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forbidden-sunlight · 1 month

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Three

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another installment of A Wendigo's Violent Love. I am honestly overwhelmed with how much people like this series, and I wouldn't have come this far without the support of this community. I'd also like to give a special thanks to @a-witch-of-writing-desk, @illuminaresblog, and @yourdoorisunlocked with this piece.

Without their insight and assistance in writing this chapter, it probably wouldn't have been posted until early or late April because of my workload.

The scene where Rosie and Alastor reminisce about how they first met was inspired by a comic illustrated by the incredibly talented @notherpuppet. I won’t spoil what it is exactly, so I will leave the link here.

On another note, the Hobby Horse mentioned here is a direct reference to the weapon in American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns video game.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Part One

Part Two

Cannibal Town was a place unique in the Pentagram.

Its streets were lined with buildings that possess a vintage charm in which Alastor cannot help but treasure dearly; after all, it closely resembles the era he lived through in New Orleans. Everything in the town fitted like a tailored glove to the charming cannibal; from its automobiles, the residents’ everyday attire, and even how they greeted each other, tipping their hat off or curtseying with a smile. No one is fully dressed without one~! Who could ever think that it isn’t a lovely place to live in, of all the possible places to live in the Pentagram? Just follow Rosie’s rules and you would be fine~!

But the thought of his delightful friend reminded him that he had not come here for an afternoon stroll, nor to enjoy a delicious cup of coffee at a cafe and not even to see if there were any new meat shops open for business. He needed to speak to Rosie, discreetly.

She was a sensible woman whose establishment, a modest two-story building stationed right where the town’s plaza, offered consultation and other goods for all to enjoy; from the latest fashion trends to comestics to glass displays of ringed pinky fingers, there was something for everyone. No one had to venture outside of the Pentagram for anything. Rosie knew exactly what the citizens wanted and how to protect them. That’s why she is the leader, the one to talk to if anyone wants to do any business here. To set up shop without her permission…well, it was free for all.

He strode down Main Street, smiling and politely greeting a charming group of ladies who called out to him in surprise, currently feasting on some hapless soul who had walked through without following the town’s dress code. For a moment, his mind wandered to the impossible notion of you walking beside him, your gloved hand tucked into his arm with a parasol raised over your head so that you did not get a sunburn.

Alastor suddenly stopped. He felt the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably, his face burning, his blackened heart thunder against his ribs, and worse off…his eyes. He felt them changing to radio dials, followed by the unpleasant sound of a record scratching. And all because he is thinking about you, and what he-he did to you! He kissed you!

This is preposterous! Ridiculous. Why are these feelings simply getting worse and not better? Blast it all!

He inhaled slowly, deeply, through his nose and out through his mouth, matching it in tandem with his stride. By the time he reached the entrance to Rosie’s Emporium, Alastor felt his quickened pulse steady itself and he was calm again. Pulling the right stained glass open, he went inside and all the way towards the back of the establishment to see his dear friend sitting behind a counter, consulting a distressed young lady. Rosie was calm and cheerful as always, dressed to the nines with a lovely smile as she handed her client a business card.

Cannibal Town was truly lucky to have a delightful overlord reign over them.

When she looked up, ready to help the next person in the long line, their eyes met. He smiled, waving at her. She immediately perked up, rising from her chair and weaving through the crowd. Well, more like they willingly stepped aside so that their leader could walk to him, but same difference~!

Oh, that was a good joke, ha-ha!

“Oh Alastor, it’s so good to see you!” Rosie exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around in a small circle. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me, though I could forgive you if you fill me in on all of the details that’s happened~!” She grinned. “I hear our princess’ hotel is finally finished with those renovations, all ready to accept all the sinners she could dream of! Oh, and Alastor, you truly haven’t let me down this time! The angel flesh we’ve managed to bring back? Well, not only is it absolutely divine in terms of flavor, but people are coming from miles around just to sample some~! ‘Course, with our limited stock, we need to increase the price just a wee bit. Business is booming, and it’s all thanks to you, my friend~!” She blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Hm? Is everything all right, old chap? You’re never this quiet unless those little gears in your mind are turning~!”

Alastor felt the corner of his mouth twitch. No, he told himself fiercely. Keep yourself calm, tell Rosie that there is absolutely nothing wrong and you just thought about stopping by to pass the time, not because you need her help. And even if you do, desperately, you cannot say it here for all of the world to hear!

But the only sound that escaped his mouth was the chirping of radio static. Nothing else. Nothing except the memory of his mouth being burnt from his earlier actions. His eyes widened slightly. Fuck. He was thinking about you again! When will this madness stop?!

He did not know how Rosie knew that he was in fact, not all right, but her jubilant smile softened, and before he realized what was happening, she was pushing him into a corner of the emporium. Two fuschia-colored lounge chairs and a coffee table with a tea tray resting on top of the dark wood, adjacent to the shop’s windows. This was the very same spot where she had dragged Charlie to sit down and ask why Hell’s princess had come to visit her.

This was…not a good sign. He thought as he sat down in the chair opposite of Rosie’s, watching his old friend gracefully follow his example. Not at all.

“Now, what’s going on with you? It’s rare for you to be the strong, silent type.” Rosie said, leaning forward. “I heard bits and pieces about what happened between you and that angel in charge of the exterminators, but I’m not gonna pry. You clearly got more on your mind than angels.”

Rosie has known Alastor for a long time. He’s a showman with all the flair and music at his beck and call, someone who isn’t all talk with no actions behind them. If there is something he wants, he’ll use his charm to get it before anyone realizes what happened. That’s how he rose through the ranks so quickly when he arrived, after all. But seeing him in a state of stunned silence like this…well, it worried her a bit. So she stood up, removing the tea tray from the coffee table with a snap of fingers, and gestured to Alastor to follow her.

He did.

Normally her clients were more than happy to discuss their problems within hearing range because it was the usual sort of issues everyone dealt with: a bad-tasting spouse, decoration advice, gossip on the latest trends in the Pentagram and rumors about the other overlords, etc. But Alastor….well, he definitely was not going to open up about his problems just like that. He preferred to keep things private, and there was nothing wrong with that in her opinion. So she led them to the parlor, a cozy little room with vintage furniture and fuschia wallpaper with flowers on them. There were enough enchantments in them to drown out explosions from the outside and keep anyone from hearing their conversation. Of course, no one is that silly to be that disrespectful in her store like that, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

The tea tray popped up on the coffee table, landing with a light clink. Everything was still warm and fresh as she poured the steaming liquid in the cups. One for herself, and one for him. Alastor inclined his head towards her as he accepted the tea. Oh my, the poor dear’s hands were shaking. Now she was starting to get very worried about her friend.

“Alastor, what’s wrong?” She asked, cradling her teacup and saucer with one hand as she stirred in a pinch of sugar. “Nothing will get past the walls, I swear. You know me, darling. But I can’t help you if you can’t tell me what’s going on -”

“I kissed her.”

She blinked. “Come again?” She asked.

“I…kissed someone, Rosie. An associate at the princess’ hotel. We made a deal in my radio tower and I kissed her.” Alastor’s fingers tightened around the handle of his teacup. His ears were pressed flat against his head, his face was flushed bright red and his eyes filtered between red irises and radio dials. Oh, shit. Better take this slowly or he’ll combust. Rosie took a sip of her tea.

“All right, so you kissed an associate who works at the hotel. Do I know her?”

“Yes.”

“Well, who is she?”

“[First Name].”

“Ah, the girl with the metal arms and the giant…hobby horse?” Rosie thought for a moment. “Couple o’ people said that she was wielding that thing like a baton! Smashed some angel’s heads too!” She chuckled, but noticed the deep sigh leaving her friend as he placed the tea down, reclining against his chair with a gloved hand over his face. She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going. Start from the beginning.”

“....She came to the hotel after seeing the commercial everyone made. We were not hiring any staff. Charlie wanted more sinners to come and try to redeem themselves. But [First Name] was stubborn. She and Vagatha did an interview and decided that the best thing they could offer to her was being a groundskeeper. Someone who could keep the place nice and neat, gardening and landscaping. The conditions Charlie laid out to her were that she needed to participate in the activities and make actual progress in changing her ways. In exchange, she’d be given food and board. I tell you, from the moment I saw her, I thought she’d be another form of entertainment~! Imagine, someone who can’t crack an egg, someone who struggles with day to day tasks because she has prosthetics from the Great War! She’s killed people, Rosie, she’s had front row seats to the depravity of humanity and she still believes Charlie’s dream will work! What a joke! What an absolute fool!” He laughed. The sound bounced off of the walls, sending a small chill down Rosie’s spine.

Alastor wasn’t laughing like when someone tells a dad joke he finds greatly funny or makes an ass out of themselves. He sounded….hollow. Confused.

“So why is that I feel so terrible for what I had done, Rosie?” He asked. “She had stumbled upon a secret she should have never known and I made a deal with her to keep her quiet. I did what I needed to protect myself. But I can’t get the memory of how she looked at me out of my mind! She was angry, Rosie, and keep in mind that this is a girl who doesn’t show her emotions as easily as others, and she showed me how angry she was towards me! She was disappointed, resentful, and I don’t know what compelled me to kiss her hand but I did because there was some silly notion in the back of my mind, thinking that it would comfort her! How could a kiss do that?! It makes no sense, what I’m feeling makes no sense!” He suddenly straightened himself up in the chair, and he removed his hand from his eyes….just for Rosie to see the frustration and desperation in them.

“What’s wrong with me, Rosie?” He asked. “Tell me there’s something I can do to forget what I’m feeling right now or I fear I won’t be able to escape this madness!”

“I don’t think you’d be able to, my friend.” She said. Rosie knew what he was going through because she had been in the same situation too, far too many times and it was because of these experiences that everyone came to her for advice on romance. “Al, my dear silly man…you’re in love with this girl. And it’s pretty clear that this love runs deep. You wouldn’t feel terrible for what you did if you didn’t care about her, right?”

He looked at her, stunned. “I…beg your pardon, old friend? I….care for her? I love her?”

Rosie nodded. “You do. And you fucked up your chance at building a proper relationship with her because of this deal you made.”

“That was insurance!”

“And it destroyed her trust in you. You said she was a soldier, right?” When Alastor nodded, she continued. “Well, soldiers need comrades they can trust to watch their backs as much as they need accurate information on enemy forces. You were her comrade, someone she could trust and now…she can’t. That’s why she was angry with you.” She tilted her head. “But it’s up to you if you want to rectify the mistake you made…or let it be the reason why she may never see you in the same way as you see her.”

“Then teach me, Rosie.” He seethed, leaning forward as he slammed a fist against the table, causing the tea tray to rattle. “Teach me how to forget these feelings because I do not want nor need to love someone to live a fulfilling afterlife. Love makes a person weak! A smile is a more valuable tool than love! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures what comes your way, you are in control!”

Rosie glared pointedly at him. “Mister, you are most definitely not in control. If you ask me, stifling these feelings towards [First Name] are just going to make things worse.” She sighed. “Do you remember how we first met? You were a fresh face, the newest overlord around the block after you overthrew all the rest. But the big, bad Radio Demon couldn’t even find the meeting room and asked me for directions with that cute little smile of yours. Gotta tell ya, you were a sweetie then, though Carmilla back then…well, she didn’t know what to think of you.” She smiled, leaning forward and placed her hand on top of Alastor’s. “Asking for help and guidance doesn’t make someone weak, old friend. And it isn’t bad to feel love towards someone, even if you are an ace in the hole.” She winked.

His smile twitched. “I really wish you would tell me what that phrase means.”

“Where’s the fun in that? It’s entertaining to see you keep guessing every time I say it!” Rosie laughed. “So…what are you going to do?”

“Words are cheap, but actions speak the truth. If you’re serious about serenading this girl, then you need your actions to reach her. Keep me posted, okay? You’ve got this.” That was what Rosie had told him as she walked him out of the emporium, giving him a brief hug and a warm smile before retreating back inside. Now, here he is, walking back to the hotel and back to you.

He had no idea how he was going to face you after what he had done. He gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to keep his distance from you and be out of his afterlife for good, Rosie….had been correct. Eliminating what he felt would only make things worse, especially if Husker or that pint-sized fool who calls himself the King of Hell try to steal you away from him before he could do anything.

Shaking his head, Alastor continued his trek through the city and towards the Pentagram’s outer borders, on the hillside where the fluorescents of the hotel glowed in the distance like a lighthouse in a raging storm at sea.

Blessedly the lobby was devoid of any residents or staff when he had returned, so he had assumed that everyone was at dinner or had gone to bed. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon if he recalled correctly, but time was difficult to keep track of in Hell unless one had a pocket watch or one of Vox’s silly little devices, neither of which he had on his person. In an instant he teleported himself to the hotel’s western wing, ready to freshen a bit before cooking up a meal for himself to enjoy in the privacy of his room when he felt a thrum of power vibrate beneath his feet.

He glanced down, raising an eyebrow at the darkness on the floor before the shadow grinned, showing off a void of bright crimson for a mouth. Ah, yes. This little traitor. Of all the ones he has in his possession, this is the culprit responsible for the crime of stalking you without his consent.

“Well, well, where have you been today~?”

The shadow chuckled darkly, rising up from the floor and floated in the air, twisting its smoky body around him like a snake…no. It’s as if this little shit is performing a little dance of his own. But what for exactly? What is the grand occasion? Has someone died? The shadow shook its head, still grinning and conjured a sphere of green flames in its hands. Inside of it, Alastor could see you and Niffty in the kitchen cooking dinner and then the image disappeared, shifting to a scene where the two of you are putting ingredients together for…apple pies? Alastor gritted his teeth.

