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#so everyones like (who the FUCK keeps falling for witches??!?)
musubiki · 6 months
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Thougt I just had at work But!!! Marshal falling for the Snake Witch means that either members of the M34th falling for witches really isn't as uncommon as the like to say it is, *or* Lime is now considered the worst influence on members ever. Only married people can go on missions with him after Marshal defects.
LMFAOOOO FJDKADA I ACTUALLY DONT THINK ITS SUPER UNCOMMON!!!!!!!!!!!!! as a gag i would LOVE if they specifically had "anti-witch-seduction" training where they force you to fucking listen to seminars and shit (like how universities make students do the free speech training/SH training etc) and everytime some members gets entangled with a witch, lime gets another email thats like "New training due: anti-witch-seduction training" and EVERYONE GROANS... LIKE GOD, WHO KEEPS DOING THIS SHIT?!
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wandasgf · 3 months
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WUNDAGORE. 18+. mdni.
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pairing: villain!wanda maximoff + avenger!reader
summary: wanda gets rid of that pesky memory block of yours
warnings: angst, emotional and mental manipulation, mentions of murder, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and confused, one (1) mommy, allusion to smut at the end
wc: 1.6k~
a/n: кошечка (koshechka) = kitty
The wind that blows past is frigid and the rocks underneath your hands are sharp-edged and cold as you stare up at the Scarlet Witch or whatever the hell Wanda was calling herself these days from your place on the ground. You’re tempted to try and kick her feet out from under her where she’s standing above you, catch her off guard and send her tumbling down the cliff, but you don’t. You just glare up at her, knowing that even if you managed to catch her off guard, she would never fall that easily. She would rise up like the most beautiful archdemon you’ve ever seen and deal whatever damage you’d dealt to her tenfold. To anyone who might be watching, lurking in the shadows but not daring to interrupt either of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure hatred, disgust in its purest form that mirrors the look in Wanda’s eyes. But you both know it’s not true, that the hatred disguises something much worse. Something you’d never admit even in the emptiest of places, something Wanda would only ever admit in your dreams. Something that would destroy you both if you’re not careful. 
“You’re disgusting.” You spit, icy and cold. “Destroying those universes like it’s nothing, like they’re nothing.” You finally get your bearings back, standing up and clenching your fists at your side, trying your best not to just hit her, punch her, shove her down, anything. “All for what? So you can get back a man who tried to kill you?” Jealousy. “A man who wanted to destroy the universe and start over to create the perfect humanity? You know, the more I think about it, the more I think maybe the two of you really are meant for each other.” 
“Shut the fuck up!” Wanda hisses, and you think she might push you down again, but instead she pulls you closer to her by your collar. You can feel her warm breath against your skin and you have to repress a shiver. “You think that you know everything about everyone, don’t you? You think I’m doing this for that man? You think any of this is for him?” She laughs like you’ve just said the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” It’s almost comical to her that you really think that, that you’re so god damn blind that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. She knows why you can’t see it, of course, but she hadn’t always realized how susceptible you were. You can’t see that she’s been trying to find another universe, any other universe where you don’t hate her anymore, where she didn’t fuck everything up and the Avengers didn’t take you away from her. 
She knows she should stop talking, she knows she should shut her mouth before she makes things worse, but she can’t stop herself. She knows how to play the role of the villain to a T now, and if the only way she gets to be close to you again is to make you cry then so be it. “You think you’re better than me because you kill people in the name of the Avengers instead of your own?” She laughs, her grip on your shirt tightening. “I have some news for you, little hero, you’re certainly no better than I am. What is it that keeps you there, anyway? You know you don’t belong there.” It’s a low blow, but she knows how true it is even if you no longer do, “Is it the Russian? Do you stay so you can see the look of approval in her eyes whenever you kill someone for her?” Jealousy. “But you’d do it even if she didn’t ask. I’d say you and I are rather the same, wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck you!” The smirk that curls on her lips makes you nauseous and you push her away from you. You know that she let you, loosened her grip on your shirt so you could feel like you’re even half as strong as she is, but you don’t care. “I think that I know everything? What about you! Acting like you know anything about me besides what my blood looks like on your hands.” Your hands are shaking both because of the look Wanda gives you and because you’re upset that she would ever bring up Natasha. Upset at the possibility that this encounter would taint your relationship with the Russian redhead, that Wanda’s words would burn at the back of your mind like acid. Because it’s not true, what she said is not true. You don’t like killing those people, you don’t like seeing their blood on your hands or seeing the light drain from their eyes. You don’t like it. You don’t. 
Wanda doesn’t have to look into your mind to know what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face. She knows she hit a sore spot with that comment. “I don’t know anything about you?” She tilts her head, taking a step towards you as you take one away from her. “You always talk,” another step forward, “like you know,” and another, “what you’re saying” and then another, you try to take another step backward, but your back hits the jagged wall of the cave, “but you don’t, do you?” Wanda hadn’t been this close to you since she had nearly torn your heart out of your chest and it was making you dizzy. Had she always smelled this familiar and good? You’re very purposefully avoiding eye contact, not wanting to see the satisfaction in her eyes at having cornered you. Suddenly you feel Wanda’s hand gripping your face and forcing you to look at her, “No, you don’t. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”
Wanda’s eyes glow red for just a minute and you feel like there’s a fog in your brain being lifted before your memories crash down on you like a tidal wave. Wanda’s eyes go back to their regular green color and her hand moves to cup your cheek, her darkened fingertips tapping against your skin. She gives you a second, knows this is going to be a lot for you. She did just unlock over 5 years of forcefully forgotten memories after all. She wasn’t going to do this, it will result in everything the Avengers have at their disposal being thrown at her for taking away their leverage over her, but they shouldn’t have let you come alone and she was growing rather tired of hearing you hurl insults at her and seeing the way you beamed up at Natasha whenever she caught the two of you together. This was poor planning on the Avengers’ part, that’s all. 
Suddenly you feel nauseous, every memory you’ve ever had with Wanda hitting you with full force. You feel like you’ve just gotten a metal bat to the gut and then again to your head. You don’t know what to think. Was this real? Did Wanda plant those in your head? No, that didn’t seem right. This would certainly explain the way certain Avengers acted around you and the way you felt when Wanda was near. You were explaining that away as anxiety, nervousness over being so close to someone to dangerous and vile. You lean into the warmth of Wanda’s touch before you can even think about stopping yourself. She can see the way your mind is racing, how your pupils are blown as you try to piece everything together. Eventually, you look up at her with those doe eyes you used to use on her and she almost tears up. “Wanda?” There you are. 
“Hi, кошечка. You must be so confused, huh? I know it’s a lot, but I promise things will be better now.” Your head spins at her words and her tone, that tone… everything is too much and not enough all at once. Too much information, but at the same time not enough. Why didn’t you remember any of that before? Why were you ever trying to hurt Wanda? Why was she hurting you back? Was she hurting you back? Why had she been doing all of those horrible things? Your Wanda would never do those things. Except, well, this was your Wanda, so surely that makes it excusable, right? But if she was your Wanda, why weren’t you with her? Wanda taps against your cheek to catch your attention again, noticing how unfocused your eyes are as you spiral in your own mind. “Those Avengers were so mean to take you away from me like they did, trying to turn you against me.” 
“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would they do that? I thought they were supposed to be nice, why would they take me from you? Why would… why?” You’re slowly putting the pieces together while trying to cope with the fact that for the past two years you’ve been treating your… your Wanda like an enemy. Your tough exterior is cracking and crumbling as each second goes by, no longer being kept back by the mental barrier you didn’t even know was there. “Oh, my sweet girl, because they’re not nice. They’ve been keeping you like a caged animal, using you like a weapon and tricking you into trusting them.” Wanda’s voice soothes you if only slightly, but the thought of being used like that has you so angry and overwhelmed with all the emotions clashing in your head that you can’t help but let out a quiet whimper, tears forming in your eyes. Wanda coos, bringing you closer and holding you against her chest. She strokes your hair, humming softly before she speaks again, “It’s okay, mommy’s got you. I’ll make it all better, don’t worry.”
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i will not accept shane spouse room slander anymore im sick of it
I'm so mad at everyone who is mad at Shane's spouse room and i cant keep silent about it anymore
let me start by saying yes Shane was my first ever spouse in SDV and no i was not thinking i could fix him i was just impressed by his progress and self improvement so i had my character marry him
then i went online to see what are people saying about him and i was SHOCKED everyone was so mean to him and were absolutely wronggggggggggg about him
this man does improve himself he absolutely is better after marriage and everyone that's mischaracterizing that because of his spouse room is a coward sorry i don't make the rules
facts: Shane goes to therapy and starts getting his alcoholism under control by eliminating the source of his pain which is wasting his life away at joja and doing something he loves which is raise blue chickens THAT HE MADE MIGHT I ADD HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKENS BTW. that last point alone pisses me of so hard because people so often over look it! he is just as smart as Maru just as creative as Eliot and just as ambitious as Sam, let me repeat myself HE INVENTED A NEW BREED OF CHICKEN WHILE HE WAS DEPRESSED AND SUFFERING OF ALCOHOLISM.... recognize his brilliance please
so that means people saying he falls back into his old habits because he has a six pack in his room is wrong, imo he stops being an alcoholic and goes back to having drinking be a hobby he does while gaming or hanging out with friends at the bar THAT'S THE POINT UR SUPPOSED TO GET FROM HIS HEART EVENTS
yes his room has mud tracks but consider this this man's WHOLE JOB is to RAISE CHICKENS IN A COOP !!!!! chickens who again he literally invented their breed who track mud shit and drop feed on the floor of the coop he is in all day!!! OF FUCKING COURSE HES GONNA HAVE MUD ON HIS SHOES!!
he works all day for his blue chickens and then just wants to come in and relax playing a video game and drinking a beer if he was a horrible dirty alcoholic like people claim he is he would track mud ALL OVER THE HOUSE AND DIRTY UP ALL THE HOUSE but no its just his tiny hobby room
you as a farmer also work all day on chores and after you are done you also just wanna do something fun to relax and guess what YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERY ROOM IN THE HOUSE TO MAKE INTO YOUR HOBBY ROOM some of you fill the house with kegs because you are making it your thing hell one of my farmers who was a witch had an entire room that's just crystals potions and a fucking cauldron , in my Shane save i had a room LINED with fish tanks that was my farmers Hobby, do you think Shane gets mad that i had 4 to 6 fish tanks running all day with puffer fishes and some legendary fishes stinking up the house?? NO because he gets his hobby room and the farmer gets their hobby room everyone keeps to their space period.
i think everyone needs to understand that having a messy hobby room is not a bad thing and that Shane and the other spouses have a right to their own room to look however they want and it doesn't have to match the house
everyone also needs to look at Shane in a better light please I'm begging you to let characters have small flaws and not be squeaky clean perfect
Shane sought help he is helping himself and trying to be better but that doesn't mean he doesn't get to indulge in some guilty pleasures he is human and is aloud to be one even while still in recovery! the difference now is that he HAS CONTROL OVER ALCOHOL AND GAMING CONSUMPTION AND IS NOT SPIRALING OUT OF CONTROL LIKE BEFORE he has job he loves a family he takes care of and he makes sure he doesn't dirty up his entire house but gives himself a break in his ONE room and doesn't stop himself form having fun doing the things he enjoys without over indulging or falling into bad habits.
Edit: i know in the end the drinks are non alcoholic as confirmed by him and i mentioned beer and drinks cause i know there is non alcoholic Versions of them som.. but as i said im adressing the MISSCHARACTERIZATION of shane by the shane haters who didn't go through his heart events hence me saying "you are supposed to learn all this from his heart events" cause they dont go through them :D
Anyway,
in conclusion SHANE IS GOOD SPOUSE, a good man and an inventor in his own right. yall just need to be gentle to him in your judgment cause man is he trying his earnest and that needs to be recognized. i mean look at him look at this healthy man <3
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bettyfrommars · 1 month
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Death Becomes Us
Part 10: The Man Who Made a Monster
vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Fem!Reader
masterlist playlist
WC: 7.6k
18+ONLY, MDNI, mention of wounds, car accidents, a bit of body horror, angst, guns, gunshot wounds, reader gets physically hurt (but bounces right back), blood, drinking blood, allusions to smut, evil men, supernatural powers, a demobat fren, fear of the unknown, a fire, werewolf!Steve, Dr. Brenner. References to one of my favorite 80's shows, the Incredible Hulk with Lou Ferrigno, and mid-90's MTV. Tiny references to FOI that you won't even notice if you haven't read the book.
Summary: Eddie, Jareth, and Steve come to your rescue, but do you even need to be rescued? Bad men surface and reader finds strength she never knew she had. Eddie confesses more than one secret to us, and the tension is thick. Reader is called Dove as a nickname.
Author's Note: I covered quite a few bases in this chapter, but there is still a lot to explore in the next and final part. We get to see reader in action and get some much-deserved satisfaction. I 've been staring at it for so long, I really hope you have fun reading this, love you. As always, Jareth's face claim is Jamie Campbell Bower.
