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jointherebellion215 · 1 month

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Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood.

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.”

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid.

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

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jackshiccup · 7 months

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if i could hold you for a minute darling, i'd go through it again

inspired by chapter 42 of OTNWAS by @jjackfrost

#of the northmost wind and skies #otnwas #hijack #frostcup #jack frost #jackson overland #hiccup haddock #jackshiccup art #my art #hozier lyrics and hijack YOOO TURN THIS SHIT UP !!!!!!!!#every1 pls listen to francesca it's literally so them it hurts #i've been having that song on repeat while i bite my fist and cry #like i gotta be honest besties i rly can't read this ch without wanting to burst out into tears every 7 minutes it stings fr #this is also inspired by the lobster movie posters they slap u guys should check it out #anyway been wanting to make fanart for this fic for ages ;; <3!!

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shirozora-draws · 1 year

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... anyway, I got given ideas. Guess this is what happens when I go several months without drawing anything.

First art of 2023, first art post of 2023, and full of the energy I hope to carry into the year. This is the way, and all that.

#shirozora draws #dinluke #skydalorian #lukedin #din djarin #luke skywalker #grogu #r2d2 #porgs #x-wing #fang fighter #star wars #the mandalorian #and a massive explosion of all time #the movie kiss of all time #inspired by a convo in discord while I was on my 'Where's Mando?' Disneyland trip #and off I go frantically finishing up the staircase fic so that I can scramble to start posting the 3quelfic before S3 drops #Happy New Year fuckos!

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silky-nereid · 2 months

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— memory's regret

yandere!firework owner x married!reader/you

a/n: I would recommend to read this one before reading this. , part 3

Yandere! Firework owner who also lived in the small town but on the outskirts of the town and was constantly overshadowed by their more outspoken siblings who could blend in within the ranks of old money which you were somewhat friends in childhood. Due to quiet conversations within the insides of the old money town was ultimately forced to move away.

Yandere! Firework owner who comes back after years of being away and dreams of seeing you again and works nearest jobs to see you.

Yandere! Firework owner who’s working the post office and finally sees you again and their heart flutters with joy since you had been writing letters to a relative.

“Just these?” They asked.

You held a simple booklet that was littered with cut out stamps, they were different from your usual choice which was the common blue.

“Cut them and put them on this letter. I have seen you before.” You handed the amount needed to purchase the booklet to them, looking intensely at them. “You work in the…in the cafe?”

“Yes.” Their hands trembled, the snipping of scissors echoed throughout the slow hour. “I do work around town.”

They stuck it on the letter that you had given them, fingertips accidentally brushed; it was meant to be. They put the letter in the mailing shelf for that specific place; don’t open it.

Yandere! Firework owner who is fired from their workplace in the post office due to ‘tampering with the occasional letter or two’ and begrudgingly continues their jobs despite their stacked schedule but they soon leave the town once more to find more work and then they could be the person that was able to support you and your desires.

Yandere! Firework owner who accidentally falls into dirty business but doesn’t mind since they’re waiting to get you in their arms which they aren’t going to let go. After years, they finally arrive back to the small town with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and they arrive at your home, expecting to see you. Instead they were greeted by a maid telling them that you had been married off at the beginning of last summer.

Yandere! Firework owner, who in their grief purchased a small estate near a dock and had too many fireworks from a deal going wrong, started up a few viewing parties to try and relieve this empty hole. They send invitations to everyone out of pure tiredness as if someone would see the beauty in fireworks then they might try to see the beauty as well.

Your eyes looked around the open space, twinkling stars in the pitch black would soon be replaced by colorful fireworks, your hands that nervously gripped his bicep.

“Welcome.” Their eyes still darted down but a smile grew on their face. “You both are?”

“Hand them the invitation,” you said. “The host must be somewhere—“

Their eyes darted up hearing your voice, were the fireworks too close or did it feel like a eternal summer in their clothes.

“I’m—I am the host.” They adjusted their cuffs. “A pleasure to have you both.”

Throughout the viewing party, their eyes were kept on you who now sat alone, watching the fireworks and slipping from the champagne flute. After one drink to loosen up and decide to walk towards you who seemed to be lost in thought. Each step towards you made their legs wobble in pure worry, their stomach no longer grumbled but felt like an anchor that weighed down each step.

“Not now, can’t you see—“ You turned around to see them. “Apologies, I thought you were someone else.”

“No, I understand.” They sat down next to you. “How is the show? Is it everything that you wanted?”

“It’s great,” you said, “better than going to the pictures. Have you been to the pictures?”

“Not often.” They looked at the colorful bursts of the twisted colors. “Which ones would you recommend seeing?”

Yandere! Firework owner who listens to every picture/movie recommend seeing and doesn’t realize how closely you both were but doesn’t point it out to you and puts their coat on you and hands are slowly interwoven with each other before you were snatched away by your spouse who seemed to be a bit disheveled. They watched every step that you did and there was no resistance towards him.

Yandere! Firework owner who manages to get your line and calls you whenever you’re in need which invitations are becoming more and more frequent. After weeks of calling, their heart aches when you call them a friend because they need to be more but they’re alright after a few days since being friends isn’t that bad.

Yandere! Firework owner who lets you stay at their home after a big argument and let’s you express your bottled emotions which they dropped the usage of your name and replaced it with dear.

You lay on the daybed, still in your undergarments and a silk robe with intricate designs covering your body as socks were held up with garters. Your palms held the silver wedding ring that rested on your abdomen which a soft hand brushed against yours. You jolted up, reddened eyes from crying frantically looking at them.

“I’m sorry, dear.” They pulled away their hand. “I didn’t mean to disturb you but you haven’t come for breakfast, do you want to tell me anything?”

After an odd silence in the decorated lounge that seemed to have your preferences in mind, you sat up and they sat down next to you; dressed in simple day attire.

“Why do you stay with him?” They asked.

“Security.” You looked down at your lap. “My parents left the inheritance to the rest, they didn’t ever plan for me to let get anything."

“I can help.” They smiled, grabbing your hand and softly squeezing it. “I can give you enough to keep you afloat for a while because I have too much to spare. Please, can you do this one request?”

“What is it?” You asked.

“That you will not go back to him,” they said. “I know that you’re intelligent and I can try to understand why it would be tempting but don’t go back to him, dear.”