He’s gone not even for a day and Lucifer Morningstar has the audacity to make the calls on desserts. Blasphemy! This is absurd! UNACCEPTABLE!

The shadow’s flames then evaporated into nothingness…and in its hand was a single hair ribbon. Your hair ribbon. Swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, he carefully took it from the shadow’s hand, cradling it in the center of his palm. To have something of yours to take for himself, and covet and yearn in silence until the time was ripe was the only method he had to satiate his darker hunger.

To think something as silly as your scent could tide something as fickle as his temper over was baffling, but it was comforting nonetheless.

Alastor’s thumb stroked the worn-out fabric, admiring its crimson hue beneath the fluorescent light of the hotel hallways. Before he could stop himself, the Radio Demon pressed his lips against it. The scent of cinnamon and ink made his mouth water, hungry for more than just a hair ribbon to pocket as a trophy. But like all good things and in the art of being a clever serial killer, patience is key. It shouldn’t be too difficult to lure his prey into his arms. After all, he is a true gentleman.

Taglist: @rorusena @alastor-simp @imperfectbloodmoon @anielly-2010 @bones4thecats @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @oucx @ang3lofdivinity @tonightwrites @chewbrry @horrorgirlshell @bladeismine @yourdoorisunlocked @no1sillybilly @mentallyunstablenoodle @solandis-does-stuff @facelessfionna @tired-of-life-86 @yandere-dark-cupid @pinkgoldweebgirl @lovely-nightmares @luthefriendlywitch @asianfrustration13 @lunaramune @lanxianschoenheit @zenix108 @solesurvivorjen @kanroji-san @whenitgrowsbright @aconfusedwonderland @candyladycry @ozzersauce @sleepy-hutao @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @swallowtail-lotus @circeyoru

#forbidden-sunlight #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #radio demon #yandere x reader #yandere male #fem!reader #violet evergarden!reader #ns.fw #yandere #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #hazbin hotel alastor #tw obsessive love

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yaksha-lover · 7 months

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The ringing of metal cutlery clashing against glass plates is the only sound that fills the great hall. It echoes, far beyond where it should. The high ceilings and wide walls make sure of it.

Malleus has never felt at a loss of words before. It’s strange for him, let alone with his grandmother. The questions - they’re stuck in his throat. Like his own body is protecting him from the answers.

His grandmother is quiet too. The two of them have never been garrulous fae, but it’s never been awkward before. He’s never felt afraid to speak his mind.

She usually indulges him. She always has: chatter of gargoyles and grotesques when he first found the encyclopedia in the castle library. All the nonsense he’d spouted off about when he had no one else to talk to. She’d smile and listen, much better than most.

The table is too long. He’ll have to speak up, so she’ll hear. At her age, her hearing is only about as a good as the average human’s. If he mumbles or trips over his words, it’ll all be lost in the distance between them.

The table is meant for many, but the chairs have all been cleared away. The two of them sit at the heads of the table; the only place for the current and future rulers.

A servant comes to take away their finished plates, leaving the table empty, except for the black and silver cloth that stretches the length of the hardwood. The Draconia sigil is embroidered in gold at each corner.

“Do you have much on your mind, grandmother?”

She smiles gently. “Not at all. I’m just tired from the diplomacy. I’m sure you’ve realized by now how exhausting it all can be. Enjoy this time, before your responsibilities chain you,” she laughs.

Malleus frowns. “What did you think of Yuu?”

She responds casually, but a moment too late for there not to be awkwardness: “They were very nice.”

“And?”

“And what, dear?” she replies, pausing for a moment to sip the last bit of red liquid swirling in her wine glass.

“Are you not…upset? I know you have plans for me, that you intend to wed me to some high-born, but grandmother-”

“Not for another two hundred years,” she interrupts. “You’ll be older, there will be time for you to settle into governance.”

He’s stunned into silence for a few seconds. “Why does it…”

“Have your fun, my dear. I understand young love. I was once coming into adulthood too.”

“Yuu isn’t ’fun,’” Malleus stares down at the gold sigil. “Grandmother, I love them.”

“I know, Malleus.”

“Then why? Why are you fine with our relationship?”

“Because I know it will resolve itself before you’ll have to attend to your duties.”

“Resolve? We will not break up over some simple lover’s quarrel, I assure you.”

“Oh, Malleus. I’m sorry, but Yuu is human. They’ll be with you but a tiny fraction of your life. I have no doubt in your love, but this is reality. Things will come to their natural conclusion.”

“Then I want to marry them. As soon as possible.”

His grandmother stands from the table. “Let’s not be rash. I understand how you feel, but a royal wedding is too big an event for it to happen in another hundred years once your beloved has passed.”

“It won’t happen again. I will never be in love, unless it should be with Yuu. I will never marry again or have a family with anyone else. The Draconias will end with me.”

She sighs. “Malleus…I know in time you’ll see, I only have your best interests at heart.”

“Yuu does not have time. You promised, once I graduated I could have anything I wish as a gift. I want Yuu. Let me wed them.”

“Is it the crown you want, or them?”

“I’ve made it clear what choice I will make, if it comes to it.”

He feels a tinge of grief in his heart when his grandmother’s face saddens.

“I see. Malleus…sometimes when I look at you, it’s as though I’m seeing your mother again. I do not wish to lose you. Not as I have her,” she pauses. “Please, bring Yuu to the castle tomorrow. I wish for us all to talk.”

“Of course, grandmother. Thank you.”

She smiles at him weakly.

Quick note: This is just an idea I had (that I don’t really believe would be Malleus’ grandmother’s canon attitude) but I thought would be fun and angsty to explore. Malleus introducing his beloved to the last family member he has left, and his grandmother being apathetic, not out of malevolence but because she knows where this is going.

She’s seen humans die in practically the blink of an eye, so it would be hard for her to encourage Malleus to become seriously devoted to this relationship, knowing how he’ll get hurt. This isn’t really about any kind of political marriage that she wishes to make for him, more about feeling sadness for his loss to come, and knowing that he won’t get a happy ending with Yuu how he wishes. I imagine in this drabble that she may have had her own ‘young love’ experience with a human (or maybe just friendships) that have made her more apathetic to the lives and deaths of humans, as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with the grief and pain of losing and living without someone for the hundreds of years she’s lived.

#twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleyuu #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland #k.concepts

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strangermarvelss · 2 years

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strange love- e.m (pt 2)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it

Warnings: best friends!-to-lovers!, ANGST, jealousy, cursing, mentions of vomiting, fluffy ending, eddie's a total sap

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: here is the second part to my strange love fic, which you can find the first part linked below. i love writing for eddie and this little multi-part was fun and i want to continue to write for everyone’s favorite metalhead hehe. i hope you all enjoy :)- sava

part one

“I cannot believe that happened. I’m such a fucking idiot!” you exclaim as Nancy comes running down the stairs of her basement, arms full of junk food, magazines, and the movies Robin picked up from her shift at Family Video. Robin was by your side, rubbing your back and whispering soothing little phrases in an attempt to calm you down, while Mike just ran up to his room to try and call El, not wanting to hear or deal with any of your drama anymore.

You on the other hand, were an absolute mess. The world around your was spinning when you walked into the front door of the Wheeler’s house, prompting Robin to help you down the stairs. The pit of your stomach was a gurgling mess, the horrible thought of spewing your guts still on your mind. The tears now dry on your cheeks from all the crying in the car, but now mixing with new tears forming as your thoughts from the events that occurred less than an hour ago keep flooding back to your memory, trying to process and recount everything that happened. You weren’t shocked by your response to it all, because your greatest secret just escaped from your own personal fortress and out into the world.

Your best friend knew you liked him.

And he just stood there. Looking disgusted. Horrified.

The more you thought about it, the thicker the air became around you and the harder it became to breathe. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on your breathing and think of the place where you are most relaxed, a trick your school counselor taught you when you met weekly during your parents divorce.

The only problem? Your happy place was now compromised.

The place where you felt like no wrong could happen or all the bad things that Hawkins kept throwing your way couldn’t reach was down at the Forest Hills Trailer Park, listening along to a kick ass song that a sweetheart of a metalhead would strum on his guitar as a joint hung loosely on his lips, all while you nursed on a warm beer that you would normally hate. Your nights would usually go about like that, or watching a movie together all cuddled up on his living room sofa. The times you would spend with Eddie made the fucked up world around you feel small and insignificant, like it was just the two of you existing for the rest of eternity. You would give anything just to be near him with no worries in the world. Now, that just wasn’t in the cards anymore.

“Okay so,” you hear Nancy say, setting down the stuff on the table she brought out and clasping her hands together, causing you to snap back into your current reality. You look at all the food and entertainment in front of you, wanting so badly to just indulge yourself for the evening and believe for a second that it can all be okay and things will be just fine between you and Eddie. But you know in your heart that it’s only a distraction, and when you wake up tomorrow, the pain you’re feeling now will still be very present.

“You have your pick of…well anything tonight, Y/N. Movies, magazines, any junk you want. We can even order a pizza if you’re in the mood?” Nancy suggests, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Of course she’s not in the mood, Nance! She and Eddie just-“ Robin began to say, before earning a slap on the leg from across the couch.

“Robin! Don’t bring it up! This night is about having fun and definitely not talking about any guys or girls,” Nancy yells.

“Guys, I really don’t feel like-“

“Oh so we’re not going to talk about what happened with you and Steve?” Robin asks Nancy. You scrunch your face and look at Nancy, raising your eyebrows with the puzzled look smeared across your face.

“Wait, what’s going on with you and Steve?” you ask her. Now this was a conversation you were interested in having. If you were going to have a distraction at all tonight, you wanted it to be this conversation.

“I caught the two of them flirting at Family Video the other day,” Robin admits, causing your jaw to drop as you look between the two them. Nancy lets out a huff and reaches for the bag of Cheetos in front of the three of you.

“Oh yeah? Well did Robin tell you about her and Vicky?” Nancy says, her face sliding into a smirk as a loud gasp escapes Robin’s mouth. You bust into a fit of giggles as the two of them playfully argue over the two people they were trying to be romantic with, grabbing yourself a Hostess cake to sit back and watch the drama unfold.

The three of you continue to discuss different things, ranging from their crushes, to graduation rounding the corner, and even jokingly planning a trip to take to Indianapolis for a weekend, unsure if the other two girls really meant it. Smiling to yourself, you stuff some food into your face as the jokes and conversation carry on into the late hours of the night, glad that they were able to distract you from the horrible events of the night and wash away for the time being, just living in the moment. You were trying your best to create happy memories without Eddie in them, since that is what your current future was looking like.

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The sound of footsteps stomping above you pull you from a blissful sleep. At some point in the night, the couch was converted into the pull out bed and the blow up mattress was put together. You weren’t sure what time the three of you wrapped your conversations and retreated to your dreams for the night, nor were you aware of what time it was currently, but part of you didn’t care all that much. Saturday’s were usually just carefree days for you anyway, catching up on homework or hanging out with Eddie.

Eddie.

The pang in your chest ignites as you recall the events of the night before, images flashing into your brain as you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Eddie’s giddy smile as he told you about his date, Shirley draped over Eddie on his throne, Eddie’s horrified face when he found out you liked him. It hurt, it hurt more than anything you’ve felt before in your life. More than the stitches you got when you were 8, and even more than your parents divorce.

You’ve never been in a real relationship, just a few makeout sessions here and there, and Eddie was the first guy you’ve ever truly liked to the point where you thought maybe, just maybe, things would become more than the fantasy you pictured in your head. You saw yourself going on dates with Eddie, which wasn’t too different from your usual interactions and outings with him, it was just paired with more affection and…other stuff. You never thought it would be in the cards for you until you got close with him. But seeing him last night with another girl made those hopes and dreams vanish, cementing them into what they truly were: a fantasy.

Looking around, you notice Robin’s sleeping body still lying next to you on the pull out, while Nancy’s form is not in her blow up mattress she set beside the both of you on the floor. Carefully, you slide out beneath the covers and rise to your feet, walking towards the steps that led you out of the Wheeler’s basement and onto their ground floor.

The smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs fill your senses as you open the door from the basement, looking around to see the family just now finishing up. Holly was sitting at the table with Mr. Wheeler as he read his newspaper, and Mrs. Wheeler was beginning to clean up the dishes everyone used. You flash Holly a smile when she looks to you and turn around quickly when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey,” Nancy says. You let out a sigh from the heart attack she nearly gave you and she leads you into the living room away from everyone, and away from the yummy food that was still left over.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, placing her hand on your shoulder for reassurance. Letting out another sigh, you shrug and look out into the distance, trying to collect your thoughts and truly describe just how you feel this morning.

“Not good,” you simply say, looking to Nancy with a tight lipped smile. “But last night really helped me not think about him in the moment, and I appreciate that. I had a lot of fun,” you tell her, pulling her in for a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. Her soft hands rub your back in a soothing manner, causing you to relax a bit more before pulling away to meet her eyes again.

“Do you want some breakfast? Then I can drive you and Robin home?” She asks. You nod and you both stand from the couch and make your way back into the kitchen, Nancy heading towards the basement door to inform Robin of the delicious food that awaits.