-----
this starts right where Part 9 left off
Eddie snatched his keys and shoved Steve out the door before he quickly put some food down for Dio and locked the dead bolt.  
Steve called shotgun in the air, vaulting over the hood like an extra from the movie Grease, making Jareth roll his eyes.  “Is he part werewolf or labrador?” Whispering under his breath to Eddie, but Eddie just nudged him out of the way.
Jareth paused on the opposite side of the Pontiac GTO.  “We should go on foot, it would be faster,” hinting to the lightning-speed with which vampires moved.
Eddie inclined his head to Steve.  “Not when we’ve got the pup with us.”
“Fuck you,” Steve sneered, brushing back a flop of hair from his forehead.  “I can keep up with you two geezers, trust me.”
“What if I just kill him and rid us of the dead weight,” Jareth grumbled.
“You can try,” Steve bit, growling deep in his chest.
“Enough!” Eddie snapped, swatting the top of the car with his hand.  “Everyone get in and hold the fuck on. We’re goin’ for a ride.”
—----
Heat scorched through your veins like lava, and as your eyes fluttered open, you passively wondered if the car was on fire, and you were about to be cooked alive.
But
You were no longer in the vehicle.  Squeezing your eyelids tight to find the memory, recollection came flooding back as your fingers curled into dirt, cheek pressed into the forest foliage.  There might have even been a pinecone acting as a pillow at your ear.  
The muscles in your arms and shoulders throbbed, not to mention the feeling of your skull being cracked open by a catastrophic neurological event.  A migraine to rival all migraines.
You remembered being taken…the conversation about Brenner…and Bela…
Bela!
You called her name, but it came out as nothing but a puff of air, a whine deep in your chest.  
What if she got hurt in the crash? What if she —
The crash!
Adrenaline flushed through you like a swarm of bees and you sat up, cracking your stiff neck as you went, and your head swam.  
Where the fuck were you?
A car passed a few yards away on the highway and you realized you’d been tossed into a ravine.  In the distance, the SUV you’d been kidnapped in was on its back and smoking as if something inside had caught fire.  Where was that awful witch and the man who was driving?
A memory of ripping the door off by its hinges and climbing out of the vehicle flashed behind your eyes, but that was impossible.  You must’ve been able to jump out and then hit your head or something. You weren’t turning green and ripping out of your clothes; you were no Lou Ferrigno.
You moved your legs to make sure they worked, and soon you were on your feet, using tufts of grass to crawl along as if you were about to fall off the earth.
In the distance, thunder rolled.
—----
“Turn here, take the shortcut!” Steve shot his hairy arm between the two seats, pointing to right after the stop sign.
“I know what I’m doing!” Eddie roared.  “Just sit the fuck back and stay cool.”
Eddie could feel you, and his heart was jackhammering in his chest.
He floored the gas, tires squealing as they ghosted the road, peeling down the old highway through the woods that barely anyone used anymore.  The velocity shot Steve back against his seat, and Jareth’s fingers dug into the console while music from Sisters of Mercy blared from the stereo. 
“We’re close,” Eddie lowered his chin, laser focused on the scene ahead of him.  He could feel that familiar static fill his body whenever he was in your vicinity.  
You were not the first human whose blood he’d tasted, not by a long shot.  In fact, for the first few years after he’d been made vampire, he didn’t care about  himself or anyone else, and it seemed there wasn’t a willing human in a 100 mile radius that he hadn’t tasted.
But with you, it wasn’t even about your blood.
You made him feel a certain type of way that he’d been missing for over a decade, perhaps even his whole life.
The clouds trembled, and a crackle of lightning shot a silent burst of light through the midnight sky. All three of them could smell the wreck before it was ever in view, and Eddie released his foot on the gas to slow down a bit.
—---
You stumbled onto the main highway, and the headlights came at you too fast to understand what was happening.  
Everything was so bright, it hurt your eyes. It made you swipe your hands in the air and groan, fighting the illumination as if it were a tangible enemy. 
The car coming at you screeched on its brakes, twisting to the side so that it wouldn’t hit you, skidding sideways.
In a blink, you recognized the stunned faces on the other side of the windshield.
—---
The other two men in the car didn’t see that it was you at first—but Eddie knew.  He’d witnessed those shock white eyes before, void of color or pupil.
Electricity snapped off you, as if  you were a live wire. It crackled and skipped off of your skin like the lightning that appeared above them in the sky.
One of your arms was twisted unnaturally backwards at the elbow, but you somehow flexed the joint back into place as you stood there, correcting your posture.  You stood on one side of  your foot as if your ankle was broken, but then that righted itself with a sickening twist.  Your limbs jerked like the walking dead trying to move for the first time after reanimation.  All of this, and yet your face appeared unphased, as if you were impervious to the pain.
Your face was set in surprise and fear and confusion, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest to be able to hold you.
With a curse, he slammed the GTO to a halt, tires burning rubber as they locked and skidded on the asphalt.  
Something told him you were fairly invincible, just like him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.  
Steve slid across the backseat, knocking his head on impact, and Jareth’s fingers dug so deep into the console that they left puncture marks.  
Eddie didn’t have time to think about what the other two were doing or the danger of leaving his car in the middle of the highway, he threw the gear into park and jumped out to check on you.
From above, there came a loud squawking, and Bela soared down from where she’d been circling in the sky to land on your shoulder with a weight that almost made you lose your balance.
—-----
Bela bared her teeth and screeched at whoever was approaching from the vehicle.  The headlights were too bright, and your ear canals were on fire with hot noise.  A loud, shrill ringing filled your skull cavity like sharp a million tiny pinpricks.
But then you recognized his silhouette
You’d know  it anywhere
“Eddie?”
“It’s me,” he assured you.  “Are you hurt?”
Bela settled once she knew it was him, lowering her wings, and his body came to block the light so that you could see the distress in his face.  He reached a hand out to touch your arm, but then he yanked it back with a hiss.  It was like you’d given him an electrical shock, with volts like those from a cattle prod or taser.  
“I didn’t mean to do that,” you hesitated, hoping he’d dare to touch you again. 
And he did, rushing closer without pause, not caring about how bad the last one stung. He cupped one hand at your jaw while the other went to your hip, searching your mouth for temptation's sake.  “Let’s get you home.”
He got zapped a few more times from seemingly stray sparks, in the chest and the side, making him wince, but he did not relent.  It was a good thing the violent stabbing did not force him back, because just then your knees gave out and you slumped into his arms. Bela took to the sky again before landing on the hood of the GTO with another high pitched wail, wings spanning out as if she were about to conduct an orchestra.
Eddie dropped to his knees on the ground next to you, careful to protect your head from the pavement with his hand.  In wolf form, Steve trotted over to nudge your face with his snout and lick your cheek with a whimper.
“She’ll be okay,” Eddie took his jacket off and made it into a pillow for you, before angling to sink his fangs into his own wrist.  “She needs blood.”
“Use mine,” Jareth hovered nearby, and you could vaguely hear them arguing as your adrenaline crashed.  “I’m older, my blood is stronger.”
“No,” Eddie growled, and then the two bared their teeth at each other.  
Eddie knew that, more than anything, Jareth wanted to be in  your head, to be linked to you in the same way he was.  To know where you were at all times and for you to have…those special dreams about him.  No way in hell would Eddie let that happen.
He’d already punctured a vein and had his tattooed wrist over your mouth, leaking his life force into your trembling lips until you were able to latch on and suck.  
Jareth’s stare bore into Eddie.  “Maybe I should tell her you’re the reason Brenner knew about her in the first place.”
Eddie glared at him.  “You don’t know fuck about it.”
Jareth smirked.  “I know more than you think about the little ‘job’ you were hired to do for him.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he shushed him. “This isn’t the place for this, Jareth.”
A car had to navigate around the GTO to continue down the old highway, and the person shouted their disapproval, but then the driver slowed once he spotted you on the ground and the SUV that was rolled over on its side in the distance.
Jareth and Eddie turned to him and hissed with their fangs out, glaring at him with obsidian eyes, until he slammed on the gas and sped off in the direction he was headed.  Steve growled and chased after the car, keeping up with it for a while before hanging back to sniff around the wreckage that you’d managed to somehow survive.  
You mumbled, gurgling on a spurt of blood, and Eddie took his wrist away.  Your eyes were closed, but your tongue flicked out to lick more of his essence from your stained lips.  Were you conscious enough to know what they were talking about? He’d planned on telling you everything, but the time was never right.  He never expected things to get so…messy.  Never expected you’d become so…special to him.  
Some rich dude offers you to keep an eye on someone for a couple weeks for an abnormally huge chunk of cash, you do it.  He’d had no skin in the game when he initially accepted the offer.  
Caring about you as much as he did was the last fucking thing he’d expected to happen, but he didn’t know how to make it stop.
Jareth leaned over you to get closer to Eddie.  “If you don’t tell her soon, I will, and your little fairytale will be over.”
All Eddie could do was grind his teeth: Jareth was right, he should’ve explained the whole thing to you that night when he’d waited for you to get back from your date with Steve.  But by then, he was afraid he’d lose you.
Yet, how could you lose someone you never had?
“We need to get out of here,” Eddie eased you into a sitting position, your head flopped, and then held your chin in his hand.  Your eyelids were fluttering and your skin was beginning to cool as the healing properties of his blood took effect.  
God, how badly he wanted to press his lips to yours.
“What about the witch?” Jareth stood to full height to look over and see Steve sniffing around the crash. “What if they survived?”
Eddie had you off your feet and lifted in his arms by then, but Jareth was right.  As much as he wanted to get you far away from there, he’d watched enough horror movies to know that you never turned your back on a killer until you knew they were dead.  Knocking them unconscious with the back of a shovel wasn’t enough; you had to chop their whole head off and throw them in a cement mixer.
Steve morphed back into human form halfway back to the group, butt naked again, to report back on what he’d found.
Eddie waited for him to announce that there was no one in the vehicle and the bodies were gone…
But instead, Steve shook his head.  “Looks like they didn’t survive.  His neck is broken and she’s—-”
“Are you sure?” Jareth blurted with an air of irritation. “Maybe I should check for myself.”
“I think I know what a dead body smells like, asshole,” Steve grunted, pushing back on Jareth’s chest.
The headlights of another car was approaching, and Eddie reiterated that they needed to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime. He threw the keys to Jareth, and made Steve sit in front so that he could crawl into the back with you while you healed.  Bela billowed into the sky and hovered there, waiting to see where they were taking you so she could follow.  
It wasn’t his blood that healed your broken foot or your fractured arm though—you’d done that all by yourself.  Maybe you didn’t need him after all, maybe you’d be better off without him.
“Put your pants back on,” Eddie tossed the clothing from the back seat over to Steve.  “I don’t need you teabagging the upholstery.”
Next to him, you had your head on Eddie’s shoulder and your hand on his thigh when Jareth sped off just in time to miss being clipped by the oncoming semi truck.  It blared its horn just as you lifted your head to look up at Eddie with groggy eyes.
He licked his lips, feeling his throat close up at how near your face was to his.
“Did you save me?” Your voice was strained, sounding like your esophagus was constricted.
Eddie put his hand over yours and you interlaced fingers.  “I think you saved yourself,” he mumbled.  “You don’t need me.”
“I do,” you said it so fast, and he leaned over even more, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you correctly.  “I do need you.”
Your hand in his, he brought it up to his chest, searching your eyes as an avalanche of words trembled at the tip of his tongue, right there wanting to roll out like a carpet of devotion to you.  
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves because he was shaking so fucking bad.
Jareth caught his eye in the rearview mirror and the two glared at each other before Eddie broke contact and wrapped another arm around your shoulders to bring you closer.  “We’re almost home,” he hushed, planting his lips to your forehead, blushing at the way you refused to let go of his hand.  “I won’t leave you.”
—----
By the time you got back to the trailer park, your energy and strength had been fortified and you urged everyone to go home to let you get some rest, except for Eddie, who’s hand you were still holding as you got out of the car.
The witch and her companion being dead felt too good to be true, and a measure of palpable dread hung in the air.  It was unspoken knowledge that Brenner was still after you, and he knew exactly where you lived.  
Jareth stepped forward, tipping your chin up with the crook of his finger.  “Are you sure you don’t need anything, love?”
“She has me,” Eddie growled.
Jareth fluttered his eyelids in that bored way he’d mastered.  “If you’re so concerned, we’d be better off at Sacrament.  I can keep her safe there more sufficiently than she’d be in this…” he fanned his hand around a few times, “...this place.”
Bela landed on the railing with a swoosh and squawked.
“I hate to say it, after everything,” you angled toward the steps, exhausted.  “But I don’t think this Brenner person is going to stop until he gets what he wants.” You glanced sideways at Eddie. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”
“I’d like to meet this guy myself,” Steve said through gritted teeth.  
Jareth flipped the collar of his coat up and ran a hand through his golden hair.  “Well, my offer stands.  Sacrament is at your service if you should require shelter or protection.”