#yandere x reader #yandere prompt #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #is it obvious that inspired by a movie?#tw implied infidelity #my sleep schedule is fucked

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bluebeewings · 1 year

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This is the most real letterboxd review I have ever made. Can’t wait for the movie to come out so people will see the vision 🙏🙏🙏

#succession #tomgreg #greg hirsch #tom wambsgans #letterboxd #the menu #thats me follow me #analu42 #i really want a tomgreg fic inspired by this movie #mine

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qprstobin · 9 months

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Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

#stobin #platonic stobin #st fic rec #mini fic #steve #robin #my writing #writing tag #this was got out of hand #all of the stuff about prom is pulled loosely from my own experiences with prom #both from it being seniors only (juniors at my school had their own dance) to what people did after prom #(i went to two proms and one group went and saw a bad horror movie after prom and i went to a diner with the other group)#also this is barely editted so there is some weird tense switches in here im sorry!#this wasnt meant to be an actual fic i had just meant to throw out the idea of steve asking robin to his prom #and steves voice got away from me quick #this was inspired by the fic i reblogged earlier today about steve taking robin to her prom

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ladyylavenderrr · 1 year

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At first, Luigi is hopeful. He sits in his (admittedly comfortable) cell with his head held high. He looks out the window and imagines what his brother will do when he finally comes for him. There’s no question that Bowser will get the beating of a lifetime, of course, but Luigi still wonders how the showdown will go. He occupies his mind by imagining it all.

After 4 days, Luigi starts to get worried. He and his brother had never taken this long to rescue Peach when she’d gotten captured. Bowser must have realized this too for he soon takes the time to actually speak to Luigi.

“Your brother busy or something?”, he jokes. It gets a chuckle out of Luigi. Only a small one.

After an entire week has passed, Luigi stops responding to his captor entirely. It’s a real shame. The two had been having nice conversations. Bowser is a nice guy behind his tough façade. The constant kidnapping thing he has going on isn’t ideal, but at least he’s not cruel.

Once Luigi goes silent, Bowser starts bringing him more and more of his meals personally. He smiles kindly when Luigi finally takes a bite after an entire hour of refusing and it’s the only thing that awakens Luigi from his depressive state, if only slightly. Bowser keeps talking throughout these interactions, even if his captive won’t respond.

After two weeks, as Luigi sits on his little bed, slowly sipping at his soup, he finally cracks. His sobs come so suddenly, they surprise even him. The man barely even registers Bowser kneeling in front of him. He perhaps says something but Luigi can’t hear him. He’s too busy sobbing pathetically onto his meal.

He’s not sure how he finds himself in the koopa’s arms, sobs shaking him violently. He’s not sure who was the one to even go in for the hug, if Bowser pulled him down to the floor or if he himself leaped towards him in a panic. Either way, Luigi shakes and clings to the king in desperation.

Bowser lets him out of his cell not long after.

After 3 weeks, Luigi begins throwing things in fits of intense anger. Even though Bowser has allowed him to leave his cell and wander the castle, he doesn’t. Luigi mostly just stays in his room. If before he was depressed, now he was angry. He snaps at any servant that dares approach, he punches walls and screams into his pillow. Bowser is the only one to not get angry. When servants glare as he throws the meals they brought, when nearby guards yell as they restrain him, Bowser is calm and kind. That fact just makes Luigi all the more furious.

“Get out!” Luigi weakly throws a chair. Bowser stays still. “Why won’t you leave?!” Bowser stays still. Luigi lets out a scream of frustration and tears at his pillow. “Just get rid of me! Just hurt me already!” Bowser doesn’t. He just stays still, an unreadable expression on his face.

When Luigi tires himself out he falls to the floor and cries. He finds Bowser there to hold him once more. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”, Luigi chokes out through his tears. Bowser doesn’t respond.

After a month, Luigi finally starts going out. He walks in the gardens (quaint as they may be compared to those in the mushroom kingdom) and almost feels like himself again. He helps out in the kitchens and feels joy fill his being once more. When he’s introduced to Jr, he takes to him immediately and the two bond quickly. Luigi notices that he isn’t guarded anymore and when he’s by the palace gates, he’s not looked at with suspicion. The message is clear and the opportunity is there. Luigi doesn’t take it.

“Why don’t you leave?”, Bowser asks him one day. The two are sat in the royal library and Luigi is caught off guard by the question. Their conversation had been cheerful and lighthearted up until that point, about nothing in particular. It takes a moment for Luigi to answer but he finally responds with “Why would I?”

“Don’t you have friends you miss?”

“I don’t want to think about them…”

He thinks about Daisy, about his friends in the toad villages. He can’t bring himself to imagine going back to them, to a life outside of Bowser’s kingdom.

“Besides, where would I even go? Back to him?”

The way Luigi hisses the phrase out is enough to keep Bowser quiet. The koopa stares at nothing yet his attention is clearly still on Luigi.

“You’re the one who took care of me at my lowest. Not him.”

Luigi takes his hand with his own, shaking nervously.

“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay with you.”

The silence between the two stretches on endlessly.

“You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?”

Bowser looks away, his face red, but when Luigi feels him squeeze his hand, he knows he has his answer.

After 2 months, Luigi gives up on the idea of the mushroom kingdom ever coming to a peace with the Koopa Kingdom, at least not in his lifetime. Luigi finds the prejudices he believed about the residents of this kingdom to be nothing but a fabrication. Luigi can’t even recall why the two kingdoms hate each other so much. He only knows that things have always been this way and that’s how they’re destined to remain. Bowser speaks to him about his recent revelations about the unending conflict, about his failed attempts to find peace with Princess Peach. The distrust runs too deep, it seems.

“Is that why you kidnapped me then? Were you upset you had failed again?”, Luigi finds himself asking.

“Not really. But I’ve always kidnapped someone, right? It’s what I do, even if I’ve stopped being sure why.”, Bowser’s eyes were far away. “I guess I just wanted someone new to take.”, he chuckles.

Luigi finds himself smiling and laughing alongside him. “I’m glad you did.”, he speaks. Despite all that’s happened, despite being abandoned by his brother, Luigi can’t help but thank fate for bringing him to Bowser. He’s found someone who’s good for him, someone who cares for him, warts and all.