Part of you wanted to beg Nancy to stay here for the rest of the day given how close in proximity you lived to Eddie. You desperately wanted to stay at the Wheeler’s and watch the movies Robin picked up for the three of you that you never got around to last night due to your ongoing stream of consciousness conversation. Hell, you’d rather ask Nancy to take you to Skull Rock than back to the trailer park. Eddie didn’t have a job, so his weekends were spent practicing for his band or hanging out with you, and given the circumstances of last night, the latter wasn’t bound to happen this weekend. Or perhaps ever again. Regardless, he’d be at his trailer when you got back, and if what Shirley was saying last night was true, maybe he wouldn’t be alone.

And that would just be the cherry on top of your shit sundae.

Your mind and bodily reactions were moving at 1000 miles a minute as Nancy got closer and closer to the trailer park. Robin was dropped off first as she lived closest to Nancy, then the two of you began your journey back to your home. Your nerves that had been buried deep inside since last night were bubbling to the surface again, feeling exactly how you felt yesterday when you found out about his date, then accidentally confirming your feelings to Eddie. Pain in your chest, sweaty palms, light headed mind playing tricks on you.

You notice Nancy checking on you now and again, giving you positive reassurances to settle you down. She and Eddie were the ones who knew you the best, gathering the years of friendship to analyze your distressed tells and noticing even the most slight offness of your presence made both of them concerned. You sure had a way of picking the most observant people in your life.

Pulling into the trailer park, you feel the gravel beneath you shake you in your seat as Nancy carefully passes your neighbors. You rub your thighs up and down a few times, in an attempt to both stop the sweat from gathering on your palms and also to calm your nerves. Passing by Eddie’s trailer, you see his van parked right beside it, signaling that he was home, not that it was any kind of surprise. That didn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat then quickly picking up the pace.

Turning the corner, you both drive up to your trailer and see the familiar mop of brown messy curls sitting on your steps. His leg was bouncing as he bit his nails, something he really only did when he was extra nervous, as he didn’t want the bad shape of his nails to interfere with his guitar playing. Nancy looks to you and you let out a sigh, not wanting to go and have a conversation about how he doesn’t love you back and that the two of you can’t be friends any longer. All because you fucking hesitated like an idiot.

“Thanks for the ride, Nance,” you tell her. She pulls you into a hug and you let out a shaky breath, the nerves rising up more and more as you notice Eddie’s watching the two of you from her car, rising to his feet.

“You got this, okay? And if you need me, call me. I’ll be over in an instant,” she informs you, making you smile. The two of you break away from the hug and you gather your things in your hands as you open the car door. Stepping out, you thank Nancy again and shut the door, turning your attention towards Eddie, slowly walking closer.

“Hi,” you say. He continues to look at you, his face unreadable.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

“I slept over at Nance’s, we made the plans during school yesterday,” you respond, attitude dripping in your voice. “Besides, you were busy with Shirley last night anyway, so why does it matter to you?”

“I didn’t bring Shirley back here. I took her home after Hellfire,” he simply admits. You stand there for a minute looking at him, his face completely serious. Not something you saw from Eddie Munson very often, as his goofball and eccentric personality something you loved most. But you knew today was not the day for that kind of mood.

“Oh,” you let out quietly. You kick your feet in the gravel, the silence around you as thick as it was last night in the high school parking lot. You weren’t sure what to say to him. Just kidding, I don’t have a major crush on you that I think about nearly every second of every day, good times right? No, you know he knew you were serious. Those observant instincts of his could always kick in at the worst possible moments.

“Listen, Y/N, I wanted to talk about last night-“ Eddie began to say. He couldn’t even look at you as he spoke, and avoiding your nickname he had for you altogether? This isn’t something you wanted to deal with right now, trying to think of several scenarios that would allow for you to slip past him and into the sanctuary of your trailer, all so you could flop on your bed and let these emotions flow freely.

“Look, Eddie, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle hearing this rejection, not now. Hell, maybe not ever. So I’m just gonna go inside, okay? I don’t need some big speech about how you only see me as a friend, and how you don’t think you can even be that anymore because I’ve ruined everything between us, so can you please go home and let me-“ you were rambling on and on, your breathing beginning to become uneven as the words kept spewing out of your mouth and you tried slipping past the metalhead and towards your front door.

“Jesus H. Christ, Y/N, can you please shut up and let me talk?!” He huffs out, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you. You stop in your tracks at his tone and turn towards him slowly, the sadness creeping up your spine and the tears pinching behind your eyes. Stay strong, Y/N. Do not cry in front of him, not again.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…God, I’m nervous and I don’t know how I want to say what I’m about to say, even though I’ve been thinking about it all night,” he says. Now it was his turn to start rambling.

“Just spit it out, Eddie,” you tell him flatly, crossing your arms and waiting to brace for impact. Waiting for the bomb to drop and destroy everything in your path. Years of friendship to be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

“Right, yeah. Well, I-uh-I like you,” he blurts out.

What?

“That’s actually an understatement, sorry. I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you,” he tells you, his eyes peering up and meeting yours. The genuine look on his face was tearing your heart to shreds. There was no way he was being serious right now, after how last night played out. You standing there in the parking lot looking like an idiot as Eddie looked scared out of his god damn mind.

“Bullshit,” you say, your words laced with venom.

“S'cues me?” He asks, his brows furrowing as you continue to hold your eye contact.

“I don’t have it in me to play games Eddie, so don’t bullshit me, I’m begging you,” you let out, sounding defeated. Part of you felt that he was only saying this because he felt sorry for how he humiliated you last night, only ‘reciprocating’ these feelings out of pure pity.

“I’m not bullshitting you, Y/N. These feelings are as real as the tatties on my body baby,” he tells you, flashing is chest tat quickly. You roll your eyes. He could never be serious for one single moment, could he?

“Give me a break. I saw how you looked at me last night, Eddie. You were…you were disgusted and horrified that someone like me could like you. It was all over your damn face!” You exclaim, walking back down the steps to be on the same level as he was.

“Sweetheart, I was in shock. I didn’t ever expect you to tell me those words…the words I’ve been waiting for years to tell you myself,” he says, walking closer to you. The two of you were mere inches away from each other as he takes your hands in his, trying his best to look up at you with his big, brown, doe eyes through his messy bangs. You felt a tear run down your face as he looked at you, feeling as if you needed to pinch yourself to see if you were still asleep and dreaming on Nancy’s pull out.

“W-why didn’t you tell me sooner, Eddie? Especially last night. I felt like a fool,” you ask, your voice trailing off as your sentence tapered into nothing. Keeping his grasp on one of your hands, he brings his other to cup your face and brush away the few tears that collected on your soft cheeks.

“Are you kidding? You’re one of the most gorgeous girls in all of Hawkins, and I’m the town freak. I never thought we’d be as close of friends as we are, let alone you wanting to be mine. I was scared out of my mind, and…I didn’t want anything to break up our friendship,” he tells you, making you giggle. “What’s so funny, sweetheart?”

“It’s just…those are some of the exact same reasons why I never told you any sooner. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, and I thought…not having you in my life outweighed the hurt of walking around thinking you didn’t like me back,” you explain to him. You look up at him and brush his bangs out his face a bit, getting a better view of his precious eyes on you.

“Guess we’re a couple of idiots, aren’t we?” He asks, making you laugh. His laugh fills your ears which prompts you to wrap your arms around his torso, breathing in his usual smell of weed and musk. The classic Eddie smell you know and love finally filling your senses once again and soothing your nerves. Eddie pulls away ever so slightly to look at you again, his face inches from your own.

“I am so sorry about last night, sweetheart, and I am so sorry for making you feel bad and embarrassed because of how I reacted. Had I known about your feelings, that stupid date would’ve never happened. I just thought maybe moving on would help the feelings I had for you go away, but I started to realize that wasn’t the case when you started acting off during Hellfire. All I wanted to do was stop the game and come comfort you,” he explains to you. He brings his hand back up to cup your cheek and you melt into his touch.

“It’s okay, Eddie. As long as I can finally call you mine, right here and now, I think it’s something I’ll be able to forget about,” you tell him.

As if it was his answer, his lips were quick to move to yours, his smooth pink lips moving against yours, the taste of him almost heavenly…better than anything you could’ve imagined yourself in that head of yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and move deeper into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips, your tongues massaging one another and swapping saliva like your lives depended on it.

Eddie Munson was yours, and you were his. Everything was coming together better than you could’ve imagined. Well, almost.

The two of you pull away from each other and you suck in some deep breaths, making Eddie laugh. You bite your quickly swelling lip and continue to hold him close to you. You feel your heart banging against your chest, except you knew it was for all the right reasons now. The safety of Eddies arms pull you in tight, feeling as if he could never ever let you go and had to stay like this forever.

“I’m going to spend the next however long making it up to you and showing you just how sorry I am for last night. I love you sweetheart, don’t ever get that twisted,” he tells you, placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Well…if you say so. You got any ideas in mind for how you’ll make it up to me?” You pull away and ask, quirking a brow as you start walking towards your front door once more, pulling Eddie’s arm as you drag him along with you.

“Oh believe me, I can think of a few.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson imagine #angst

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Crossing Lines | s.h x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: things take a turn the night of the wedding. what happens when you’re back in Hawkins and no longer have to pretend to be steve’s girlfriend?

content: arguing, drinking, kissing (yes you read that right), a few confessions (yes you read that right, too), she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing

word count: 3.7k

a/n: THINGS ARE HAPPENING! BUCKLE UP

The sound of clanging cutlery makes your head throb due to the cruel hangover you woke up with. You were currently eating breakfast with the Harrington’s and not to sound rude, but it was the last place you wanted to be right now.

After the events of last night, you couldn’t get even a blink of sleep. It was already bad enough you told Steve that he shouldn’t kiss you because you wouldn’t be able to sleep, but him agreeing made it even worse.

It makes no sense to you.

He must be playing some sort of cruel game, right? He’s probably just stringing you along trying to make you fall for him and when if you do, bam, you’re left heartbroken.

Steve Harrington can suck it. There’s positively no way you’re falling for him.

“You alright?” he whispers to you when he notices you moving the food around your plate instead of eating it. “m’fine” you shrug. “Just don’t have an appetite’’ you explain. “Eat something. We have a long day ahead of us”

“Why do you care?” you snap and his eyes widen. Luckily, his family was too immersed in their own conversations to pay attention to either of you. “Let’s not do this here, okay? Yell at me when we get back to the house if you want”

“What’s the point? You never listen anyways” you huff.

This morning was a tad awkward between you and Steve. When you tried to talk about it and clear the air, he just grunted and wanted to brush it under the rug like he always does. Safe to say you were frustrated with him.

“Whatever, y/n. Just promise you’ll stop acting like this when we’re at the wedding”

“Only if you promise to stop being such a dick”

“Fine”

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t fine.

When you had gotten back to the house, neither of you spoke a word to each other. You took a much needed nap while Steve left the house. He didn’t tell you where he was going and frankly, you didn’t care to know.

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. You cared a teeny tiny amount.

These past few days have felt so back and forth. Every time you think you’re making progress to the possibility of being friends, there’s a small hiccup and you’re back to square one. You feel like you’ve gotten a glimpse of Steve that you haven’t gotten in a long time, but then the glimpse is overshadowed by him going back to acting like an ass at the drop of a hat.

Your rumination is interrupted by the sound of the front door closing, alerting you that Steve is back. You go back to doing your makeup until Steve knocks on the bathroom door. “Come in” you answer and he opens the door.

“We’re leaving in an hour” he states “Then why aren’t you ready yet? You were gone for two hours”

“I went to my parents to call Robin” he answers. “We have a phone here” you counter. “Thanks, sherlock, but I didn’t really want you snooping in on my conversation”

“I have no interest in what you have to say considering you have no interest in listening to me” you sigh heavily. “Is this about last night? Can’t you get over that?” You angrily set your mascara down and turn to look at him. “No, it isn’t just about last night. It’s about the entire time I’ve known you, Steve! You are such an asshole to me and I’ve done nothing to you and yes, I wanted to kiss you, but you wanted to kiss me too and it’s driving me fucking mad because you want to act like this whole weekend hasn’t even happened!” you exclaim and hold back a sob. You’d always been so utterly confused about his hatred towards you and this trip has made it even worse. He gives you no explanations, no communication, just avoidance.

“I have to get ready” is all he says before exiting the room and you groan in frustration. All you want, all you need, is for him to talk to you. It’s like trying to get through a brick wall. Impossible and not worth it.

You’d never been more grateful for a weekend to almost be over.

The wedding ceremony had been uncomfortable, to say the least. You and Steve were squished together in a church pew, leaving no room for distance between the two of you. It was hard to focus on the beautiful event taking place in front of you when Steve’s thigh was pressed up against yours and he had to put his arm on the back of the bench and you had to lean into him for appearances.

The reception was going better though, partially because of the open bar. You’re currently stood there waiting on your third drink when the bride herself comes up to you. “What did Steve do now?” she asks you. “What do you mean?” you play dumb. “You two have been so lovey dovey this whole weekend and now you haven’t spoken a word to each other tonight. Spill”

“I don’t want to burden you. It’s your wedding night!”

“Consider it a wedding present. Tell me everything!”

That was easier said than done. You couldn’t exactly explain that this entire relationship is fake and Steve has been sending you mixed signals, absolutely doing your head in. “Just a silly fight, I suppose. Nothing serious” you reply. “Alright, I won’t bother you for juicy details, but tonight is all about love and that boy loves you. He’s outside. Go find him, okay?”

Before you go and find him, you make sure to get him a drink to break the ice. As frustrated as you were with him, you weren’t going to sulk at someone's wedding over it.

“Hey” you mutter when you find him alone outside. “Peace offering” you say as you hand him a drink and he accepts, chugging it rather quickly.

