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xxlady-lunaxx · 4 months

Text

Live for us | {SaneObaGiyuu}

Theme: Angst+fluff+angst!

Note: TW's!! self harm, suicide, self degradation, blah blah, ok you get it

they're already dating and tanji doesn't exist <3

×××

There was a thing about life that made it so unappealing. Several things, actually. But for one, you don't even make it out alive. What's the point? What do you live for if you're just going to die in a couple years? You don't even know if you'll make it past tomorrow. So what's the point?

The fact stood, however, that if Giyuu died, he would no longer see Sanemi and Obanai anymore. Which seemed to be the sole reason he was alive. He didn't even know if he should keep living for them. He was a nuisance anyway. He would only bother them and they were better off alone. He wondered, often, if they would notice if he died.

Though they did seem to notice other things. Like if he was quieter than usual—which was saying something, considering he was often quiet—or if he hadn't been eating. His eating problems weren't like Obanai's. They were selfish—Obanai's made sense.

Giyuu didn't eat because he hoped he would starve to death. He would waste Sanemi's carefully made food just because he wasn't happy. He was stupid.

He was so sure that Sanemi and Obanai were quite done with him. He figured that if they weren't so nice, they would've dropped his ass immediately. He had forced them into the relationship anyhow, right? He'd forced himself into theirs. Somehow, for some reason, they had let him. They acted as if they loved him—but did they really?

Sometimes, when he watched them, he could imagine that they would be perfectly fine without him. Smiling and laughing. They looked good together. They were better off without his presence. He was nothing but a river between to pieces of land, pushing them apart. He only ruined things.

They insisted, for his sake, that he wasn't annoying. They said they loved him. They said they cared. But they couldn't truly, right? Shinobu had said it herself—nobody liked him. Nobody wanted to be his friend, much less his boyfriend. So how had he gotten two boyfriends? Simple. They were too kind to let him down. They probably figured he would cry like a fucking baby and follow them like a stupid child if they rejected him. He would. He probably would.

That was the worst of it. He knew why they hated him. But he couldn't let himself to accept it. Or, at least, leave them be. He stuck to them like glue, unwilling to leave their side. You see, they were the only people who could make him feel, even just for a split second, that he might possibly want to live. That he might be worth it. That life might be worth it. Just for a minute. And it was the most selfish thing he ever let himself keep. He refused to be selfish, typically, but he needed it. Wanted it. He longed for it. Yearned for it to last. A little longer. A minute more.

×××

Sanemi knew what it looked like when someone hurt themself deliberately. He would know. He used to do it. But that was in the past. He hadn't given it much of a thought again after months—years—passed. He began to feel content again and mostly forgot that he'd ever had an episode like that.

Obanai and Giyuu were his absolute pride and joy—and Genya, though he would never admit it to anyone. They made him feel as if he could lead a somewhat normal life, or at least die a content death. So he went along with his life just fine for a while. Until Giyuu stumbled into his house, face pale and arms slack.

For a moment, he got a sense of déjà vu. He didn't understand it at first and simply picked up Giyuu, asking if he was alright. Then it hit him.

The first time he had purposefully harmed himself, he hadn't been sure what was wrong with him. It was when Masachika was alive. Sanemi hadn't slept well that day and had awoken with a surge of guilt and pain. He didn't understand himself. He had grabbed his katana and numbly drew it down his own body, watching blood spill from the wounds. The blade had been sharp. And he had pressed much too hard. But the pain felt relieving, as if feeling some pain would make up for the loss of his family, his siblings he'd been unable to protect. It soothed his mind. But then Masachika had entered the room.

The katana had dropped and suddenly his wounds stung in a million other ways and he no longer felt the momentary comfort from them. He cried out, standing. He had wobbled towards Masachika, unsure what he was doing. He was sure, now, that he must've looked exactly as Giyuu did now. Collapsing into Masachika's arms, molded by the concern lacing his friend's gaze.

He must've looked the same. Pale and shaky. Wondering what the hell had he done.

Sanemi tugged Giyuu's sleeves up. When he had done it, it had been all over his body. His legs, his arms, his chest. But he had caught a glint of bandages from under Giyuu's haori sleeve. It hadn't been there earlier and he hadn't gone on any missions since they had last met.

The bandages were stained red. It was only one arm, but it was still one arm. It was still there.

He scooped Giyuu up, taking him to his room. He placed him down on the futon, ordering him to stay there before shouting at his crow to go find Obanai and scouring his bathroom for towels and bandages.

When Obanai had arrived, they had mopped up Giyuu's arm, putting light pressure on the wounds as they dabbed the blood with the towel. The bandages were wrapped around his arm and then they pulled him under the covers of the bed, quiet. They stole worried glances, holding Giyuu in a tight embrace.

After Giyuu had fallen asleep, they had spoken to one another in hushed tones for hours. They hadn't known that Giyuu had been unhappy to the point he would do something like this. And Sanemi feared it wasn't a one-time thing. That it was worse. That it would spread.

Obanai suggested they spoke to Giyuu about it. He said that they would have to help him, somehow. To make him have something to live for, maybe.

When they talked to Giyuu, the following day, over this matter, he had brushed it off.

"I'm alright," he had said. "I was just feeling bad yesterday."

Neither believed him. Giyuu had never been the best at lying. He hadn't suddenly gotten the talent to.

They ended up dragging him back to Sanemi's house for another cuddle session. This time, however, they involved Giyuu in the talking. The conversation went back and forth time after time, constantly revolving back to the fact that Sanemi and Obanai loved him dearly and then Giyuu denying it and assuming they didn't.

In the end, however, they were satisfied with the results. Giyuu ended up contently snuggling into their hugs and finally giving up with his argument. he seemed a bit happier after the talk and Sanemi and Obanai relaxed slightly.

Of course, they of all people should've known to never let their guard down. But it's only human to forget every now and then. Even when it comes at the worst times possible.

×××

It would've been a lie to say that Giyuu hadn't felt better after his boyfriends told him how much they loved him for an hour straight. But it would've also been a lie to say that it helped him on the long run. See, it made him feel better for about two hours after the talk. Roughly. And then his mind ran wild.

They must've been telling him that to make him stop being a burden to them. So they would stop having to help him. They probably felt pressured to do it. Yes, that was it. They didn't love him as much as they said they did. Words were empty, right? Promises didn't save Tsutako's life. Neither did they mean much when they told him "I love you." They didn't love him. They shouldn't. They wouldn't. Who would love him anyway? It was illogical. Unlikely. Stupid.

The thoughts molded his mind. They made up his thoughts. They made him want to curl up in a ball and cry. And maybe get dehydrated from that and die. Then in that moment he made a decision. It wasn't a sober one. He wasn't in the right mind. But it was far too late to stop him.

He was being ludicrous. Of course they didn't love him! Of course they wanted him out of their sight right away! Why would they care about him? There was nothing appealing about Giyuu; he was quiet and stubborn and annoying. He was nothing but another person to worry about because he was too childish and careless to take care of himself. So he was better off gone. Out of their lives.

His hand was on his katana, pulling it out of his sheathe. Then the blade was at his throat. He felt nothing more.

×××

It came, as would be expected from anyone but Giyuu, a shock. At first, the Hashira were confused. Was this a joke? It was the middle of the day. What had happened to Giyuu? How had he died? And then one word fell upon their ears and they were stiffened with shock.

"Suicide."

The news reached Sanemi and Obanai first—who were on their way to Giyuu's house to hopefully spend some time together. They had been making their way idly to his house, talking lightheartedly. Then a crow swooped by. Was that Kanzaburou?

The word of Giyuu's death that he'd inflicted upon himself had barely left the bird's beak before the two had dropped their food—which they'd had to maybe convince Giyuu to eat lunch with them—and rushed to his house. The door was broken open—there was no use knocking.

The house was eerily silent for the middle of the day. Their footsteps, though loud, and their calls of his name didn't fill in the quiet that had befallen over the house. They stopped dead at his bedroom door, eyes wide but face otherwise slack with shock. Giyuu's body was slumped down, his head deattached from his body. His katana was held loosely in his hand, blood dotted vaguely on the blade. He was dead.

First came the shock. The processing. Then panic surged both Hashira forward and they stumbled towards his body, kneeling by his side. There was no hope on saving him. There couldn't be.

They searched the room. Had there been something to trigger him? No. What was it? Had they not done enough? Had they made it worse? What had happened? What the hell had fucking happened?

The news rippled through the Hashira. A death like this, though not uncommon for Demon Slayers, was the first amongst the Hashira in decades. Because of that, several Hashira were at Giyuu's house within minutes of getting the occurance. They found Sanemi and Obanai bent over Giyuu's body, clutching each other and shaking. Tears didn't seem to be coming out but silent screams rendered them useless as Tengen slowly pulled Giyuu from under them, wrapping him in a blanket to be buried.

Neither Sanemi nor Obanai knew what had happened. But both blamed themself. And the cycle began.

×××

« Word count: 1921 »

sun is shining, birds are singing, nice day to write angst!

333 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Note

CHUBBY! READER X ALASTOR

I'm soooo sorry that I'm requesting something else this just came to me and I needed your storytelling expertise to bring it to life 😢

ALSO ALSO ALSO this one has a trigger warning so please read with the thought that YOURE PERFECT!!!😤(if you write it)

OTAY OTAY soooooooooooo reader has been apart of the hotel for awhile and has developed a crush on Alastor from afar and the small instances they do cross paths but hesitates to approach him on her own because well we're shy and HES THE RADIO DEMON anyway reader doesn't have to worry about distance between them because Alastor is AVOIDING HER ALL ON HIS OWN 😯 AND somehow reader gathers the courage to approach Alastor but sees his relationship with Rosie (they're besties, platonic soulmates definitely) and thinks 'wow, she's so beautiful and...thin' and proceeds to lock herself away from everyone (SOLITUDE) and skips meals (starving herself), Alastor is the first to notice shes missin and pulling away but doesn't know how to approach her without stumbling over his words (i like to think that hes a heartbreaker to other women like his fans but with someone that he likes with real feelings hes fumbling in the dark because he could get rejected instead, i will die on the hill) so so so he hesitates to ask reader whats wrong till he hears her throwing up or she says something awful about herself and Alastor gets angry on her behalf and reader goes silent, only for Alastor to take a breath and tell her that 'shes hurting herself, for a shallow reason such as looks', and reader goes 'i thought you liked to watch others downfalls' and then hes like 'not your downfall, never you' 😔 reader starts to cry and shouts "im not Rosie', confused Alastor finally starts putting the pieces together and grabs reader hands and sincerely says "good, i wouldn't rosie anyhow, or anyone else for that matter', reader continuing to cry tells him to stop lying that this joke isn't funny and Alastor kissies her hand as says "whos joking? I only want you, your perfect" then then then slowly Alastor starts to help reader look at themselves in a more positive light [[fit this in somewhere???????Alastor tells reader why hes so close to rosie (he's clueless about reciprocated love so he goes to Rosie because canon that she knows matters of the heart...right?)]]

A/N as always i am obsessed with your request. Also I 100% agree with the assessment of Alastor's ability to talk to people he actually likes. I am literally so obsessed with this request. Also I am assuming from your previous comments you wanted the same bunny demon character?? Please forgive me if I am wrong but I did it for her (because I love her dearly and she is based of meeeee and I'm egotisticalllllll). Kisses bestie <3 <3

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Bunny Demon!Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 4,076 (I got a little carried away)

Warnings: BODY IMAGE ISSUES!!! EDS!!!! I think that's it but they're in all caps for a reason so if you have ED issues maybe don't read this one??? It is hurt//comfort tho so maybe do???? Idk. If you get triggered by ed descriptions, don't. If having a fictional character tell you you're perfect the way you are and beg you to stop destroying yourself because they can't bear to watch would help you, do.

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

It had taken months. Months of wondering what he was like, of stolen glances, of furtive daydreams. Months of building up courage, of backing down, months of hoping and dreaming. It had taken endless encouragement from Angel, countless pages in her diary. It had taken a million deep breaths, ten thousand trembles of her hands. Months, it had taken months.

It wasn't like Y/n had never spoken to the man before. That wasn't really the issue. She wasn't scared of him, just scared. The simple idea of being alone with him was an intoxicating mixture of terror and utter bliss. Y/n didn't know how to handle it, she didn't know how to handle him.

Alastor was untouchable, nearly semi-divine in her eyes. Sure, he was fucked up, but they all were. At the end of the day, his facade was as easy to see through as a cheap paper crown from a Christmas cracker. Beneath the wide smile, the sharp teeth, the stories, Alastor was just a man. He cared deeply for the world around him, for the people around him and those in his life. No matter how hard he tried to disguise it, it always shone through to Y/n.

It wasn't like she had never spoken to Alastor before, she had just never spoken to him alone before. Every interaction they had ever had was as a part of the larger group of Hotel residents and staff. On the rare occasion they ran into one another in the hallway or happened to each be in the kitchen at the same time, Y/n froze up. Words turned to stones in her stomach and all she could ever seem to manage was a gentle nod, a shaky smile. It frustrated her to no end.

Finally, she had worked up the courage to talk to him. It was all Angel's idea really, she would never have had the thought to do such a thing on her own but his pushing had been relentless and at last, Y/n had agreed.

And it had taken months, months! This was her third attempt to go up to him. They had even lowered the stakes, Angel saying all she had to do was have a single normal conversation with the man and he would let her off the hook, stop his pestering and teasing. It was just her luck, really just her god damn luck.

Sir Pentious had informed Y/n that Alastor had left the hotel to see a friend, Charlie had given her the address of the cafe he had said he would be at should they need him. Everyone was all smiles, all encouragement. Y/n reminded herself to yell at Angel later for spilling her secret although, she guessed she shouldn't have expected anything else from the hotel's biggest gossip.

Putting on her favorite outfit, her hair all done up and makeup perfect, Y/n had slicked her ears flat against her head in determination and stepped out onto the streets of Pentagram City. It didn't take long for her to find the place, a sweet little cafe on the outskirts of Cannibal Town with white wrought iron chairs and a cheerful pink and purple sign. It hadn't taken her long to spot the bright red of Alastor's suit through the window either, standing out against all the muted purples and dark blacks of the other cannibals enjoying their meals within.