“Sounds good,” Eddie said dismissively, reaching for the railing to cage you away from the two men. “We’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, Jareth,” you told him, and he winked at you, returning the genuine curve of your smile.
And Eddie hated it so much, he wouldn't have been surprised if steam were coming out of his ears like a cartoon villain.
But he let it slide because Jareth could make things fucking awkward in that moment if he wanted to.  
You turned to Steve.  “Would you like to come in? I don’t have much by way of food, but—”
“He’s fine,” Eddie answered for him.
The two glared at each other for a beat, but then Steve relented.  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.  Still, I think I’ll stick around for a while, check the perimeter,” he ignored the tick in Eddie’s jaw and waved at you as he backed up to disappear around the backside of the trailer. 
“Hey Harrington, my vest!” Eddie shouted, and it wasn’t long before the denim came sailing through the air to land on the dead lawn near the porch.  Eddie bent to pick it up with a huff, and by then Jareth had disappeared into the night.
Now you were finally alone, and as much as it was what he wanted, it made his stomach drop.
Eddie paced the living room a bit before taking a seat, perching precariously at the end of the sofa to bounce his knee and gnaw at his bottom lip.  
“Listen,” you took a beer and a half-full bottle of NuBlood out of the fridge to put it in the microwave for him.  “I figure there’s no use asking you to leave with people obviously hunting me down, but I really need to take a shower.  So just…make yourself at home I suppose?”
The microwave dinged and you walked the warm glass bottle over, and then waited for him to wrap his hand around it, fingers grazing yours, before you spoke. “I feel like there are some things we should talk about.”
Eddie was already nodding. “I’d like that,” he gulped.
Eddie waited until he heard the shower running before he sank down into the cushion and used the remote to turn the TV on.  He needed to distract himself from letting his mind wander to how you were absolutely undressing in there, about to be naked and wet and…
He squirmed in his seat and turned the volume up.  It was an MTV music video for Metallica’s Until it Sleeps, but he only vaguely cared as he puffed his cheeks for a forceful exhale. In his head, he practiced what he would say, how he would beg your forgiveness, and how he never really understood what this guy Brenner was all about until it was too late…
In the shower, you made the water as hot as you could handle it, leaning into the burn, and stood there for the longest time without moving. Eyes closed, you could feel Eddie step into the shower behind you, sneaking his hands around to pluck at your nipples.  “Room for one more?” He rumbled in your ear, just before he nibbled it.
He wasn’t really there, but you couldn’t help but touch yourself with a soapy hand as if he were, biting your lip around a moan.
The water ran cold by the time you were ready to step out, swooshing the curtain aside with a swift swipe of your arm.  
The thump of something heavy falling to the ground out in the living room had you straining to hear what it might’ve been as you pulled a clean t-shirt and jeans on.  Music videos were on, playing In the Blood by Better Than Ezra, and you called Eddie’s name.
The only response you got was from Bela, and she let out one long screech that felt like it had the power to break glass.
“Eddie?” You shouted this time, flinging the door open to let the steam roll out and fill the hallway. “Bela??”
The door to your trailer was wide open, but Bela was there, scrambling from the back of the couch to perch on your shoulder the second you came into view. 
“What happened?” You asked your demobat companion.  “He just left us here? Without a word?”
The potted terracotta plant that had once been above the TV right by the door was on the carpet, shattered.  
You crossed your arms over your chest, and shivered as you stepped one foot out on the porch to look around, a chill breeze nipping at your flesh.  “Eddie? Are you out here? Steve?”
The whole court was eerily silent, even the crickets and frogs were holding their breath.
You backed up into the house, pulling the door shut.
The TV screen went from MTV to static, and you stepped back to stare at it while Bela swished her tentacles around nervously, leaving red, raised scratches on your arm and neck.  She was heavy, but you’d gotten used to her weight and hitched our shoulder up to accommodate.
The static changed to the image of a man standing before a black backdrop.  He was tall and thin, wearing a business suit with a full head of silver hair. 
“Hello Dove,” the man on your TV said.
He was looking right at you.
You glanced around for a weapon, but as if he could read your mind he said.  “No need for that, I don’t want to hurt you.”  He was handsome in a “trust me”, evil doctor kind of way, but the last thing you felt like giving him was your trust.
“What did you do to Eddie?” It felt stupid, talking to an electronic device as if it were a person, but that was the situation you’d found yourself in.  
Brenner said nothing, but you got a bad feeling and swallowed to wet your dry mouth before taking cautions steps over to the window facing his trailer to peel back the blinds.
But you could already see the flames inside, and just then, you smelled the smoke.
His trailer
It was on fire.
“Nononono no,” You chanted, charging for the door.  
“Come with me quietly,” the man on the TV said, calmly. “Or your vampire boyfriend will meet the final death.”
You halted in your tracks, glaring down at the older man, nostrils flaring with anger.  “Come with you? Where are you hiding?” You chided; hands balled into fist as you cocked your head. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
Brenner looked down before meeting your eyes again.  “Your father underestimated the capacity for your powers.  I don’t plan to make the same mistake.”
“How did you know my father?” You barked.
Outside, one of Eddie’s windows blew out, glass shattering everywhere, and his curtains went up in flames.
You ran outside and flew down the steps before the man's voice could stop you.  Dio, Eddie’s cat, ran by to hide under your trailer.  
Maybe Eddie had gone in like a crazy person to save some photos or something, and somehow, he’d gotten trapped in there.   Bela took to the sky while you rushed to his door.
But then there he was, staggering out on a dark cloud of smoke, holding an electric guitar in his hand.
“My sweetheart,” he held it up.  “I couldn’t let her burn.”
He was smiling at you from the top of his steps, dimples popping, and you could help but mirror it, flooded with relief.  He really didn’t care that his whole place was burning, as long as he had Dio, his guitar, and you.
He’d lost much more in his life to a fire once when he was younger, so this one wouldn't sting half as bad.  
And it suddenly didn’t matter that some creepy old dude could somehow talk to you through your TV: Eddie was okay.  
But then something else happened. 
He took the first step, never taking his eyes off of you, but something knocked his shoulder back, like an invisible punch.  
And then another and another
The smile on his face quivered and his forehead creased, trying to understand what was happening.
He tucked his chin to look at his torso, and your eyes followed.
Dark blooms were appearing on his shirt like liquid spilled from an inkwell.  On his chest, over his heart, from his stomach.  
He stumbled down the last two steps and then fell to his knees, dropping the guitar so that he could brace himself with his hand.
Had Eddie been shot?
You didn’t have time to figure that out.  Some strange voice in your head told you there was a chance the trailer could explode—or maybe you’d watched too many movies—but you had to get him away from there.  He was a vampire, and even if he had been shot, he could heal, but you weren't sure how he would survive his body being blown to bits.  
The next thing you knew, you were carrying him, much like he’d carried you in his arms earlier.  You didn't need to summon the insane strength; it was just there. There was that buzzing in your skull, and you could feel violent sparks crackling through your muscles.
Everyone was coming out of their trailers at that point, and Dolores was screaming frantically into her phone wearing a nightshirt and curlers in her hair.  You didn’t know how long it would take for the fire department to get there, or if there was a possibility that the wreckage would spread to the other trailers.
You put Eddie down on the other side of your hearse and leaned him back against the tire to find there was blood trickling from his mouth, but he still tried to grin at you.
“See,” he sputtered.  “You’re like a superhero.  You don’t need me.”
“But I do,” tears clouded your eyes while another window blew out from the trailer.  You put your forehead to his and your lips brushed together.  “Please, don’t leave me.  Eddie I—”
“The bullets,” he winced.  “They’re silver.  My body can’t reject them.”
There were three or four different holes in him there that were steaming as the silver burned him from the inside.  You cupped your hand on his jaw, and he grabbed your wrist, turning his head to kiss your palm.  
“Here, take my blood—” 
You yanked your shirt down to give him your pulsing jugular, but all of a sudden you were forced back by some unseen force, flying through the air until you landed ass first in the gravel and skidded to a stop, rolling over to find yourself face first at the feet of someone wearing a pair of black, shiny shoes and slacks.
“Dove,” a familiar, deep voice said. “We meet again.”
You pushed back, scuttling away to find that it was the man from your TV; he was standing in your trailer park.  Flanked by two menacing looking men with bald, tattooed heads, wearing sunglasses.  Each of them in suits and ties as if they were the actual Men in Black.  
“I don’t know you,” you grumbled, getting to your feet that were bare and bleeding, but healing rapidly. You checked around each shoulder cautiously to see that there was a handful of other men in suits, all of them holding guns, and then a tall guy with a scalp of strawberry stubble, no more than 20, in a red jumpsuit. The guy had his chin down, eyes pinned on you as if he might shoot lasers from them.
His expression was deceivingly kind.  “My name is Martin Brenner.  I met you before you died the first time,” he said casually.
“You see, your father and I used to be friends,” he walked a circle around you, before coming front and center again.  “He stole valuable information from my laboratory in order to bring you back.  You're my property as well, but he decided to keep you from me.”  
“My father never mentioned you,” was all you could say.  In your peripheral vision, you could tell the others were inching close.
“We could’ve been so great together, Dove.  Imagine your contribution to science.  And you would not be so uncertain about your powers,” he stepped back to gesture at the boy in the red jumpsuit.  “I want to introduce you to Kane.  He was reanimated the same way you were, but under my expertise and supervision.”
Kane had a railroad scar on his forehead, and a hand that was a different skin color than the rest of his body.  It wasn’t just a different skin tone; it was a body part from an entirely different person.
You thought about all of the love you were raised with, and though your dad fumbled the ball on attentiveness quite a bit, you never doubted how much he cared for you.  You were beginning to understand that maybe he didn’t explain what abilities you might have because it would lead you back to Brenner somehow.
The surge of power was growing inside of you, and instead of pushing it down, you let it grow and churn and spill out, creating a type of electrical force field around your body, a vibrating aura of protection.
“Show her what you can do, Kane,” Brenner said.
Not sure what to expect, you watched Kane rubbed his hands together, creating a bright bolt of lightning from the friction, his eyes went milk white, and then he shot an arm out towards the nearest hulking security guard, palm open, and it sent the man in black off his feet, sailing back as if he were hugging an invisible beach ball.  He smacked into the side of the opposite neighbor’s trailer with a bone to metal thwack.  
Your eyes were fixed for too long on the man slumped in the gravel, and when you turned to face Kane again, he was a few steps closer, peering through his lashes at you with an evil twitch of his lips.
Apparently, you were the next example in his bag of tricks.  
Your feet were off the ground before you could process another thought, catching air like a rag doll only to drop down and skid face first into the cold, dry earth.  
Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, eh? Lifting into a push up position, you spat dirt and blood from your mouth with a curse.
Gathering yourself up and into a crouch, you vaguely heard Eddie call your name, but he was still rendered temporarily helpless by the silver, and your head was spinning.  Not so much from confusion and fear this time, but more…anger.
You nailed Kane with a heated look, and then your hand lashed out in his direction, though he was yards away, and actual sparks flew from your palm, spitting like fireworks.
Kane was pummeled in the gut with a force he obviously wasn’t expecting, and you kept going before he could find his footing again, knocking him down before he could raise a hand at you again..
“How does that feel?” You bit, towering over him. 
In a heartbeat, you lifted Kane’s limp body above your head with a roar that you could not believe came from your own mouth.  Arching back, you aimed to drop him over the nearby trailer hitch, which would surely break his back, if not kill him, but then you remembered who you were and faltered.
Blinking, trying to quiet the buzzing in your skull, you knew you did not want to kill this boy.
You understood, even under such duress, that he was only doing what he was told.  
But Brenner was actually applauding you, pupils blown from the intensity, urging you to keep going, to murder this stranger at his bidding.  
You could’ve very easily ended up just like Kane, if not for the love and protection of your father.  
Heaving, trying to calm yourself, you threw Kane’s body in the opposite direction, so that he landed on flat ground that would absolutely hurt, but he’d be able to walk away.  
Brenner beamed at you like a parent watching their child take their first steps.  “You’re stronger than I’d imagined.  Your powers have somehow increased since your inception, and I’d love to know why.”
You squared up with him, making him step back to avoid the sparks actively snapping off of you.  “What do you want from me?”
You didn’t have to look to know that all of the guns were trained on you.  
“I want you to work for me, Dove. We could change the world together, you and I.”
It felt like he was trying to sell you a car, not asking to hook you up to electrodes and make you his own personal soldier.  
“Never,” you were calm now, and you wanted nothing to do with this man or whatever he thought he could do for you.
The flames went higher on the trailer, and in the distance, wails of a fire engine could be heard.  
You caught sight of Eddie, but he was flat on the ground now and no longer sitting up.
You rushed by Brenner, slamming into his shoulder as you went, but two of the guards caught you by the arms.  It felt like they were stronger than normal men, and when they bared their fangs, you realized they were vampires.