“Look, I’m sorry ab-”

“No, I’m sorry.” he interrupts “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve it”

“Thank you, but you’ve been really off all day. Is something else wrong?’’ you question and he sighs “My dad keeps harping on me about my job, my apartment, and basically everything else. Says you’re too good for me. I don’t even deserve my fake girlfriend” he chuckles, humorlessly.

“Steve” you whisper, stepping closer to him and putting your hand on his arm “I know we’ve had our differences, but you should be proud of yourself. You could’ve easily had everything handed to you, but you decided to do everything on your own. I think that’s very brave of you”

“You think I’m brave?” his eyes meet yours and you swear there’s a sparkle in his golden irises. “yeah, i do, but don’t let that get to your head, alright?” you joke and he smiles for the first time today. “too late” he smiles. “So we’re okay now? ya know, until you start acting like a dick again” you joke. “Yeah, we’re okay. until you do something annoying again”

You both chuckle and you can’t deny this moment feels nice. Steve seems different, apart from the few arguments you’ve had over the weekend, it feels like there’s a possibility for an acquaintance. Maybe even friends, but you don’t wanna get ahead of yourself.

“Hey, lovebirds. Get in here, everyone’s lookin for ya” one of the groomsmen says when he finds you and Steve outside. “we’ll be there in a sec” Steve tells him before he disappears.

“ready?” he asks and you nod, both quickly finishing your drinks before facing the crowd inside. Steve takes your hand and leads you back into the reception.

Once you’re back inside, you feel a gentle tug on your dress. When you turn around and look down, you’re met with a friendly, familiar face. “hi, penelope! you look so pretty!” you exclaim and she twirls to show you her dress. “you look like a princess! will you dance with me?” she asks. “I’d be honored!”

“I’m gonna go get us a couple more drinks, okay?” Steve tells you before you’re escorted to the dance floor with your new best friend.

While Steve waits to order at the bar, he watches you and penny absolutely steal the show. You’re holding hands while twirling around the dance floor and laughing. He notices everyone admiring you, much like he is right now.

“She sure is lovely, Steve” his mom says when she approaches him. “she is, isn’t she?” he replies and he means it. You have this way about you that makes everyone swoon over you. At first, he found it annoying, but now he might say he finds it endearing. He’s starting to understand why everyone likes you so much.

As ‘open arms’ by Journey starts to play, he watches your eyes light up and you say ‘I love this song!’. He decides the drinks can wait.

“Care if I steal my girl for a dance, penny?” he asks, fully expecting her to say no. “fine, but only one dance, mister” she points her finger at him and you both laugh. “I’ll hand her off to you in no time. I swear” he promises before she walks back over to her parents.

“So, I hear you like this totally cheesy song. Can’t say I’m surprised” he teases and you playfully roll your eyes. “And you wanna dance with me to this totally cheesy song” you rebuttal. “touche” he chuckles.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands fall to your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I believe I was promised a drink”

“Got distracted, plus I don’t need you getting sloppy and stepping on my toes”

“Sloppy?! If anything, my dance moves are even more impeccable when I’m drunk. Did you not see my moves earlier?”

“Oh, I did, unfortunately. You’re really great with Penny, by the way. Must be because you dance the same.” he torments you. “Okay, I’m ignoring that. She’s a great kid, though. Hard to believe you share genes”

“How would we share jeans? She’s a toddler”

“Steve” you deadpan, waiting for him to get that you meant genes, not jeans. “Oh” he nods his head once he understands and you both laugh.

“Do you think that maybe after all of this we could be friends, maybe?” you ask, shyly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, maybe” he answers before continuing “you aren’t completely awful and besides us fighting every other hour, I’ve had fun with you.”

“I’ve had fun with you too, but if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it” you jokingly respond and he agrees. “I don’t entirely hate being around you” he whispers. “I don’t either”

Steve’s eyes flick down to your lips and linger longer than you expected. “stop looking at my lips!” you quietly exclaim. “I'm not! Your lipstick is smeared!” he defends.“I’m not wearing lipstick, Steve” you clarify and his cheeks turn pink.

“You’re blushing! you were totally looking at my lips!”

“I was not. If I get you a drink will you stop berating me?” he bargains. “Hm, I don’t know. Get me a drink anyways and let's find out.”

Steve keeps his hand on the small on your back the entire time you stand at the bar. You lean your head on his shoulder, claiming that it’s only because you’re sleepy, but deep down you feel the need to be as close to him as possible.

“Wanna go back outside? It’s kinda hot in here” Steve asks once you get your drinks. You nod and follow him, lacing your hands together, mostly for support as you're tired and you feel like your feet might actually fall off from your heels.

You and Steve don’t bother finding any chairs, opting to sit in the grass instead.

“It’s so beautiful out here” you sigh dreamily as you look at the stars in the sky. Steve turns to look at you while you admire the view “yeah. it really is”

A night breeze causes you to shiver, so Steve takes off his blazer and places it over your shoulders. “Thanks, Stevie” you smile at him and he hates how the way your nose scrunches as you smile makes him feel like a damn teenager with the butterflies he gets.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, looking back at the sky not really wanting to look at him when you ask what’s on your mind. “go for it”

“Why did you hate me? I mean, I hope it’s past tense because you said we can be friends now, but I’m just curious” you nervously pluck grass out of the ground, still avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t hate you” “Steve, that’s a lie and we both know it. Be honest, I can take it”

Seconds pass before he speaks again, letting out a big sigh before doing so. “You’re too perfect”

“What?” you scoff. “You’re just so…unreal. With the way you laugh, the way you’re nice to everybody, and the way you could wear a trash bag and still be unbelievably beautiful. It just makes me so mad because I can never have you” he confessions and you’re stunned, to say the least.

You don’t say anything for a good minute and a half, unable to think of anything to say. Steve wishes he had a time machine so he could go back and say literally anything else. He takes your silence as rejection.

“why can’t you have me?” you whisper “it’s stupid” he grumbles. “tell me. please”

“Robin told me that I wasn’t ready for a girl like you and truth be told, I don’t think I ever will be” he tells you. You scoot closer to him, locking your eyes with his. “you can have me tonight, Steve, while we’re away from home. No robin, no hawkins, just you and me and not a care in the world”

“Can we really do that just for one night?” he wonders, eyes scanning over your face to see if there’s any detection of you just messing around with him. “that depends…do you wanna kiss me?”

“yes”

Neither of you waste any time. His lips hungrily chase yours and you sigh into the kiss as you both lay down on your sides in the grass. Your hand grasps the back of his neck to keep him in place, making sure this moment lasts as long as possible. Warmth spreads throughout your body and you feel like your heart might beat out of your chest.

One of Steve’s hands tangles in your hair while the other rests on your waist. It’s so quiet outside that all you can hear are the sounds of your kiss and you can’t be too sure, but so far you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.

Steve is the first to pull away, but not too far. He rests his forehead on yours and he keeps his eyes closed. “Can we go back to our place?” he asks and you let out an ‘mhm’ before you both stand up, going back inside to quickly say your goodbyes.

Steve presses kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips every five seconds in the back of the cab and all the way to the front door. He knows he won’t be able to do this once you go back to your lives in Hawkins, so he uses this opportunity as best as he can.

For tonight, you’re his girl and he can kiss you silly if he wants to.

“Stevie, can I sleep in your sweatshirt? it gets cold at night”

“Here. I’ll get out of your hair” he says before leaving the room so you can get changed. His sweatshirt smells like him and you smile as you put it on.

You change in record time so Steve can come back in. You know this is a terrible idea. You shouldn’t want to kiss him this badly, you shouldn’t hope you sleep in his arms tonight, but you do because you don’t know if you’ll ever get the chance to once you’re home.

“I’m done!’’ you shout and Steve returns, also changed into comfy clothes. You both climb into bed after turning off the lights. His arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into him so your head lies on his chest.

You’re both utterly exhausted, but don’t go to bed before sharing more giggly kisses. You each dread when the sunrises, meaning your time together is up.

It was nice while it lasted. Even if it was only for a few hours.

In the morning, there’s no regrets or arguing, like what both of you expected. Instead, there was a feeling of misery. If Steve knew he could’ve had you for this whole weekend, he wouldn’t have wasted a second.

How is he supposed to act once you’re back in Hawkins? Does he go back to being an asshole or does he stick by his promise of being your friend? Is it even possible for him to be your friend at this point?

You don’t speak much throughout the morning, apart from when you’re at his parents’ to say goodbyes. “I can’t wait to see you again, dear” his mom had told you and you felt an odd feeling in your chest at her words.

Steve loads up all of your things in the car for you and you mutter a ‘thanks’ before getting in the passenger seat.

“Ready?” Steve asks when he gets in the car. “yep. let’s go home” you exhale a deep breath.

You fall asleep almost as soon as you’re on the road and Steve sighs in relief. He doesn’t think he could take the silence.

The ride home goes by fairly quickly. You wake once you feel his car come to a halt outside your house.

“I’ll get your bags for you” he offers and you shake your head “no it’s o-”

“y/n, let me get your bags. It’ll be my final job as your fake boyfriend” he jokes and you let out a fake chuckle. Why does the thought of this being over hurt so much?

“Well, guess we’re broken up now, huh? Longest three and a half days of my life” you jest. “Right back at ya. Pleasure doing business with you” he holds his hand out and you shake it like you just got finished with a business meeting. “Until next time”

“Until next time” he repeats your words and heads back to his car.

You watch him drive away through your living room window, hoping he’ll turn around to give you one last kiss, but he doesn’t. It’s probably for the best anyways.

It had been two weeks since returning to Hawkins and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling he had. It was the heart wrenching feeling you have when you miss someone, and he didn’t want to miss you, but he did. Severely.

Somehow, his apartment had felt lonelier. His bed felt colder as he grew accustomed to sharing a bed with you for only three nights, despite the gap that was left between you and him the first two nights.

He hasn’t seen you since he dropped you off two weeks ago and there’s nothing else to say except that he misses you.

He misses your laugh, he misses your banter, and he misses the way he felt when he kissed you that Saturday night. Like it was something you should’ve been doing this whole time.

The clock on his bedside table reads 12:48 and he decides he can’t take this anymore. He can’t go through another sleepless night feeling like this.

He throws his blankets off his body and gets dressed, putting on the first thing he could find and running out the front door.

He didn’t care anymore.

He didn’t care about what Robin would say, or that you and Eddie used to be a thing, or that this could end in complete fucking disaster.

All he cared about was what he wanted and that was you.

A series of knocks at your door wasn’t what you expected at one in the morning.

Obviously, the first thing that came to mind was a murderer, but when you looked through your peephole, you saw a very frantic Steve.

“Steve? Are you okay?” his eyes were wide, his hair was a mess, and he was clearly jittery.

“No, actually, I’m losing my mind. I mean, you tell me I can have you for one night and you thought that I could go back to normal after that?”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No, listen. I can’t go back to normal. I have wanted you for as long as I’ve known you and then we finally fucking kiss and I have to pretend like it wasn’t the best thing that’s happened to me a really long goddamn time. I want you and I can’t act like I don’t’’

You practically throw yourself at him, quickly crashing your lips together and pulling him inside. you’d been waiting so long for this.

“We can't tell any of our friends about this” kiss. “Agreed” kiss. “I mean this could totally blow up in our faces, there's no reason to tell them, right” you state, pulling away from his lips.“Uh-huh, right. Now shut up and kiss me again”

You stand in your living for at least ten minutes, kissing him like it’s the only thing you’ll ever do again until exhaustion hits you both.

“do you wanna stay tonight? I don’t want you out driving this late”

“I wouldn’t be able to leave anyways”

It feels weird at first to be cuddling Steve. Just a few weeks ago you swore up and down he hated you, and now you’re both curled up in your bed, clinging to each other like your life depends on it. It doesn’t feel wrong, though. It feels natural. Like, you’ve figured everything out. Well, almost everything.

What else did you need to figure out? How the hell you were going to keep this from your friends.

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129 @moonofthedevil @tinakham @kennedy-brooke @enco12e @sierrahhh @meet-me-backstage @whoringtonmunswhore

(a few blogs i was unable to tag :( i’m not sure if that’s an issue on my end or not but i’ll try to figure it out!)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve harrington stranger things

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zahri-melitor · 7 months

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In (extremely boring) arguments over ‘who is whose favourite sibling’, I think the point that’s overlooked is that in current Infinite Frontiers continuity, where all universes are equally real, Dick doesn’t actually have an answer.

Like, for Tim and Damian the answer is obvious (both of them say it’s Dick). But it’s heartbreaking to demand Dick actually provide an answer to this, because it’s actually not fair on his extremely strong, overlapping but different relationships with both Tim and Damian.

Because making Dick pick between them invalidates decades of storytelling now.

Sure, if you’re talking about preboot the answer is obvious (it’s Tim. “Fight a thousand ninjas” is the answer). If you’re talking about New 52 the answer is obvious (it’s Damian. “We were the best” is the answer as they ignored all of Dick and Tim’s prior relationship). Probably still the same answer in Rebirth as Tim coming back to being himself was so slow.

But Infinite Frontiers? You want to make a strong pronouncement on Dick’s position now, with both backstories firmly in place? I don’t think he can pick and it’d be cruel to ask him to. He loves them both deeply, for different reasons, from different events.