It’s too bad a red-capped hero slowly making his way toward Bowser’s castle has to ruin it all

#mario bros #mario #Bowuigi #dark fic #kinda #more like bittersweet #mario movie #not really tho #shoutout to Bend or Break for inspiring this #I live for morally ambiguous Bowuigi #fanfiction #lgbtq #bittersweet #can’t believe I wrote this #Luigi has issues #and his relationship with Bowser is a bit unhealthy #arcane vibes #fic #corruption arc

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wroteclassicaly · 1 month

Text

New chapters will release on Friday (once I begin). It will contain ten installments. It’s dark!Steve. It will be an explicit thriller, so be warned.

The inspirations?

#kristenwrites #any guesses? ;)#I will theme the day I’m posting with the movie the fic is inspired by…#**** Friday ^_^

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etheralisi · 3 months

Text

Rottmnt Fakeposting part 3

Find parts 1 and 2 here + 3.5 because this couldn’t all fit on one post

🍏holy-sewer-apples Follow

I met a little green alien dude once. Wonder if he’s doing okay

1,578 notes

🕜has-lou-jitsu-been-found-yet Follow

Day 3679 of me posting: no

🎃scared-of-crows-deactivated23902741 Follow

Get a hobby

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

I will out your search history

92 notes

☄️gravity-tumbles Follow

Every time I phone in sick, I think about that one kid who came into school bright green. Must’ve been ill as hell. I could never

767 notes

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

Sasquatch this kappacrawler that. There’s only one cryptid I care about and that’s my neighbour’s cat. That thing ain’t a cat. It’s bright yellow and it stares into my soul

🚫nonononope Follow

That’s normal cat behaviour

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I SAID BRIGHT YELLOW

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

No I don’t have any pictures. Stop asking. Damn not-cat keeps vanishing into thin air

🫂glompglomp Follow

Tf is a kappacrawler

🐺wendigo-watcher Follow

Local New York conspiracy. Scuttles around sewers, on roofs, steals your children (maybe)

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

This ain’t about him

6,073 notes

🧚pixipartched Follow

I really really feel bad for asking, but I don’t have much of a choice. Aliens squished by home. Here’s a link to my go fund me here

48 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Last time I had this many people following me, it was an ambush

#I don’t know what I did but hi

56 notes

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

EVERY WEBSITE I VISIT ASKS IF I ACCEPT COOKIES

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

NO I DO NOT

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

BEGONE. KEEP YOUR SUBPAR BAKED GOODS TO YOURSELF

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

>:(

157 notes

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

My driver’s license is a two year winning streak in Mario kart. Try arresting me now

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Oh???? So you lie to your followers???? I know I won first place last games night and you know it

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

You cheated

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Says the guy who hacks games as a pastime. I still want a rematch

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

You tell him corn

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Oh I know you’re not innocent either mr

203 notes

🚂imatrainwreck Follow

If only there was a way to grow instant luscious locks

🐙massages-at-a-price Follow

I can help with that

#hehe

72 notes

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Throwback to that one time my brother was mistaken as IT when trying to return someone’s keys

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

I was just trying to help

#they fell down the drain #so I picked them up and pushed them back through the grate #I wasn’t trying to be scary #and should you really be posting this

341 notes

cyyyynamon said: I’m going cave diving tomorrow. Will I see you there?

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

But you didn’t invite me?

86 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Don’t send me back to jail. I’m too pretty

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

What have you done now

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I was too pretty ✨

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Be original, Blue

75 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

First day of school. I’ve never seen this many people in one area before

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Oh the joys of public school.

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

*Wipes tear* they grow up so fast

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

So apparently normal people don’t chirp. I never want to hold a conversation ever again

60 notes

🕵️‍♀️sloopersleuth Follow

Yoooooo what if our mysterious superheroes in rainbow know the kappacrawler??? You think they’re buddies? Think they hang out and chill and talk about how their week has been? Think kappacrawler house sits from them sometimes? Think they share birthday cards?

7,421 notes

🎽tink-tank-toe Follow

Sometimes I wonder if time travellers really exist. Are we all just on some divergent timeline? How close a shave have we come to a world obsolete?

🛶canoodleoodle Follow

#posts that keep me up at night

5,329 notes

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Remember to spread the positivity ✨☀️ Kindness can go a long way

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Where was this kindness when it came to the last pizza slice?

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

I was already at my daily kindness quota

1,997 notes

🔎detective-cornstarch Follow

It has occurred to me not everyone on this website knows about the kappacrawler

🔎detective-cornstarch Follow

Your loss

466 notes

🦷sleeptooth Follow

#i am curious

8,003 notes

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler, take me away

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler, whisk me away into the night

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler kidnap me

809 notes

🍮fastest-flanalive Follow

Stop with these he/him pronouns for the kappacrawler. Did you ask them their preferred pronouns????? No. Kappacrawler could be a very fancy lady

🐈meown Follow

I’m very sorry kappacrawler. You can be a fancy lady if you want :(

🍯honeyhoneysugar Follow

Have we been misgendering kappacrawler with whole time?

😐restingsnitchface Follow

It’s a cryptid. You think it’ll care about gender?

7,335 notes

🐸frippityfroppity Follow

If I was a kappacrawler where would I hide

🍾snopop Follow

In your walls

2,756 notes

🫣flinx-blinx Follow

I thought there was only one kappacrawler. But I swear I just saw two. Is there a mr and mrs kappa??? Baby kappletts??? A whole kappa family 🥹🥹

😈my-dad-is-satan Follow

Maybe? I think there’s at least three

4,102 notes

🐒nightmonkey Follow

Who is this kappa??? Why is he crawling???

🐒nightmonkey Follow

Spider-man wannabe

2,811 notes

🦜petite-parakeet Follow

Still convinced that whole invasion thing was a hoax. Elaborate, but a hoax

765 notes

🪄meet-my-nunchucks Follow

Were those aliens sent packing? I’m confused

🪄meet-my-nunchucks Follow

Are they at home? On some faraway planet? Kicking their tentacles up after a long day at work invading our planet?

3,230 notes

💗love-duv Follow

5,008 notes

📖myfixoffic Follow

Guys come read my slenderman x kappacrawler fic here for all of your slenderkappa needs

🌑faded-moonlight Follow

Why would you write this?