Growling, you flung them off of you, and they went stumbling back as if they weighed nothing, as if you were suddenly impervious to their supernatural strength.
“Kill the boyfriend,” you heard Brenner bark at the men.  “Use the wooden bullets this time.”
A gun cocked, and you ran a few steps, but then vaulted over Eddie’s body, arms wide, using yours as a shield.
You felt the bullet impact like a dagger in your back, but it was as if it bounced off somehow instead of penetrating.  Eddie barked in pain as you covered him, but then he clung to you as you rolled him under the hearse, away from the gunfire.  
Caging yourself on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, and stomachs touching, you could feel how weak he was; the silver enabled his body from healing, and you had to find a way to get them out.  
You watched the feet of the one with the wooden bullets approach the vehicle, thinking of your next move when Eddie whispered into the side of your neck: “You’re so fucking beautiful—”
If this was the end for him, this was how he wanted to spend it: with you, being able to see your face one last time.  
Before you could respond, there came a shrill, tortured scream, and the booted feet you had your eye on stumbled back.
More agonizing screams, until the body in question dropped to the ground, limbs writhing, and you could see that Bela had attached herself to his head like an Alien facehugger.  
Only because he was a vampire, he was able to pull her off, but she took most of his flesh and his nose off with her.  
Bela took to the sky again, out of view, and they aimed their guns up at her.
“Not so fast, boys,” a new voice rumbled from the shadows. “I want to play, too.”
Eddie’s shallow breaths moving under you, it was all you could do not to cheer out loud when you realized the voice belonged to Jareth.
And apparently, Jareth brought friends; enough to fill the entire courtyard.
They were crouching on the roofs, on cars, everywhere.
Brenner and his crew were surrounded; Bela had gone to get help.  
In the woods, a pack of wolves howled their attendance as well.  
Jareth pierced the closest vampire in the heart with a wooden stake and he exploded, guts flying everywhere.  
As far as the human bodyguards went, the rest was a bloodbath.  
From what you were told later, Kane ran, and Brenner tried to get behind the wheel of the SUV, but instead he was dragged into the war zone and drained dry before being ripped limb from limb. 
Jareth wanted to keep the doctor in his dungeon to torture him, but a few of the vampires knew of Brenner and the experiments he’d done on their kind over the years.  It was all nothing short of sadistic torture, keeping them barely alive so that he could run experiments on them over time and sell their blood for a profit.
They’d been wanting to get their hands on him for a long time.
—-----
By the time the rescue team and fire truck showed up, all of the vampires had evaporated into the shadows, and you’d snuck Eddie up into your bedroom, carrying most of his weight as he was only able to hobble.  You collected his guitar as well, and brought Dio inside, since those were the only two things from the burning wreckage, he voiced a care about.  With the lights out and the curtains closed, you used a modest bedside reading lamp to assess the damage.  While you were concentrating on him, his eyes never left your face, his heart bursting. 
“You might have to suck them out,” he cleared his throat.  “The bullets I mean.  I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
“You mean, weirder than all of the other shit that happened tonight?” You mumbled, coming back from washing your hands.  There was still dirt caked under your nails, possibly some blood, but whatever.
“Good point.”
Until you got the bullets out, any blood you gave him would be useless, so without another moment of hesitation, you crawled up on the bed, springs bouncing, and knelt next to his torso, bracing a hand at either side of him. He was burning up around the sight of each wound, and the skin sizzled as the alloy continued to roast him alive.  
The first one was at the surface and came out fast, hot metal on your tongue.  The next one, under his right nipple, was deeper and you had to suck harder, making Eddie’s toes curl.  You spit each out onto the floor, and strings of his blood mingled in your saliva.
One hand behind his head, the other rested at his hip with a thumb in his belt loop.  “So, you’re like…the incredible Hulk, but with powers.  That’s pretty badass.”
“I don’t know what I am,” you scoffed, sucking out another, and then pausing to watch the openings seal up and heal.  “I’m a waitress, that’s all.  That’s all I want to be.”
He nodded, musing on how many times he’d wished he could go back and not be a vampire. He wanted to tell you the story of when he was reborn, but that could wait for another time.  Now it was time to put some very messy cards on the table. 
The last bullet was deep, and you had to swirl your tongue around in the hole to loosen it.
“I have something I need to tell you,” he blurted while your lips were near his belly button.
“Mmmhmm?”
Fuck, here it goes…
“First, I just want to say that I had no idea who this Brenner guy was before, like, a few months ago,” his next swallow felt like he was chugging a grapefruit. “If I’d have known what a creep, he was I never would’ve…”
You stopped what you were doing to raise your head, waiting for him to finish, the final bit of silver still lodged in his abdomen. “You knew of Brenner? Before all this?”
He couldn’t look at you, he had to stare at the ceiling.  
“Uh, yeah, that first week you were here, he tracked me down at the chop shop and said he’d pay me a shit ton of money to keep an eye on you. I didn’t ask a lot of questions.  As far as I knew, you were his long-lost daughter, or some shit and he wanted to make sure you were safe.”
You sat back on your knees, trying to let that sink in.
He lifted up to brace himself on an elbow, wincing at the sting of the remaining bullet.  “I didn’t know you then, that was before we were…” he fumbled with what he wanted to call you and what you actually were, “...a friend.”  
“So,” you frowned down at your hands.  “You’re the reason I was kidnapped tonight? The reason all of this happened?”  Your wide eyes snapped to him.  “Did you set me up?”
He sliced his hand in the air a few times, shaking his head vigorously.  “No..nope…I had nothing to do with any of this,” he pleaded.  “I only reported back to him for a couple of weeks, and then I stopped, really.  After that night I first took you to Sacrament, I told him I was too busy to—”
All of the horrific memories were rushing back to you.  “What about the Klemp’s? Did you pay them to hurt me or something? So that I’d have to drink your blood and let you into my head?”
Eddie spoke so fast; he stuttered over his words.  “No, absolutely not, never! I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I would never let anyone hurt you like that.”
“But they did hurt me,” you muttered.
Now it was you who couldn’t look at him, working your jaw muscles as you tried to decide which emotion you should be feeling.
“Why should I even believe you?” Your voice was small.
“Please believe me I—”
“If you knew this guy was stalking me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? If you’re as concerned for my welfare as you claim to be?”
You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry or scream; maybe both.
Eddie didn’t have a chance to answer.  You were on your feet at the end of the bed with your arms crossed.  
Suddenly, you were shaking, and you couldn’t control it. “After Sacrament, I didn’t see you for a long time, it felt like you were avoiding me.  Was that because you no longer had to fake interest in me for your scam?”
Eddie pushed himself up into a seated position, blinking back the memory of how painfully hard it had been to stay away from you for all that time.  “No, you have to trust me, that had nothing to do with—”
“Trust you?” You barked a sarcastic laugh.  “Tell me why then? Why avoid me for so long, huh? Because you weren’t getting paid to—”
Eddie’s voice wavered and he spoke in a rush.  “Because I started to have feelings for you, that’s why. Happy? Because ever since that first day I saw you, you’re all I can fucking think about.  Because I can’t even look at another woman without seeing your face, and believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve gotten real good at disappointing people and leaving people behind, and all I know is, I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Your lips parted to say something, but he figured what the hell, he might as well scare you all the way off while he was at it.
He relaxed his shoulders and wet his lips. “I never told you that I was made vampire against my will.  I died and was brought back, but my heart went cold, and I never thought I’d feel anything for anyone ever again.  I didn’t want to feel anything.  I should’ve stayed dead, I wanted to be with all of the people I’d lost…”
His suede brown eyes sought your face.  “When I’m with you, I don’t feel dead anymore. When I think about you, I feel fragile and human again.  Like maybe I’ve got something worth giving away.”
Silence filled the room like helium in a balloon about to burst.  
He’d gone for broke, and there was nowhere left to hide. He was officially at your feet, where he’d always been.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered when you didn’t respond right away. “I get it.”
You tilted your head all the way back to stare at the ceiling.
“I dream about you every night,” you admitted on an exhale. “Logically I know it has to do with ingesting your blood, but it’s…it’s more than that.”
He bit at the inside of his cheek, picking at a thread on the comforter.  “Every night, huh?”
You gave a few slow nods, and you could almost hear the smile pull across his teeth. 
“Yeah, so, blood induced dreaming should only happen a handful of times after it’s ingested,” he said, shifting in his seat. 
You kept nodding, since that was something you’d already suspected.  “The dreams are always so vivid, I wake up…”
He dared to finish for you after a long pause. “Wanting more?”
“No,” you corrected, turning to face him.  “I wake up wishing they were real.”
----
I la la la love you all who have reached out to me about this story and continue to cheer it on. Comments, reblogs, and asks about this world mean everything to me.
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stobinesque · 1 year
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talking could, if we'd just dare (you know that i'll forgive you), pt. 1
@steddie-week day 6: misunderstandings / "You Lookin' at Me Lookin' at You" by Ozzy Osbourne | ~5.5k words | G or T inspired by this post from @inklessletter!
If Eddie was being honest, he’d never actually paid that much attention to Steve Harrington. Sure, it was impossible not to know of him. But for most of his life it had simply been…unimportant, to know about the various goings on of the Class of ‘85’s royal court. Harrington was rich, a bit of a bitch, and kept company with other rich bitches, and so Eddie neatly categorized him with all the other pretty, rich jocks, and went about his day. Life was easier when there was an order to such things. Keep the smalltown, upper-middle class heroes to one side, and the freaks and degenerates to the other, and everyone could live in an uneasy sort of harmony until they walked the stage and left this rathole behind.
Of course, repeating senior year thrice had put a wrench in that plan.
Meanwhile, Dustin Henderson had thrown the whole damn toolbox into the whole not-paying-attention-to-one-Steven-MiddleName-Harrington plan.
And whatever the fuck was going on now had just blown everything out of the water. 
(Or into the water, as the case may be—except the freaky parallel hellscape they’d all dove into seemed to be utterly devoid of the substance, so maybe the original metaphor worked just fine.)
So now he had to contend with the fact that Steve Harrington was a) a pretty nice dude to recent victims of smalltown witch-hunts who had just been thrust into what was apparently a years-long government conspiracy involving monsters and mind-controlling wizards, b) a bit of a dork, c) friends with a whole bunch of dorks, most of whom were four or five years younger than him, d) admirably—though perhaps self-destructively—protective of said dorks, e) just as much of a badass as Henderson claimed, and, most distressingly: f) extremely hot while doing so. 
The being a protective badass part, not all the other ones.
(The other parts Eddie was retroactively filing under “adorable,” and “cute.”)
The expression Steve got on his face when Eddie lobbed his battle vest at him was also priceless, so at that point Eddie figured, fuck it. What did he have to lose from some harmless flirting? The chances of him making it out the other side of this both alive and un-incarcerated were dwindling by the second, and it’s not like he ran any risk of things going anywhere. (Harrington might be a good dude, and alternate dimensions and monsters and superpowers apparently existed, but Steve Harrington being anything other than a straight man with Traditional American Values™ strained credulity—and the Munson Doctrine—far past any acceptable limit.) 
After all, if there was one thing that Eddie had actually learned from D&D, it was that a little bit of flirting and fun could take the sting out of any TPK.
🦇🦇🦇
If Steve was being honest with himself—which he’d been making a concerted effort to try to do since fall of ‘84—he could admit that his…jealousy…of Munson predated Dustin joining Hellfire. His whole climbing-on-cafeteria-tables schtick was kind of obnoxious, sure. But up until he’d wound up flunking his first try at senior year, Eddie'd had this sort of dorky-but-cool aura that Steve wished he was apathetic enough about other people’s opinions to achieve.
For a man who seemed to genuinely believe he was a coward, Eddie Munson was so…loudly and unapologetically himself. In Hawkins, Indiana—a place that quite literally wanted to kill him for how much of a freak he was. And, sure, some of that came down to the whole wanted-for-murder thing. But the man had also spent the better part of the past twelve hours flirting with a former jock—whom Eddie himself admitted to thinking was a douche up until a couple days ago!—so Steve had the sneaking suspicion that there was probably a corner of the town that already had it out for Munson long before Chrissy Cunningham’s body was found in his trailer.
And it wasn’t that Steve wanted to get into metal, or that Dragons game, or start wearing hand-printed t-shirts and attaching his wallet to a chain. He just wished that even after all the years of monsters, and government threats, and Russian torture, he didn’t still feel the need to hold himself to standards set by other people. 
If anyone was a coward, it was Steve.
And there was something kind of…nice—reassuring, even—about the fact that Eddie seemed to feel the same way—but in reverse—about him. Like together maybe they could take the bravest parts of the other and make them their own.
And underneath it all, Steve could admit, was the fact that Eddie was…pretty. 
So. Steve was having a bit of a crisis
“Robin, I’m having a crisis.” 
“We’re all having a crisis, dingus,” she shot back, slapping at his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“No— no, not that.” Steve started emptying one of the bottles of vodka they’d procured into the half-dead grass. “I’m talking about the whole—” Steve waved a hand over towards where Eddie and Dustin were horsing around. “The Eddie thing.”