(In any case, the answer definitely isn’t Jason. Dick regrets not having a better relationship with Jason but he does not have the on page support for actual favouritism)

#‘what about Cass?’ look I too love where Tim and Cass end up at by GoG but it’s still not what Dick & Tim have together #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #they’re brothers your honour

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hard-core-super-star · 9 months

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Hi, I have a request for hailee steinfeld x reader:

Reader is the type of celebrity that hates that she's a celebrity(hope this isnt confusing), so when it comes to doing press tours and interviews and going to award shows and so on, she is rarely at them. But when it comes to her girlfriend, Hailee. She attends.

stars by the pocketful [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: going to crappy award shows was never something you found enjoyable. lucky for you, your girlfriend takes it upon herself to change that.

warnings: none, just fluff; very vague mentions of anxiety; vague descriptions of famous people being jerks; i still can't write endings

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: yes, the summary sucks but that's only because the request IS the summary. this is technically set during the 2024 grammy’s but it's not very expanded on…and yes, the taylor cameo serves no real purpose besides making me laugh. hope you enjoy and thank you lovely anon for the request <3

* * * * * * *

There were so many better things to be doing on a Sunday night. Maybe going to the movie theater or to a random concert or even just taking a stroll down the beach. Anything and everything would be better than being at an overwhelmingly loud (yet underwhelming in all the other categories) award show.

You know you should enjoy events like these, not only is it a part of your job but it's an opportunity to celebrate the unique talent that fills every industry you happen to either admire or be a part of. However, they're also the one place where all your emotions are capitalized, no matter how big or small your reactions are.

Again, it's part of the job. But it doesn't mean you have to like it.

Although, you will admit, out of all the award shows you’ve been to since meeting Hailee, the Grammys are usually the most bearable. Maybe it’s the people involved or the performances or the bright smile on your girlfriend’s face that no amount of chaos can wipe away.

You can’t say that you’re as unaffected as she is but you’re definitely making an effort to focus on the good instead of the bad…and there’s a lot of bad in your opinion.

You don’t get the chance to dwell on those thoughts for longer than a few seconds since Hailee slips her hand into yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You turn your head away from the stage to find her looking at you, her eyebrows furrowed as if she’s studying each and every one of your features. You don’t have to say a word for her to notice your discomfort.

She’s way too good at reading your emotions, especially at moments like these.

She leans in toward you while the current performance comes to an end but the applause that fills the room is nothing compared to the sound of her voice. “We can leave if you want.”

You shake your head almost as soon as you hear her whispered words. “I’m fine.”

She opens her mouth, most likely to point out the fact that you’re lying, but the cameras cut to commercial and the room comes alive once again. It’s not the commotion that distracts her but the tap on her shoulder that’s followed by a friendly voice.

This time you’re the one who gives her hand a reassuring squeeze before she turns to face Taylor. The blonde in question offers you a warm smile before sweeping your girlfriend up in a lively conversation. You watch the exchange for a few seconds, completely in awe of the way Hailee seems to come alive while she talks about her music.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to her, not wanting to distract her.

Your hand slips out of her grasp before you make a beeline for the closest bathroom. Unfortunately for you, your path to peace and quiet is blocked by too many people who definitely don’t like you. You’re not sure what part of your personality isn’t up to their standards today but you do your best to ignore their disdainful looks while you slip past them.

Ignoring their looks is easy. Ignoring their not-so-quiet comments proves to be significantly harder.

You’ve been in this business long enough to know you shouldn’t waste your time trying to prove yourself to people. Especially people who don’t care enough about you to actually try to get to know you and instead get their information from social media or made-up articles from untrustworthy sources.

But just because you shouldn’t waste your time on them doesn’t mean their comments don’t sting a little…or a lot. A sting that's particularly painful when the before-mentioned comments are made by friends of your girlfriend.

You finally make it to the bathroom, quickly stepping inside and taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Your steps are slow and calculated as you approach the sink and, thankfully, when you look up toward the mirror, the reflection that greets you seems cool and collected.

It seems you manage to get yourself under control at the right moment since the door swings open a few seconds later. You pretend to be busy checking the small amounts of makeup on your face when the person speaks up.

“Hey, there you are.” Your shoulders immediately relax once you realize who it is. “Is everything okay?”

You nod, not yet turning to face her, knowing you won’t be able to fool her if she sees your face. “Yeah, I just needed a break.”

You hear her sigh before the sound of her heels against the tiled floor reverberates around the room. So much for trying to fool her.

“You don't have to lie, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.” Her warm hand wraps around your forearm and you meet her eyes through the mirror in front of you. She doesn’t try to pull you toward her. Instead, she gives you time to decide what you need from her.

“I'm just a little overwhelmed,” you confess before following it up with a joke. “I can't believe so many people like talking about us.”

You crack a small smile at your joke, hoping Hailee will smile too but she doesn't. “Did someone say something to you?”

This time you’re the one who sighs.“Nothing I haven't heard before, Lee.”

“Wh-”

You shake your head, effectively stopping her before she can say anything else. “It doesn't matter who. I'm fine.”

You emphasize your point by finally turning your body to face her. Unfortunately, the subtle signs of your unease become perfectly clear now that she’s able to look directly at you. Her hand drops down from your arm to your wrist, drawing slow circles on your pulse point and noticing how fast your heart is still beating.

“You're clearly not if you're hiding in the bathroom instead of being out there with me.”

“I'm that easy to read, huh?” You take the smallest step forward, encouraging her to drop your hand and wrap her arms around your waist instead.

“Only to me, baby.” She pulls your body closer to her before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. “You don't have to hide how you feel with me, alright? I won't be upset.”

“There’s nothing to say, I’m just being dumb.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not dumb to be upset when people say shitty things about you.”

You would love to agree with her but it’s not like it’s anything new. Your disdain for most celebrity experiences like award shows and fancy parties has earned you quite the reputation, not as an introvert, but as a stuck-up brat who doesn’t realize how lucky she is. Dating Hailee has only amplified that reputation with the added little bonus that now you’re also labeled as a ‘golddigger.’

You’re pretty sure that ridiculous rumor was started by Hailee’s PR team to try and stop her from making your relationship official. Their strategy backfired tremendously in regard to your relationship but unfortunately, you’re still dealing with the fallout in the form of backhanded compliments and ill-natured questions.

“Hey.” The feeling of her hands caressing your back brings you back to reality. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you ever regret this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Choosing me? Coming out?”

“I think you know better than anyone that my closet was made of literal glass,” she jokes, successfully getting you to smile despite yourself. You’re rewarded with that subtle shine her eyes get whenever she talks about something she loves. In this case, it’s you. “y/n, you don’t ever have to worry about me regretting being with you. I love you. My love isn’t conditional or superficial, it’s real, no matter if people think it’s a good business decision or not. I don’t care about any of that, I just care about how we feel.”

“You’re giving Emily Dickinson a run for her money with that speech.”

Your comment gets a laugh out of both of you. Her previous words paired with the sound of her laugh and the affection in her eyes are more than enough to get you to forget all about those fake people and their stupid comments.

You lean forward and capture her lips in a sweet kiss that’s full of all the things you love about her. Her warmth, her unparalleled joy, her loving touch. All the things you never thought you would find until Hailee stumbled into your life.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” she says with a smile once the two of you pull away.

“I am,” you confirm. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, my love. I’d be a horrible girlfriend if I let you continue to feel miserable.”

You lean in closer until your head is resting on her shoulder, your breath ghosting the skin of her neck. You stand in silence for a few seconds as you both enjoy the serenity that fills the space around you.

“Sometimes I wish we could pack up our stuff and move to the middle of nowhere for a few months,” you whisper.

Your girlfriend doesn't skip a beat. “Let's do it.”

“Hailee…I was kidding. You know we can't.”

“Yeah, we can. We can rent out a place, wherever you want, and not tell anybody. Not our families, not our teams, and definitely not the paparazzi. If it's a break you want then that's exactly what I’ll give you.”

You lift your head from her shoulder, staring at her with furrowed eyebrows and barely contained excitement. “What about the Oscars? And all the other award shows you've been invited to?”

“First of all, we have been invited to them,” she corrects you while she tucks a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear. “And second of all, none of that stuff matters more than you. You're all I want and nothing sounds better than escaping all this chaos with you for a few months.”

“You’re sure?”

Her response doesn’t come in words. She only nods before kissing you again. Her lips taste of sincerity and adventure and a slight aftertaste of cinnamon.

“I’m sure, baby,” she murmurs against your lips just in case you have any doubts. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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like real people do: diavolo

they've seen the world shift and change throughout their long, long lives, but if they could they would have given it all up just to be with you.

~~~~~

I could not ask you where you came from I could not ask and neither could you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips We could just kiss like real people do.

~~~~~

The stack of paperwork on Diavolo’s desk never seems to decrease in size. He sighs, tearing his gaze away from the pile and towards the packet currently in front of him. He can briefly make out something about the economy in the outskirts of the Devildom and how their markets don’t have as many laborers, and he feels a headache coming on. Everyone looks to him. He’s still an incredibly young demon, and yet the weight of an entire realm is on his shoulders. It isn’t hard to see why he’s slowly deteriorating, nor can he be blamed for it.

Right?

He wishes he could have fun like those rowdy demon brothers do, going off on adventures with MC and visiting sweets shops and being able to talk to each other about things. (Even though Lucifer always said siblings weren’t as fun as Diavolo thought they were, he had to disagree. What he wouldn’t do for a cute little sister or brother to spoil and spend time with. Unfortunately, that was not his reality. His reality was stacks of paper and stuffy suits and formal events and speeches that were meant to rally demonkind together.)

A soft knock at the door snaps Diavolo out of his thoughts, and he sighs.

“You may enter.” he calls out, eyes bleary and unfocused as they turn back to the packet.

“My Lord.” Barbatos bows as he enters, looking as energetic as always, “MC has requested an audience with you.”

Diavolo almost twists his ankle when he jumps up, eyes brightening immediately. A few papers go flying and his pen clutters to the floor. Barbatos does not look amused as the important paperwork is scattered across the office, but Diavolo cannot bring himself to care.

“My Lord, have you finished any of your work?” he asks, stooping down to pick up as many misplaced documents as he can.

“Yes, yes of course! So much work is done! Does my hair look alright?” he frantically looks for a reflective surface, patting down what he thinks may be unruly strands.

“Your hair looks fine as always, My Lord.” Barbatos stands, placing the stack of papers carefully on his desk, “I have served them tea before I came to get you. They talked very fondly about your trip together to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder. It seems they want to take you out again, though I myself am unsure if I should grant them the pleasure after what happened.”

The last part of what Barbatos says goes flying straight over Diavolo’s head.

Diavolo has to hold back a booming laugh at that. It’s like his heart is soaring with glee at their proposition. He has to remind himself daily that just because he doesn’t have the brothers doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anyone. He has Barbatos, Lucifer, and them. (Most of all, them. But he could never admit that to himself. It seems…selfish.)

”What wonderful news!” he beams, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to contain the affection threatening to bubble up and explode within him, “Please, escort me to them at once!”

“As you wish, Young Master.” Barbatos bows, turning to lead him out of his office, “Though I must warn you, I will still hold your accountable for the work you need to do.”-

That comment would normally sink his mood immensely, but the promise of them keeps his heart light. It’s a mystery as to what he would do without them, but hopefully he’ll never have to find out.

(Hopefully they’ll be around forever. Another ideal, added to his lofty tower.)

The hallways all blur together as he rushes through the palace, Barbatos following a safe distance behind him as his heart pounds so hard in his chest that he hears it in his head. He knows where they are, he knows they’re getting closer with every step, and yet he’s so, so greedy for a sight of them.

Perhaps he throws open the door with a little too much force, because the first thing he sees of them is their jump of surprise. Their face looks unbelievably shocked, but before he can utter a single apology they’re laughing and jumping out of their seat for an entirely different reason. Their arms are around his neck before he realizes it, and they’re hanging off him with a huge smile and lots of chatter that he can’t even decipher because they’re finally touching him in the way he’s wanted them to for far too long.

(He likes to tell himself that anyone would do. That any physical contact would be enough to sanitate his desire for a casual relationship like this. But no, it couldn’t be just anyone, not after he’s had a taste of them.)

“Well, hello there!” he beams, crushing them against his chest with the biggest smile he’s ever worn, “I’m so glad you could make it! I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time-”

“Oh, no! You aren’t, I promise!” They laugh, looking absolutely ecstatic to be wholly encompassed by him, “I managed to sneak away from Mammon and the others, just for now.”

Mammon. The others. Oh, he gets so jealous when he hears those brothers mentioned. Diavolo doesn’t want to ruin that precious smiling face though, so he covers his flaming envy with his own smile. It doesn’t stop him from holding them even tighter, though, but before he can really indulge in them, Barbatos enters the room with a scowl. He’s clearly upset at Diavolo for not doing his work and running through the palace like a dog, and the second he sees them hanging off of the Demon Prince he gestures for them to get off. They pout and stick their tongue out at Barbatos, which makes Diavolo laugh so loudly he thinks the castle walls might have rattled. They are by far the only human who would ever dare to make such a mocking gesture at a demon, and that’s so endearing.

Before Barbatos can peel them off himself, though, they start loosening their grip. He gives the human one last squeeze before setting them down, resisting the urge to pout just as they had at the loss of contact.

“I’m delighted to have you, MC!” he smiles, offering them his elbow to make up for the interrupted hug, “Allow me.”

They swoon dramatically and take his arm, allowing him the pleasure of walking them over to the small tea table set in the center of the room. He fixes the positioning of their chair for them (and internally giggles about how they were so excited they almost knocked the ancient piece of furniture over when they threw themselves at him) and gestures for them to sit.