"It's fine. It's totally not weird that you're going up to him in a cafe he's having lunch in with a friend, that you.... oh my god Y/n!! He's gonna think you were stalking him! You should just go back and- no! You promised. Y/n, you can do this."

She took a deep breath, centering herself in that little core, that rod of who she was, that shot down the center of her being. Raising a closed fist to her chest, she shut her eyes.

"You can do this, Bunny." she reaffirmed, "You can do this."

Opening her eyes, she crossed the street. Her hand was inches away from the door's handle, her heart racing but set on what she was about to do, when Y/n noticed exactly who Alastor's 'friend' was.

Across the table from him, sipping delicately on a cup of tea, was the most beautiful demon Y/n thought she had ever laid eyes on. She had long, dainty fingers, thin and spidery, and the most perfectly proportioned body. She was tall, long legs sheltered by her skirt and a tiny waist that threw her hips and chest into contrast. The woman's hair was neat, tucked up beneath a wide brimmed hat. Her clothes were classy, her smile was bright and charming, the black holes of her eyes were... were... were everything. She was everything, everything Y/n wasn't.

Suddenly, the weight of her own body against her bones became all too real. She felt the urge to never be touched again, the same strange sickness of her youth sinking its teeth into the softness of her stomach, her thighs, her arms, all of her. Her hand lowered from the handle, Alastor laughing at something the woman had said to him. He seemed relaxed, more at peace than Y/n had ever seen the man before. If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

It took a second for the other residents of the Hazbin Hotel to realize the change. Y/n was good at this, she'd had practice. For years, she had worked to move past it all but the threat of a relapse had always hung over her head. It was her sword of Damocles, her fated demise.

Y/n retreated in to herself, she couldn't get the image of that woman out of her head. Poised, statuesque, thin. God, Y/n had never wanted anything more than she wanted to be thin. She wanted to rip fistfuls of flesh from her body, she wanted to wither away so only something beautiful remained.

Alastor was the first to notice. He had a soft spot for the rabbit demon who always seemed to be full of that soft, discrete joy and unending kindness. She was a more toned down version of Charlie. She was genuine and completely herself, no holds bared. She had such a hope, she had such a goodness, it made him wonder why she hadn't ended up in Heaven instead.

The truth was, behind the bravado and the grin, Alastor was scared of Y/n. He was scared he would touch her and she would rot away or worse, that she would run. She was just so good, so intrinsically wondrous, and he was the opposite. She was a fresh rose and he was the person coming haplessly along with a pair of gardening shears. She was radiant, she was carved fresh from marble, he was down bad.

Women had never been a priority or a problem for Alastor. Living and dead, they flocked to him. He knew his reputation was to blame, not to mention his looks. They could be fun for a while. Alastor saw charming them as a game, a good way to pass the time. This was different, Y/n was different. Alastor didn't know what to do so, he did nothing. He avoided her like the plague and when he couldn't, he practically ignored her, barley spared her a word.

Alastor was untethered, completely in the dark and so, he did what everyone does when they feel like that: he went to talk to his best friend. When he had gotten back to the hotel after his rather illuminating little chat with Rosie, Charlie had asked him if he had seen Y/n. It felt like divine chance, a cruel joke of fate, that the demon Princess would bring up the very source of his problems so soon after having at last pushed past his pride to ask for help.

When he had revealed the truth to the gang, that no, he had not in fact seen Y/n, they seemed deflated. There had been some sighs, some shrugs, shared glances he didn't understand and then everything had gone back to normal except, it wasn't quite normal.

Where Y/n could normally be found causing trouble, making mischief with the people who had so quickly become her friends since she had started her stay at the hotel out in the open, there was now a distinct lack of her jovial presence. She began taking her plates to her room at meals, showing up to group activities less and less, claiming she was tired or had a stomach ache. Alastor noticed every time he did manage to catch a glimpse of the marvelous and strange creature who had captured his affections so, she seemed utterly exhausted. Y/n was always bundled up, even on the warmest of days.

He wanted to go talk to her, wanted to ask her if she was okay. Alastor was worried -- genuinely worried -- about her. The only thing that stopped him from knocking every time he passed her perpetually closed door, was that he knew himself too well. He knew that the minute he entered, he'd lose his courage, that the words would become mush in his mouth.

It was pure chance, right place wrong time, that he heard it. Alastor had been following his normal routine, heading up to his radio tower for a broadcast after a group activity. Today had been Operation Navigation! As Charlie had dubbed it. She and Vaggie had built an obstacle course and everyone had a partner who was blindfolded and had to be guided through. When they got to the other end, the pairs had switched. Miraculously, Y/n had shown up to this event.

Alastor had watched her carefully, noting her sluggish movements and the way it took her a second to fully register what anyone was saying in a given moment. It was out of the ordinary and his worry only grew. He knew he was going to have to do something about it eventually but just didn't know how. Maybe it would require another visit to Rosie.

As he walked past the lobby bathroom, Alastor was pulled from his thoughts. The door was slightly ajar, sending shards of light out into the darkened hallway.

"Why isn't it working!"

Came the hushed yell of defeat. It was Y/n's voice, he'd know it anywhere. Alastor stopped walking.

"Why do I have to be..."

There was a sniff, the sound of something hitting the wall. Alastor realized it had been Y/n at the sound of fabric against the wallpaper. He could see her in his minds eye as she slid down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Why can't I just be skinny."

Y/n's words were muffled, soft and shaky.

"Why can't I just be pretty. Why do I have to be... to be..." her words were briefly broken by a sob, "why can't I just be good. I can't even fucking starve myself right. I wish..."

Alastor's body reacted before his mind could catch up, he knocked gently on the door. There was a little yelp of surprise from within, a few sniffs and some rustling fabric.

"Yeah?"

Y/n's voice trembled as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

"May I come in?"

Alastor heard the sharp intake of breath. It was too late to back down now. The silence was thick between them, it felt eternal.

"Okay." Y/n agreed at last, her voice small, and Alastor stepped into the room.

It was exactly how he had imagined it. Y/n was huddled on the floor next to the door, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms holding her shins tightly. Alastor noticed that the thick, woolen sweater she had been wearing earlier had been tossed to the side, laying haphazardly beside the sink. Y/n sniffed again, trying to smile.

"Everything okay?" she asked and Alastor fixed his eyes back on her.

Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red. Her ears lay limply around her face which was stained with tears. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, she shivered.

"No. It's not."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, not having grasped the reality of the cracked door earlier.

"I don't... what's wrong?"

"You are starving yourself." Alastor replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Fuck... I... fuck!" she buried her face in her knees, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Are you trying to die!?" Alastor asked,

He didn't mean to yell, he didn't mean to be this angry. Everything he said seemed to send shockwaves of regret through his body. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Are you... I just... are you stupid?!"

Y/n looked up at him again, her eyes wet with fresh tears.

"I-"

"You what." Alastor scoffed, "You want to be pretty?"

"I..."

"You want to be pretty so you lock yourself away? You make your friends watch as you... as you what, as you get thin? As you destroy yourself?"

She was crying now, truly crying. Alastor looked away, a hand to his head. He took a deep breath, everything was going wrong. When he looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed from a mixture of shame and hurt.

"I just..." he took another deep breath, sinking to his knees before her, "Why would you hurt yourself so badly for something as.. as shallow as your looks?"

Y/n sniffled, frantically trying to wipe away her tears.

"What, I thought you liked to watch other people's downfalls." she tried to shoot back at him but her words came out stuttering and broken through the thickly falling tears.

Y/n refused to meet Alastor's gaze. Everything was going wrong. She was horribly embarrassed, she felt like a butterfly and Alastor was the terror who had opened her chrysalis too soon. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, he wasn't supposed to see her now. He was only supposed to get the after. It was all for him, after all, wasn't it?

Except, Y/n knew the truth of the matter. Alastor had been the trigger but, these behaviors were too well engrained. She might not have known it then, but she'd been looking for an excuse all along. It was all for her, every inch of agony.

His heart dropped at her words. Was that what Y/n truly thought of him? It would make sense, it was the face he presented to the world after all. He had just thought... he had hoped... Rosie had said....

Rosie. That was the answer. She had told him to be honest, to be vulnerable no matter how terrifying such a prospect could be. She had said it was the only way they ever had the slightest chance.

Alastor reached a hand out gently, turning Y/n to look at him. Her skin was soft to the touch, the beating of her blood thrumming against his fingertips. With the utmost care he could muster in his clawed and rotten hands, Alastor wiped her tears away. He couldn't meet Y/n's eyes but heard her sniffle, watched as the flow of sorrow slowed.

"Not your downfall." he said, his words like quiet feathers falling through the air, "Never your downfall."

At last he met her trembling gaze, fear coursing hotly through him, mingling with his blood. She took a few short, stuttering breaths before bursting into tears once again. Alastor flinched slightly as her head fell forward onto his shoulder.

"But I'm not that woman!"

"Woman... what woman?"

"The one you were with at the cafe!"

"The one... Rosie?"

Y/n nodded, sniffiling slightly as she tried to calm herself down.

"You saw me with Rosie? How?"

"I went... I'd been working up all this courage and... I just wanted to talk to you and Charlie and Pen said you'd be there and... and... and I'm not Rosie!"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had been right all along, Rosie was the answer. With the air of someone who hadn't had much physical affection given to them in their life, or received any for that matter, Alastor slowly wrapped his hands around Y/n's shaking back.

"Good."

"What do you mean 'good'? She's so beautiful and she made you laugh and she's just... she's so beautiful and thin!"

"She is beautiful, and a lovely woman but, I don't want Rosie. Or anyone else for that matter."

Y/n's sobs redoubled, she began to struggle against his grip.

"Let me go! Stop lying, Alastor."

Alastor released Y/n from his grasp and she pushed herself back against the wall, utterly mortified and unable to stop. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away.

"Stop joking, it's... it's not funny."

"Who is joking? I..." Alastor took a deep breath.

Rosie had been right, it was terrifying. He hope she was right on the second part too, that it would be worth it.

"Y/n, have you seen yourself?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do you think I want to be anything else?!"

Alastor got to his feet, holding a hand out to Y/n.

"Come with me."

"No." she mumbled, scooting further away from him if it was possible.

Under another circumstance, he would have chuckled lightly, he would have found her reaction adorable. This was neither the time nor the place and so, summoning his shadows, he transported them both into the darkness of his room.

Y/n looked around, pulling herself to her feet.

"Where... where are we?"

"My room." Alastor sat down on the edge of his bed, "Come here."

Hesitantly, Y/n took a few steps forwards. Once she was in reach, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. The feeling sent sparks through his body, Alastor tried his best to ignore it. There were more important things than the pleasure of the moment. Y/n struggled against his grasp, the tips of her ears dragging slightly across his arms.

"Alastor! Let me go! I'm too heavy!"

"No, you're quite perfect actually."

"I don't want to be touched! I don't want you to... you're making me want to tear my skin off, please."

"No." his voice was firm.

"Please, just please let go of my waist at least."

To this, he relented, one of his arms falling loosely onto her lap as he held the other up, snapping his fingers. Shadow's flooded into the room, bringing with them a full length mirror. He felt Y/n tense in his grasp.

They came to a stop, setting the mirror on the ground before them. Y/n turned her head away, her eyes shut tight.

"Please stop, Alastor. This really isn't funny."

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n."

"No!"

Y/n, please."

She had never heard him say the word before. Slowly, she opened her eyes, craning her neck to look up at Alastor.

"I want you to see what I see when I look at you."

"You promise you wont be mean?" Y/n asked suspiciously after a moment.

"I pinky promise."

He had seen her do this before, with other residents of the hotel. A simple locking of pinky's was all it ever took to make a promise, to assuage her doubts, to show she cared. Y/n's eyes widened slightly. Slowly, she reached her hand out, locking her pinky with his. They shook their hands once, the way Alastor had seen her do it a thousand times before.

"Wait." Y/n said as he made to move his hand away, looking away bashfully, her cheeks a bright pink and her voice quiet, "Don't let go."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the mirror. It was terrible, she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Y/n, you are so... every inch of you is perfect." Alastor took a deep breath, the way his voice trembled not escaping Y/n's notice, "You have... amazing legs. I know everyone's all obsessed with Angel's but, he has nothing on you walking around on those sticks. You're... you're all soft curves and lace. If you were made of anything, you would be satin. You are a nymph rising from the lakes, a wild maenad in the woods. Your eyes shine like true stars, not what we have here. Did you know rabbits were always my favorite animal?"

Y/n giggled slightly, her tearstained cheeks flushed pink.

"Well they were. They still are. Your ears are just to die for, dearest."

He felt her ears twitch slightly against his back at the comment and Y/n watched through the mirror as his smile softened at it's harsh edges.

"Your grace is what the Greeks wrote about. You... Y/n, the first time I set eyes on you, I felt like I was drowning." Alastor looked away, unable to meet her eyes even through the glass, "Like you were a siren and I was nothing more than a hapless sailor at your mercy."

"But you never talk to me."

"You never talk to me!"

Y/n laughed again, smiling a gummy smile.

"I don't have to talk to you to see who you are, Y/n." Alastor continued, his hand that was in her lap turning so his palm rested gently on her thigh, "You light up any room you're in. You are charming and clever and constantly on the look out for places you can instill your special breed of controlled chaos."

Trembling, he shifted his hand in Y/n's so he held hers, raising it to his mouth. The heat of his breath on her skin drove Y/n wild, her breath hitched.

"I am glad you're not Rosie, I don't want Rosie. I don't want anyone else except for you."

Alastor planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand and Y/n's smile only grew, her tears long forgotten now as she watched Alastor's reflection.

"You are perfect. Please, don't change yourself, don't hurt yourself, trying to be something else. I'd miss you."

Slowly, he let their still clasped hands fall into Y/n's lap.

"Do you see now?"

Y/n turned back to the mirror, her head tilted slightly to one side as she hummed in consideration.

"No." she admitted, "But I think I might be able to start."

"One step at a time." Alastor rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles, "I'll be with you the whole way, if you'll have me."