📖myfixoffic Follow

Why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

278 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I heard that kappacrawler has an 8-pack. That the kappacrawler is shredded

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Be original, Blue (tally: II)

312 notes

👻ghost-chase Follow

Why can’t I live in New York. I want to fight aliens too

👻ghost-chase Follow

1,864 notes

#Rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #Rottmnt fic #socmed #fakeposting #casey jr #rottmnt leo #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #Yes this was very much inspired by ‘turtleman’. But you can’t convince me these boys haven’t been spotted somewhere along the line #bread fic #Rottmnt movie #surprise surprise I’m back for more #rottmnt casey jr #social media #rottmnt social media au

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serasfanfiction · 1 month

Text

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The next few days were peaceful. The kind of peaceful Lucifer hadn't experienced since the Hotel was in the process of being rebuilt. He hadn't realized how much stress Alastor was causing him until he backed off.

Lucifer might even have gotten a full nights sleep last night! That hadn't happened in an especially long time!

(He wasn't thinking about the fact that his sleep had been haunted by the caress of teeth along his neck or glimpses of red, red sated eyes.)

The images threatened to steal his attention, even as he tried to bury them down with all the other things he was refusing to think about at this point. He forced himself to pay attention, tuning in as Charlie said, excitedly, "She's already spending half her time here! It's really only a matter of time before she agrees to join us full time!"

The campaign to get Cherri Bomb to join the Hazbin Hotel had been having mixed results since the fight with Adam and her participating in the rebuilding. She was clearly here mostly for Angel, but it seemed that the other denizens of the hotel were growing on her. Charlie was correct in that the cyclops spent just as much time at the hotel as she did were ever else she landed when she wasn't with them. She even had a room of her own, even if she didn't officially claim it. It definitely helped it was right next door to her best friend.

Lucifer patted her shoulder. "She'll come around in her own time. Remember, for this to work, they have to actually want it."

Charlie placed her hand over her father's, biting her lip and near bursting with excitement. "I know, but it just feels like we're so close! It'll be so great when she agrees."

"Yes, but in the meantime, we'll just continue to make her feel welcome." He smiled at her proudly. "Which you're already doing so well at!"

Charlie's returned the smile, pleased with his feedback.

The moment, like so often when one lives in Hell, was suddenly and abruptly interrupted by the entire building shaking.

Angel appeared on the landing of the second floor, the one that overlooked the main entrance and foyer. "What the hell? We haven't had any shady guests lately, have we?"

Alastor stepped out of the shadows near the entrance, a loud boom ringing out as something large and heavy hit the door.

Lucifer was suddenly glad he had reinforced the structure. It wasn't impossible that someone could break in through brute force, especially if someone was extremely determined, but the sheer effort would give the hotel guests ample time to mount a defense.

Loud shouting came from outside, words unintelligible through the thickness of it. Alastor ignored the hostile aura premating from outside as if he couldn't even feel it, throwing open the door.

"Oh my, you are quite annoying," he greeted the group at their door. The two fellas up front, stooges and the muscle by the look of them, were holding a large battering ram. Alastor eyed it distastefully. "Whatever business could you have with us that is worth all this racket?"

A nervous looking demon cleared his throat, unwisely drawing the Radio Demon's full attention. "We." He swallowed, complexion growing paler the longer Alastor stared at him. In a rush, he stated, "We were sent here to send a message!"

The radio host tilted his head to the side. "Message?"

The group glanced at each other, clearly psyching themselves up. Nodding, the 'leader' proclaimed, "Yeah, 'give up this shitty mission, or else.'"

"Or else what?"

The group collectively drew their weapons, an assortment of guns and knives. "Or else we're going to have to use force."

The widening of Alastor's grin should have been a warning. Lucifer would have felt bad for the little idiots for not seeing the flaming pile of shit they had just stepped in, but they were in the process of threatening his daughter and that was just a big no go for him.

"Oh, you really don't want to do that." Lucifer came up to stand beside Alastor, hands coming up in a shooing motion. "Like, seriously. Go back to whoever sent you and tell them they don't get a second warning."

The leader blinked down at him. He must have been new to Hell, because he asked, "And who are you?"

"Oh, little ol' me?" Lucifer's wings and horns appeared in all their full glory. "I'm the Devil, bitches."

The group barely had time to do little more than gape before they were sent tumbling arse over head from a powerful gust of wind, curtesy of the before mentioned wings. Fully prepared to rough them up a little before sending them on their way, Lucifer stepped out of the hotel.

Only to be halted by something wrapping around his waist. He glanced down at what appeared to be a shadow about the thickness of a vine. Now, where had that come from?

"Now, now, your Majesty, that won't do."

Ah, yes. Of course, it was one of Alastor's shadow tentacle things.

"Oi! Put me down!" The blond protested as he was picked up and then deposited on one of the second floor balconies.

Alastor didn't bother looking back at him. His tone was that of a parent talking to a particularly petulant child as he ordered, "Why don't you stay up there for a bit? There's really no need for you to get involved."

Lucifer had half a mind to take not just the goons out, but Alastor as well, but ultimately decided to let the Radio Demon have his fun. Besides, he was looking a little peckish lately. "Just leave one alive so they can tell their boss to back off!"

Down below, Charlie chimed in with, "Or we could leave all of them alive?"

Alastor near cackled as he grew in size, the invaders suddenly realizing they were in serious danger and attempting to make a run for it. Shadow creatures began to rise out of the ground, breaking off their get away. "Nonesense!" Alastor disagreed cheerfully. "Everyone mysteriously disappearing is a much more delicious way of keeping people on their feet!"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Oh, he bet it was 'delicious.'

A noise behind him drew his attention. Lucifer looked over his shoulder, finding himself eye to eye with a wolf demon he'd never seen a day in his life. Especially not one that had no business sneaking into the hotel with a knife he was clearly intending to use.

They started at each other for a long moment. The guy must have been an idiot, because he apparently decided he wanted to take his chances and attempt to stab the King of Hell himself.

Lucifer reached up, fully intending to catch the blade. Under normal circumstances, weapons made in Hell couldn't hurt him and would have just shattered on contact.

But this blade wasn't just an ordinary blade made it Hell. Lucifer realized it must have been made from Angelic Steel when the knife cut straight through his hand like a hot knife through butter. He winced, despite himself. Somehow, he'd forgotten how much that could hurt.

The wolf demon made the mistake of not pressing his advantage, seeming to think that the pain of something as simple as a knife through the hand would be enough to make the first being to ever lead a rebellion against a real army to pause. Oh no, all it did was infuriate him.

Lucifer pressed his hand down the knife further, allowing him to take hold of the hilt. The demon's grip went slack with shock, allowing the blond to wretch it out of his hand. With his good hand, Lucifer yanked the offensive object out, carelessly tossing it onto one of the other neighboring balconies, where it would be of little use during this battle and could be retrieved later. "Oh, that was a very poor decision." Giving no quarter, he darted forward to wrap his hand around the demon's throat, wings flapping to give him the hieght to do so. "Tell me why you're up here, before I decide to be rid of you regardless."