“Thank you.” they say, looking right at home in the Demon Lord’s Castle.

Diavolo ignores the giddy feeling that wells up in his chest at how domestic this feels as he sits down across from them.

“What brings you here, MC?” he asks, setting his intertwined hands on the table.

“Well…” they do the same, clearly teasing him for his formalities, “I wanted to discuss some business with you.”

“Ah, Barbatos has made me aware of your plans to...how did you word it?” he hums, amused at their choice of words that he absolutely remembers.

“Take you out. Like a date.” they grin, radiating smugness that's very becoming of Solomon’s student.

Diavolo wishes they could have this conversation away from Barbatos, who pours their tea as though he isn’t listening. He envies Barbatos’s ability to be present but act as though he couldn’t be more removed—Diavolo thinks his life would be a bit easier if he could do the same. Except he can’t, because he has stacks of paperwork in his office that scream his name every night and make him toss and turn until he gives up and stares at his dark purple canopy and waits for morning. It would be easier to sleep if they were there, he thinks, and he has half a mind to ask Barbatos to make a portal to their room in the House of Lamentation, where they are no doubt sleeping peacefully, so he can drag them into his arms and finally, finally have a good night’s rest.

A rest where he can be Diavolo, with no responsibilities and no crushing weight of an entire realm. Where he can be the demon that takes them out on dates without the entire Devildom scrutinizing them. Where he can be the demon that tries to win the brothers over for their permission to date them (instead of them being too intimidated to tell him no.) Where he can be the demon that walks them to RAD without stares and whispers following them on campus. Where he can just be the demon they love, without consequence or obstacle or any deep rooted hatred.

The world doesn’t work like that.

“Lord Diavolo...?” they wave their hand in front of his face, a concerned expression on theirs, “Are you alright? You just zoned out-”

“Fine, I’m fine MC.” he coughs into his hand, hoping his embarrassment doesn’t show, “Ah...yes, I would be happy to accompany you to Bayside Bonanza Worlds of Wonder.”

“Without the...bump in the road?” they laugh awkwardly, wincing as they catch Barbatos’s eye.

Right, that. Even though that man had been of no danger to Diavolo, if anything had happened to him Barbatos would have had both their head and Belphegor’s. He always thought human beings were beautiful, just like them, but that had been his first exposure to how wicked human beings could truly be. They do coexist with demons already, but it’s a parasitic relationship where the demons take and take and the humans only get worse and worse. Demons suck the life out of humans, they consume them whole, desires and all. It’s a terrible thing, and even though Diavolo knows he’s a demon himself and that he’s not exempt from these things, he wants to do whatever he can to change it.

They only inspire him, spur him on, make his lofty ideals seem possible.

“Without the bump in the road.” he whispers, reaching across the table to offer them his hand.

They take it without a second thought, and their lack of hesitation is as amusing as it is reassuring. They really aren’t scared of it, are they? It’s not just about Diavolo being a demon anymore, or about him being demon royalty. It’s about the responsibilities being close to him will bring. It’s about the fate of two entire realms, resting in their hands, and he wants to ask if it’s as exhausting for them as it is for him but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t feel like he has to, because with them, he is stronger.

Diavolo has always been concerned about what his spoiled upbringing did to his character, whether he forced Barbatos to stay with him or whether he imposed his will a little too hard onto Lucifer during meetings. Now he has to worry about what it will do to them, and their bright smile that he wants to keep all to himself. It’s why he holds himself back, refusing to ask them to accompany him anywhere, but their steady acceptance and even them seeking him out voluntarily has his restraint dangling by a thread.

It won’t be long until he leans in, souls flaring with desire, and captures them. It doesn’t matter what part of him he takes first, as long as he can drag his mouth along the soft patches of skin and make the flesh scream Lord Diavolo was here.

Guilt crashes over him the second the desire subsides, and he feels the need to apologize to them almost immediately. What is he thinking? He’s so jealous of the brothers that get to crowd them every day that he’s losing his mind. He wants to be that close to them, he wants to be able to waltz into their room and sit on their bed and play Mononoke Land but he can’t, and he’s so very sorry.

Being a demon and having desires is who he is, and yet he finds himself apologizing for it every chance he gets.

He doesn’t want to scare them.

“You’ve never scared me.” they whispered, brow furrowed as they trailed a hand down his face, “Diavolo, I promise you’ve never ever scared me.”

It was the first time they told him they weren’t scared.

The first time they’d said his name.

It was the first time someone held him that gently, and the first time someone had treated him like a friend.

Diavolo finds himself staring at them again, and when they squeeze his hand he squeezes it back.

He has only one desire now.

And damn it, that desire is to be able to love them.

#auburn's fics <3 #om: like real people do <3 #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me #om x reader #om! x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #om diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #om! diavolo x reader

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chainofclovers · 1 year

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Keeley made out with a woman on TV last night and the show tag is full of some of the most mean-spirited bad faith intra-fandom reactions to reactions and it’s so fucking disappointing to me.

Multiple things can be true at the same time?!?!

For the people who are annoyed that the “Keeley’s been bi this whole time” crowd is sad that people are taking the events of 3x5 as the only confirmation of her queerness…consider where that sadness might be coming from. Of course seeing Keeley making out with a woman is something to celebrate! Of course it’s a relief to see Keeley not only talk about attraction to women but actually pursue said attraction before our very eyes! But to say any of the previous textual references to her queerness weren’t good enough is to perpetuate the very same bi erasure that makes it so challenging for many queer people—of many orientations, and especially bi/pan orientations—to be taken seriously. It’s an understandable sadness, being reminded over and over that many fans of a TV show reflect a lot of the “real life” dynamics that make people feel less-than-queer when they’re single, or if they haven’t had same-gender experiences, or if they’re currently dating someone who isn’t same-gender.

For the people who are annoyed that the “Keeley is finally a confirmed queer character with a queer storyline” crowd are erasing the jokes and textual and subtextual queer references that came before…consider where that relief might be coming from. Of course the jokes and references were real and realistic! Of course they were valid parts of Keeley’s story, and would be valid even if she never kissed a woman onscreen! But queer people have been burned so many times by “representation” that never pans out, or feels totally flat and inauthentic, or is performed by people who are suddenly wooden actors who lack chemistry with their same-gender counterpart. It’s an understandable relief to see Keeley unequivocally experiencing real-time attraction to a woman who is available for her to explore that with.

You’re all correct. It’s true that Keeley’s bisexuality is a part of her one hundred percent of the time, including moments when she is literally in the middle of having sex with Roy, and she will always be the first character on Ted Lasso to express overt queer attraction. It’s also true that in a TV landscape in which queer stories are under-delivered and frequently disappoint queer audiences, the events of 3x5 are powerful and significant and add a very important new level to Keeley’s characterization.

I am so grossed out and sad that instead of celebrating a queer character’s decision to pursue a queer hookup (that is ethically complex! and takes place at an emotionally tangled time in her life! and is hot! and fun! and might end badly! and reflects real life in its messiness and hungriness!) for the many, many reasons fans might want to celebrate it, this storyline has become an opportunity for fans to ridicule each other about being fans in the “wrong” way, doing queerness in the “wrong” way, etc. For me personally, I’ve felt like Keeley was canonically bi this entire time and it did my heart good to see her pursue a hookup with another woman. Not everyone will feel the same way about it, and that’s okay.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s3 spoilers #keeley jones #bisexuality #bisexual things #queer things #meta by me #ted lasso meta #ted lasso 3x5 #hot dork club

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hollytanaka · 4 months

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More recently, the teams behind Call of Duty have attempted to give more shade and nuance to their depictions of the Middle East. The Modern Warfare reboot centers on an Arab woman named Farah Karim, one of several playable protagonists. “It’s rare to find a memorable brown protagonist,” Hussain said when discussing the history of video games. But Farah is certainly memorable—she survives a chemical attack in the opening act and leads her home country’s freedom fighters [...]. But there’s one problem: Farah is from an entirely made-up Middle Eastern country called Urzisktan. All the other main characters have their roots in real places (Price is from the United Kingdom, Alex is an American), yet she is from a fictitious Middle Eastern place ravaged by war, divided into people who engage in terrorist acts and those who don’t. The entire region is flattened into homogeneity as a result, and it’s all too common in these types of games. “We jokingly call it ‘Arabistan,’” game developer and consultant Rami Ismail said via video call. “A game designer once came up with that term…I think a lot of us use [it]. Some people say it’s a nice thing, but I don’t really see it that way. It just means that we’re literally interchangeable, our cultures are interchangeable.” Ismail continued, “From where I’m sitting it’s like, ‘yes, there’s a country in the Middle East, it needs to be bombed.’ That’s not an improvement to me, at least have the decency of picking a place and then doing it. But by homogenizing it, they can effectively go, ‘no, no, we don’t mean any of the real people. We mean the fictional Arabs that by default are terrorists.’” [...] “It’s perpetuating the idea that there is a singular, Middle Eastern country,” Shammas said during our chat. ”It actually ties in very strongly [to current events] because we’re seeing people say, ‘Oh, well, just take the Palestinians into Egypt, take the Palestinians into Jordan.’ These are different people with different Arabic languages…Call of Duty reflects the fact that we treat these cultures as totally swappable and why people don’t care about the displacement of Palestinian indigenous people specifically.” Shammas returned to that concept later, when I brought up the image circulating social media of an alleged Israeli soldier wearing a face covering similar to Ghost from Call of Duty. “Stateless people, unnamed country—Palestine might as well be anywhere else,” she explained. “It helps with the subtle colonialist narrative that the space is empty, barren, and owned by babbling savages that you can now enter and make something of.” [...] But for many, reckoning with the legacy of military games seems nigh impossible. “There is no value in any military game, and honestly, people should find better games to play,” journalist Saniya Ahmed said in an email. “No cultural representation can come from Call of Duty, nor should it.” Shammas brought up God of War 2018 as an example of a franchise taking its core concept and turning it on its head, questioning protagonist Kratos’ legacy and relationship to violence. Can Call of Duty do something like that? “No. I don’t think it can,” she said. Ismail agreed. “The problem isn’t necessarily that we shouldn’t have Call of Duty games or that Call of Duty should be different from what it is,” he said. “Changing that would require a level of courage and a level of insight at the corporate level that just isn’t possible within our system of making games…Call of Duty is a roller-coaster built on the American consciousness of war.”

– Alyssa Mercante, "We Have To Talk (Again) About How War Games Depict The Middle East," KOTAKU (December 7, 2023).

#call of duty #orientalism #islamophobia #fandomshatepeopleofcolor #farah karim #mw2019 #modern warfare 2019 #cod fandom critical

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midnightsun-if · 11 days

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Know this might be spoilers but I’ve been curious. Can you show us something with past Scar? You’ve mentioned she’s completely different now.

I think I’ll just use one of her current scenes within Chapter One to show you the difference between present and past Scarlett. Showcasing what could have been if certain canon events hadn’t transpired…

Present (Canon) Scarlett

You sidle up to where Scarlett has made her place within the group— towards the center, but still far enough to the side where she couldn’t be bothered. Until you, of course. It’s clear she’s aware of your presence, but she doesn’t deign said knowledge with any form of response; not even a brief glance of acknowledgement.

Well, you think, a slight slump to your shoulders. This plan has gone swimmingly so far.

[Choice]

— Press forward, no use turning back.

“Hey—”

You’re barely able to get the first word of greeting out before Scarlett snaps her hand up, clearly signaling for you to stop.

“Don’t,” she warns, a picture perfect tone of boredom with a frosty underbite. “I have no use in having a conversation with you. Especially not when we would barely have anything to discuss to begin with.”

You tilt your head. “Isn’t that sort of the point of having conversations?”

“I don’t do inane small talk.” Emerald eyes finally glance in your direction. “I haven’t the faintest inclination why you’d want to come over here to begin with and try.”

Something you’re beginning to wonder yourself.

“You looked so unapproachable.”

“And yet.” Scarlett waves a hand in your general direction. “Here you are.”

Past Scarlett

You sidle up to where Scarlett has made her place within the group— towards the center, but still far enough to the side where she couldn’t be bothered, lost in her own thoughts. Until you, of course. It’s clear she’s aware of your presence, but she doesn’t deign said knowledge with any form of response; only briefly throwing a smile your way.

Well, you think, a slight slump to your shoulders. This plan has gone swimmingly so far.

[Choice]

— Press forward, no use turning back.

“Hey—”

The first word is barely able to get out before Scarlett seemingly snaps to attention, an apologetic look etched across her face.

“You were coming to talk with me?” she questions, confusion tugging her brow down. “I wasn’t aware that was your intention upon walking over.” Scarlett glances to the surrounding area, worrying her bottom lip. “I apologize if I might have come off as rude with my silence. That wasn’t my intention.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you easily respond. “I didn’t take it in a bad way.”

She looks relieved at the information.

“What is it you’d like to talk about?” Emerald eyes settle fully on you. “I’m not the best at small talk, but I can certainly try my best if there’s something you wish to discuss.”

Well… You didn’t expect to get this far, so you weren’t entirely sure.

“I was just curious,” you admit, after a moment. “You looked so unapproachable.”

A small smile catches Scarlett’s lips then, an airy chuckle following soon after. “I’ve gotten that quite a bit. I just get lost in my thoughts sometimes. Makes long walks like this more peaceful.” Her smile brightens into a grin. “I’m glad you’re here, of course. Now I have someone to share them with.”