He held his breath, waiting for her reply. Y/n met his eyes through the mirror, her brow furrowed.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Who is Rosie?"

Alastor could have laughed, he nearly did.

"She is a very old and dear friend. I was going to her for advice, that day."

"You? Needing advice?" Y/n paused before shaking her head, "Nah, I don't see it."

She laughed lightly at her own joke and Alastor smiled softly back at her.

"It was advice about you, actually."

Y/n turned herself in his lap, looking up at him with her legs on either side of his own.

"About me?"

"Y-yes."

He cursed himself internally. Alastor hadn't meant to stutter, she just looked too lovely sitting there and looking up at him with her pretty pink lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"I..." Alastor felt the heat rising in his own cheeks and looked away, "well, I didn't know how to approach you."

"Wait, you were avoiding me this whole time?" Y/n laughed and Alastor nodded, "I thought I was avoiding you!"

"Wait, you were avoiding me?"

His gaze snapped back to hers and she laughed again.

"Yes! I was terrified to speak to you! You're so cool and hot and just... I'm not good at things like this!"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Is that all you got out of what I said?"

"Maybe."

They both laughed this time. Alastor's chest felt lighter than it hand in years.

"So," he began once they had both calmed down, "is that a yes?"

"To what?"

"To letting me... be... with you."

Y/n smiled, reaching a hand up to his cheek.

"That's a 'will you be with me?' I think actually."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170

A/N Y'all, there were one or two times I almost wrote my name while doing this one. I've been writing x reader fics for eight years, this never happens to me anymore. I think I related a little too hard. I am x reader fic writing too close to the sun.

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luveline · 1 year

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hi jade!! can i request something with the marauders (platonic or romantic) maybe reader has been real stressed with work or school and the marauders try to get her to relax once they realize how stressed she actually is?? ty! u don’t have to do this, it’s just a thought :))

thank you for your request my love, nearly romantic poly!marauders x fem!reader

James notices first, surprisingly. While Sirius is fluent in what goes unsaid, and Remus is more than familiar with stress, it's James who has learned to read his sometimes sulky friends, and so it's James who knows that your tight shoulders and your half-hearted smile are from more than being tired.

He doesn't want to announce your potential upset upset the world, so he waits for Remus to get a drink while Sirius is in the loo and slides down the sofa toward you until you're sitting thigh to thigh. He doesn't ever want much space from you. He's fortunate that you feel the same.

"What, James?" you ask, leaning on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, solemn, so you know he's serious.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You just seem unhappy tonight, is all. You know you can tell me. Or if you don't want to tell me, you can tell one of the boys."

Because you and your friends are in an incredibly weird (not weird, really, unexpected, but so full of love and sweetness that weird doesn't apply) situation in which you aren't dating anyone but it feels like you are. James imagines it as a sort of precipice, where you might choose one of them, or, in what seems the more unique but better fit, you might not choose at all.

James only knows you feel the same way about them as they do about you because you'd confessed to Remus how guilty you feel for stringing them along. He reported back, and is quoted by himself to have said, Well, we must be stringing you along too. While I string James along, and Sirius strings me.

So everybody fancies everybody and nobody knows what to do about it. (Well, apart from that one kiss between James and Remus, which went exceptionally well. James had known what to do about that). For tonight, nothing has to be done. All James needs to do is figure out how to make you feel better.

Remus is offended at having had his seat stolen when he returns, but then he sees your sad face slack on James' big shoulder and forgets to be annoyed. Crouching down in front of you, Remus tilts his head to the side to align his face to yours, a frown mirrored on his lips as he asks, "What's wrong, dove?"

The way he says it makes James pleased, and it also makes him like Remus impossibly more. James is earnest and ardent in wanting to comfort you, but Remus is very, very good at it. He has this seriousness, no-nonsense tone wrapped in a soft affection that could draw out James' very worst secrets. It's no surprise when you crack clean in two and confess.

"I'm really stressed out." Your voice takes a horrible dive, like you might cry. "Um, work is just hard, and I'm worried about money, too."

James doesn't suppose you're in the depth of a relationship where it's appropriate to offer to bankroll you, and it's not what you want anyhow. He bites back any affluent admission in favour of a subtler approach.

"You're worried about money?" he asks, gently as he can. "You aren't going without, are you? I really hope you'd tell us if it were bad."

You shake your head. "I'm not going without. Don't worry, it's not that bad." But it could be, goes unsaid.

Remus hums, his hand on your knee. "You know we care about you. Please, don't not tell us if you need something, okay?" His hand climbs the stretch of your thigh. "What's worrying you, dove? With work, are they giving you a hard time again?"

Sirius returns somewhere in the midst of your talking, and he's absolutely horrified when a single tear bounds down your cheek. He squeezes between you and the armrest of the sofa to wipe your face as it comes, his weight almost entirely on top of you, so close that his hair tickles your cheek and neck. "Don't cry. I promise not to leave you alone with these two ever again," he jokes, though the tenderness with which he holds your face is nothing but sincere.

James, sick of being the only one not comforting you physically, finds one of your hands to hold. It's smaller, and warm, and he pulls it to his chest as though that might hide you away from all the things that are freaking you out.

To no one's shock, the boys are good listeners. Not always to each other, but what one lacks another can make up, and they manage to pull out from you your pack of troubles one by one. When that's done, they assuage each accompanying fear.

If the very worst happens, you'll always have them to lean on.

That makes you cry more than the stress. Grateful —though the last thing they're comforting you for is gratitude— you needle your arms around Sirius' waist and hide your face in his chest. He frowns down at you as he wraps you up tightly. James doesn't even feel jealous. Well, mostly, until Sirius kisses your forehead and James can actually see your happy shudder. Lucky for him, you aren't done. You squeeze Sirius before pulling away and turning to James. He realises then what made Sirius so bold, your whispered thank you like a vibration through his chest. He pats your back.

"That's alright," he murmurs.

You nod and squeeze and move on to Remus, who's been sitting at your feet for the last twenty minutes while you cry, concerned but not complaining. He's eager even if he won't say that, climbing to his feet so he can reach down for you and receive his own hug. James is a ridiculous romantic, and he just aches with affection for both of you as he watches Remus nose your cheek. When Remus finally pulls away, Sirius is looking at them with the same expression.

"Do you feel better?" he asks you.

You sniffle and wipe your nose with your sleeve sheepishly. "Yes. Thank you, boys. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

James forgets restraint and swings his arm around your shoulder. "It's a good thing you'll never be without us, then," he says, and kisses your cheek.

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delafiseaseses · 1 year

Text

Y'know what I think makes Jeannie May Crawford stand out so much amongst Fallout villains? Not just the fact she's associated with Boone and one of the horrors he's dealt with, but because she's different than most other Fallout villains, big or small.

[I'm not gonna be going into the cut Ghoul bigotry in Come Fly With Me even though it supports me point, as that is, well, cut and therefore not-canonical actions. Though it is in-line with her other behaviour.]

I know why Jeannie May feels different to me. She's an advocate of Normality. What do I mean by that? Well, it's simple. Her motive for her Big Evil Action is pretty clearly the fact that Carla didn't like Novac and was overall an annoyance to her status quo. The perfection of her town. Her "little desert oasis". Jeannie May is basically the leader of Novac. She owns the Dino-Dee Lite and by extension the entire town. To her badmouthing Novac is badmouthing her and that is a crime she cannot stand. No punishment is too great. Carla and her unborn child deserve to suffer, in her mind. She knows what the Legion do to women, but she didn't care.

But it doesn't just stop there. That's the thing. She doesn't just hate people disliking Novac. Jeannie May also resents the idea of people not being very social as Alice McBride says this "Oh, we keep to ourselves, for the most part. Try not to pry. I think Jeannie May gets bothered that we aren't more sociable, but it's just our way. Ain't that we don't appreciate what she's done, managing this town like she has, but I worry she feels that way anyhow." the McBrides were probably not at risk of the Carla-treatment, but who knows what Crawford would've done to them if she got too upset at their lack of sociability.

Oh, also, the reason she kept the document that got her killed? 500 caps. That's it. In the Bill of Sale it says "Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document." considering Jeannie May is a landlord to so many people that sum has to be nothing to her. The entire 1500 caps was nothing. But she was confident, arrogant. Nobody would discover her actions. Boone's suspicions wouldn't go anywhere (and he'd never suspect her). It was her town and she was safe in it. Everyone was unable to see past her act (except No-Bark if you believe that one thing he says is an indication he knows something is off about her).

Of course, when you're so confident that you'll never be caught, the thought never enters your mind anyone will find out. The only thing that enters your mind is... a .308 round.

#fallout #new vegas #fallout new vegas #jeannie may crawford #novac

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years

Note

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them.

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure.

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you.

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face.

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you.

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back.

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes.

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside.

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip.

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it.

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground.

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons.

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen.

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground.

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front.

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins.

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse.

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse.

It’s there.

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head.

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this.

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand.

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound.

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now.

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention.

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering.

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt.

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain.

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand.

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders.

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin.

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving.

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you.

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths.

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in.

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings.

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin.

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you.

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.”

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?”

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake.

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly.

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing.

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head.

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you.

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him.

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no.

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening.

He was having a nightmare.

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him.

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms.

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying.

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face.

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.”

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out.

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance.

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases.

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check.

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him.

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart.

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him.

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.”

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him.

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.”

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear.

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually.

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate.

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table.

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach.

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him.

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both.

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying.

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her.

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen.

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms.

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.”

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer.

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you.

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers.

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed.

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing.

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers.

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds.

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much.

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.”

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling.

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Ready for me darlin’?”

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you.

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips.

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier.

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets.

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass.

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed.

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close.

“I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face.

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you.

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jo-harrington · 10 months

Text

Promotion (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a Tuesday night off to surprise Eddie at a Corroded Coffin show and you both get more than you bargained for.

Previous Part: Team Building

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (Do I need to say this anymore?) Fluffy, a little angsty, culmination of a lot of big feelings on both Eddie and Readers parts.

Note: I have been working on this part. Since January 15th. This has always been (and if you've read Peak Sales Hours you know) the way they finally reveal their feelings for one another. DAMN TOOK THEM AND ME A REALLY LONG TIME. The idea has evolved a little, but I hope the wait has been worth it. (Really gonna suck when we go back to the 2 parts of the story where they...aren't together yet but I promise both of those parts will be worth it and it's gonna make a few things towards the end of this part make sense...) We're almost at the end.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories and writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“Nice fake, kid,” the gruff bartender scoffed, taking a quick glance over your ID. “Illinois huh?”

“Yeah, Illinois,” you insisted. “And it’s not a fake.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Enough of you kids home from college, I can’t keep up. In for a penny, in for a pound. What can I getcha?”

You ordered then turned to survey the ambience of The Hideout.

Bars weren't typically your scene.

You really didn't have a scene, if you were honest. Work and school had been your life for the longest time. If you had a social life, it was garage beers with your friends back home, or going out with coworkers after a really difficult holiday season or something. Your old Store Manager had certainly forced you to join her at dive bars and parties now and again. And now, you guessed...outings with Eddie and his friends.

When he had first told you about Corroded Coffin and their gigs, he said that the Hideout wasn't typically busy.

"It's like...like Cheers, you know? A place where everyone knows your name," he explained that first night you two had hung out. "Off the highway, used to be the local watering hole for everyone at the plant to wet their whistle after quitting time, according to Wayne. Lately, not as much.

"But the owner lets us play every Tuesday and it's good if we want to make it big someday. Even though right now it's really just...you know, a few regulars who tolerate us and clap if they're sober enough."

This, though, was most certainly not a few regulars.

Just like the bartender had said, there were a lot of kids home from college for Thanksgiving week, looking to get away from their families for a night. They'd already been milling about StarCourt; you'd seen a lot of unfamiliar faces. You wondered if this was just a convenient place to get a drink with friends now that they were back; it wasn't like the bartender was really taking anyone's ID seriously, real or fake.

Everyone was here for a good time, regardless. An old house-turned-bar with a few tables, mostly occupied, and a pool table that a group of guys were crowded around. Only a few open spots at the bar, one of which you had claimed for yourself.

It wasn't a club, it wasn't really even a bar.

It was just...kind of a shithole.

But if you were to remove all the people who were here tonight who didn't seem to fit in anyway, you felt it was the perfect venue for Corroded Coffin.

The stage was small and makeshift and illuminated by the many neon signs on the adjacent walls touting Coors and Old Style and PBR, and even though you were a little ways back you could easily enjoy the show.

You were actually planning to hang back anyhow. You usually closed on Tuesdays so you wanted to surprise Eddie.

He had mentioned, way back during your first Sunday night hangout, that you should come and see the band if you were ever free. You had brought up your schedule to him then, and immediately felt bad when he looked a little disappointed. And even more so the dozen or more times you tried to bring up the topic again, especially as you spent more time with him and his friends. Music was something you two had quickly bonded over, so you were hoping you could come and support him. But he never took the cue and never extended the invitation again.

It took a lot of bribery to get Mindy to take the Tuesday shift, and thankfully with the impending holidays, she had some time-off needs of her own. So a little quid pro quo and you had your night off.

Not to mention a covert trip to Tape World to grab one of the flyers for the show, disguised as a run to the bathroom, when you had lunch together a few weeks ago. Eddie's manager Kyle always let him have his homemade flyers on the counter when he was Manager on Duty, but they always went home with Eddie after his shift was over.

"I just have this bad feeling," he admitted to you once. "That someone would come in just to fuck with them, you know. At least while I'm there, I can...I don't know. Protect them." You understood, having been witness to how shitty some of the people in Hawkins were to him. You had dealt with bullies before, and it had gotten better for Eddie in the past few months but...he was still cautious and you didn't blame him.

So now, sitting here in this crowded bar, sipping kind of bad beer, wearing one of your brother's band tees that must have gotten mixed up with your shit from your last visit home, and waiting for the boys to appear "on stage," you felt happy that you'd be able to show Eddie just how much you cared for him. How much you wanted to be there for him the way he'd been there for you the past 6 months.