The wolf grunted, hands clawing uselessly at his arm. He managed to choke out, "Like we said: we're just here to send a message."

Lucifer looked down at where Alastor was rounding up the last couple of stragglers, tossing a third into his mouth. The little nervous demon from before appeared to have peed himself from fright. The seraphim turned back to his captive. Something told him that those boo zoos were a mere distraction and this was the real leader of the group. Shaking him a little, Lucifer demanded, "Who sent you?"

A sneer came in response. "We're just for hire. We get a call and we do the job, no questions asked."

Lucifer realized he wasn't going to get anything of use out of this guy. And since he was likely the only real threat of the group, the blond didn't feel comfortable letting him be the return messenger.

A beat of his wings had them air born, bringing them to hover over Alastor, who's ears perked up as he realized he was about to get another morsel. "Whelp, in that case, it sounds like you're useless to me. Guess I'll just hand you over to the Alastor--"

"W-wait!" The wolf demon frantically choked out, "Isn't this p-place for s-second chances! Your d-daughter believes in that s-shit, doesn't she?"

Lucifer's eyes narrowed. "You're right. My daughter does have a gift for seeing the best in people, even when there isn't any. But me? My curse is that I'm damned to always see the worst in all of you." Between one blink to the next, he let his form bleed into it's most demonic, hellfire igniting and his broken halo taking form as the true crown of Hell manifested. His True Eyes opened along his coat, Seeing right through this worthless soul and all of his sins. "Tell me, honestly, do you regret, even a little, for pushing Elizabeth in front of that train? Did you care in the least that her husband only had a handful of voicemails to remember her voice by? That her son grew up without any memories of his own mother?"

The wolf demon gasped for breathe, eyes wild. "The- the reporter? I had to kill her." He squirmed and yanked to no avail, Lucifer's hand like steel around his neck. Frantically, he added, "She was no-no one! She- she was going to ruin everything!"

Lucifer sneered. "Wrong answer."

Without hesitation, he opened his fist. The wolf demon shrieked as he fell, the shrill sound abruptly cutting off as Alastor closed his mouth around his treat.

The nervous little demon, perhaps smarter than they gave him credit for, took advantage of the distraction to make his get away. Alastor let him in favor of watching his king, eyes alight and calculating.

Lucifer hovered above him, every one of his eyes trained on the sinner below him. He realized that while he had seen Alastor in his full eldritch form during their first meeting, this would be the first time Alastor was seeing him in his own full demonic form.

Alastor, like in every aspect of his life, neither blinked nor cowered. He brought up a hand, the motion that puppet slowness he'd showed when Lucifer had manifested the pair of deer ears. He brought it up until it hovered just below the Devil's feet.

Lucifer squinted at him, not trusting that if he let himself land in Alastor's hand, the latter wouldn't just drop him out of spite.

He never found out either way, as he became distracted by Charlie's alarmed shout of "Oh my goodness, Dad!"

Alarmed, Lucifer spun around, his demonic features melting away into his normal appearance. "Charlie? What's wrong?" He came down to land in front of her, reaching out to make certain nothing had gotten past them to hurt her. "Are you okay?"

Charlie grabbed onto his hand, causing him to wince. Horrified, she cried out, "Forget me! Your hand is hurt." She hissed as she assessed the full extent of the damage. "Oh shit, it went all the way through!" She twisted around to shout back at the other behind her. "Vaggie! Bandages!"

Lucifer held up his free hand. "It's fine, sweetie, really. It'll heal up in no time. Really, I'd be more worried about any survivors. Alastor is way too enthusiastic for a guard dog." He glanced over his shoulder at Alastor, who had shrunk down to his normal size. Lucifer caught a glimpse of a gold coated tongue past the the hand the red head had up to his mouth. Lucifer found himself reassessing if Alastor had been offering him a hand after all or if he had just been taking the opportunity to get another taste of angel blood.

Judging by the pleased look on the deer demon's face, and the fact that he was letting 'guard dog' comment slide, it was most likely the latter.

And this was why Lucifer had trust issues when it came to this little shit.

Charlie tugged him towards the inside of the hotel, saying something about bandaging his hand. He was forced to break eye contact with his rival or keep his daughter from carrying on with his fretting. Really, it was all too much. It would take longer than the usual for injury to heal - the scar would barely be noticeable in a few days! - there was really no need for all this fussing! He even tried to say as such, which turned out to be a bad idea, because now Charlie was making sad eyes at him and really he was just going to be quiet and let her do her thing because it was so much better than her crying.

In the mess of the clean-up, Lucifer completely forgot about the angelic blade.

tbc

Part 5

#radioapple #appleradio #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #deer lucifer who is not actually appearing in this chapter #we needed some team building between lucifer and alastor #it'll be worth it all later #this chapter might have been inspired by the malificent movie #i just mostly wanted to write out the scene with lucifer in full demon form #so sue me #and wild plot appears!#its largely there to keep these two idiots interacting #we'll see where this goes #deer lucifer may be back in part five or six #likely six

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stingray-art · 5 months

Text

He had to stop himself from fiddling with the gold band, so unfamiliar on his finger. Acting the part of a dashing ladies' man for his jobs was one thing, but a doting and devoted husband was another. Especially when it was her.