“Oh, you mean the fact that he’s been blatantly flirting with you since you got eaten by bats?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Robin, I’m talking about the blatant flirting.”
“And…why is that causing a crisis?”
Steve fish-mouthed at her. “B-because…” He leaned forward with a finger held aloft, ready to waggle it in her face. He paused. Frowned. “Well, because…” Steve threw up his hands. “I don’t know! A few days ago the man thought I was a douche. Literally just yesterday he was, like, hot-and-cold trying to throw me at Nancy, while also ogling my chest hair, and now he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and trying to get into my personal space? It doesn’t make sense, Robin!”
“Welcome to the club, buddy.” She raised her brows at him pointedly. And, yeah, that was fair, he guessed.
“And,” He started again, “And– I’ve also got Henderson insisting that I win Nancy back—he does seem to have finally dropped the whole are-you-secretly-dating-Robin thing, though, which—”
“Oh, thank god.”
“Yeah. But, on top of that Nancy has also been making eyes at me, but she’s still with Jonathan so I don’t know what to do about that. And it’s all just a mess, Robs! I’m a mess.”
“Yeah, well, that’s been true for ages, Stevie.”
“Thanks, Robin. That’s very helpful.”
“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to tell me that I’ve got to ‘be myself,’ and put myself out on a limb with Vickie, while you’re out gallivanting with Helen or Jackie or whoever—”
“Heidi—”
“Whatever.” Robin waved her hand dismissively. “My point is: you keep throwing yourself at all of these girls who only know the old you—even if you’re trying to give them the new-and-improved model—and you haven’t even tried to go after a guy, and I think we both know why. And now you’ve hit the jackpot of what every tragic gay teenager in smalltown America can only dream of: you’ve got someone blatantly, and undeniably into you, who you also like back, and you’re telling me that you’re having a crisis? Need I remind you of the tableau we were treated to back at The War Zone?”
Steve sighed. “I know, Robs. You’re right.” Steve jammed a funnel into the neck of the bottle he was working on, and the two of them kept building molotov cocktails in the dying evening light, as Steve tried to reassure Robin that she still had a chance with Vickie—which she did, and Robin took his mind off his own impending disaster. But, if Steve had even a shadow of a chance of getting to hook up with a guy, Robin deserved to have a romance of her own. As much as Robin was afraid to see it, Steve was pretty sure he recognized that conflicted look Vickie’d had in her eyes when she’d spotted Robin in the store. There was something there, he was sure of it.
But maybe Vickie was like him. Maybe she’d only just learned this new thing about herself. Robin—and presumably Eddie—had had at least a couple of years to sit with this knowledge about themselves and come to terms with it. But for Steve (and Vickie?) it was still so scarily and terribly new. With girls, Steve knew how to play the field. He knew what was expected of him—what role he had to fill. But with Eddie a guy, all the rules went out the window; all of his scripts: useless. He’d have to start from scratch, and build something completely different from anything he’d been taught to want or expect before.
Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, though. Because Robin was right: they had more important things—end-of-the-world shaped things—to worry about. His love life could wait. Eddie could wait.
They all just needed to make it out of there alive.
🎸🎸🎸
Eddie survived. 
They won.
Eddie survived, and so did everyone else, and they won.
Eddie kept repeating it to himself, because he couldn’t quite believe it. 
He couldn’t make heads or tails of the fact that in the end running away was exactly what he needed to do to make sure they all made it out in one piece—more or less. 
He’d walked right out of hell with nothing more to show for it than a few scratches up his sides, and a ring of bruises ‘round his neck. In the end, Steve was the only person other than Red who needed a hospital stay of any kind, because what would have been manageable wounds on day one, had become life-threatening after days of infection and improper care.
A future in a state penitentiary also seemed to be out of the cards. There was probably nothing any of them could say or do to convince the general Hawkins populace of his innocence, but Dr. Owens and his ilk had crafted a cover story believable enough to win over Powell and Callahan, at least. More to the point, though: all charges had officially been dropped, and the case was closed.
Now there was just the mortifying process of figuring out how to move on. Or at least forward. 
That was the part you didn’t see in movies. No one showed the recovery. Because what was so interesting about watching someone pull their life and body back together? As though healing wasn’t just as much a part of the story as the falling apart.
Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit that it was driving him a bit mad. Because these kids all seemed to be seasoned veterans at it. They hadn't just snapped back to their relatively-easy-going-but-bitchy baselines by any means—Lucas and Dustin especially seemed incredibly subdued in response to the extent of Max's and Steve's injuries, respectively—but they moved around one another with a care and familiarity that spoke to years of experience. 
“How did you do this?” Eddie scrubbed a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots. He and Robin were posted by Steve's bedside—he still spent most of his days semi- to unconscious. And while Eddie didn’t necessarily think it made a whole lot of sense for him to be spending more time at Steve’s bedside than the kids did, Robin was only ever dragged away from him kicking and screaming, and as the newest member of the apocalypse posse above the age of twelve, he was in desperate need of her guidance.
“How’d I do what?” Her typically-raspy voice sounded paper thin, and there were deep, dark circles under both eyes.
“I don’t know—!” Eddie flapped a frantic hand around, like he could manifest words and meaning into being. Something about it made the corners of Robin’s mouth twitch up. “Any of it? You–you dealt with a flesh monster, apparently, and you’re just...walking around on two feet, probably ready to graduate—which is more than I could guarantee for myself—”
“Hey, you will—”
“Not the point, Buckley! The point is, up until this new bout of freaky shit popped into existence, you seemed like you were walking around Hawkins without a care in the world. So how’d you do it? What’s your secret?”
Robin scoffed. “If you think I was walking around without being terrified every day, you either weren’t paying attention, or you’re a lot less smart than I gave you credit for, Munson.”
Eddie grimaced. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not what I meant, I just…you seem like you managed to pull yourself back together—whereas I feel seconds away from total collapse.”
“Yeah, that’s not just a you thing.” Robin twisted one of her rings around her finger. “But you wanna know what kept me upright? It was Steve. I don’t think I would have made it through the last eight months without him. And I know he’s gonna be alright, but I am still terrified that something will happen and he’ll get ripped away from me.”
Eddie frowned. He didn’t think he’d been picking up on those kinds of vibes between Harrington and Buckley, but the way she spoke about him… “Are the two of you, like, a thing?”
Robin barked out a laugh. “No! Not at all. I mean, he is the most important person in my life, and I would both kill and die for him. But, like, in a normal, platonic way.”
“...I’ll take you at your word for the ‘platonic’ part, but there is absolutely nothing normal about what you just said. You two are freaky for each other.”
Robin giggle-snorted, and it scrunched her nose up in a way that filled Eddie with warmth. Despite everything about his…everything, he’d never been short on friends—but it always felt nice to find another one. “Yeah, yeah I guess we are.”
“Mmm…Bobbie? ‘Zat you?” The beeping of Steve’s heart monitor picked up a little speed, and the man in question’s eyelids fluttered open. Robin immediately unraveled from the folded-up position she’d adopted in the hospital chair, and reached out to take his hand into her own. 
“Yeah, Stevie, it’s me.”
Steve squeezed her hand, before his eyes started scanning the room—going wide when they landed on Eddie. “Oh. Eddie.” A light pink flush broke over his face, and he averted his gaze almost as quickly as he met Eddie’s. That kept happening whenever Steve woke up, and Eddie didn’t know what to make of it, but it always left him off-kilter in a way he didn’t want or know how to put a name to. He always took it as his cue to leave.
“Well,” he started, with forced cheer, and a shit-eating grin. He pushed himself up from the chair and dusted off his knees. “I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to catch up,”
“Not lovebirds—” Steve slurred, at the same time Robin exclaimed, “Ew, Munson!”
Eddie just cackled and sauntered off with a jaunty salute.
🦇🦇🦇
Steve felt like he was losing his mind. 
He'd been out of the hospital for a few weeks now, but he almost wished he was back there, because every waking second was just a never ending parade of pain and confusion. 
Fuck, why did almost dying always hurt so much?
The upside of being awake and ambulatory, was that Eddie had finally stopped running out of the room whenever Steve was awake for longer than two seconds. The down side—which was unfortunately directly connected to the aforementioned upside—was that Eddie was being weird.
And, okay, Steve had an admittedly shallow pool of evidence from which to draw his comparisons from. But the fact remained that Eddie’s behavior towards him pre- and post-Vecna-slaying were worlds’ apart. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d tried everything: playing coy, bringing him small gifts, finding excuses to talk to him one-on-one when the rest of the group was gathered together. But none of it seemed to work.
What Steve wanted was to just be able to rock up to the trailer with a bouquet of flowers and ask him out to a night at Enzo’s. But even without the whole recently-wanted-for-murder thing, the two of them going out on what was obviously a date in Hawkins was not only a bad idea, but actively dangerous. And without his typical romance rituals to fall back on, Steve was at a loss as to how to proceed, when the object of his affection was acting so damnably fickle.
“I just don’t get it, Rob. One minute he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and getting all up close and personal, and the next he’s looking like I killed his cat!”
“You have got to stop using other people’s trauma as analogies for your love life, babe.”
Steve waved a hand. “Mrs. Henderson’s not here.”
Robin threw up her hands. “And that makes it okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” 
“Fine, whatever.” Robin ruffled her hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just nervous!”
“Nervous! Why would he be nervous?”
“I don’t know, Steve. Why are you nervous?”
“Because I like him, and I don’t want to get hurt again!” Steve shouted, startling himself by the force with which the words came tumbling out.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Steve sighed. “I mean, it’s not just that, though, it’s…” Steve waved a hand into the open air between them. “I don’t know how to do this, you know? If this was a girl, I’d be thinking ‘oh, she’s playing hard to get—’”
“I can’t believe that’s a real thing people do,” Robin deadpanned.
“I mean, sometimes it really is just that they don’t like you—except that then they don’t keep trying to, like, hang out and joke with you—which Eddie does, he’s just hopelessly awkward about it.”
“Steve. Eddie is a hopelessly awkward person. It’s like a defining character trait.”
“Well he wasn’t with me.” Steve wiped a hand over his face and groaned. “I’m just nervous I misread the whole thing, you know? And if I did, and I ask him the wrong thing in the wrong way…what if he doesn’t want to see me again? Like, at all?”
Robin reached out and took his hand. “I hate that you have to know what that feels like,” she said, soft and careful. “But even in the wild event that Eddie is either a: entirely straight, or b: just not into you, I don’t think there’s any version of him that wouldn’t want to talk to you at all. So you should ask him out.”
“Okay, Rob,” Steve sighed. “Only on one condition, though.”
“Oh, no. Ohhhh, no you don’t—”
“You’ve gotta ask out Vickie,” Steve finished, holding out his hand with a smirk.
“Uggggh, fine. Deal.”
🎸🎸🎸
Steve was acting weird.
He’d been acting weird since getting discharged from the hospital—acting all shy and blushy one second, and then turning around and bringing him a new set of dice the next—but it’d really been cranked up to eleven for the past week.
And, look, Eddie knew he was new to the monsters-are-real crew. He knew that in order to make space for him they had to alter whatever their established dynamics were to fit him into them. But that didn’t account for the fact that all of a sudden Steve seemed to be completely unable to string two sentences together in front of him. 
Maybe the two of them weren’t quite friends yet, but he missed the ease with which they’d been able to talk and be honest with each other only a couple of weeks ago. Hell, they’d had more chemistry together down in the Upside Down.
Oh.
Oh, fuck. 
Maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe Steve had finally clocked his doomsday-flirting for what it was, and was trying to establish boundaries. Eddie thought he’d pulled back since they'd all crawled out of hell—broken, but alive. As soon as the danger was clear there was no reason to play the bit anymore, right? It’s not like his flirtation attempts had ever been more than a way to liven up what had been an unmitigated shitstain of an experience. Sure, Harrington was pretty, and nice—and there was clearly more to him than met the eye. Eddie had really enjoyed getting to know him over the course of the past few weeks. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, if he was being honest. But it looked like the door was closing on that chance if he didn’t straighten things out.
“Hey, Harrington?”
“I thought I told you to call me Steve, Munson.”
Eddie smiled his ‘malicious compliance’ smile and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking onto his heels as he said. “Alright: Steeeve.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a little smile on his face that belied the general bitchiness of the rest of his demeanor. “What do you want, Eddie?”
Eddie spread his hands out in front of him like he was unfurling a map into the air between them. “Just figured I ought to clear the air.”
Steve frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You know—the whole reason you’ve been all weird around me lately? I figured it’d be best if I put all of my cards on the table.”
The frown dropped off of Steve’s face—replaced by an expression that Eddie couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t…bad? There was no apprehension to be found there. Steve looked almost expectant. Hopeful, maybe. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense—but Harrington didn’t make a whole lot of sense, so maybe Eddie was just misreading whatever he was seeing there. 