How worth...all of it he was.

And the other boys. Of course.

Eddie was the only one you wanted to kiss though.

He was the only one you wanted to do any of those sweet, sickening...ahem...sexy...things with. You really had wanted it all since you met him, and you'd gotten your taste and that was enough to smolder and turn your craving into an actual thirst.

Unfortunately, what you'd hoped was mutual attraction...never went anywhere, so friendship it had stayed.

You could always indulge in your little crush-fueled fantasies after you hung out. As pathetic as that was. Especially when you realized he was a touchy kind of guy. Hugs at the ready whenever you wanted them and even sometimes when you didn't. Hands always grabbing your shoulders to shake you when he was trying to make a point. He'd popped the arm rest up when you went to the movies so you could put your head on his shoulder. And then he would cover your eyes with his hand whenever there was something especially gorey or steamy on the screen.

"Otherwise, I’ll have to wash your eyes out young lady," he mocked with a very stern voice to mock your overprotective father, who Eddie had met once.

And on one of the toughest days of your life when his attention had fully been on you so how he remembered your dad enough to get his voice down like that...

You shook your head to release you from your thoughts as you noticed Gareth and Jeff haul in Gareth's drum kit from some back hallway and onto the ramshackle stage.

It wouldn't do to get lost in your daydreams when they were about to perform. Because yeah, Eddie was always doing things like that-- remembering things you said off-handedly, surprising you with things he thought would make you laugh or smile--and you tried to do the same for him, but coming to see one of his performances was gonna be different.

It meant more than quoting his favorite movie or getting him that snack he liked at the gas station.

This was his dream.

And you wanted to be fully present for it.

A couple people clapped kindly as all four boys took the stage and Eddie said a quick, slightly shy "hey" into the microphone, clearly unused to the crowd. You let out a tenuous whoop, and Eddie squinted in your direction and waved, but with the haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air and the bustle of bodies that swarmed the bar to refresh their drinks, you doubted he could see who it actually came from.

So maybe you would need to worm your way up eventually. Maybe.

Once they started playing, though, you knew you would have to.

They were...

Well...

Ok they were not the best, but they were certainly getting there. They could be something great if they took the time, and you knew that was a high priority for the boys.

You didn't know what you expected though.

Certainly not like something professionally recorded or the one or two concerts you'd been to with friends over the years. Surely something closer to the bands that played during street fairs or the local venues back home.

Corroded Coffin was something in-between. Eddie's proficiency at the guitar and his overly confident stage presence once he got going, paired with Jeff and Dave who matched his energy with their endless strumming and head banging and enthusiastic vocals. And of course Gareth on the drums, who kept them in line as though he was simply amplifying the beating of his heart.

They were...one-of-a-kind.

It was a sight to behold and had you enraptured by their entire performance.

And you were surely not alone, as there was a good bit of applause after every song--none louder than you, you hoped--that caused the boys to preen with the attention. Especially Eddie, who would showboat if more than 5 people clapped.

"And now," he rumbled into the microphone, voice a little croaky, as the others set up a thrum of drumbeats and repetitive notes on their respective instruments. "Lend me your ear as I weave a tale of adventure and destruction."

You shifted on your stool with a grin, excited to see this. He'd explained it to you, how he and Jeff had been working on these little attention grabbers...stage patter...in tandem with his campaigns for Hellfire Club.

"Being a frontman is more than just singing, it's about...captivating the audience."

He told you it would make more sense once they had some more original songs and not just covers. But they were still working on it.

Thus, Eddie began talking about Lord of the Rings, of all things. Of a great journey with perilous consequences if the Fellowship were to fail, of the jaunts through Rivendell and encounters in Khazad-dûm and finally the terrible task on Mount Doom.

"And none of it would be possible without..." he started plucking at his own guitar strings, running his fingers up and down the frets, creating a haunting sound in place of a harmonica. "The Wizard."

You jumped from the stool and let out a whoop, beer sloshing over the rim of your glass and onto your hand. But it didn't matter, because when Eddie's eyes zeroed in on you, he beamed brightly and it was magical.

The moment would be burned into your brain forever, the way his big, void-like eyes got all round and soft and those lips stretched over his teeth to grin, lines carving deeper into his face in a look of sheer joy. And then glanced back down at his Sweetheart as he began to play his best performance of the night.

Or so you thought, but you were a little biased.

You were torn away from the performance as someone took the glass out of your hand and pressed some napkins over your beer-soaked skin.

"Here, watch out, you spilled some on the floor too," a deep, teasing voice said. "Jules, can you grab some more napkins?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"You Corroded Coffin's number one fan or something?" the guy asked as you kept trying to look back at the stage. You looked at him and felt uneasy. He was tall but unremarkable and had a plaid shirt under a denim jacket, a few patches similar to ones you'd seen adorned on Eddie's battle vest. He seemed like someone who might enjoy the music but there was a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth that seemed...off to you.

"First time hearing them," you tried to dismiss. "Thanks for the help."

His friend or...maybe date returned with a stack of napkins and she handed them to you with her own tight smile, latching herself to his side.

"I thought it was music time, not story time," she joked snidely as you dropped the napkins on the floor to clean up the spill. "Are we gonna get out of here soon Mick?"

"Yeah don't worry," he patted her shoulder and then looked back at you. "So, not number their one fan. You dating Munson or something then?"

Jules let out a laugh.

"None of your business, who are you again?" You put on the hard city exterior you grew up with--the one that often clashed with your tight-knit community and customer service exteriors, each an interchangeable mask—and turned away from him, glad to put some distance between you.

You asked the bartender for another beer but there was already a bitter taste in your mouth and you knew you wouldn't enjoy the drink.

Mick and Jules…

---

You were happy when everyone gave them an outstanding applause at the end of the set, but the boys were quick to dismantle the stage after a stern look from the bartender.

Eddie had tried his best to have an encore performance.

"Come on Phil." He batted his eyelashes enticingly. "You know you love us."

"This isn't Madison Square Garden," Phil ran a finger over his throat. "You'll run up my electric bill."

"Make sure you tip your bartender everyone," Eddie quickly announced with a mock salute, then pulled the plug on their equipment and dashed offstage.

Dave, Jeff, and Gareth made their way back in sometime after they broke down their equipment, as some the crowd started to dissipate, and were ecstatic to find you at the bar.

"It's seriously so busy in here," Gareth exclaimed after he chugged his Coke and belched obnoxiously. "I don't think we've played a crowd like this ever."

"I don't think we've seen this many people in the Hideout ever," Dave gave you a hopeful grin and pressed his hands together in prayer. "You sure you don't want to buy us a round of beers to celebrate?" You pushed his shoulder good-naturedly but got them a round of the cheap, watered down stuff nonetheless.

"Ok and listen, I was supposed to do the intro to The Wizard," Jeff started, hand on your shoulder as though he was telling you a secret. "But I chickened out. I don't think I would have been able to do it with all of these people here."

"You would have crushed it," you reassured him. "Next time."

"No, because Eddie destroyed it up there," Jeff hollered. "I almost forgot the chords, he was so good. You seriously need to come to Hellfire one time...or Eddie can have a special session over Christmas break. That was on par with a Munson Death Monologue, if I ever heard one. Right guys?"

"Where is he anyway?" you asked.

Instantly, all three boys got nervous and it had you on edge.

"The bathroom."

"Just having a smoke."

"Had to restring his guitar."

They fumbled over each other with their excuses.

"Don't make me pull the mom card," you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at them. "You know I hate that shit."

"Only the freshman call you mom," Dave attempted to deflect.

You rolled your eyes and simply turned on your heel and exited the bar. You heard the three of them bicker as you walked away.

"Nice cover shithead."

"Me? What about you? Restring his guitar?"

"Fuck off."

When you got out to the parking lot, you heard talking. Bickering, much like the boys had been inside.

"...I'm trying to give you a compliment."

"A backhanded compliment isn't a compliment."

Eddie's voice. And another one.

You didn't want to interfere, but you were from the midwest and as a result, you were nosy.

And Eddie was your friend, if he needed help, you'd be there for him.

You rounded the corner of the building and saw Eddie sitting in the open side door of the van, cigarette smoldering between his fingers as he gestured wildly while talking.

"I don't know why you think you can just show your face here," he told the other guy.

Mick...the guy who'd helped you out inside.

"Come on Ed," he scoffed. "This doesn't have to be painful for either of us. I moved on, so can you."

"That's right Mickey, you moved on," Eddie argued. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it aggressively. "You decided it wasn't worth it to be my friend anymore and you and Jack moved on."

Mickey and Jack. Eddie's old friends, the former members of Corroded Coffin.

He'd told you about them...in passing. You never really got the full story from him, you never wanted to pry. But seeing this guy...now...

"You decided not to be friends anymore, when we wouldn't throw our futures away for a stupid garage band! And look, two years later and you're still here? Heard my mom say you're still at Hawkins High too. Look at you, Ed. A waste of fucking space."

Well you didn't know whether to walk away or butt in and give the guy a piece of your mind.

It was a good thing that Eddie got to his feet and got right into Mickey's smug face.

"Go fuck yourself Mick." His hands planted on Mickey's shoulders and he shoved his old friend a few feet. Not to knock him down, enough to disrupt his balance though.

The aggression left Mickey then, and even from where you stood you could see his eyes go wide.

"Come on Eddie," he whined. "I didn't come out here for this. I've got friends in there and I told them I could get weed. Julie's in there."

"Julie fucking Williams," Eddie rolled his head back and let out a sardonic laugh.

You vaguely realized why Jules had sounded familiar. Jason Carver had mentioned her way back when, when he tried to play the macho protector act.

"He was sniffing around this girl Julie Williams a few years ago too..."

"She still got her claws in you?" Eddie continued. "You here to rub it in my face that you're still with her too? High School Sweethearts and all of that?"

"Stop being an asshole. I made them all come and sit through your stupid show, Eddie. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" he scoffed. "You...you're just rubbing salt in the wound now Mick. Throwing me a bone thinking I’m hard up for cash. Bringing people along cuz no one would come to our shows way back when, so now I gotta know that the only way they would, is if you bribed them with weed? And Julie? Julie only fooled around with me, dated me, so she could get closer to you and you fell for her like an idiot."

"I don't know why you care Eddie, I saw your girlfriend in there. Besides, you two were never dating. So if anyone is the idiot here, it's you."

"Fuck off, Michael," Eddie muttered, turning his back to his former friend. "If you want weed, go to Rick."

There was a beat and you watched Eddie's still back and Mickey shuffling on the gravel drive, looking simultaneously like he wanted to say something, and regretting that he even said anything in the first place.

Finally, he stalked off, hands shoved in his pockets.

You ducked against the side of the building to avoid being noticed as he passed and headed back into the Hideout.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't...yeah you were nosy, but you knew you should have probably walked away when Eddie told him to go fuck himself the first time.

Still...then no one would have been out here for Eddie now. Even after all these months of getting closer to him, months of friendship and learning more and more about him, all it took was an overheard conversation to make the pieces click. You needed to make sure he was alright because that...that hadn't been good.

He'd already been in some kind of state of constant self-deprecation when you first met him, you didn't want him to fall back into it because of some asshole. You understood now why Jeff had been so protective of him at the start. You were that way now. You wanted your friend to be happy.

To see how much he mattered. That's why you came tonight in the first place.

At the sound of something crashing in the back of the van, you shuffled back around the corner and got closer.

"Fuck," he muttered pathetically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

There was the twang of a string on one of the guitars snapping, and then Eddie's heaving breath.

"FUCK!" He turned around and kicked at the gravel, and it sprayed across the lot before landing at your feet. He ran his hands through his hair and stopped at the sight of you.

You froze too, unable to stomach the sight of his red, tear-filled eyes and the wetness of his cheeks illuminated by the streetlamp overhead.

"So uh," he sniffed and quickly ran the cuff of his sleeve across his nose. “Dunno if you heard but that was my old friend. Who's dating...well I guess she wasn’t my girlfriend. So she’s not an ex either.”

He rolled his eyes and hung his head pathetically.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry that they did that to you. Both of them. All of them. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Do I?” He scoffed. “I’m a freak, a loser. Too stupid to finish high school or get out of this town.”

“Stop it!”

"No, Mickey's right. My stupid band, my stupid friends."

"I'm your friend, am I stupid?" you asked. You knew it was a little shifty, trying to turn this onto you, but you needed him to see that he was being...well...

Stupid.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"And Jeff? And Dave? And Gareth?"

"Maybe."

"Fine," you pointed back at the Hideout. "But those people in there...they couldn't have all been Mickey's friends. They clapped for your stupid band. Are they all idiots too? Freaks. Losers."

"Maybe."

"That was a really good crowd, you were great up there. I was so surprised. So impressed."

"Well you shouldn't be."

"Eddie," you said in a chastising tone.

He mimicked you in a childlike fashion, said your name in the same tone, and then ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"I don't want to let him get to me like that," he shouted into the sky. "I don't...want my stupid, dumb, shithead old best friend to get to me like that. To act like it's some favor he's doing me by rolling back into town and bringing some people to my show. When it still should have been our show. Together.

"I had to very nearly give up on all of my fucking dreams because our friendship wasn't worth it to him. Because he pretended to grow up. He...he barely got accepted into a college. He was going to take classes at Tri County and keep working at Bradley's forever and we were gonna have this band and make it big one day and now..."

He trailed off and heaved.

"And now?" You pressed after a few minutes of silence.

"And now..." He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know...nothing I guess."

You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

"And now you have friends in there that actually support your dream, who actually believe you've got a chance as a band. Jeff's a better best friend than Mickey. And you've got a job at TapeWorld and have Kyle and the guys there. They all believe in you. What did you tell me a couple weeks ago? Kyle wants to see if he can make you an ASM after you graduate?"

"Yeah."

"You've got...a future...and new dreams...just like Mickey does," you tried again. "Losing old friends is hard. It's a hole in your heart that doesn't ever go away.

"My high school best friend moved away and I don't talk to her anymore. We had...maybe one phone call after she went off to some out-of-state school. It hurt when I tried to call her and she never made time for me. But...then I made other friends. It's not the same as her, but sometimes it's better. Because I have Jen, and the girls at the old store and now this store and now I have...now I have you too.