Based on @ladycrescentvenus’s fic, Lucifer’s 13, for the Greed Island Server card #13, Luck Bankbook 💎

@hxhevents

#i love this little fic and i’m so glad i got the opportunity to draw something for it #incredible writing. highly recommend!#I’ve never seen oceans 11 so this was mostly aesthetically inspired by the paintings done for casino royale #which uh. i also have not read or seen the movie of #can you call it research if you look into it after you’ve already made the thing…?#greed island server #greed island challenge #pakunoda #pakunoda hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo hxh #kuropaku #hxh #hunter x hunter #2023 #digital art #my art

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 year

Text

Katya dies. Katya lives. Katya fakes her own death, which is a metaphor for dying, even if she survives. Note that we never see Katya after her fake death is reported to Goncharov, because the movie is not interested in Katya’s survival; it is interested in her loss. Note that it can be argued this lacuna is of no particular significance, given that we never see her before that, either, because the movie doesn’t exist. Note that Goncharov never sees her, really: note how often in their scenes his eyes are somewhere else, how rarely their conversations fall into the familiar visual rhythm of shot/reverse shot (compare with his exchanges with Andrey, particularly just before the scene on the bridge). Note how often this has been true, on screen and off it: that a husband never really sees his wife. Note how often the effect of cinema as an art form has been to document that men never really see women. They see their mothers, they see sex, they see their desires and their failures, their potential and their shame, their delusions of grandeur and their grubby biographies laid out side by side. They see the airbrushed ad campaign and the unsmooth reality of flesh laid out side by side and they look at the lie and say That one, I want that one, and then they win an Oscar for it. They see themselves. Narcissus at the pond. (There is a story from an ancient land, a story of a love more passionate and powerful than the human desire to survive: A girl loved a boy. A boy loved himself. He couldn’t understand that she was always trying to talk to him; she couldn’t understand that he would never try to speak to her. Their love killed them both.) Note that moment at the start of the bridge scene, before everything falls apart, where we see their reflections in the water, just long enough to note that his eyes are on his wavering image, and so are hers. Note that Goncharov doesn’t see her, because he doesn’t see women as people. Note that Goncharov doesn’t see her because he’s not in the movie because the movie doesn’t exist. Note that actually it’s Goncharov and Andrey on the bridge, because Katya by that point is dead.

did i lose it and write like two thousand words of uh idk some cross between an experimental prose poem and a deranged shitpost about tumblr's current favorite inside joke? well that's none of your business but if you are nosy then yes i did post it on ao3 because of my personal spiritual policy against censoring my own derangement

#goncharov #unreality #lord help the girls you gave adderall so they could do their jobs and wash dishes are writing fic for a movie that doesn't exist #would love to experience this sudden burst of verbal inspiration on any of like 900 preexisting projects i would actually like to one day do #or on. idk. literally anything that is not Completely Stupid #fic i wrote #i guess. i guess i have to put it in the tag. because of my Policy. [sigh]

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

if you'd let me want you

also on ao3 thank u @lunaraindrop for the help <3 cw: angst <3 arguing, brief panic attacks

“I’m just saying, man,” Eddie says lightly, leaning against the counter, watching Steve lift a box and set it on a cart. He lets himself watch. Steve isn’t looking at him. He can practically feel the ground shake as Steve rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You guys make sense together.”

“Just because something makes sense doesn’t mean it…” Steve rips the box open. Eddie wills his face not to flush with heat. “Make sense.”

“That didn’t make sense.”

Steve shoots him a look.

“I don’t like Nancy like that anymore,” he says, almost grumbling. His mood shifted as soon as Eddie brought her up a few minutes ago. He smiled when Eddie showed up at Family Video, greeting him with a bright, “Hey!” but the second Eddie asked if he’s seen Nancy recently, the perpetual soft smile that lingered on his face faded and he looked away. His cheeks flushed pink. So Eddie doesn’t really believe him.

“You know I don’t believe you, right?”

Steve sends a look over at him. But it’s not really a look. He glares at him.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise as Steve looks away again, his stomach twisting.

“You don’t have to believe me, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice twinged with annoyance. “It doesn’t make it… not true.”

“Well, you get all uptight and stiff every time I bring her up,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s defending himself.

“Yeah, maybe I just don’t wanna talk about my ex with you,” Steve says, his voice firmer, annoyed and slightly louder. Eddie’s chest tightens, and he furrows his brows, his breath caught in his chest.

“This is the kind of thing friends talk about,” he says defensively.

“Maybe I just wanna hang out with you without talking about my fucking love life,” Steve snaps, putting a tape up on a shelf a little too hard. Eddie blinks.

“Why are you pissed?”

“I’m not pissed.”

“You sound pissed. You look pissed.”

“I’m fine, Eddie,” Steve says, sounding even more pissed. “I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

Eddie has a problem. He’s had this problem his whole life.

“Why don’t you wanna talk about it?”

It’s gotten him in trouble before. Many times. At home, at school, with his friends, the assholes that shoved him around in the hallways, against lockers.

“You talk about it with Robin,” he says. “Why is it such a big deal to talk about it with me? What’s your problem?”

He pushes. And prods. And pokes. And annoys the fuck out of whoever he’s talking to, until—

“Jesus, Eddie, I don’t fucking know, just fuck off.”

Eddie stares at him as he looks up at him. His eyes are gleaming, his brows are furrowed, and his cheeks are red, and he looks angry, and for some fucking reason it just pisses Eddie off.

“I wanna help you,” he snaps. “I know you like her, and you guys would be perfect for each other, fuckin’ mister and missus America—”

“I don’t fucking like her,” Steve almost shouts, and Eddie almost flinches back, the volume making its way under his skin, pulling at him and making him ache.

“What’s your fucking deal, Harrington?” He matches his volume.

Steve recoils like Eddie’s slapped him across the face, his eyes wide, and he blinks, his shoulders falling.

“Don’t call me Harrington,” he says weakly. Eddie exhales, staring at him. “You never call me Harrington.”

The door opens across the store, the bell shoving it dinging brightly, and Robin greets them with a cheerful, “Hey, dinguses.”

Neither of them look away, their eyes locked, and Eddie barely even heard Robin’s tentative, “What’s going on?” Steve looks like he might cry, his cheeks still flushed, his eyes shining, and Eddie scoffs, shaking his head and tearing his eyes away from Steve, ignoring Robin and heading to the door. It slams shut behind him.

His hands are shaking as he fumbles with his keys, biting his trembling lip as he slides into the driver's seat, and he looks up into the store as he starts the van. Robin is looking at Steve, confused, still holding her bag in her hands, and Steve is covering his face, holding a tape before he shouts something Eddie can’t hear and throws the tape across the store.

Eddie’s vision swims and he pulls out of the parking lot without buckling his seat belt.

———————

He doesn’t see Steve for another four days.

He doesn’t really have to. It’s not like they tend to hang out every day. (Every other day, maybe. Sometimes more. But they don’t have a strict schedule, and Steve doesn’t come inside when he drops the kids off at Eddie’s for Hellfire on Thursday.)

Four whole days.

Is it pathetic that he misses him? Probably. It’s only four days, but Eddie feels hollow, like something is missing just because he hasn’t heard Steve’s voice.

