when people deny what happened to derek it's with the same reasonings that people deny men can experience sexual assault and rape. like, how many times has a female teacher engaged in sexual misconduct with a male student only for the comments to be that he should've been grateful and enjoy an older woman's attention? look at the way the news coverage of mary kay letourneau was handled.
i have discussed derek's turning of erica here, here and here. more here about the subject.
the whole sterek thing. it's whatever to me at this point. antis seem to think they're gonna make people stop shipping it when they're not. there's no moral high ground.
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nrilliree · 1 month
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I don't feel like writing ten comments, so I'll write it here: @monbebe-monstax @darklinaforever
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What you write and the way you write means that you are either a troll or you are not smart. I was kind enough to acknowledge the first thing. Because what else can you call someone who comes to a blog that is clearly pro TB, with posts correctly tagged pro TB/anti TG and writes nonsense that is unrelated to the truth in order to cause arguments and mess? By presenting an untruth? This isn't frist time when TG stans have done this. On many blogs. Clear posts, clear tags - block them and that's it.
Read on the wiki, because you probably haven't read the books (which I assume from the content of your statements), who the messenger is in the world of ASOIAF. He is assumed to be someone who stands above the war. He cannot fight and cannot be fought. Rhaenyra sending her son as a messenger was based on the laws and customs of Westeros that: a) he is protected by the law of the messenger; b) he is protected by the law of hospitality; c) he should be protected by the law of the oath taken by the Baratheons, who pledged allegiance to Rhaenyra before the king and other lords d) he should be harmed by the assumption that no one on the Green side would be such an idiot that he would kill the messenger and start a war, wasting any chance of resolving the matter with as little bloodshed as possible. But it was Aemond who was stupid enough to attack the messenger and kill him.
It's Aemond's fault that Luke was murdered. If we think that Luke's death is Rhaenyra's fault, not Aemond's, then we should also think that B&C is Aemond's and Aegon's fault, not Daemon's. Would you agree with that? After all, B&C happened through their actions just as you claim Rhaenyra's actions led to Lucerys' death.
And no, Aemond did not kill Daemon, nor did Daemon die because of Aemond. He died beacause Vhagar. I will paste my post: Daemon plunged his sword into Aemond's skull -> Aemond died -> Daemon won. Gravity and the fall killed him, not Aemond. It can be considered that Caraxes and Vhagar killed each other, even if Caraxes lived longer, but Daemon died to kill Aemond and especially Vhagar. And Daemon and Caraxes died primarily because they had to kill Vhagar. The truth is that Aemond without Vhagar wasn't much of a threat in combat, Vhagar without Aemond was still a great threat. If Vhagar died, what would Aemond do? He couldn't burn the Riverlands anymore, and that's all he did. The Green troops were beginning to fall apart. He would die like Daeron if he joined him. And at Tumbelton, dragons showed that even after the death of their rider, they could fight, so Vhagar left to her own devices would be a threat. Aemond would never face Daemon one-on-one in a sword fight. He flew to him after fourteen days and was convinced that he would defeat him because he had a bigger dragon, because Alys said him that.
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