"You're better than my high school best friend ever was. Tell me I'm not a better friend than Mickey...whatever his last name is."

Eddie's face went gaunt then, his eyes evaded yours and immediately went down to his feet, hands wrapped around his stomach defensively, like you wounded him.

You breathed heavily for a few moments and then softened.

Maybe you went a little too hard.

"Eddie, I'm sorry, I..." You backtracked a little. "I know I don't know the whole story. I just...I want you to know how much I value you as my friend."

"Stop saying that!" He shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

"What? You need to hear it! I know it's hard to hear how good you are--"

"No," he opened his eyes and took a step back, holding his hands out beside him, as though he was offering himself up for the slaughter. "Stop saying that you're my friend."

"But I am your friend!"

"But I don't...I don't want you to be."

Your eyes went wide this time and your mind raced.

At first you just...you thought this was him saying he didn't want to be friends anymore. Maybe you'd overstepped boundaries and had gone too far. The little insidious self-conscious voice inside of your head told you that you were dumb and too stupid to realize all the signs of him pushing you away. Overanalyzing every interaction for some indication that he didn't want you there.

But then he kept talking and you realized you were dumb just not dumb in that way.

"I...I have...kind of always thought you were pretty," he let out a dry laugh. "Well...actually I thought you were awful...way, way back...at the beginning before I even knew your name. I thought...wow it's another mean popular pretty girl coming to tease me and make my life hell. Only...you didn’t. You’re not mean and you're not a popular girl."

"And I'm not pretty," you joked.

"But you are," he disagreed. "And you didn’t make my life hell. You're everything I...well...I know this is gonna ruin everything. So fuck it. But I have the biggest, stupidest crush on you and everyone fucking knows about it and won't stop teasing me about it and I thought...after that night at the trailer that maybe...you know, you felt the same way. That we were just two dummies. I got my hopes up. I was coming to ask you out that Friday. I even skipped school."

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about that night.

About that kiss and about...

"And then your grandpa..." he trailed off. "And how could I bring anything up after that? I just needed to be a good friend. Be there for you, like you're always there for me. Just like you're here for me tonight.

"Sweetheart, do you know how fucking happy I was to see you back there?" he asked, eyes big and round and wet with tears. "Shit you took a Tuesday night off?"

"Of course I did," you laughed. "I told you way back at the beginning I could move things around."

"Yeah but..."

"I get it," you nodded and then felt your heart ache with longing. "Eddie..."

"So no," he continued sadly. "I don't want to be your friend anymore because I just...want you."

He backed away a little, on weak legs as though he had been wounded. Especially when you took too long to process all of your thoughts and he probably took it as rejection. He turned back to the van to try and finish packing everything up.

And your mind finally caught up to your body.

Eddie liked you and he wanted to...not be your friend anymore because he wanted more than friendship.

Right? Was that it?

Fuck, why had you been so...

You walked right up to him and grabbed him by the sleeve and turned him around.

"If you're an idiot," you told him, vulnerably. "Then so am I."

You surged forward and captured his lips with yours.

It was...admittedly not like a John Hughes movie. It was sweet for a second and your heart was soaring and then his nose bonked into yours and you both broke into a little bit of laughter.

"You're not that good at kissing," Eddie teased.

"Me?" you guffawed. "It was your nose."

"Maybe we're just both out of practice," he suggested.

"Yeah." You reached out and shook him by his vest. "One uh...maybe extra high kiss on your couch two months ago is not the warmup we needed."

He smiled at you.

"Hi."

"Are we both just...stupid?"

"Yeah I think so."

"How long has Mindy been mocking you?" he asked.

"Pretty much since Day 1. Kyle?"

"Before Day 1," he ran a hand through his hair and blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. "He was the one who told me I should go up and ask you out."

"No he didn't!" You slapped a hand against his chest and stared at him incredulously.

"Scouts honor." He crossed over his heart. "So uh...you wanna try again?"

Eddie waited for your little nod before he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands sought your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flush with his as your hands became trapped on his chest. You grabbed him by the vest and held him to you.

It was sweet exploration at first, lips tentative and pliant. Then tongues got involved, painting your tastes sweetly to the seams of each other's mouth, taking turns until they gained the courage to dance together.

Before long though...you both got a little impatient and you were pressed up against the side of his van, one hand in his hair as he kissed down the side of your throat, fingers plucking at the neckline of your t-shirt to gain more access to skin.

"Didn't know you liked Pantera," he muttered and licked back up the length of your throat then lightly bit the softness of your jaw. "S'this Jimmy's shirt?"

"Please don't say my brother's name right now."

You gently pulled him by the hair and led him right back to your lips to shut him up.

Sweetness turned into impatience, where 6 months of friendship and unrequited feelings were released--for real this time. Eddie's body slotted between your legs, hands roamed, giggles turned into moans, and just as he was about to scoot you into the van for some private time away from the elements of the Hideout Parking lot--

"Whooo..."

"Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree..."

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

--the guys exited the bar and found you in your...compromising position.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, made sure your shirt was on the right way and your hair not...too disheveled before turning to shoot his friends with the most scathing glare.

"Alright you fucking pervs," he shouted. "Nothing to see here."

"Are you kidding?" Dave exclaimed. "This is like...Christmas."

"Yeah, about time Eddie," Jeff clapped a hand on Gareth and Dave's shoulders. "We were about to start a bet to see if it was even gonna happen."

"It was Wheeler's idea," Gareth confessed.

"Of course it was," Eddie rolled his eyes. "Little rat."

"Mike's nice," you poked Eddie in the side and he jumped. "Stop picking on him so much."

The guys all started their whooping and hollering again until you sent your own dead stare their way to shut them up.

Eddie shouted for them all to pile into the van, and once they were all inside he turned to you and awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"So," he ran his tongue over his lips nervously. "Uh...I mean...that was nice."

"It was," you beamed. "Changed your mind about if I'm a bad kisser?"

"Yeah, oh," he nodded vigorously. "I...yes...I mean, no. You're a really...good kisser."

"Not so bad yourself Casanova."

"So we gonna...do that more often?"

You both burst out laughing and then jumped as someone inside the van honked the horn.

"You wanna come to Benny's with us?" Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. "Post-show patty melts? Kind of a tradition."

"Yeah. I'd love to."

"Kay, we'll see you there then."

"Sure."

He was about to back away and head towards the driver side of the van, and you back to the front lot to get into your car, when he swept in and cupped your face with his hands. Thumbs running gently over cheekbones, lips gently ghosting over yours.

And you couldn't help but think as you covered his hands with yours, this was definitely a perk you were going to take advantage of in this...

Relationship?

...promotion from friend to something more.

---

Next Part: Peak Sales Hours

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson headcanon #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #store manager verse

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portellini · 19 days

Note

If your requests are open, then can I request Illumi Zoldyck's Fluff alphabets A-Z?

Illumi Zoldyck - A, F, G, N,

HEYO!! Istg I haven't been ghosting requests I didn't know about them until recently cuz I'm stupid. I haven't done alphabets before so ima just do four letters for now that I took at random!

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Affection - How do they show their affection? For Illumi I wouldn't find him too affectionate. He'd make sure you're taken care of and will provide the type of comfort he knows. He'd make sure the butlers are treating you right, and that you're eating your meals, and since he's gone most of the time with missions, you'll have his full attention when he's with you. (MF's an assassin I don't think he was shown normal affection tbh)

Freedom - How controlling are they? Do they need to know where you are 24/7? Erm, none. No freedom. If you're a struggle he'd put a pin in your head like he did with Killua… However, If the relationship is stable and compliant, he wouldn't be as controlling. No more of him stalking you whenever you leave the mountain (you're now allowed to leave the mountain), no more constant GPS trackers (any that you're aware of), and he's more relaxed with letting you get close to the butlers and employees that populate the Zoldyck estate (Though he might replace anyone who gets too friendly).

Gifts - What type of gifts do they give? Or do they give gifts at all? Illumi is not short of money. He's closer to being a good brother than broke. Anyhow, the issue is that he's not the type to give thoughtful gifts on a whim. He already is attentive to any need you have and provides you with everything, he doesn't see the need for gifts. If you are consistent with vocalizing your want for something, then he is more than likely to surprise you with it as he starts to think you need it with how frequently you talk about it. (Ask for anything and you shall receive it) As for him, he'd rather have your full devotion and loyalty over any gift. It's hard to get him a gift anyway with how often he keeps you on the mountain.

Never - What would they never do to their S/O no matter the circumstances? … Tbh, I think he'd only never kill you. If he had chosen you as his partner he'd make sure you stay with him any means necessary. He's not a healthy or good person at all soo. Yeah. I suppose a more lighthearted never is he wouldn't let you leave the Zoldyck estate for more than two days on your own with a butler. He'd never let you leave the estate on your own. If you want to leave for longer periods, Illumi would need to be with you.

Hope this was worthy of your daydreams!

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#fanfic #newwriter #fluff headcanons #fluff prompts #fluff alphabet #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi headcanons #hxh illumi #illumi fluff #illumi zoldyck fluff #hxh fluff #hxh x reader fluff #hxh x reader #hxh x you #alphabet prompt

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thefandomenchantress · 6 days

Text

(Sorry for not just answering this in the comments, I had a feeling I was gonna go over the word limit (I was correct haha) and figured maybe I should just make a post about it).

Spoilers for Chapter Two Episode 13!

I'll be honest...I am very scared for Ace right now. A lot of his trial behavior is kinda suspicious if you squint, but then again, he's Ace, so he's always going to be hastily throwing around suspicion and be generally incompetent when it comes to solving the murder. And after watching all of chapter two...I just can't accept that it's him.

Now, it's fair to say that's just favoritism on my part. After all, I'm willingly to make a lot of stretches to keep on believing in my Eden's The Culprit agenda. And...Yeah, true, you are kinda right. Even if I was in a scenario where I couldn't find a single objective reason for him not to be the culprit, I still wouldn't be able to accept it was him until he was executed.

But I can't help but think I do have at least a little evidence to prove Ace isn't the culprit.

I actually made a post a while back about the Ace culprit theory, and how I don't think it works. And I'm going to reiterate a point I made there, since I'm not sure if I conveyed what I meant all that clearly.

This is about the tape.

Yes, yes, I know. Everything's about the tape these days, but I still think it's important!! After all, the grippy tape was used in the murder mechanism, and disappeared while only Ace, Eden, and Teruko were in the room. Meaning one of them has to be the one connected to the murder, (meaning they are at the very least an accomplice).

Teruko and Eden both technically could've taken it, Eden much more so than Teruko, but this isn't about them, so I'll skip that. I'm sure you've heard stuff about that before somewhere, anyhow.

Let's get to the main point:

Could Ace have taken the tape?

Okay, okay, fine, real answer time. In my opinion? It doesn't make much sense to me. After all, if Ace took the tape, we have two options:

Ace was planning to murder someone and already had a plan in mind when he took the tape, knowing he'd need it for a mechanism.

Ace didn't have a plan in mind and wanted to murder Nico when he took the tape.

Now, let's take those one at a time so I can tell you why I don't buy them.

Let's start with option one.

Ace knew he was going to murder someone with the tape down the line and took it.

Now, let's put this into perspective for a moment. Ace is actively being murdered. Even if we assume that Nico is not the true person behind Ace's almost-death, we can assume that someone was cutting Ace's neck open before this. And if Ace was conscious, he wouldn't wait for them or anyone else who can take advantage of his weakened state to come back. So Ace must be unconscious at least until Teruko and Eden make Nico run away.

That means the only time Ace can be having even sort of coherent thoughts is in the minute or so Teruko is investigating his body. He is actively bleeding out, someone just tried to murder him, and everything has gone to shit. On top of it all, he's a character who's usually rather impulsive.

And in order for him to have known he'd need the tape for his new murder plan, he'd need to have thought of a whole murder mechanism scheme while under those conditions. Seems a little iffy, but let's assume, for the sake of this post, he's secretly a murder-plan-making genius! So of course he easily thought of that entire extremely complex murder plan that far in advance!

That means Ace has a plan when he manages to get the strength to stand up. He knows he needs the tape, so he grabs it, while knocking Eden over and shouting in hopes it will distract them enough to not notice he took it (Let's also ignore that Teruko is watching him this whole time and probably would've noticed him taking it). He then pretends he's going to go kill Nico immediately, while secretly plotting to kill them or someone else in the future.

But if Ace isn't planning to murder Nico immediately like he says, then why is he so insistent on it? Non-culprit!Ace readings make this easily understandable; Ace's emotions are running high from the murder attempt and he's running off to find Nico because he's angry and thinks they tried to kill him. However, if Ace doesn't actually want to kill Nico, why does he bother putting on such a big act pretending he does?

If this is an act, color me impressed. Ace has, in the past, shown himself to be a pretty terrible liar who is also not very good at keeping secrets. So him being able to pull this off while bleeding out...Yeah, he definitely deserves an Oscar, haha. Because he really sells it. He's banging on Nico's door, yelling in a very aggressive and convincing manner, and tells Levi he is going to murder Nico almost nonchalantly. If this scene was later revealed to all be an elaborate 4D-chess move by Ace, I would be super surprised.

And none of it is even that necessary if it is an act. Ace could've stomped out of the room without telling them he was going to kill Nico if he wanted to, it's not like it was necessary for his plan. After all, if he was planning a murder, why would he purposely prove that he would be willingly to commit one? It's way better to play into his scaredy-cat tendencies here, instead, if he's trying not to gain suspicion. Like, imagine:

Eden: O-oh my god! Ace, are you alright?!? Y-you're bleeding a lot, let's go to the infirma--

Ace: Get the fuck away from me! I'm not trusting any of you fuckers to get anywhere near me! I was totally right to not trust any of you in the first place, you're all gonna try some shit like this eventually! You probably think that now's the perfect time to strangle me while pretending to help, huh?! Well, too bad! I can do it myself.

(Cue Ace getting the fuck out of there before they can realize he took the tape).