Steve seems to feel the same way, which doesn’t really make Eddie feel better, even though his heart fucking soars when he opens the door to his apartment to find Steve standing there, his hair damp from the rain. He’s somehow looking up at Eddie despite being almost the exact same height as him.

“Hi,” Eddie says quietly, holding the door open. Steve rocks up onto his toes, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, and he glances past Eddie into the apartment.

“Is Wayne here?”

Eddie blinks, his heart falling, and Steve seems to notice it, because he hurriedly says, “I’m not— I just wanna talk to you, like, alone. I just… wanna make sure.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinks again. “No, he’s— he’s at work.”

“Okay.” Steve pauses, swallowing, swaying. “Can I… Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says after staring at him for a moment. “Yeah, come in.”

Steve exhales as he enters, pushing his hair back. His jacket is spotted with rain. Eddie forgot it was raining at all. He can’t hear rain much in this apartment. Unless it’s pouring.

“Talk,” Eddie says, heading into the kitchen. The kettle isn’t boiling yet, and he feels underdressed next to Steve, who’s wearing jeans and a tucked-in button-down, his jacket neatly pressed except for the rain. Eddie’s just in sweatpants and a grey sweater that’s two sizes too big.

“I, uhm.” Steve hesitates, taking a breath.

Eddie leans against the counter next to the stove, crossing his arms, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Steve says, leaning against the wall across from Eddie. It’s a small kitchen. Their feet are almost touching.

Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I was…” Steve pauses, swallowing anxiously, his hands shifting in his pockets. “I was upset, and I lashed out at you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks into his eyes. They’re shining again. They always are.

“I don’t get why you were upset,” Eddie says quietly, feeling like he’s confessing something. He often doesn’t get why people feel certain things. Why people get annoyed at him for the things he does when he isn’t hurting anyone. Why people laugh when there’s nothing to laugh about. Why people get upset when he tries to help them.

Especially with something like all this with Steve. He and Nancy would be perfect together. Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington. White picket fence and a soccer team of children and yearly vacations and everything someone like Eddie Munson could never have.

He hasn’t told anyone that he doesn’t understand what they’re feeling in a long time. The last few times he told them they’ve scoffed and rolled their eyes and accused him of lying to get away with being an asshole, even when he was so adamant he worked himself to tears.

But Steve doesn’t do any of those things. He looks at Eddie and believes him.

“I don’t like Nancy anymore,” Steve says. He sounds close to tears. “And it just… pissed me off that you just didn’t believe me.”

He must see the doubt on Eddie’s face.

“I don't like her anymore,” Steve says. “I swear.”

Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes.

“I see how you look at her, Steve,” he says softly, and he wants to go throw himself out the living room window. Because he sounds so desperate, so fucking honest, and Steve can probably see right into him.

“How do I look at her?” Steve asks desperately, his head tilting forward.

“Like she’s perfect,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing. The kettle is starting to boil, the whistle low and quiet. “Like she’s fucking flawless, like she’s… the fucking sunset or something.”

“Eddie,” Steve says weakly, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t get it,” Eddie says adamantly. The whistle is growing in pitch. “I don’t get why you don’t like her, she’s— she is perfect, she’s the one for you—”

“No, she’s not,” Steve says angrily.

He doesn’t even seem to notice the kettle whistling loudly, screeching at them, and Eddie huffs, turning away.

“Jesus,” he mutters, turning off the burner. “What do you want from me, Steve?” he asks, pulling the kettle off the burner, feeling it vibrate as it whistles.

“I don’t want anything from you, I want you.”

The kettle falls quiet.

The kitchen is silent.

Eddie blinks at the kettle, the words washing over him like cold water, and he almost drops the kettle as he sets it down heavily. It lands loudly on the stove, clattering on the burner, and he turns around to look at Steve.

Steve’s eyes are wide as he realises what he’s just said, and Eddie isn’t breathing, and he’s trembling, and Steve takes a sharp breath before he turns away.

Eddie reaches out and grabs his shirt, pulling him back.

Except he doesn’t do that.

He yells, at the top of his lungs, as loud as he can, I want you too. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

Except he doesn’t do that either.

Steve leaves, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Eddie lets him.

———————

Six days.

Six fucking empty days.

Wayne notices that something is off, but he doesn’t ask, because he knows Eddie won’t tell. If he were to ask, Eddie would probably just burst into tears, and Wayne had never known what to do when Eddie cries. It’s not like Grandpa Munson was a touchy-feely guy. Wayne’s always just brought him tea and tissues and given him a hug if he wanted one.

Eddie covers it up when the kids come over to the apartment to hang out. Lucas tells him he asked Steve if he wanted to come up to say hi, but that Steve has errands to run. Eddie just quips that Steve is a big boy, all old and mature. The kids laugh, living in their sweet, sweet ignorance.

When the kids aren’t over, and Corroded guys aren’t over, he’s holed up in his room, staring at the ceiling with his headphones on. (He can’t use his speakers anymore because of complaints from the neighbours.) Trying to let the music drown out the words that are bouncing around his skull like a pinball.

I want you. I want you. I want you.

On the seventh day, Robin calls him.

He doesn’t want to answer the phone, but he trudges up out of bed, pushing his hair out of his face. He’s still wearing the same sweater.

She tells him the Party’s having a movie night at Steve’s.

Eddie’s chest aches at the sound of Steve’s name.

You’re gonna be there, she says, because she seems to know how his brain works better than anyone else he’s met. You’re gonna be there gets him to change his sweater.

His eyes meet Steve’s when he goes inside, but they both look away, and Eddie immediately swerves to the other side of the living room, scooping El into his arms and cackling evilly when she screams his name.

Steve sits with Robin on the sofa. Eddie can tell Robin knows something is up, but he can also tell that Steve hasn’t told her anything because she glances at Eddie, then at Steve, and Steve ignores her, his eyes trained on Dustin as he argues with Will about something.

The lights shut off when the movie starts.

Steve leans against the armrest of the sofa, Robin leans against him, and Nancy leans against her. Jonathan and Argyle are on the floor, Jonathan’s head on Argyle’s shoulder. The kids are all on the floor, tangled and piled on top of each other like a litter of puppies.

Eddie doesn’t even know which movie is playing. He keeps looking at Steve.

He feels like his veins are filled with wax, his body tense and stiff and so anxious he’s shaking a little bit.

I want you.

Eddie looks over at him again, the words echoing in his head, in the exact cadence and emphasis that Steve spoke in, adamant and angry and desperate.