“You know it was all just in good fun, right? That it didn’t mean anything?”
The frown returned. “What are you talking about?”
“Back in the Upside Down. You know I was just messing with you, right, man? Just a bit of good ol’ fashioned I’m-about-to-die flirting, you know? Nothing to get all worked up about.” Eddie kept a wide smile fixed in place, tried to really lean into the whole ‘non-threatening gay guy’ vibe—an uphill battle for him, specifically on one of his best days. He’d do jazz hands if it’d help sell the performance any better. But each word out of his mouth felt more like a lie than the one before.
A thin fissure appeared on Steve’s face—a crack that Eddie could almost see through, but not enough to be able to make any sense of what was on the other side. “Oh,” Steve said. His voice was shaking and Eddie couldn’t figure out why. It set off alarms in the part of his brain that was always primed to run at the first sign of danger. “So you’re…not gay?”
Eddie frowned in confusion. Of all the ways he thought Steve might react, that was not one of them. So Eddie forced a laugh, trying to disarm the question. “Oh no, I am a flaming homosexual. I just want to make sure you know that doesn’t mean I’m interested in you.”
The frown slid off of Steve’s face, and the fissure smoothed itself away like it’d never been there. The Steve standing before him was blank-faced as a statue, and it made Eddie want to puke. In all his worrying about Steve being uncomfortable with the idea that Eddie was hitting on him, specifically, he’d entirely forgotten to be worried about Steve being straight up homophobic. At least he wasn’t throwing punches. That was something, right? But Steve was looking at him with such a totalizing coldness behind his eyes that Eddie felt like he’d been left out to sea. 
Steve gave a stiff nod. “Right, of course not,” he said, but the words came out wooden. He threw a thumb over one shoulder and twisted on his heel, back toward the beemer. “I’ll just…I gotta go.”
And then Harrington turned his back to him, and walked away.
Eddie didn’t have a crush on Steve.
So why did it hurt so much to watch him leave?
⛵⛵⛵
Robin sped down the stairs when she heard the banging at the door. There weren’t many people who would bother turning up on her doorstep unannounced. Even fewer who would make such a concerted effort to try to knock it down with the force of their pounding fists.
She swung the door open to find a tear-stained Steve standing before her.
“What happened?” She gasped out. Was it back? It couldn’t be back. El and Will had both sworn on pain of death that it was over. Maybe there was a new horror in town? Maybe Nancy had gone missing? Or Dustin? One of the other kids? Maybe Eddie? 
Steve cut off the racing of her thoughts with a sobbing gasp. “Nothing, Robs.” Somehow, he looked worse than he had after the Russians. His head was hung low, and Robin could swear there was a shadow of phantom-bruising around his eyes. Like he’d been emotionally decked in the face. He took a step forward to come inside at the same moment that she took him by the wrist and yanked him across the threshold.
“What do you need?”
“Bathroom,” was all he said. And then Steve swapped his-wrist-in-hers for her-wrist-in-his and he pulled her further into her own house, toward the second-floor bathroom. When they reached it, Robin plopped down on the floor with her back against the tub while Steve took up his position with his back pressed up against the toilet bowl.
“What happened?” She whispered.
Steve was silent for a long stretch of time. He turned his head to the side, as though he was trying to look out of the small frosted window high up on the wall beside him. “He doesn’t want me.”
“Who? What? What are you talking about, Steve?”
Steve turned back to face her. “Eddie. He doesn’t want me.” Steve no longer sounded sad—he sounded vacant.
Robin’s nose scrunched up like she’d smelled something wrong, because that didn’t make sense. Robin might not be good at clocking other gay people—she wasn’t that good at reading people, period—but it’s not like Eddie’s flirting with Steve had been subtle. And even beyond that, he was always looking at Steve while he was asleep in the hospital bed, in a way that Robin thought meant something… There was just no way that Eddie didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Steve, right? So what had he said to make Steve so certain about that he didn’t? “How d’you know that?”
Steve laughed, half-hysterical, as he tipped his head back onto the lid of the toilet. “He said it didn’t mean anything—the flirting.” Steve wiped a hand clear across the length of his face—chin to forehead—before digging his fingers into his hair. He laughed again. Or—it was more a puff of air, than anything else. And there was definitely no humor behind it. Just a bitter kind of resignation. “And then—he said—he told me he was gay, but that he just wanted me to know that it doesn’t mean he’s interested in me.” Steve covered his face with both hands and let out a broken sob. “God, he and Nance should compare notes.”
Robin could feel the lines carving an angry space between her eyebrows, and a fire in her heart. How dare he? Maybe Robin had misread Eddie's whole vibe toward Steve—but how dare he just trample all over and discard his heart like that? It didn’t make sense—but it was happening, and she had to fix it, because no one was allowed to break her other half. 
“Hey Stevie?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.
“Yeah?”
“Where do you keep your little nail bat nowadays?”
🎸🎸🎸
Let it not be said that Eddie Munson didn’t know how to pull off a top-tier wallow. Ozzy’s pleading vocals were pouring out the speakers, while Eddie was laid star-fished out on the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers, and torturing himself with the memory of Steve Harrington biting into the tail of a hell-bat.
Is it me or is it you?
Things are so much different now
But nothing lasts forever
He really should have known that whatever kind of rapport he and Harrington had going was too good to be true. Once a rich dickhead jock, always a rich dickhead jock, right? He almost felt bad thinking that. But what else was he supposed to think? The second Steve Harrinton had found out he was gay he’d turned his back on him. That was pretty cut and dry.
A loud banging at the trailer door cut through his thoughts and over the sound of Ozzy singing looks and glances can't repair, talking could if we'd just dare.
Eddie had half a mind to just ignore it, but there were even odds that it was one of the UD Crew as it was a member of Hawkins’ resident angry mob. So Eddie peeled himself off the bed, leaving Ozzy blaring behind him, and yanked open the door. “What—?” He started, but came up short when he registered an absolutely livid Robin Buckley staring back at him.
Eddie hadn’t thought to take into consideration the idea that the person at the door might be a UD Crew member taking up the role of angry mob members. But Robin Buckley was standing on his stoop looking half-ready to commit a murder. The second the door was open, she shoved past him and into the trailer.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?”
“Wh-what are you talking about, Buckley?” Covering his face with a piece of hair wasn’t enough—he wanted to melt into the floor. Had Steve really sent Robin to beat him up for being gay? That was some next level gymnastics in avoiding making physical contact with another man so that you don't seem gay.
Robin yanked at her hair and started pacing around the common area, glaring daggers into the floor (but thankfully not at him). “What am I talking about, he asks! You really are a medical grade idiot, aren’t you?”
“I—”
“No, shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Robin abruptly swung around on her heel to rush at him and jab a finger into his chest. “You broke Steve’s heart. And I don’t care if you were never into him—because I know that you can’t help who you like, or love—but you had no right to be so fucking cruel about it!”
A penny dropped.
“Robin. What are you talking about?”
Steve was heartbroken? That didn’t make any sense. He should have been relieved, he should have—
Robin laughed, hysterical, and threw her hands into the air. “I am talking about the fact that you told my best friend who has been pining over you for fucking weeks that all of the very obvious flirting you’ve been doing ‘didn’t mean anything,’ and that you just had to let him know that you weren’t interested in him specifically.” Robin paused to take a deep breath and kept barreling on. “And I get not wanting to lead someone on, Eddie—but even I know that was the least tactful way you could have gone about letting him down.”
Eddie shook his head, backing up toward the nearest wall like a cornered animal, because what Robin was saying didn’t make any sense. “I— I don’t—I mean, I do like him. I thought he didn’t like me! I thought he was straight!”
That brought Robin up short. Her shoulders remained set into a tense line, and her brow was still furrowed in distrust, but some of the unrelenting ire slipped away. “You didn’t—? Did he not—? What the fuck, Stevie!” The last part Robin muttered under her breath.
“Did he not, what, Buckley?”
“He didn’t ask you out?”
“No. What? Was he planning to?”
“Yes, numb nuts! Steve’s been trying to ask you out for weeks! I mean I guess mostly this past week—but that’s because before then he’d just been trying to beam the knowledge directly into your head through your thick skull.”
“Oh, shit.” Eddie’s heart dropped into his stomach as the full ramifications of what he’d said caught up to him.
“Yeah, ‘oh, shit,’ Munson.”
“Buckley—” Eddie rushed over to clap both of his hands onto Robin’s shoulders. “Robin. I’ve gotta fix this.”
Robin rolled her eyes. They were still creased at the corners, but the rest of her seemed to have softened a bit. “Yeah, you do,” she said—all low and serious. “You’re gonna have to fucking grovel.”
Eddie nodded. “Can you help me?”
Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But let me make one thing fucking clear, Munson: I am doing this for Steve, not you, capiche? You put one toe out of line and I’ll go to the Wheeler house and grab one of Nancy’s guns.”
Eddie held up his hands in placating surrender. “Message received, loud and clear.”
Robin nodded, satisfied.
Eddie grinned back. “Let’s go get my man.”
there is now a part two!
626 notes · View notes
dracoxsworld · 1 year
Note
Heyy, I don’t know if you write for Fred, but if you do could you make one of those “having sex with …” with Fred? Thank youuu 🥰
Warnings: SMUT, SEXUAL CONTENT, 18+
Authors Note: Thank you so much for the request 🥹 These really help
me get the motivation in my brain goin’ lol. I hope you like it <3
Fred Weasley During Sex
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This man.. is very possessive
Not in like a “I’m jealous” type of way but the type of way where he’s insistent to let everyone know that you’re his.
He’s very much into bondage I feel like low key, like either you being tied up or him being tied up he’s just automatically down for it
Given he’s the possessive type, public sex his something he rather enjoys, obviously keeping it low-key and not TOO obvious it’s happening but if there’s a certain witch/wizard who crosses a boundary… he will make sure they know
Man’s loves giving you a nice facial. He loves seeing your face dripping with his cum🫣
One time you both snuck into the Prefects bathroom
You both originally went there to just have a nice, relaxing bath on a Friday evening, he had just had a Quidditch game.
He went underneath the water and you felt his lips kissing you up your inner thigh, he came back to the surface with a smug smile on his face.
“Freddy! Not here,” you moaned from the absence of his touch, but knowing you can’t do anything there
You ended up on his lap, his cock twitching inside of you, bounding on his dick with his hand over your mouth because your moans were so loud.
George always teases you both, he’s under the impression your sex life is rather vanilla, boring and standard. Boy, is he wrong.
This man is allllll about choking. You love it, he loves it. He loves wrapping his hand around your neck while you both make out, you straddling his lap while his one hand is on your neck, the other exploring your body.
The man can never take his hands off of you, actually.
Totally a butt guy. 100%. Even if you think you’re as flat as a pancake, the man loves slapping your ass until it’s red and raw.
While teasing is something you both enjoy, your sex drives are so high and overpowering, you can’t help yourselves but to find the nearest broom closet if you’re in school, or finding *somewhere else* to take care of the frustration.
You once tried to purposefully make him jealous by playfully hitting another peers chest when he told a joke, Fred noticed this and grabbed you by your wrist. He didn’t even take you to a broom closet, he wanted to have you in his bed.
He brought you to his bedroom and immediately unbuckled and took off his trousers and boxers. His cock slapping him in the stomach as he did so.
He throat fucked you, watching as your pretty little eyes flicked up at him. “I wish Cedric could see this, love,” He moaned out. “His secret crush, on her knees for me, as my cock is fucking her pretty little throat.” He sneered, his head falling back.
“Fuck. Baby girl this is where you belong. Right here.” He said, gripping your hair. You moaned at his words.
Of course, it’s not all about him.
One time you wore a particularly smaller skirt to class, it was from the year before, and you had a growth spurt since, so it was a bit small on you.
At the end of the day, Fred sent you a note to meet him at his dorm room, so you did.
Immediately when you entered the door he picked you up by your waist, your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, causing your skirt to ride up exposing your ass.
Fred took this as an opportunity to of course grip dat ass
He loves fucking you, of course, but oral sex is his fave. He loves eating you out, and licking you clean afterwards *particularly* when you wear a skirt, because ya know, easy access.
Aftercare. Is soooo important to him.
Cuddling, taking a bath, doing your face care for you, boy really knows how to fix you up after he absolutely destroyed you.
Honestly so sweet, he always asks “I made you cum, right?” or, “Did i hurt you at all?” or “You know I love you so much, babygirl. You did so so good for me.”
Yeah, he’s pretty great 🫶
468 notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 6 months
Text
🎨even closer: kim sunoo
a vampires bleeding series: five / seven
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pairing: sunoo x afab!reader word count: 5.5k
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synopsis: in hopes of the boys figuring out why dorian needed the witch and dhampir, the seven vampires and two humans travel into another large city, going on about their daily lives until you come along, offering them a chance at finding their lost mates.
genre: strangers to lovers, vampire!sunoo, elf!reader, nurse!reader fluff.
warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, cute sassy sunshine ♡
☾ jungwon(1) | jay(2) | jake(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | heeseung(7) ☽
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Niki drops his school backpack onto the floor as he stands in the doorway of the house, the face of disbelief towards his six hyungs. 