I mean, why would he possibly think that pretending he's going to murder Nico while secretly planning another murder is a good idea?! Even if people don't connect the tape to him, they're going to think that he's completely capable of an act like that if he's desperate enough. If he hadn't done this, his classmates might've kept on thinking he was too much of a scaredy-cat to seriously consider hurting anyone, which would help his chances of winning the trial.

You could say he did it to disguise the fact that he had a plan to murder someone later. No one would suspect that he was planning to murder someone later if he pretended to try to murder someone now. But no one was accusing him of plotting anything in the first place? So I really don't see how it's necessary. Better to play it safe than to risk actually running into Nico when he doesn't actually plan to harm them. His little charade can only go so far. The only way this even sort of benefits him is if in the trial, people say maybe he was plotting something, and he can refute with his reckless behavior here. But, uh...Would it really be realistic to say Ace, of all people, thought that far ahead and meticulously planned out every detail in the mere moments he woke up from the turpentine? I don't know, seems like a little bit of a stretch to me.

Let's remind ourselves that, in this scenario, Ace is most likely scared for his life. He is scared someone else is going to murder him now that Nico tried, and that is why he is planning a murder now. In that case, I think the most important thing is that Ace's primary emotion is that moment is fear. Which he doesn't have a very good track record of hiding. When Ace is scared, you will know. So if Ace was scared and planning a murder in result during that moment, I don't think he'd have masked it as well as he did. Ace doesn't seem scared, just angry. Because he hates that, in his eyes, Nico was able to make him vulnerable like this.

I just...Don't think the dialog of Ace in the hallway scene after his almost-death would work as well if he was secretly not trying to murder Nico and only refusing help from the others because he was planning a different murder, and not because of his own character flaws. None of his lines seem disingenuous in the slightest to me. Which is weird, considering all the other times Ace has lied, it's pretty easy to tell.

In short, I simply don't understand why Ace would do the things he did if he was just secretly planning to murder someone. To me, his behavior makes much more sense if he's actually blinded by rage instead of secretly planning something super smart and complex.

...Alright, let's move on to scenario two.

Ace was actually planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, but plans change, and he uses the tape for murdering Arei instead.

Unsurprisingly, I don't buy this either.

If Ace really did plan to murder Nico in this moment and was admitting it full-heartedly, with no qualms about getting caught, why would he hide that he took the tape? He tells Levi he's going to murder Nico upfront, so obviously he doesn't care that they know what he's doing.

In that case, he wouldn't have stealthily picked up the tape while Teruko wasn't looking and put it in his pocket immediately (Both of Ace's hands are seen in his sprites, so it's not like he was just holding it in his hand, if he did take the tape he took it as quickly and unnoticeably as possible, hid it somewhere on his person, then didn't mention it).

If he's planning to murder Nico and hasn't thought about what happens afterwards, or knows he will be executed and still doesn't care, then it's not like he has anything he's going to do with the tape after he murders Nico. Meaning the only reason he would take it, is if it had something to do with murdering Nico.

And in that case, Ace doesn't care about how much the others know when it comes to how he does the murder. So he wouldn't be shy about admitting he was going to use the tape to uh...Idk, strangle Nico? Or restrain them? I don't even really know how he would use only grippy tape to murder them anyways. It's not like he'd use it to put over their mouth to keep them quiet, he's shouting threats to them in the middle of the hallway for everyone to hear. He could not give less of a fuck about who knows Nico is in danger.

Ace has literally no reason to be secretive about taking the tape in this scenario. The only way it would work is if Teruko and Eden just so happened to not notice even though Ace wasn't bothering to be subtle, which is...Kinda weird, since Teruko's usually pretty damn observant.

Plus, Ace has a lot of blood on his hands during the gym waking-up scene, but maybe he managed to get the tape in his pocket before any blood could get on it? Since there wasn't as much on his hands before he woke up? Idk, possibly still notable.

To summarize this whole section a bit, if Ace was planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, he'd have little reason to take it and no reason to take it sneakily. If he was secretly planning another murder, it's hard to justify why he pretends he wants to murder Nico in the first place, or how he even thought up his murder plan so quickly and under such intense circumstances. And since Teruko was presumably looking at Ace the whole time, Ace would have a hard time even picking up the tape in the first place without Teruko noticing.

(I've also seen people say that if Teruko and Ace can't 100% confirm each other's witness testimony about the other not taking it while Eden was on the ground, you can't really prove who took it in the trial).

...So that's it with the tape, I think. All in all, I don't think Ace taking it makes much sense, or at least not as much sense as Eden does.

That's my main reason for being doubtful of Ace being the culprit, but I guess there's maybe some other things I could mention...

Ace is supposed to be the Mondo of the Chihiro-Mondo = Nico-Ace murder situation.

This can be seen by how the almost-murder takes place in the gym, and how Ace is the one who wants to be strong despite feeling deep down that he is weak. He's also the one who is afraid of getting hit by cars, and the one who's friend mysteriously died...

Yeah, I'm willing to bet Ace's friend being dead and Ace weirdly mentioning being afraid of cars hitting him in chapter 1 probably means his friend met a similar fate to Mondo's brother. Except without all the biker gang stuff, haha.

Which, uh, isn't good if we're trying to make Ace not the culprit, since that secret was one of the major reasons Mondo killed and all that. And I was worried about that...Until Ace just sorta brought Taylor up unprompted in the middle of trial. Like, if that was a big, personal, secret reason for why he murdered Arei, not sure why he would just randomly bring it up now when the DRDTdev could just--Have him talk about it later, when he's the culprit. And if we assume Ace thought that Taylor dying was his secret and killed so that secret wouldn't get out, then that wouldn't make sense, since Ace brings it up in conversation without hesitating. Even Ace wouldn't kill for a secret and then blab about it only a day later. So I doubt Taylor's death is going to play any sort of role in Ace's motive to murder.

(Unlike Eden, who's secret does include someone she was close to and probably regrets not being honest with when it came to her feelings and--okay okay fine I'll shut up now sorry--).

Plus, Ace having Mondo parallels doesn't mean he has to be the culprit. Nico wasn't the victim just because they had Chihiro parallels, so the same can be true for Ace. It does make him a little more suspicious, though, sadly.

Also...

I wonder how this would pay off if Ace died? I immediately assumed that oh, Levi will die, and Ace will realize that this statement was not true. But it could go in way more directions than that.

This line has to be pretty damn important if it got the bold yellow letter treatment. That statement is going to affect Ace or Levi (or both) in a very major way.

If Ace dies, then...I guess I'm not sure if that statement would affect Levi as much without Ace being there. Levi has already said that he would not care if Ace died. It would simply be as if he never knew him, like he was a stranger. And I guess, in my mind, it makes a lot more sense if Ace is a living embodiment of what he said to Levi than him just being gone.

I mean, imagine if Levi threatened Ace and then Ace was the culprit in chapter 1. Levi would not care nearly as much about what he said, because everyone thinks Ace did a bad thing by framing Teruko and not admitting to the class that he murdered Xander, even if it was with good intentions.

Now imagine that Ace is the culprit of chapter two. He murdered Arei with not-good intentions, framed Eden, and never admitted he did it until the bitter end. No one liked Ace before, and they certainly don't like him now. He took advantage of Arei's trust in Eden and for that no one will forgive him. Ace was not a good person, and most of Levi's classmates will reinforce this. So if Ace wanted Levi to die, it doesn't matter, right? Levi tried his best to help him, and he failed, but he tried his best, like Eden said.

What I'm trying to say is that if Ace dies here, I'm not sure how one would make it so that this line really resonates with Levi enough to make a significant enough impact on him that it's highlighted. If Ace is gone and made out to be a no-good murderer by the killing game system they're trapped in, and no one thought Ace was a good person as is, Levi wouldn't put stock in Ace's opinion nearly as much as he would, say, Eden's. Ace was a bully and a murderer, so his opinion doesn't matter, right? I doubt anyone else in the killing game will disagree, so I'm guessing none of them will be ecstatic to defend Ace's honor if Levi asks anyone about it in chapter three.

Long story short, this line makes a lot more sense to me if both Levi and Ace survive trial two (Or I guess if Levi gets executed because of that 'all murderers must pay for their crimes' rule but still).

Other than that, a few other points that make Ace being the culprit less likely are that we have no evidence of Ace knowing about where to find Hu and Teruko's old clothes and that sort of thing. Then there's the spelling mistake I don't think Ace would make given how he acts in the investigation and trial, as I said in another post (Would they really make a point to have Ace of all people correct Teruko's language twice only to have a sticking point be that a word was misspelled in a letter he wrote?).

Plus there's the fact that, allegedly, the culprit made the time ambiguous so that no one would know they did the murder at AM not PM, and Ace didn't have an alibi for either time slot. It'd be weird to do that and then not get yourself an alibi for the fake PM murder time. If the culprit didn't do that on purpose, then I guess they just got really, really lucky when no one found the small piece saying pm or am. Like, that's a smaller piece, so it's not surprising no one found it, but it being such a small piece of the note makes it look like it was ripped out purposefully.

Honestly, the only thing I'd sort of like about Ace culprit theory is that it would confirm Ace writes all fancy and nice, haha. Which would be a really funny subversion of expectations, but not funny enough for me to not be sad he's the culprit and is going to die.

Another thing I've seen floating around is that if the culprit really did copy/reuse the Nico-Ace murder contraption, they would need to know how it works. And if Ace was in the gym that night, that would mean he knows how it works and would be able to replicate it!

But this entire time, we've gone under the assumption that Nico (or whoever almost-murdered Ace) knocked Ace out with the turpentine, and that's why they stole it. Ace is pretty strong physically, so someone needing to knock him out to overpower him isn't too unbelievable. And in that case, Ace wouldn't have gotten much of a chance to look at the crime scene, since he was unconscious for the whole murder attempt. The only time we saw him awake was in the time he woke up bleeding out. And seeing as Ace isn't exactly the brightest, I doubt he could've just looked around while actively dying and immediately have known exactly what was up and how he almost got murdered. And on top of all that, if he was secretly planning a murder, he'd have been focusing on his whole pretending-to-want-to-kill-Nico thing, too, further dividing his attention. Whoever set up the mechanism or saw it for a longer period of time without bleeding out, probably would've had a better shot at knowing how the mechanism worked.

Oh, and before I go: I've mentioned this before, but "All That Glitters" and "A Good Person" aren't really themes that I think would suit Ace as a culprit. After all, they mean 'not as good as it seems' and 'being a good person'. Unlike some other characters, Ace hasn't had any involvement in the Good Person dilemma except telling Levi he's not one. And I don't think anyone thought Ace was 'good' in the first place, let alone not as good as he seems.

I could probably go more in-depth...But I'm tired so short, straightforward theme explanation it is, haha.

I...Think that's all? Honestly, I might be able to think of more reasons in the future...But for now, I think I'm done. I refuse to accept the culprit is Ace, so I'm just trying to point out any evidence I can that it's not him. My heart wouldn't be able to take it...

Still, I don't judge anyone who does buy the ace culprit theory, I just don't buy it personally. So there's the answer you were probably looking for, in way less words, haha.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #ace markey #theory #answering inbox message thingys #kinda

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professional-yapper · 9 months

Text

Moron.

Aonung x Reader

(cus I kind of liked the enemies thing I had going with aonung in the Lo'ak piece)

Aonung is the biggest moron you know. You can say that with total confidence, and do. Often.

Sometimes to his face, sometimes to others, sometimes to the back of his head as he turns away, thinking he's won an argument. You revel in the way his ears flick back to catch what you shout at him, and the way his broad frame swings around to come after you again, which is usually your sign to take off running.

It's your normal. Yours and his.

He can always rely on you to bring him crashing back down to earth when he's done something noteworthy.

And you can always rely on him to attempt to beat the shit out of you at any given moment, with the slightest provocation.

It's not like you can't hold your own. Sure, you're not equal to him in build or height, but you're a pretty good fighter, if you do say so yourself.

And it's not like anyone stops you two from scrapping, anyway. His dad practically encourages it, says it's healthy. His mum just rolls her eyes with fond exasperation and looks in the other direction.

Yeah. It's been this way for as long as you can remember. Right from day one, his mum says. You were born within a week of each other, and used to have the most vile screaming competitions as babies. It's nice to see some things never change, you guess.

Until they do start changing.

You and Aonung can't stay angry little kids permanently at each others' throats forever. Well, you can't stay kids forever, anyway.

He's getting taller, broader, thick in the arm and in the head. He doesn't spend as much time with Tsireya anymore, something she laments about to you in private.

Ah, yes, that's another sore spot for Aonung. Tsireya adores you. Maybe it's just the allure of the older kid, though not by much. You're only a year or so apart, but you've always felt the age gap even if it wasn't much. She's always been Aonung's cute kid sister, left to wail at you to stop fighting from afar for always.

You've only grown closer to Tsireya as of late, bonding over boys and girls, and going for walks on the shore to see what the tide washes in.

And of course, talking about Aonung. Well, it's mostly you talking- well, complaining, while she sits with a weird look on her face. You guess it's because he is her brother after all, and he's nice to her.

He starts hanging out with some new guys, all equally as moronic as him. They feed off each others' stupidity like a bunch of little vampires.

Which, of course, has nothing to do with you. After all, you're finding new friends too. Guys, girls, people you've never spoken to before on account of being constantly at odds with Aonung, which, believe it or not, doesn't leave a hell of a lot of time for socialising.

But you're both growing up now, growing apart, growing more mature... Well, in most ways. You still come to blows, though less frequently by the day. You find yourself missing the familiarity of it, even if you hate him.

You find yourself chasing the high that came with fighting with him, the high of having blood coursing down your face and not knowing who's, the sting of a cut, the ache of limbs, and the throbbing of bruises left behind.

Yeah, as many friends as you're making, you're making a few enemies too. You're just naturally volatile, you explain, you can't help the fact that your first instinct was to shove the guy when he accidentally bumped into you. You still think it was on purpose, anyhow.

However, you'd expect your friends to be the ones pulling you off the unfortunate kids who have fallen victim to your temper and ache for the high that no longer comes so easily or so often.

But they're not.