Steve’s eyes meet his across the room. They’re shining. Reflecting the flashing lights of the movie.

Eddie tilts his head, gesturing silently, weakly, toward the kitchen.

Steve inhales, his jaw working, and he sighs quietly, squeezing Robin’s arm and moving to get up. She looks up at him, then at Eddie, then at Nancy, moving so Steve can get up, pulling Nancy closer.

Eddie gets up quietly, stepping behind the sofa so he doesn’t get in anyone’s view of the movie before he follows Steve down the hall to the kitchen, shutting the door behind them.

Steve crosses his arms when he enters the kitchen like he’s protecting himself, looking sulky and upset and so small it makes Eddie want to cry. He leans against the island, looking at the floor, biting his lip, and Eddie steps to be in front of him, leaning against the wall.

They're both quiet. Eddie can almost hear the movie, muffled and quiet through the door and down the endless hallway. Eddie can almost hear his own heartbeat. He listens to Steve’s breath.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly, almost whispering.

Steve looks up at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s before he looks away, at the floor, his eyes moving like he’s looking for something.

“Steve,” Eddie says weakly when Steve doesn’t say anything. “Did you mean it?”

Steve takes a sharp breath, his lip trembling.

“Yes.”

Eddie exhales.

The floor is solid beneath his feet.

Holy shit.

He steps forward, looking at Steve’s face. His eyes are squeezed shut.

Eddie reaches up to his cheek, wiping away a tear, and Steve startles, his eyes flying open to look at Eddie, his eyes filled with tears, scared and desperate. He’s breathing hard, blinking.

“I want you too,” Eddie whispers.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Eddie, please.” Steve’s voice squeaks, breaks and chokes, and Eddie reaches up to hold his face between his hands, wiping away the tears that fall from his eyes. Steve is gasping for breath, and Eddie presses a hand firmly against his chest as it rises and falls quickly.

“I’m not fucking with you, Stevie,” he murmurs. Steve’s hands grab at Eddie’s waist, gripping the fabric of his sweater. (This one is black.) He’s holding him too tightly, but Eddie doesn’t mind. “I want you, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Steve closes his eyes hard, his brows furrowing as he pants, and Eddie leans close, pressing their foreheads together, murmuring to him. Breathe, Steve, slowly. You got it.

It takes a while for his breathing to slow, and Eddie slides his hand up his chest when it does, moving it up over the collar of his sweatshirt, over his neck, to his cheek.

“Why’d you push me to go with Nancy?” Steve chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes, and Eddie’s eyes burn, aching because he can’t explain it.

“I don’t…” He hesitates, shrugging weakly, holding Steve’s cheeks carefully, tenderly. He sighs, letting his head fall forward so their foreheads meet as he thinks. “Because boys like me don’t get things like this,” he says softly, quietly.

“Yes, they do,” Steve whispers.

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut.

They’re quiet for a moment, sharing breaths, until Eddie slowly slides his hands across Steve’s neck, hugging him tightly, and Steve’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him against himself harshly, strongly. A soft sound escapes Eddie’s throat, and his eyes burn more, and he buries his face in Steve’s neck as Steve’s shoulders shake.

Their friends are down the hall. Anyone could come in for chips or soda or water, and find them here, crying in each other’s arms, and the thought of the absurdity of it makes Eddie laugh. Steve’s hand slides over his back, holding him so tightly Eddie can barely breathe.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, burying a hand in Steve’s hair. “Holy shit, holy shit.”

“Eddie,” Steve says softly, pulling away and looking at him, and he lifts his hands to Eddie’s face, wiping his tears away so tenderly it just makes Eddie cry more.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut when Steve pulls at his face, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to his mouth, and when they part, Eddie gasps, opening his mouth for him and pulling him closer until Steve kisses him again.

Steve’s hands reach down and pull at Eddie’s legs, picking him up with unfair ease, and Eddie clutches at him desperately as Steve turns to set him on the counter. Eddie’s legs wrap around him tightly, whimpering when Steve’s hands press to his back and waist and his hips.

“‘M sorry,” Steve breathes between frenzied kisses. “‘M so sorry.”

“Me too,” Eddie says, panting. “I’m sorry, Stevie, just… I need…”

“Breathe,” Steve says weakly. Eddie closes his eyes. He didn’t even realise it, but he’s gasping for breath, each one getting caught in his throat, hiccupping and choking, and he grips Steve’s shoulders tightly, so hard it probably hurts, but he can’t let go, and Steve doesn’t say anything except, “Breathe.”

Eddie hugs him tightly, desperately, and Steve hugs him back just the same, pressing a hand to the small of his back. Eddie is swaying back and forth, which he doesn't realise until after a few seconds, and he stops himself. It makes people seasick, distracts them, he's heard it all, and he's just gotten Steve's arms around him. He doesn't want to mess this up.

But Steve tugs at his back, stepping closer to the island so his chest is pressed to Eddie, and he starts to sway. Eddie buries his face in Steve's neck, his eyes stinging, and he lets Steve move him, weight dropping off his shoulders, his breaths coming out easier and easier until he's breathing normally. They don't stop swaying together, rocking back and forth slowly, carefully, until Eddie lifts his head and touches his face. His skin is tacky with drying tears, the streaks shining in the dim light of the kitchen. Eddie wipes them away before he leans in and kisses him softly.

"Do you wanna go finish the movie?" Steve asks when they part, his lips still brushing Eddie's as he speaks.

"I don't even know what movie it is."

"Me either. Do you wanna go be confused together?"

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

They pause to sip at a glass of water together before they head back to the living room, their fingers laced. No one pays them any mind except Robin, whose eyes catch their hands, and she raises an eyebrow, smiling up at Steve as he sits next to her again. Robin moves, nudging Nancy so she shifts to lean against the opposite armrest, and Eddie squeezes in between Steve and Robin. Steves's arm makes its way around Eddie's shoulders as they look at the television. (Eddie can't even guess what's happening in the movie.)

Eddie closes his eyes, leaning against Steve, pressing his face into his chest, and he pulls one of his legs up, setting it across Steve's. Steve pulls him in closer, tighter, his cheek resting on Eddie's head.

Eddie shifts to face him, nuzzling into his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist, cuddling as closely and as tightly as he can as he takes a long, deep breath and exhales slowly. Steve smells like his cologne. Eddie wants to keep the smell. Maybe find it on his pillows.

He falls asleep to the sound of Steve's heartbeat.

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