“We are moving again?” 
Sunoo thins his lips into a line, crossing his arms and taking a step back away from his hyungs in case Niki decides to start throwing things. The maknae looked PISSED. 
Heeseung sighed, “Unfortunately…yes.” 
Archer slaps his hands on the table, “And what if Dorian comes back and my sister is with him?!”
Jake tucked his lips between his teeth, looking away from his mate's brother, his eyes getting glossy. 
Sunghoon chips in, “What if he has __ with him too! This land has all her coven's secrets, if he comes back with the girls we NEED to be here!” 
Archer agreed with Sunghoon, “And Jake, how can you agree to this when he took YOUR MATE!! my TWIN SISTER!!” 
Jake shook his head, “I don’t agree with this! I want to be here just as much as you two!” He snapped. 
The three of them started bickering, causing Jay to tense his jaw and start yelling, “HEY HEY HEY! That’s enough!!” 
The room fell silent. Everyone’s eyes are on Jay. 
“We are leaving because it’s no longer safe here!” Jay snapped, “Dorian is clearly planning something, and if there’s something with __’s coven here, he’s going to exploit that.” 
Sunghoon balled his hands into fists at his side, locking his jaw into place. 
Jay continued, “We have to protect who we can, and we have to be smart ab-“ 
Sunghoon interrupted, “About what we have to protect?! What about what I have to protect!!” 
Jungwon stepped in, “Listen we all have-“
“No!” Sunghoon yelled, pointing two fingers at Jay and Jungwon, “You two have your mates! Neither of you has to deal with that painful tug of them not being at your side like Jake and myself! Try to imagine how it must feel if Dorian took __ and __ !!!” 
“Sunghoon that’s enough!” Heeseung snapped, “We are a fucking family for crying out loud. We feel __ and __ missing presences too. We are trying here, Sunghoon, but we need to get information, and sitting here waiting for Dorian isn’t the right move!” 
Jake places a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. Sunghoon’s legs gave out on him, falling to the floor, “I’m sorry…” 
The room once again fell silent. Jay knelt down beside Sunghoon, pulling him into a hug as Sunghoon cried out for his lost love. 
Sunoo looked away, seeing his brothers hurt wasn’t easy. 
“We leave tomorrow,” Jungwon softly spoke, “Archer will be our eyes and ears if anything happens here.”
“Where are we going?” Niki asked. 
“Into another city,” Heeseung said, “We are going to split back up into living in different apartments, to keep our safety. We also bought a loft at another apartment complex that we will go to if needed for our safety as well.” 
Jungwon continued after Heeseung, “We won't discuss where the apartments are here, we believe there might be someone following us, so from now on we won’t discuss anything more until we get into the city, understood?” 
Everyone nodded.
“Good,” Jungwon nodded too, “Everyone get some sleep, we leave early.” 
Niki raised his hand, “Please tell me I don’t have to attend another school.” 
“You start the day after we get into the city.” Jay said, “Go to bed.” 
Sunoo walked down the hospital halls, eyes roaming until he found the correct room. 
Without knocking, Sunoo slipped inside the room, “Hyung! I have your food!~” he sang as he set the plastic bag on the desk. 
Jay looked up at him, eyebrow raised. 
Sunoo continued giving off his big sunshine smile, as Jay slowly opened the bag, “What are you doing here?” 
Sunoo pouted, “Can I not bring my older brother food?” 
Jay pulled out the bags of blood, glaring at Sunoo, “You carried these with you?! Just out in the open!?” 
Sunoo rolled his eyes and leaned over, connecting his elbows to the desk and face in his hands. 
“No, I snuck into the closet supply where you keep them and slipped them into a convenience store bag.” 
Jay sighed, slumping down into his chair, “Did you really?” 
Sunoo smiled, “No, I brought them from home.” 
All Jay could do was roll his eyes, sliding the bag into his desk drawer. 
“Why are you actually here?” 
“Was curious how this new hospital was treating you and Heeseung.” 
“It’s fine, we’ve both been very busy.” 
Suno scoffed, “Yeah, I know. Family dinners haven’t been the same since leaving that farmhouse.” 
Jay groaned, dropping his head into his hands, “It’s been almost two weeks and I feel like I haven’t properly slept.” 
Sunoo’s eyes soften, he knows Jay and Heeseung have been working their asses off since coming into this city. All seven of them haven’t fully been together in two weeks. There was always someone missing. 
“Hyung, maybe you need to request some time off and spend some time with the pack. Relax with __ a bit more.” 
Jay shook his head, sitting up straight and scrolling through files on his computer, “I can’t rest until we’ve caught Dorian, get the girls back, and put an end to all this.” 
All Sunoo could do was nod, he knew Jay wasn’t going to relax one bit. 
“Where is __ at anyways?” Sunoo asked, seeing it weird that Jay’s mate wasn’t at his side. 
“At our apartment,” Jay sighed, “Jungwon and __ are spending the day with her since she can’t be here at the hospital every day.” 
Sunoo nodded, the staff would definitely find it weird if she followed Jay around everywhere he went. Plus Jay is a doctor, she can’t be around his patients either. 
“How is Niki doing?” Jay asked in between writing something on his notepad and looking back at the files. 
“School wise?” Sunoo shrugged, “He’s hating it.” 
“Well, that’s to be expected. Little bro has graduated high school more times than the rest of us.” 
Sunoo nodded, “For sure. But he joined the soccer team, so he’s been keeping busy for the most part. His grades are high as well, no need to worry.” 
“Good, good.” Jay wrote something down.
“Can you not be a doctor for twenty minutes while I am here?” 
Jay glared at him, “I still have to fulfill my working duties. We still need money after all.” 
Sunoo rolled his eyes, knowing the older was obviously right, but choosing to be sassy anyway. 
“What about Sunghoon and Jake?” Jay asked, “How are they… coping?” 
Sunoo released a sigh, “Just as good as anyone would think. They don’t leave their apartment often. It’s mostly Niki and myself going to theirs and making sure they are drinking properly.” 
Jay slowly nodded. There wasn’t much to say about Sunghoon and Jake. Their mates were taken from them and are completely powerless on the whole matter. Nothing can be done until a way is found to stop Dorian. 
Sunoo felt sorry for his hyungs, watching them slowly tear themselves apart was destroying him too. Sunoo obviously felt that the presence of their mates missing, they were all in a pack after all, and everyone was connected. But Sunoo could only imagine how terribly more it was affecting them than the others. 
“How much longer are you going to be here? I have a surgery scheduled in thirty minutes.”
Sunoo smiled brightly, “Until you leave for the surgery. 
You quickly waved your hands over your ears, watching as they went from a point to being round like a normal human's ears. 
You took a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it. 
You were nervous. It was your first official day as a nurse. 
It wasn’t the fact that you were now fully a certified nurse that had your nerves in a bunch. You are a magical elf who is still trying to learn to control your powers. 
You splashed water on your face and took another deep breath in. 
You decided becoming a nurse would be a better fit for you than anything else. You could help put your powers to good use, just…can’t get caught. You found medicine very interesting anyway, and want to help people. This way is the best option to go with. 
You double-checked both ears once more in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom, completely running into someone the minute you opened the door. 
“Oh, I am so sorry!” You quickly said, realizing who was in front of you. More embarrassment washing over you, “Oh my god, I am so sorry Dr. Lee!” 
Heeseung smiled sweetly, rubbing his arm where the door hit him. 
“Don’t worry about it! It didn’t hurt at all! And please, just call me Heeseung.” 
You slowly nodded, feeling your face heat up. 
“You’re the nurse on duty for myself and Dr. Park today, correct?”
You nodded again, “It’s my first day out of just clinical so I am a bit nervous.” 
Heeseung gave you a soft smile, “Well, from the two weeks I’ve known you, you are doing great!” 
You felt your face flush once more and your heart raced. Why was he so handsome? 
“I am actually heading over to Dr. Park’s office right now, care to follow?” 
You nodded once again, following behind him. 
You asked him how well he was adjusting to the hospital, mostly since he’s still a fairly new doctor here. 
Which is why you think you connected so quickly with him. You both were new (well, he wasn’t new to being a doctor but new to the area) and still trying to find your footing here. 
Heeseung opened the door to Dr. Park’s office and let you walk in first. 
To your surprise, there was someone else here too. 
He sat on the corner of the desk, slightly kicking his legs back and forth. 
He was smiling so brightly at Dr. Park, that his smile could be confused with the sun. 
He slowly turned his head and looked at you. 
The moment you both locked eyes, something in your heart pulled. 
Sunoo felt it too. The moment he locked eyes with you, his heart felt like it was going to cut his chest from the inside out and jump into your arms. 
“Oh, Sunoo! What are you doing here?” Heeseung asked, smiling at him. Walking closer, “Where is Niki?” Heeseung wrapped an arm around Sunoo’s neck, earning another bright smile to fall onto his lips. 
“School, he has soccer practice.” Sunoo continued swinging his feet, causing Jay to snap. 
“Hey hey! Get off my desk!” 
You chuckled softly, earning a gaze from all three men. 
“I am so sorry for laughing…” You quickly apologize, “I just never saw Dr. Park snap like that before.” 
“Yeah, Dr. Park,” Sunoo teased, “Why are you snapping at me like that?” 
Jay tensed his jaw, “Please get off my desk before I beat your ass.” He said through his teeth. 
Sunoo gave a wink and hopped off the desk. 
“Also, Y/N,” Jay said, looking at you, “Please just call me Jay. No need for formalities.” 
You nodded, kinda happy to be on that close of a level with them to go by first names. 
The three boys continued talking. You studied the three of them, listening as Jay complains about the one named Niki playing soccer and how Heeseung said he approved of it. 
The one named Sunoo you assumed was also one of their siblings. 
You’ve heard Heeseung talk about how Jay is his brother and there are five others. And from the way they are all speaking to each other, Sunoo has to be one of the five. 
Your eyes kept landing back on Sunoo, your heart doing multiple flips every time he caught you looking at him. 
Sunoo could practically hear how fast your heart was racing. It was taking everything in him to not completely crumble down at your feet. 
Sunoo couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you are. How cute your shy mannerisms were to him. How you would blush when he looked your way. It was way too adorable and he couldn’t handle it. 
But he also noticed something was…off. There was an aura that radiated off you. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it could be. 
“Okay. Sunoo,” Jay said checking his watch, “We have that surgery now. Go home.” 
Sunoo pouted but nodded, “Fineeeeee.” 
You stood off to the side, letting Heeseung and Jay walk out first, and then Sunoo. 
But to your surprise he stopped in front of you, leaning slightly down to be at eye level with you. 
Your face blushed at how close he was. You took a small step back, “what?” you asked, letting out a soft nervous giggle, “Is there something on my face? In my hair?” 
You used the chance to cup your hands over your ears, making sure they weren’t in a point and sticking out between the strands of your hair. 
Sunoo smiled at you, “Just admiring how cute you are.” 
Sunoo skipped away after saying that, leaving you as an actual puddle on the floor. 
“Oh, and it was Y/N, right?” He asked, turning around to face you again. 
You nodded, “And it was Sunoo, right?” you asked, copying his words. 
He nodded, “Mhmm. I’ll see you around, Y/N.” 
It’s been four days since you’ve last seen him. 
You found yourself always stopping by Jay’s and Heeseung’s office, peeking in to see if the ball of sunshine was there. 
You always sighed at the sight of him not being there, your heart feeling a sadness you can’t describe. 
Two more days passed before you finally saw him again. 
You sat in Heeseung’s office, looking over the X-rays from a patient who had broken their leg. 
Heeseung pointed out the area around the break with his pen, talking about the best course of action to help heal the bones. 
With your powers, you could heal this patient easily, but you knew you couldn’t. If anyone found out what you were…
The sound of the door opening jumped you out of your thoughts, seeing Sunoo skipping inside the room. 
You felt your heart jump for joy at seeing his bright smile. The pull feeling becomes stronger. 
“Heeseung Hyung~” Sunoo sang, “And hello miss Y/N.” 
You smiled softly, giving him a shy wave. 
You saw a face peek from behind Sunoo, his blond hair slightly covering his eyes as he looked around the room with his hands in his hoodie pocket. 
“Sunoo, and Niki,” Heeseung welcomed them, “What brings you two here?” 
“He picked me up from soccer practice and drugged me here,” Niki mumbled, “I am ready to go home.” 
Sunoo rolled his eyes, “It was an important stop.” 
Niki crossed his arms, “Was it?” 
Heeseung sighed, “Please don’t argue in my office, go bother Jay if that’s what you came to do.” 
Sunoo’s eyes perked up, “I am actually here for Y/N.” 
You looked up at him in surprise, “M-me?” 
Sunoo nodded, getting back into your personal space, his face inches away from yours, “How would you like to go on a date with me tonight?” 