#midnight sun #asks #ro: scarlett voltaire

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almost-a-class-act · 3 months

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hi I saw your recent post in the tag, so um are you taking Givenson prompts? bc if you are can I request a "9. . .out of fear" from that "things you said" list please? I hope that's okay!

Hello! Thanks for the request! I am just now finding my way in the Justified fandom so I'm excited to hear from new pals.

The prompt was: "Things you said out of fear"

It’s the second hat Raylan has lost to a bullet, an “if I had a nickel” sort of situation if ever there was one – except that he’d been able to play down the first one pretty effectively on account of no one currently alive in Harlan County having been there to see it except Loretta.

The second time, he isn’t so lucky.

The sequence of events, as described to him afterward – they’re somewhat muddled in his own recollection, for obvious reasons – are as follows. The bullet passes through his hat, not quite clean, grazing his head. Raylan goes down, as does the fellow who took the shot (cheap, through a window while Raylan stood on the porch), because taking the shot had given him away and Tim needs less than that to punch a ticket at four hundred meters.

By the time he sits up, people are running, which is a relief because it means the situation is going to be handled by someone other than him. Getting shot in the head is no less disorienting than it had been the first time, the sort of thing where you’re scared to touch it in case it’s so much worse than you think. Tim is running, too, and he hurtles up onto the porch, one knee coming down hard on the wood so that he can hunch in and comb away the hair that’s hiding the wound spilling blood down Raylan’s face.

“Think you’re gonna live?” Tim asks, tone as even as it always is, even as his fingertips press into Raylan’s scalp, checking for himself.

“For my sins,” Raylan replies. “Ouch. Do you mind?”

“Looks okay,” Tim says, ignoring him. “Some stitches, maybe.”

Everything is a churn around them, and Raylan patiently lets an EMT with much gentler hands deal with the wound while Tim leaves the porch to congregate in a group with Art and Rachel, within eyesight. Once the bandage is in place, Raylan figures he’s got the okay to do the paperwork on this one tomorrow, and catches Tim’s eye.

They’re only just outside of Lexington, which means the drive isn’t the long slog from Harlan County, and they’re home in twenty minutes. Raylan has a hunch that Tim has a rant locked and loaded, but on the drive all he engages in is a smattering of shop talk – not uncommon for them, to be fair.

In the apartment, Raylan makes his way in the dark to the kitchen, searching out bourbon to cure what ails him. He can see Tim through the doorway to the living room out of the corner of his eye, yanking the curtains across, stopping to scratch the cat behind the ears.

Tim used to closed the curtains on Raylan’s bedroom window every time he came by, too. There aren’t any sightlines to worry about in the apartment they live in now, but it seems to be a force of habit anyway.

And then the light comes on, and Tim is leaning in the kitchen doorway.

“Shoot,” Raylan says, holding up the bottle mutely to ask if Tim wants a pour. He shakes his head.

“Don’t ask me to cover you and then do dumbass shit like stand out in the open.”

“I wasn’t doing dumbass shit,” Raylan says patiently.

“You could teach a college course in doing dumbass shit. Do you think if I wanted to live with anyone else, I’d be living with you?” Tim demands. “You use my mouthwash and you keep letting the cat out.”

“By accident.”

“The circumstances of the situation don’t matter. The cat is still outside at the end.”

Raylan is not going to smile, because Tim is clearly very serious about this, but sometimes the things that come out of Tim’s mouth are very… well, Tim. “Are you telling me not to get myself killed because I’m your last resort?”

“I’m telling you not to get shot in the head.”

He turns and vanishes from the doorway. Raylan has stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth.

“Tim.”

There’s no response, and Raylan drains his glass and follows after. He finds him in the bedroom, enacting the same routine as every night, the same things he would do in the same order no matter the circumstances: Boots, watch, clothes come off, putting on that soft, worn-in Dragonriders of Pern t-shirt and shorts, disappearing into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He always looks young in pajamas, standing at the sink with toothbrush in hand, and Raylan starts to reach for him because sometimes those odd, tense lines in his body don’t go away on their own.

“Don’t touch me,” Tim says pointedly, around his toothbrush, and Raylan redirects.

When they get into bed, sometimes Tim stays up to read while Raylan dozes next to him, but tonight he braces up on his elbow and turns off the light. There might be forty-five seconds of silence, and then Tim rolls over and tucks a proprietary arm around Raylan’s middle, tugging him in until he has Raylan bundled in clumsily against his chest. Raylan lets himself be big-spooned, though he can’t help his bemusement.

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“This is me touching you,” Tim mumbles into the back of his neck.

“Got it.”

“Go to sleep." The edge in Tim's voice from before has gone down a little. Now I can keep you where I can see you. “You do less dumbass shit when you’re sleeping.”

#givenson #justified #tim gutterson #raylan givens #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

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oumaheroes · 1 year

Note

Yes ‘how the UK fit in within their politics’ is defo an interesting topic for me! Please shoot me your insights should you feel like it!

The Cleaner

Characters: Scotland

The Captain (England)

The Artist (France)

------

‘Who’s he?’

The lady next to her looked up from the elections sheets she was running through, ‘Which one?’

‘The reddish haired one. Big guy.’

She squinted down the corridor, ‘Oh. He’s... Kirk, something. Part of the treasury lot, I think? He’s always about.’

‘How long’s he worked here?’

The lady looked confused, an embarrassed realisation, ‘I don’t know.’

---

There is a strange man in Parliament.

He isn’t young, isn’t old. He’s worked here for years, yet no one knows entirely how long. Part of the building almost, the cleaner once heard him joke, older than the walls themselves.

The cleaner is old too. She’s been here years, wiping at the floors with the same type of bleach whilst the fashions and technology changed around her. She hadn’t planned to be here forever, it had only been a temporary job at first, but she found that liked it. Still does. It’s solid, sturdy. Old buildings full of her people’s history, its future made around her in the same walls. She’s seen Prime Ministers come and go, seen the Queen visit several times, and all the while she’s right at the centre watching from the side lines.

It’s funny. She doesn’t have the education to be here, nor the money nor class, yet here she is anyway. Even if she had, she couldn’t have been a politician. Not the brains, her mother used to say. All heart, no head. But she loves listening to them work, loves hearing current events unfold even if she’s not included in their making. They never care that she’s standing nearby to lower their voices. Either that, or they don’t see her there at all.

They don’t always seem to see him, either.

She sees him.

She always sees him. She sees how the tall, broad man has been here for years, standing at the side of the party leaders and officials. Sees him listen as keenly as she does to their talk, sees him stare off up at the paintings of old Scottish royalty on the walls. Watches him stand next to the guards and the boys who work down in electrics- his hands smeared with oil whistling next to polished marble and fine expensive gold.

Everyone else, though, seems to forget. Groups part to include him and then leave him behind. She used to ask about him sometimes, drawn to his laughing eyes and confident walk, but no one ever really knew him to tell her. No one remembered clearly that he’d spoken to them yesterday, or that he’d stood all day in the sun with the security team until the sun had gone down. He’d turn away and grow vague, details of him hard to recall and difficult to bring to mind.

Never for her though. For some reason, he’s as clear in the cleaner’s mind as a bell.

He sees her too.

He catches her eye amongst a crowd and lifts his chin in greeting. Winks at her from a podium, gives a wave on the telly that she somehow feels is just for her, where he stands next to men who look just like him, just as strange. Old green eyes, young face. Unseen ghosts over their shoulders, left over from something her mind can’t bring itself to consider.

Some things should not be questioned. There are things in this world that should not be named or recognised, things that deserve the respect of silence. The cleaner has always believed in the old way of things, the wisdom of the past that has endured down the centuries. The rules of the fae, the ways of an older world that is not meant for her. The years have forgotten this man for a reason, and she knows that it is not her place to question the way of things.

It is her last day today.

She still loves her job but it hurts to climb stairs now and there are so many here. She has a few years left in her, would grow bored sat doing nothing at home, so she’s got another position starting Monday to tide her over until she can’t go any longer. It’s somewhere newer and flatter and she’s disappointed with it already.

He finds her just as she’s about to leave, uniform folded and returned and her hands half in gloves.

‘I hear you’re leaving.’ He offers her a card and a small gift bag, ‘Glad I caught you.’

She takes them. ‘Thank you.’

She knows some things about this man. She knows that she loves him as much as she does her own son, knows that she would give him anything if he asked. She knows him as if they’ve been friends for years, and she knows that he knows her too. Her name, her family- all the way back through the generations to the very beginning of her kin.

She doesn’t know what to say. The questions she really wants to ask stay caught in her mouth as they should, buzzing and dangerous. She can’t get them out, can’t put the words in order.

He sees her. All of her.

‘Thanks for all your hard work.’

He offers his hand to shake and she takes it. Understanding flashes through her and then recedes, softly, like mist on the high northern hills.

‘Thank you.’ She says, eventually, ‘For remembering me.’

He squeezes her hand and winks, ‘The same in kind.’

A name comes to her that she dismisses. Swallows it back, feeling foolish.

Deep in her bones, she knows that it’s true.

#hws scotland #aph scotland #hws #aph #hetalia #the workings of nations #nations as seen by humans #heroes writes #nations as they appear to humans

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moreespressoformydepresso · 4 months

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So here’s a story that’s currently the fourth(?) next WIP on my list rn:

Tanner being part of one of those groups in high school, labeled as a “bad boy” (the type that wears way too much leather for 30°C weather, smokes regularly, and crosses around on a motorbike) but it’s the actual good kind of bad boy and not whatever recent books have been doing. By which I mean he looks mean and acts the part towards people who he doesn’t like, but he’s a perfect sweetheart with golden retriever energy towards everybody else.

Treech, meanwhile, is a Jehova’s Witness whose family is particularly extreme and abusive. He has to appear always happy and perfect because to make the church look good he has to always look like he has the perfect life with the perfect family and the perfect future. The space behind the closed door is full of mental health issues, indoctrination, and several forms of abuse (because cult). Lamina’s family was also part of the church, but they were much more moderate and eventually left and got excommunicated, meaning Treech isn’t even allowed to look at his best friend since forever. It’s very angsty :).

To distract from several big scandals the church of Jehova’s Witnesses plans a big charity event that takes place in the big park in the middle of the city, and Treech has a spot there where he sells wooden stuff that he made and carved. He learned from his grandparents, who were the only people he had a healthy relationship with aside from Lamina. All of the friends he has now are approved by his parents (so terrible and judgmental people who go way too far in their beliefs). When his grandparents died he kept practicing the craft because it’s all he has left of them. At the charity event he makes stuff on the spot and people pay a differing price depending on what they ask him to make. This is where Treech meets Tanner and his friend group properly. It’s everyone that isn’t Treech. They go to the same school but their groups do not like each other since, you know, Tanner’s group “commits sin”. They ask him to make something that goes against the teachings of the church, and he politely declines before asking if they may want something else. When Lamina comes he looks clearly heartbroken, but apologizes and looks away as he’s supposed to do when seeing someone who’s been excommunicated.

Later, Tanner asks Treech to help him with some kind of project. Either Tanner’s part of the theater club in some capacity or it’s for a party or something. Treech agrees after a bit of convincing and with Tanner being Treech’s main point of contact for the project they have a chance to talk. And get closer. Which leads to Treech realizing he may possibly not be as straight as he thought he was. Given the church and his family’s stance on everything that isn’t the nuclear family ideal, this is not a good thing. It gets even worse when Tanner seemingly starts… flirting with him? Possibly?? But Tanner is a sinner and while Treech likes him and won’t treat anybody badly for making their own choices it’s still wrong and all of this is wrong. Yes, Tanner did start flirting with Treech. Far before he notices and has a mini breakdown over it, because Tanner has a thing for pretty boys. And one with a personality that’s compatible with his? Hell yes.

Long story short Treech has a faith crisis and when his friends spot him with Tanner he gets in deep trouble. He ends up getting excommunicated and kicked out by his parents once he confesses he’s had doubts about small things, even though he never told them he’d had doubts about the bigger things as well, and he ends up running to Lamina’s house. They let him in and let him stay there for the time being, which brings us to the recovery part of the story. Treech and Tanner start dating and while Treech is still a christian, he’s no longer in a cult and slowly starts mellowing out as he slowly shakes himself free of the indoctrination. It’s a long road towards unlearning all that he’d been taught, but things finally look up as he rebuilds his life.

BONUS: Tanner loves coffee and he and several of their friends (including Lamina) spend a lot of time trying new coffees or making their favorite ones. Treech tries his first sip of coffee with them after they made him a fancy one that’s beginner-friendly.

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n7punk · 2 months

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“Make Me a Monster” Fic Notes

MMaM was pretty short and this will be too but this fic has some Backstory and I wanna talk about it lmao.

Playlist:

Warriors (AJ Michalka version)

heavy. — Au/Ra

The Creeps — Garbage

LIFE AFTER SALEM — Lil Nas X

The Heartless (original rock version) — PVRIS (kind of hard to get. Was only available on their PARIS EP which isn’t available for streaming last I checked)

Waking Up (Acoustic) — PVRIS (from the acoustic version of the PARIS EP, which is available on youtube)

chaotic — Tate McRae

Hate myself — Tate McRae

R.E.M. — Mothica

Shatter — Against The Current

Frankenstein — Rina Sawayama

My Limb — Hayley Williams

Epilogue Life:

It takes awhile and I could never write this fic in a timespan where it’s complete, but Adora does come to accept her new prosthetics. After the revelations about She-ra and the Heart, she comes to realize this version of them is the most ideal she could get purely because they don’t need maintenance, removal, cleaning etc and she can care for them the exact way she can the rest of her body, which makes them feel a lot more like her body. Her sense of touch isn’t 100%, still losing some texture differentiation and the ability to really feel light touches (she wouldn’t feel a bug walking on her arm for example), but as shown in the epilogue she learns to adapt, and eventually she stops covering up so much either. When she starts to wear her jacket less is when Catra knows she has made real progress. Her prosthetics are magic and never need intervention, which helps.