That's the weird part, the part that annoys you.

It's always Aonung dragging you off. You don't even know how he's always there when you're getting into a fight. He's got new friends, a new group, new hobbies, new responsibilities as future chief and warrior, basically a whole new life that has nothing to do with you.

But, regardless, it is always him hauling you off, no matter when or where. You've come to expect it like you once expected his fist flying at your face. A heavy hand on the back of your neck, an arm around your waist, fingers locking around your tail. Plucking you off whoever you're fighting like you weigh nothing. Which doesn't help your temper.

At all.

Today is one of those times. You couldn't help it, you honestly couldn't. They shoved you first this time. A rarity, you'll admit, but it's all you need to get on your little high horse and plead that you were unfairly provoked.

You're rolling back and forth with them on the ground, their hand fisted in your hair, your legs locked around their waist, both of you hissing in each others' faces like cut hoses. You're dusty and sweaty and bruised and bleeding in at least half a dozen places, and this is the best you've felt in months.

You roll your tongue over your fangs, the taste of blood raw and blunt in your mouth, taking a brief respite as you manage to pin them down for more than half a second, your knee pressing cruelly into their arm. They squeal like a stuck ilu, grabbing at you with their free hand, nails dragging down your side. The stinging sensation is welcome.

What isn't welcome is the sudden intrusion into your rather bloody bliss. Hands hooking under your arms, lifting you clear like a misbehaving pet, and setting you down on your feet with a bump that sends ground shock rippling up your calves.

You stare defiantly into Aonung's cold face, planting your hands on your hips, blood trickling down your forehead and beading on your lashes, but you don't blink it away. You take in a dusty, ragged breath, preparing to start shouting at him for always meddling in your shit, because, after all, he chose to push you out of his life and what you do as a result of that is none of his fucking business.

But you don't get a chance. He plants a hand on your shoulder and shoves you backward. Hard. "Walk," he says in a tight voice.

You do so unthinkingly, turning and marching off, only cursing yourself for your blind obedience a few steps later. But you didn't really feel like arguing with him after all. What was the point? He wouldn't fight you. He never fights you anymore. You miss that. You wonder if he'd even react if you punched him in his fat mouth right now beyond gazing at you with those cold eyes.

You hunch your shoulders and let your mouth thin into a line as you walk, heading away from the small crowd that had gathered to witness your outburst. You're shaking a little now.

"Here's fine," Aonung says from behind you, but you don't listen this time, planning to walk until you reach the water and can swim off, deep down into the cool dimness.

He grabs you by your tail, and you should've expected it, really, but you still whirl around, snarling, lips curled over your fangs, ears tilting back, hands outstretched to claw his Eywa-damned eyes out.

He catches you by the wrists and pulls you in, using your momentum to do so.

You stumble, smack your forehead on him and reel back, cursing him out, trying to touch your head, feel for any new injury, but he doesnt let you go.

"Stand still for once in your fucking life, you idiot. Listen to me," Aonung hisses, pulling you in once again while you're distracted. It's like a stupid game of tug o'war.

"I am listening," you fire back, still trying to free yourself, contemplating kicking him in the thigh or the stomach to pry yourself free. "See my ears? See how they're attached to my head? See-"

"Why can't you just grow up?!" he snapped, shaking you a little. "You're such a child!"

"And you're such a moron," you snap back, but you subside a little at the blunt admonishment. "Why can't you just stay out of my life?!"

"I'd be able to if you stopped fighting other people!" he hissed.

"I can fight who I want!"

"So why don't you want to fight me anymore?!"

Sudden, abrupt, overwhelming silence.

Aonung's ears flatten against his head and he releases you, stepping back. You'd say he looks like he's been slapped but you're an expert on what he looks like when he's been hit and that is not a face he makes. You don't know what face that is. Embarrassment? Confusion?

You're confused. And say so.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You don't want to fight me! You're too good for a little scrapping here and there all of a sudden, big guy?" you scoff, knowing you're severely understating the level of your fights but not caring enough to correct yourself.

"Well, I thought I did, but that was before-"

Aonung stops again.

You want to jump him. Hit him until he starts acting like himself again. "Before what, dickhead?! What happened that made you too good for me all of a sudden?! Because you're the future chief, a warrior in training, you can't even argue with me anymore? I mean, fuck, forget arguing, you won't even look at me! I don't know what I did and whatever it was, I-"

Oh boy. You've never been the type to cry when you get angry, but you're so frustrated and overwhelmed right now the tears are practically crying themselves. They well up, quivering on your lash line for a half-second, forcing you to look at him with blurry vision, then roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts to wipe them away.

"I-" you try to continue, hiccuping now. "I wish I hadn't, because I just want things to be normal again, I want things to go back to the way they were-" Words escape you and you settle for crying with frustration and rage, looking at him as he still says nothing.

"They can't, okay?" he snaps. "They can't fucking go back! Get that through your head! We can't fight like we used to! It's not the same, I can't fight you and hate you and argue like I used to when-"

"Don't you dare fucking clam up on me again, you bitch," you hiccup, pointing at him, scrubbing away your tears with your other hand. "I have a right to fucking know why I can't fight you, and I can't fight other people, and-"

"I can't keep hurting you when all I can fucking think about is kissing you!" he hisses, hands forming fists at his sides, tail lashing behind him. "And I can't keep letting you get hurt either!"

You still, your feeble attempt to hide your tears forgotten, staring at him like he's grown two heads. Something in your chest twists savagely as you absorb his words silently.

"Don't look at me like that, like I'm some kind of monster for loving you. Yell at me, try to hit me, cuss me out, anything. Just don't look at me like that," he says, voice hitching and beginning to tremble as he speaks.

"What am I supposed to do with that love?" you ask quietly. "Don't say return it. I don't know if I can. Or if I want to. I mean, maybe I do want to but that's mostly just stemming from the fact that you haven't spoken to me in months or even come near me except from stopping me from fighting people, and I don't think it's fair of you at all to-"

"No, I know it's not," he said a little brokenly, and you hated that, maybe even more than you hated him. "I know it's not fair, just... please. Tell me you feel nothing for me, that us being practically attached at the hip since we were kids means nothing to you, that you don't even hate me, you just don't care about me."

You hated seeing him like this. You'd never seen this side of him and you never wanted to see it again. You could tell him that maybe it wasn't hatred and if it was hatred in the beginning it had evolved to a sort of messed up attachment, and if you dug long enough you'd probably find some kind of affection for him in your angry little heart. That might make him stop looking at you that way.

You just wanted him to stop looking like that, so sad and fucking pathetic. It made that same something that had twisted in your chest before twist again, but in a more painful way.

"I don't know if I do like you back," you say slowly. His shoulders slump and he raises his hands to his face, presumably to hide his expression.

You're not finished.

You step forward and take his hands, curling your fingers around them, pressing into his palms, more gentle than you've ever dared be with him. You lower them, looking into his face steadily. "But I think I could learn to. And I want to learn."

He lets out a ragged breath, expression now totally raw and hopeful, which was honestly the opposite of what you were hoping to achieve, which was sober him up out of this sad-sack thing he was in. But you think you can live with it.

"Okay," he breathes, gripping onto your hands. "A chance is all I need, I promise."

You nod and continue looking at him. Probably the longest you've really looked at him without swinging or didn't have your hands around his throat.

The silence drags on, and you're considering what to do or say next when he speaks again, shifting one of his hands from yours to touch your face. Your hand that he just released flies to his wrist, but you stop, relenting, allowing it when you realise he's just, very gently and carefully, unsticking wisps of your hair from the dried blood on your face and tucking it behind your ear. "I want to kiss you," he said bluntly. "Can I?"

You don't know if you'll like it but you figure it can't hurt to try, so you just nod, letting him cradle your jaw in his hand, still holding your other hand tightly, and let him kiss you like you're fragile, something far more delicate than you are.

It's not as bad as you thought. In fact, you like it. Probably more than you should.

Then you don't think much anymore, too distracted by his warm mouth on yours and how he tastes of sea salt.

(challenge to myself to write a reader who isn't a little freak next time)

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung avatar #atwow #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader #avatar 2 #tsireya

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 3 months

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2 + 1 = 3

Maya is six and will be placed in foster care soon, much to Katya's fear and pain, but Natasha has other ideas.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.4k • Warnings: none •A/N: thank you for this idea @drama2005 ! I can't believe I never wrote this scene before. Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2019

Katya crashed into Natasha's body with a sigh, nearly knocking a pan out of her hand in the process. Technically, she didn't have ''shifts'' at the orphanage, but ever since Thanos was defeated and half the world was blipped back, it was chaos.

In the midst of that chaos, she—and the rest of her staff—was trying to get the orphaned kids back with their blipped-back parents or family as fast as she could, before the government could come up with some law that prevented it, or made it more difficult.

It meant lots of paperwork, lots of research, and lots of calling around, all while caring for the kids and trying to keep their environment as stable as possible. Most of them were confused, lost, and didn't know what was going on and what was going to happen. Some had trouble eating, others had trouble sleeping. A lot of tears were shed on a daily basis. Katya tried to be there for them as best she could.

''Another four kids were picked up today by family,'' she mumbled as Natasha set the pan down and wrapped her slumped body into a tight hug.

The redhead hummed, slowly caressing her oily, dark hair. The physical affection was getting more frequent and started to feel like the time before Thanos again. It made her incredibly happy. ''Isn't that a good thing?''

Katya sighed again, reluctantly peeling her face from Natasha's shoulder. ''Yeah, but…'' Dark eyebags stuck out from her pale face like blood in snow, her eyelids heavy like they were being pulled down by strings, but funnily enough, Natasha worried less about her now than a month ago.

''But what?'' She asked softly, her hands on Katya's cheeks, lightly caressing her cheekbones with her thumbs.

''I don't know.'' Katya looked away from her, around the plainfully plain kitchen and the even plainer living room. They'd only moved into their lake house three weeks ago. ''I spent the last five years with them, I'm kind of sad to see them go, even if I'm really happy for them to be back where they belong.''

''What about—''

''She isn't getting picked up, Nat,'' Katya sharply cut her off, the frustration that she felt accidentally slipping out. The hopes she had for a happy ending for her favorite kid were getting more crushed by the day. ''She doesn't have anyone coming back for her. Her parents are dead-dead, not blipped, and the family we tried to contact doesn't want anything to do with her.'' Her jaw tensed. ''Makes me want to track them down, and—''

''Hey, hey.'' This time, Natasha cut her off before she could get angry, gently turning her head back towards her. ''She'll be okay.''

''No, she won't. She's fragile and sensitive, and she's going to end up in foster care, where there's creeps who take advantage of a sweet girl like her—'' Katya caught herself this time, taking a deep breath in and out until the deep crease on her forehead disappeared. She just felt so powerless. Pitifully, she buried her face in Natasha's shoulder again. ''I'm scared and sad for her.''

''I know, I know.'' Natasha rubbed her back, barely hearing what her wife said. Her mind was reeling with thoughts it had before, or maybe it were dreams. Anyhow, they were worthless back then, wrongly timed, but now… She took a deep breath and took the leap. ''Why doesn't she come and live with us?''

Katya didn't react like she thought she would. The brunette didn't move a muscle, mumbling into Natasha's shirt. ''I thought of it, but… I didn't think you'd want that.''

''Honey, it's been the two of us for five years now. This place could use some life.''

Carefully, Katya picked her head up, as if she was scared she was being pranked. ''Really?''

''Yes.'' Natasha smiled carefully, seeing the hope flare up in her wife's eyes. ''We have two empty bedrooms upstairs. One could be hers.''

Katya fully perked up, her mind going crazy with plans and ideas. ''Until we can find a good family for her. It'll give us time to vet check them.''

Ah. That's why she didn't react surprised before. She thought that Natasha meant the girl would only be staying temporarily. She never thought that she would suggest adopting.

Weird excitement caused Natasha to contain a smile as she prepared to give Katya the biggest shock of her life. ''Actually, I was talking about a permanent stay.''

Katya froze, her eyes widening. It was nearly comical how it took her a few seconds to process. ''Per— You mean adopting her.''

''We've always talked about kids. We know her, she knows us, it feels right.'' Natasha seemingly spoke very casually about it, but her heart raced in her chest. ''Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.''

''Not thoroughly,'' Katya answered slowly, wide-eyed. ''It flashed across my mind, but I didn't think you'd want it this fast. Not after…'' Natasha nudged her chin up when she saw that Katya was mentally drifting to a bad place. The brunette shook her head, breathing out hard. ''Everything is just back on track. We are just starting to come together again.''

''True, but I doubt the adoption process is that fast. We probably still have a month or two to get used to the idea.''

She had completely knocked Katya into a state of disorientation and disbelief. The woman was just staring at her, lips slightly parted, as she tried to comprehend the entirety of what she was implying. Usually, Katya was the dreamer, and Natasha the realist. So this was by far the most unexpected thing Katya had ever expected to come out of her wife's mouth.

''Really?''

Natasha nodded, running her hands down Katya's arms until she could hold her hands tightly, giving them a reassuring squeeze. ''I've wanted nothing more than a family with you my whole life. You know my silent dream of being a mom. Maya's—''

''Perfect,'' Katya breathed, starting to get on board with this crazy dream.

Natasha nodded again. Maya was perfect, damaged and all. ''She came onto our path for a reason, Kat.''

''I thought you weren't superstitious,'' Katya teased. Natasha half-heartedly rolled her eyes.

''Well, after the twists and turns our lives have taken, and the place we ended up, how can I not be? I got everything I wanted. Peace, a home, you.'' She let go of one of Katya's hands to pull her closer by her hip. A light blush spread across the brunette's cheeks. ''There's only one thing missing, and I feel like it's her.''

Katya could barely contain her excitement. She wanted to take that leap of happiness with Natasha, but cautiousness slipped into her system after everything that happened. ''Can we even adopt? With our past, it's not exactly the best background to raise a kid.''

''Well, we did save the world… twice. And the universe… once, so who better to raise a kid than that?'' Natasha shrugged with a smirk. ''Besides, if Tony Stark, of all people, can raise a half decent kid like Morgan, then surely we can too.''

Katya snorted, untangling her hand from Natasha's to drape her arms over her shoulders. Their fronts were pressed together, creating an intimate bubble filled with pure bliss. ''It's a big responsibility,'' she muttered, staring deeply into those warm, familiar green eyes.

''And nothing we can't handle together.''

Natasha's confidence was contagious. Katya's heart beat with hope. ''You're serious?''

''Dead serious,'' Natasha promised, pulling her hips closer. Motherhood was the last thing she would ever think lightly about. ''Do you want this too?''

Katya breathed out a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head slowly. ''More than I want to kiss you, and I really want to kiss you right now.''

Natasha smiled joyfully. ''Then I'm in if you're in.''

Her answer came in the form of a lovesick look that meant a thousand words. The love poured out of Katya's eyes as she stared at her wife in excited disbelief. They were doing this. They were finally going to have that family they always dreamed of.

The road may have been long, and incredibly, incredibly difficult at times, but this was where they were always meant to end up. Together, safely, as a family. Fate had a weird way of working out exactly like it was supposed to.

''I love you,'' Katya whispered, affection dripping from every syllable so heavily that Natasha felt her knees weaken.

''I love you too.''

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #marvel #mcu #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #natalia romanova

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sepublic · 10 months

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It's really surprising to think about it, but it occurred to me that throughout the entire show, amidst all of her accomplishments, we technically never see Luz make a single human friend. This obviously doesn't count her parents, who are blood relations and (should be) friends by default. And it's not as if Luz didn't try, she quite explicitly did, although her attempts were dismissed by everyone else.

I don't think this is really a bad thing at all for Luz, because she has plenty of witch and demon friends, after all, and there's no meaningful existential distinction between humans and the Demon Realm's inhabitants by the end of the day, contrary to what others might claim. Likewise, there's the pretty obvious implication given by Yesterday's Lie that Luz could've made friends at the Reality Check camp, given how well Masha and co. resonated with Vee there and managed to retain their identities.

There's also those two kids (whom I named Mike and Bridget after the crew members they were based on) that invited Luz to the Halloween hayride, although Luz obviously had too much on her mind at the moment to be receptive. I wonder if Luz ever became properly acquainted with them once she started healing during the time skip, as the existence of the Earth and Demon Realm exchange program suggests that other humans have also been introduced to the Boiling Isles.

It's implied that Luz grew distant with Masha and co. after taking Vee's place, on account of technically having never been close to them to begin with; And like with those two kids that invited her, I suspect it had to do with Luz's trauma and the awkwardness of secrets creating a gap between them, in addition to Luz needing to help her friends adjust to Gravesfield. Under other circumstances Luz would've been eager to embrace her fellow weirdoes, but with her guilt over everything (including depriving Vee of her friends, I imagine) it just wasn't the time.

Again, I find the introduction of Masha and co. to be really effective because I think it rattles Luz's sense of self by making her question her decision to stay in the Boiling Isles; Because seeing Vee and her friends just suggests to Luz that maybe the Reality Check camp could've worked out, and she'd have been able to get friends without having to lie to, hurt, and be separated from her mother in the process. Which makes Luz second-guess herself, and in addition to Camila making her promise to stay, causes Luz to begin mistakenly regretting her decisions.

But as we all know, if Luz DID go to the camp, so many terrible things including genocide would've been allowed to happen without her, and so many people would've continued suffering. And she also got to live out her dream of being a witch, which you can't really blame her for attempting when she got the opportunity. What happened already happened and it's not as if Luz can be blamed for it, because how could anyone anticipate the chain of events, and ignore others who certainly did much more, with actual malice, to contribute to the trauma? Luz had to see things the whole way through and she did; Choosing herself helped others, it didn’t hurt them like Luz thought!

Anyhow, it's basically canon that Vee got to reconnect with Masha and co., and more than likely reveal her true nature and history, especially with Gus leading an exchange program she’s part of. So I like to think Luz DID make human friends in Masha and co., as well as the two who invited her to their hayride; I love how they seem to lowkey adore Luz as a fellow weirdo, and tbh, it's not as if Luz needs human friends when she already has human connections, because witches and demons are no less 'real' in terms of being people and all.

But it'd be nice if Luz ultimately found it reassuring, the realization that there were weirdoes in Gravesfield like her, and that she could've been friends with them; Especially if it did happen anyway because Luz chose both worlds and not just one. My point being, we need a lot more content with Luz meeting Vee's friends, and especially hanging out with Mike and Bridget, since we actually saw human strangers like Luz for being Luz!!! They’re canonically fans of Luz from her chaotic reputation (not the one Vee made) and were curious to see if she’d do a crazy costume again like last Halloween!!! And their existence reassures viewers that they needn’t go to another realm entirely to find weirdoes like them, because they exist right here on this Earth!!!

#the owl house #Luz Noceda #meta

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feroluce · 4 months

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Boothill doesn't pull his hair back very often. Dan Heng can count the times he's seen him do it on one hand. The man's right eye is gone completely but his left is a cybernetic, and it means Boothill can "see" whether his hair is in his face or not, so there's simply never much need for it.

So it surprises him when Boothill asks if he can put his hair up for him Xianzhou-style.

"Do you even own a hairpin?"

"Ya got chopsticks around here, don't ya?"

Which is how they end up awkwardly sat on the floor of the archives, Boothill sitting criss-cross and Dan Heng knelt behind him to make up for the differences in their height. Boothill doesn't say why he wants this done, but Dan Heng can guess: long life species are rarely allowed to leave the Xianzhou ships. It's not as rare as running into an actual, real-life Galaxy Ranger, but it's still pretty uncommon. Boothill is just trying to indulge his curiosity about little cultural things like this while he's able. Dan Heng can never say no to that kind of curiosity.

When his own hair was long, he never put it up. But there are memories, just little bits of things that nip at Dan Heng's ankles in the night when he's alone in the dark. And he remembers something like this, something similar. Dan Feng's hands with a hairpin, long hair grayed with age flowing in rivers between his fingers, quick and easy practiced motions revealing ears and nape and soot from the forge.

Boothill hands him a chopstick when he asks for it, because Dan Heng finds he needs both hands to keep his hair in place. He's not quick enough the first time, and the bun unravels, and the second attempt is better but it's messy and held so loosely that he goes at it for a third.

Boothill doesn't comment on it. Instead he just sits there and admires the picture of it that Dan Heng shows him on his phone, chatters a bit about what he knows of Xianzhou culture, how he'd met a Foxian woman not too long before Penacony with elaborate decorations done up in her hair and he'd wondered how anyone could even do that. A hairpin maybe would have been easier, but really the chopsticks probably fit him better, pretty little things like that don't suit me, anyhow.

Dan Heng catches like. Half of it. He's too busy staring at his hands.

Dan Feng had been good at doing other people's hair for them. He'd had a lot of practice. Dan Heng had seen it. But in the molting rebirth, his body had reset. The simple knowledge could be inherited. The experience could not.

That skill, that muscle memory, belongs to Dan Feng, and to Dan Feng only.

There is no mourning, no sense of loss with this realization, just relief. An extra confirmation of something he had already known.

But Dan Heng looks up at Boothill, who is running his curious fingers over the back of his own head, and he thinks about how there are some things he can have just for himself, too.

#honkai star rail #henghill #dan heng #boothill #hsr #hsr dan heng #hsr boothill #bootheng #this got posted late because it was not the henghill post I was originally going to make today oops #but the other one needs more consideration for characterization and culture #so this is what we're doing today instead haha #I don't think Dan Heng needs Boothill to reinforce the idea that he is not Dan Feng.#he already knows he isn't and the express crew has already helped quite a bit in that regard-#-for accepting him as he is now and not holding him to Dan Feng's standard #like I'm a huge yingyue believer but I've never really liked r3nheng or jingh3ng #I like Dan Heng getting to step away from anything related to Dan Feng and Boothill works really well for that ♡#(this is why other than henghill my only other ship for Dan Heng is dango trio haha)#these two give me the yaps so bad ARGH

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kopivie · 11 months

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share some hades!wrio headcanons? I'm actually SO invested i'm going to die

oh! i think i can come up with a few! it'll probably be some facts about him, and maybe some writing? (note: i'm coming back after finishing this and.. i got so carried away.)

(also as a side note, if i were to write a fic about this, i might use a lot of greek/ancient greek terms and words, so if you see something like that, please don't be alarmed.)

first and foremost, i'm definitely clinging to That One Part of wriothesley's canon lore of him abandoning the name given to him before his murder trial. canonically, he just picked up the name "wriothesley" from an obituary because he didn't want to use the one his foster parents gave him. what that name was, we will probably never know (unless it's said in his story quest, which i haven't done yet.) that said, allow me to jump into my hades!wriothesley hcs :D

"wriothesley" is a name that very few actually use. much like canon, people often refer to him as "your grace". however, he has many, many monikers; "the duke of meropide" and "king of the underworld" are just two of many.

underworld residents (or to overworlders, meropide prisoners) coined a bunch of new terms to refer to the elusive duke: aides or aidoneus (meaning "the unseen" or "the invisible one"), orcus (meaning "killer" or "the one who kills"), ditis pater/dis pater/dis (all meaning something along the lines of "rich one"), or clymenus (meaning "the illustrious" or "the revered one")

note: these are all actual names used to refer to hades in greek mythology.

no one calls him those names to his face or in his presence. those names are spoken in whisper -- saying any of those names seems to evoke a physical reaction to anyone who may have been in the fortress long enough to understand the weight behind those names.

hades!wriothesley is not a benevolent being. he is extremely objective. he seldom makes emotional decisions, which leads people to believe that at times, he has no emotions to speak of. (which isn't true, obviously.) his impartial decisions have cost many a life.

i think that because he doesn't rely on his emotions when making many decisions, that is the reason why he goes overboard when it comes to you. it's a little like shaking an unopened soda bottle for an hour and then suddenly opening the top.

wriothesley's love overflows, it gushes, it stains everything it touches. it seeps into every pore and changes you from the inside out. the problem with this, however, is that you resist this change initially.

you are receptive to his... i don't wanna call it advances, since that often has a negative connotation. wriothesley is anything but pushy and inappropriate. he's gentlemanly and chivalrous, so much so that you almost want to scream sometimes. let's call it courting — you allow him to court you, although you keep him at a distance.

why do you keep him at a distance? i... don't really know. perhaps someone can send in a suggestion. but the point is that you don't fully indulge yourself -- sometimes you do, but you become slightly distant and apologetic afterwards. wriothesley understands and is happy to be patient with you, but...

i think my suggestion for your hesitancy would be that you can feel the love that he exudes, and it scares you. you're afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to sink too deep.

and that... that is probably why you resent him when he takes you to the fortress. that's part of the reason, anyhow. you were afraid of drowning and he literally took you to the bottom of the sea. in a metaphorical sense, he basically tied a brick to your ankles and dragged you down to his own depths against your will. you can't fight, you can't resist -- you can only endure. that is why you're angry with him.

"why do you resent me so?"

hades has the audacity to ask you such a question as you study a flower that he'd brought back from his latest visit to the overworld. you hadn't known of his departure, but when he gifted you this fresh plant, you felt something ugly and bitter stir within you. you became fixated on it, deciding to hole yourself up in your room to spend time with the only thing that gave you peace. you don't react to his question.

he stays quiet for a while, but he doesn't leave. after about five minutes, he inquires again. "please, blossom. i must know. i just wish to make you happy."

you all but slam your hand down on your desk. "happy? you want to make me happy?" you haven't raised your voice, but your tone is as icy as the vision that dangles from his clothing. "set me free. let me go home."

wriothesley is quiet again. "...will you at least look at me?"

the wetness in your eyes forces you to shake your head. "you haven't earned my gaze."

"and what must i do to earn it?"

"i've already told you."

"what else must i do?"

that gets you to turn around. "why are you so stubborn? what is preventing you from letting me go? you yourself can wander between the realms freely, but i can't?" your eyes sting with unshed tears, though the sensation doesn't last long. your frame trembles as you cry, and wriothesley cups your face to wipe the tears away. "do not touch me." you hiss at him.

wriothesley gives you a humorless smile. "you're not pushing me away."

...he's right. why aren't you pushing him away? "you haven't earned the right to touch me."

"haven't i?" hades is leaning in closer. you can smell peppermint on his breath. did he drink tea before coming? his thumb caresses your cheek. your eyes list to the side. "blossom," he calls you. "please."

you have a hard time resisting when he begs you like this. you hate how you let him get away with murder. he's trapped you here against your will, denied you of your freedom, and yet you still allow him to treat you like a deity. you allow him to do as he pleases. you don't feel threatened by him, no -- what you feel is his sincerity. his longing. his love.

you lock eyes with wriothesley. he's sharing a breath with you now. "wh-what do you want?" you ask. "you've already taken everything from me. how greedy can one man be?"

wriothesley's eyes glimmer in the lamplight. you can feel his gaze drop to your lips. his voice is noticeably deeper when he asks, "do you want to find out?"

you're not sure what you feel when he kisses you. the kiss is soft, sweet, and tastes of peppermint. his lips are warm, as is the rest of him. he licks into your mouth slowly and patiently, and you don't fight him.

because really, you've never wanted to push him away. you want to accept wriothesley for who he is, bloodied hands and all. you want him almost as bad as he wants you. and yet you just can't accept him in his entirety-- not as he is now. not when he's secretive and evasive. but his affection gives you some reprieve; his love gives you peace overwhelming, so much so that you let your own feelings shine through in moments like these.

you end the kiss first. you pull away, breathless, though you notice that he doesn't move an inch. after a brief silence, you finally speak. "you're too much for me." you murmur. "you'll be death of me."

wriothesley takes your hands in his. "for as long as i rule the underworld," he replies, "death will never find you. and that's a promise."

(also obligatory catte tag bc i need a fellow wrio lover to see this 🫡🩷 @catcze)

(p.s.: lemme know if i shouldn't tag you in this stuff, okay?)

#[ 📬 — inbox. ]#[ 💭 — thoughts. ]#hades!wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #oh man..#OH MAN HE GETS MY BRAIN GOINNGGGG

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