On Catra’s part, her guilt also takes a lot to process, as does her trauma from her time chipped, which only feeds into her guilt because she feels like she inflicted that same dehumanization on Adora. She comes to focus her energy on “fixing” things instead though, which does lead to some unhealthy burnout, but the worry her friends show for her then does a lot to help her internalize that no, they really don’t hate her.

It’s one of those cases where they take longer to get to a healthy place than in canon, but they do eventually reach it. They get through the worst of it early on, but those effects echo for a long time.

Chapter 1:

⦁ I was pretty worried going into this how people would feel about this, mostly because it’s an incredibly complex situation. Prosthetics are often helpful, but they tend to not be as effective as people hope and even when they are, that still doesn’t mean people don’t look at them and see what they lost sometimes. This situation in particular, where the prosthetics were largely unnecessary and completely forced on her, was painful. Adora is struggling not just with that, but with the very familiar process of trying to get back where she was before an injury/disability, but sometimes that’s just not possible. She’s seeking every piece of functionality and feeling she gets with her prosthetics, but that doesn’t mean she is less for having lost something either. I was worried about people thinking that attitude she has is ableist, when it’s really just a part of the disabled experience. Some people never have it, but I’m definitely someone who has struggled with trying to get things back while knowing I’ll never get it all. It… really sucks, and even when things seem good, there can be a bittersweetness to them. That’s the kind of attitude I was approaching this fic with. There was also the medical abuse angle with her prosthetics. Despite her impossibly advanced prosthetics, this is a very real thing I actually saw conversations about when TotK came out, which is what gave me of the exact phrase for that trigger because I was having trouble naming/describing it in the content warning before that.

⦁ Hordak was working on prosthetic limbs in the event that his deteriorating state made it impossible for him to keep working, using Adora as his guinea pig to test their effectiveness. Shadow Weaver kind of thought there was a chance She-ra could regrow them entirely even if that wasn’t what she was banking on. She actually thought the second accident was a mercy, because Hordak already wanted to test out the set on Adora at that point, so making it “necessary” was supposed to be easier on Adora. Her empathy meter is broken.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Catra just can’t “get” why Adora stayed, but it was kind of impossible for her to leave before that. Part of her already knew Shadow Weaver would be back for more, but she couldn’t let herself do it because it was the “wrong” thing to leave Etheria to the princesses. When she realized the Rebellion wasn’t actually monsters, it was all so much worse because she realized everything — her arms, Catra’s punishments, the horrible way they grew up that she didn’t even really have perspective for — had been for nothing. Catra was right all along. They should have runaway. So she did

⦁ I didn’t intend to title the chapters of this fic since it was so short, but then the “You promise?” line came up and I wanted to make that the chapter title for clarification purposes if nothing else, so I added them in.

Chapter 3:

⦁ I know I’m kind of the “let’s talk about traumatized Catra” person but tbh I still don’t think we give enough weight to having your body literally puppeted while you watch and undergo nightmare hallucinations. Like how the fuck was she functioning after that. So yeah on top of Adora being extra traumatized in this (and Catra additionally having extra trauma from watching that happen), I wanted to go a bit into the echoes of having been under Horde Prime’s control for Catra too. (Other members of the Princess Alliance who were chipped definitely deal with nightmares from this too, but I have a feeling the nightmare scenarios were mostly unique to Catra, especially considering the green pool wasn’t used on the others and by the time Prime had the others under his control he was dealing with a lot of chips and conjuring up nightmare scenarios for them all doesn’t make sense.)

⦁ In this AU there was a lot more immediately obvious awfulness from Shadow Weaver, so even after the portal Glimmer did keep her confined to her room, not that it helped Adora’s mental state much. She was a lot more hated and shunned in Bright Moon and when they were on the run. Catra and Adora still cried watching her die, but after the fact their general attitude is a mixture of “good riddance” and “how could she do all that to us and then just die without ever acknowledging it?” They take her sacrifice as the closest thing they’ll ever guilt to an admission of feeling guilt.

⦁ The thing about Adora never being able to tell if her sensation is back to “normal” is a very real thing when it comes to disability. I remember at one point telling a friend that I couldn’t tell if I wasn’t in pain or was just shouldering it because I didn’t remember what not being in pain felt like anymore.

⦁ If you know my poll, this was “in the engine room.”

Chapter 4:

⦁ In this AU, they have no idea the First Ones Virus could infect She-ra with just the sword since it seemed “obvious” it spread from the robots, to the sword, to her prosthetics, which somehow caused everything to go haywire. Because she was working with her original set that was less advanced, the virus was legitimately latched onto She-ra itself, which also explains why it went away with she reverted the transformation. They just thought changing “bodies” let her purge the virus when she transformed back. The corruption from the First Ones… worm, thing, corrupted Adora’s limbs similarly to how the virus took over her, only with green instead of red, completely changing the colors of her arms and legs and then slowly creeping up her veins. It was gnarly.

⦁ Entrapta just has a better connection with Catra and was looking to her for an answer, but a small incline of the head was their signal back in the Horde that she should really just agree with whoever she’s talking with. She almost never paused to notice it, but Catra was trying her best (and failing) to keep her out of trouble.

Original Outline:

Originally this AU was supposed to be longer, starting when Adora first lost her limbs, then skimming through scenes throughout the series, until finally landing on Darla. That was just an extra 2-3 chapters probably, but 1) god that’s too much angst. It kept me from writing it for like 9 months because I didn’t want to do it, 2) the balance just wasn’t there? Everything got “minute-to-minute” once they were on Darla, with entire chapters dedicated to it, where as the previous chapters were scattered moments taking place over literal years. This did mean I lost some ideas that were supposed to take place in the war and such (the princess prom scene, for example), but it’s still better for it.

I started to write that longer version of it back in 2022(!) but only worked on it for two days to about 2k before I was like this is not vibing and dropped it. When I picked it back up with the shorter timeline in mind, I wrote 70% of this fic in one sitting back in September, but then I got kind of stuck on their reconciling conversation and I think it was just a little too much angst for me then so I didn’t come back to it the next day. I’ve opened it occasionally since then to glance over but it just wasn’t clicking until this week. I edited what I had and wrote the rest of the fic in two days once I was there, though. I am proud of this fic but it’s definitely a very emotional one so it kind of has to happen in bursts like that. I’m glad to have finally gotten it out now, as rocky as getting from idea to completion was. I had the idea November 14th 2022, wrote most of it September 4th 2023, and finally finished it March 9th 2024.

Upcoming:

Start Your Engine ;)

#MMaM #fic notes #ficmeta

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domaslut · 1 year

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LOVE ME LIKE YOU.

Starring: Merula Snyde x f!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Plot: you have to pick a date for the incoming Ball and all of your friends seem to have suddenly picked an interest in you. No one, however, made you feel as alive as Merula did. After a tormented night spent wide awake in your bed, you finally confront and confess your feelings to the lovely brat you have fallen in love with.

REQUESTED BY: @btvdc

VALENTINE’S DAY EVENT: “LOVE ME LIKE YOU”.

Quote: “Last night, I laid in bed so blue 'Cause I realized the truth They can't love me like you I tried to find somebody new Baby, they ain't got a clue Can't love me like you”.

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“Let me guess… You haven’t picked a date yet, have you?” Tonks quizzically inquired, plopping down on the empty seat next to you.

“Bingo” you shortly replied, fidgeting with the umpteenth note you had received since the beginning of the week. Where did all of these secret admirers come from? Further more, why did they not sign their gushing letters, if they desperately yearned to be your date for the Ball? You were officially done with them and the absurd situation they were putting you through.

Your pink-haired friend chuckled and propped her chin over her hand, her bright eyes scanning the Great Hall in search for a potential candidate to accompany you to the infamous Ball “What about Andre? He has declared countless times that you’re his muse… I wouldn’t be surprised, if one of these notes has been sent by him?” she observed, pursuing her lips at you.

You averted your droopy eyes from the note to your ravenclaw friend, who was currently showing a new, expensive fabric to a rather joyful Penny. Well, maybe Tonks was not wrong about Andre… But the blonde potioneer was probably one of the other anonymous senders. You thought you had recognized her calligraphy earlier and, judging by the languid glances she was directing to you from across the room, there was no doubt about it. Penny had a crush on you.

“You’re probably right, but I’m not interested in him… And, for what can matter, I’m not going to choose Penny either. – you said, folding your arms over your chest – She’s way too sweet and pure to be my perfect match” you clarified, lolling your head back in dispair.

At this point, you had almost given up on going to the Ball. If a romantic experince had to turn into a stressful loop of anxiety and dissatisfaction, you would have rather spent the night locked up in your dorm, cuddling your pets.

Tonks snickered and stood up, shooting a knowing look at you “Ouch, poor Penny... Well, then I guess I should probably let you know that Tulip heard Talbott and Badeea talking about you in the ravenclaw common room yesterday. – she casually informed you, stretching her arms over her head – Actually, they were arguing. I mean, isn’t it weird? They’re both so calm and rational, then again they’ve lost control over you!”.

Your left eye twitched, your hand ripped up the note in your hand at the shocking revelation. When did she think it was the right time to let you know about it? Not that you were going to consider them as an option in the first place, but you would have surely avoided them down the corridors earlier. Any kind of interaction would have been detrimental in your desperate search for the right date.

“Tonks! – you whined, stomping your foot as a sign of irritation – Is there something else you wish to tell me?” you rhetorically asked her, palming your forehead.

She shook her head and turned her back at you “Nah, I’mma go to bed. And you should do the same!” she replied, ambling towards the exit calmly, as if she had not just dropped a bomb.

She was right. Maybe you were just too tired. And, maybe, you had already made up your mind. You knew who your heart desired, who you enjoyed sharing your meals, or butterbeers with. You had a fling with her. Nothing official, yet something important. You had not kissed many times. Actually, you had barely kissed. However, the way your lips brushed over hers, and the fact that the spark igniting your heart that very night was still vividly stuck in your mind were a clear sign that you were in love with her.

Dragging your feet along the floor, you made your way to your dorm and slipped under the covers without even changing into a proper attire. You were too stressed, too nervous and you struggled to fall asleep for hours. You tossed and turned continously, as you tried to make up your mind. You were conscious that, if you decided to pick her as your date for the ball, this time it would have been forever.

“Fuck it, alright?” you cussed, rolling on your back and staring at the ceiling.

Did anyone else make you feel the way she did? No. Was there someone else residing 24/7 in your mind? Of course no…

“Well… Maybe Barnaby? Argh, who am I kidding? He is always so sweet with me. Just stop, Y/N! I love her! There is no going back. I choose her” you said, maybe a little bit too loud, considering it was 2 o’ clock in the morning. One of your roommate groaned out in frustration and threw a pillow in your direction, that you easily dodged.

“Shut the hell up and ask her out. I wanna sleep...” she ranted, slithering back underneath the blankets to try to get some sleep.

The morning after, you met her at breakfast. You had a very hard time to approach her, especially when Ismelda shot daggers in your direction and seemed to be a minute away from jinx you. Your purple-eyed crush, on the other hand, had no troubles in glaring at her and making you the center of her attention.

“So, what’s the matter? Have you slept last night?” she commenced, cocking her head to the side.

You rolled your eyes at her and rubbed the back of your neck in distress “Please, Merula, don’t make things so damn complicated. – you complained, locking eyes with her – Be my date. I … I’d very much like it, if you just said yes” you blurted out, cheeks flushing up as she stared at you dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” she asked, blinking skeptically at you.

“Yes, I am”.

“Prove it then” she challenged you, folding her arms against her chest.

You chewed on your lower lip in nervousness, fists clenched at your sides as you pondered her request. You were there, opening your heart to her, making the first step, and she had the audacity of teasing you? Was it not clear enough that you were serious about your proposal? Yet, that side of her personality, what most of your friends loathed about her, was exactly what drove you crazy.

“I love you” you simply quipped then, watching her lips parting in disbelief. Yet, you were done playing games. Sticking up to your intent to make your relatioship official, you cupped her heart-shaped visage in your hands and smashed your lips against her ones.

That was the kiss you had dreamt about for years. That was the kiss you craved and the one you could not wait up until midnight to finally steal from her. Merula was completely shocked, as if a lightning had struck her and she was left fuzzy and disoriented right after it.

“No one is quite like you” you breathed out, pressing your forehead against hers.

She blushed, pulling you in for another brief kiss “I get to have the last word, though. Don’t forget it” she joked, winking at you.

You chuckled and took a step back, bowing your head as a sign of resignation to her umpteenth declaration of her supremacy “See you tonight, miss Snyde”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there!

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys! This is the first request I had got from my “Valentine’s Day Event”. I will publish the other ones in the next few days. I hope you have enjoyed this drabble♥️

And, if you cannot find me online on tumblr, just text me on my wattpad account: Domaslut! I hang on that platform quite a bit❤️

x o x o

#merula x jacob's sibling #merula snyde x reader #merula snyde x mc #merula snyde #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts legacy #harry potter hogwarts game #harry potter series #hogwarts mystery #gryffindor #slyherin #ravenclaw #penny haywood #barnaby lee #felix rosier #tulip karasu #rowan khanna

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