Sunoo fluffed his hair in the mirror, making sure it looked perfect. Double checking all the piercings in his ears were all in place and rebrushed his teeth. 
Niki button smashed the Nintendo Switch controller in his hands at the video game he was playing, slightly turning around behind him for a second, seeing Sunoo freshening himself up. 
“Hyung,” Niki called out, turning his attention back to the television, “You're really serious about going on this date aren’t you?” 
Sunoo grabbed his bag and pulled it onto his shoulder, “Yes, what’s wrong with me going on a date?” 
Niki chuckled, “Nothing. It’s cute.” 
Sunoo nodded, “Obviously.” 
Niki paused the game, shifting himself on the couch to face Sunoo, “But I do think you’re going for another reason.” 
Sunoo raised a brow, grabbing a blood bag and quickly sipping it down, “And that is?”
Niki smiled softly, “To figure out what she is.” 
Sunoo smirked at the younger, “Funny you think I don’t already know.” 
You looked down at your phone, checking to make sure the directions Sunoo texted you were correct, and sure enough they were. 
The directions led you to a park. You walk past this park multiple times a day going to and from the hospital and your apartment but never once did you stop to actually come here. 
It was beautiful. Filled with gorgeous trees and families walking with their children and dogs. 
You searched for Sunoo until you found him sitting on a bench. 
He had a drawing book in his hands, the pencil moving across the page. 
You smiled, curious to see what he was drawing. 
You slowly walked up behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see what he was drawing. 
He was drawing the pond that sat a few yards in front of you both. Adding in the trees surrounding the area, and the family that was having a picnic beside the pond. 
It was a beautiful drawing. 
“I know you’re there, Y/N.” 
Your heart stopped as you slightly jumped hearing his voice. 
Sunoo hung his head back, giving you a smile, “Ready for our date?” 
You nodded, watching as he stood up and slipped the pencil and drawing book into his bag. 
“Let’s go~”
Sunoo reached his hand out to you, slowly placing your hand in his and following behind him. 
Sunoo and you walked around the park. Talking about how both your days have been. How working at the hospital was. 
You discovered Sunoo draws in his free time and sells them which helps pay for the apartment he shares with Niki. 
You watched as Sunoo talked about his family, how happy and brightly he smiled as he spoke. Sunoo from what you could tell was the sassy one in the family, but he dearly loves them with his whole heart. 
And that’s something that made you feel even more attracted to him. 
Sunoo might have looked calm on the outside, but on the inside, he felt his heart was going to burst. Your hand fit so perfectly with his and all he wanted to do was skip and swing your arms back and forth together. 
He might have multiple reasons to bring you here today, but he genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Sunoo tried so hard to mask how much he has thought about you since the meeting. Niki even noticed how hard he was trying to look presentable earlier. 
Sunoo didn’t quite understand this feeling he was feeling yet. All he knew was it was fate to have met you. 
“You must be really close with all your brothers.” You said, smiling wide at him, “It’s really cute.” 
Sunoo chuckled, “Well, we aren’t actually brothers.” Sunoo released his hand from yours to skip in front of you, walking backward as you both talked. 
“I kinda figured,” you shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, the cool breeze making them cold, “You all have different last names after all.” 
Sunoo smiles, “Nonetheless, they are still my family. And I wouldn’t trade them for anything.” 
Your pulled tugged even tighter to him, and you swore you saw it on his face that he felt that same tug. 
Sunoo took a deep breath and then turned around, his back now facing you. 
The sun finally set, leaving the park dark except for the few street lamps. 
Sunoo stopped walking, “It’s sure dark out here.” 
You nodded, glancing around the park, “You would think they’d add more lampposts out here.”
“Why don’t you set a light for us, hmm?” 
Your heart stopped as you stood frozen. You were scared to look at him, scared to even move. Did you hear him correctly? Did he figure you out? If so then how?
You slowly turned your head, seeing Sunoo was still facing away from you. 
“You don’t have to be afraid, Y/N.” Sunoo turned to you, “Just a small light will be fine.” 
You stared at his cocoa eyes, trying to read them and what he could possibly be thinking. 
Lifting your hand, you snap your fingers, and a small orb of light appears at your fingertips, illuminating the area around you both. 
Sunoo smiled, “That’s my girl. You don’t have to hide your ears either, I bet they look adorable.”
“How did you figure it out?” you softly whispered, removing the illusion at your ears, then slowly growing to their normal point.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out that you were an elf, Y/N. You have that aura. I could sense it the moment we met.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him, the only way he could have sensed what you were was if he too was an elf or…something else.
“What are you?” you asked, your eyes not breaking contact with him. 
Sunoo closed his eyes and chuckled, slowly opening his eyes. 
You stare at the glowing crimson, and at the sharp point of his fangs as he smiles, his tongue slowly licking his top lip. 
“Vampire…” you whispered, walking closer to him. 
Sunoo looked down at you, “You aren’t afraid?” he teased, his fangs slowly retracting and eyes going back to the beautiful cocoa you loved. 
You shook your head, “No I’m not afraid.”
With your free hand you touched his face, tracing your fingers over his jawline. 
Sunoo leaned his face into your hand, planting a soft kiss on your palm, “Good, I don’t know what I would have done if you were afraid of me.” 
Sunoo being a vampire made all too well sense. 
“It kinda makes sense,” you giggled, “You’re in a pack. Heeseung and Jay have more knowledge about being doctors than everyone else in that hospital. The reason why Jay fussed about the youngest being in soccer.” 
Sunoo nodded, “We are a little crazy family.” 
Your heart pulled towards him more, feeling as if a string was being wrapped around the two of you. 
Your knowledge of vampires wasn't the greatest, but you knew enough to get by. Elves and vampires weren’t exactly enemies, but they weren’t exactly friends either. You grew up with your family teaching you about all the different creatures in the world. You were fascinated by them all and how different each and everyone was, mostly how vampires and werewolves are pack hunters and they find their mates.  
And now that you have a vampire standing in front of you, looking at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky yourself.
You can’t help but wonder if this pull was that mate feeling that they have. 
“Does anyone in your pack have mates?” you felt bold asking that question, mostly wondering if Sunoo already had one. You didn’t know how you’d handle the news if he did.
Sunoo sighed, taking your hand into his, he intertwined your fingers with him, taking a deep breath in. 
“Yeah, four of them do.” You could see the sadness on his face, “Jungwon, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake do.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved, but still sad at how he felt. 
“Why do you say that with such sadness? I am an elf you know, I can sense feelings.” 
Sunoo giggled at your words, making eye contact with you again, “Two of the mates are missing.”
You found a park bench to sit down on, listening as Sunoo told you the events that led him and his pack to this city. Your heart broke more and more as you listened. 
The events that have happened to Sunoo and his pack weren’t fair. They wanted to live normal lives, just as the rest of us mythical creatures. But they’ve had it so hard. and it broke your heart. 
It broke your heart even more seeing how Sunoo was also struggling with the loss of his brother's mates. They are all connected as one big pack, you can only imagine the pain Sunghoon and Jake felt. 
You reached for his hands, running your thumbs over the tops. 
“I am so sorry for what Dorian has done to you and your family.” 
Sunoo squeezed your fingers, “It’s no one’s fault, shit happens. We came to this city to find more information and to hide so we could protect the pack, but I can’t help but feel so powerless. All I do is make art and sell it to help keep a somewhat normal life for my family. Sunghoon and Jake are sinking without __ and __. I don’t want my family to hurt anymore.” 
You tuck your lips between your teeth, debating if you should say the next words or not. But when Sunoo looked up at you with glossy eyes, the words slipped from your lips. 
“I can attempt to use tracking magic to help you find their mates and make your family whole again.” 
Sunoo led you to his car, opened the door for you, and waited until you got in to close it and use his vampire speed to get in on the other side. 
Sunoo dialed Heeseung’s number quickly, putting the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hyung,” Sunoo quickly said, his voice shaking. 
“Sunoo?? What’s wrong?” 
“I need you to gather everyone, I have Y/N with me so I won’t arrive as quickly, but gather everyone at the loft. This is important.”
Heeseung agreed and the line went dead. 
Sunoo dropped his phone into the cup holder, his other hand gripping the steering wheel as he drove quickly to the apartment loft. 
You grabbed his free hand, giving it a soft squeeze, using your calming magic to relax him. 
Sunoo slouched in the driver's seat, releasing a sigh, “I am so happy you’re here with me right now, and not just because you helped relax me as if I just smoked and got high.” 
You laughed at his sassy nature, “It’s the least I could do to help this situation.” 
“Can you really use some kind of tracking magic to get our members back?” He softly asked.
You nodded, “I am still learning to keep my powers under control, back at home we didn’t have to control our powers, but now that elves have migrated into the public eye to live normal lives, keeping my powers controlled is still a learning process.” 
Sunoo kissed the back of your hand, “I have full faith in you.” 
You pulled up at the apartment complex, Sunoo helping you out of the car and inside, taking an elevator to the top floor. 
Sunoo took your hand in his as you walked to the door of his pack’s loft. 
“Don’t be too intimidated by them, Sunghoon will probably have some words, the other might tease, but just be sassy to them like I am and you’ll be fine.” 
You giggled at him and how brave he was being with all the chaos surrounding him. 
Sunoo reached for the door handle and turned it, the door slowly opening. 
You walked in behind him, your hand tightly attached to his still. 
Eight pairs of eyes stared at you the moment you walked in. 
You looked at each of them, feeling their emotions flooding into you. 
Jungwon and Jay held their mates in their arms, while the others sat separately around the room. Jake and Sunghoon stood at the windows, leaning against them. 
Sunghoon looked out the window, but quickly back at you. 
“No! Absolutely not!” Sunghoon snapped. 
Sunoo groaned, “I knew you were going to say some shit.” 
“We aren’t fucking around with elves!” Sunghoon stood from the window.
“Why?” You stepped in front of Sunoo, him trying to pull you back behind him, “Because we were naturally born immortal, whereas you had to be bitten on your neck to keep yourself from dying to achieve immortality?” you sassed, not letting Sunghoon’s attitude get to you, “Plus I heard you mated with a witch, why can’t another magic goer join this circus of chaos?” 
Oh, Sunoo was so in love with you right now. It took everything in him to not fall to the floor and worship the ground you walked on along with laughing his lungs out at you teasing Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon’s face blushed a bright red, causing the other males to laugh. 
“Damn,” Niki said, “She got you GOOD.” 
“Okay, settle down now,” Jungwon said, looking between everyone. You could tell Jungwon was the leader of this pack the minute you walked in, “Sunoo, tell us why we needed to meet.” 
Sunoo pulled you close to him, “Y/N can use tracking magic.”
Jay’s eyes widened, “She’s going to help us find __ and __.” 
Jake quickly rushed to you, taking your hand in his, “Can you really do it? Help us find where my mate is?” 
Sunoo slapped Jake’s hands off yours, giving him a glare. 
You nodded, looking between both Jake and Sunghoon, “I will need something of theirs that you too have, and I can trace where they are. But I’ll also need a map.” 
“It will also give us a location where Dorian is.” Heeseung spoke up, “Thank you, Y/N, for doing this for us.” 
You nodded. You looked back around at the vampires and two humans in front of you. Each of them felt the pain of their pack. You felt it and could see it in their eyes. 
Jay pulled a map out, setting it on the kitchen table. 
Jake paced around the kitchen on the phone, before hanging up his call, “Archer is on the way here.” 
Jake handed you a piece of clothing from his mate, while Sunghoon handed you a bracelet from his mate. 
The moment the items were in your hands, you could feel the love and pain that ran through them. The dhampir struggles by losing her first mate but then meets her true mate, just to be taken from him. The witch's bracelet is filled with the sorrow of her coven being killed and being the only lone survivor, but finding a new family with Sunghoon. The love the four of them shared was beautiful, and it brought tears to your eyes. 
“Okay twinkle toes,” Sunghoon scoffed, “Do your thing.” 
You focused on the items in your hands, pulling all the energy into them, searching for their scent. 
Your eyes closed as you pictured where they were, your finger immediately touched the map on the table, pinpointing where they were.
The images of the surrounding area filled your mind. 
You opened your eyes, noticing everyone staring at the area on the map where your finger pointed. 
“You did it…” Sunoo said. 
Heeseung quickly circled the area with a Sharpie. 
You dropped the items onto the table, taking a deep breath in and out. 
Sunoo grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. 
He wrapped his arms tightly around you, “You did it. We can find the girls and Dorian.”
You shook your head, “All I did was give a general area.” 
Sunoo placed his hands on the sides of your face, “We are even closer, and it’s all because of you.” 
You smiled at him, “I really did it.” 
Sunoo kissed your lips, his strawberry chapstick filled your senses. You leaned more into him, breathing him completely in. 
Sunoo couldn’t fight the string of fate much longer. He’s known since you two met that there was something pulling the two of you together, and it was fate. 
You felt Sunoo’s emotions, feeling him give into the string. You sensed the string floating around you both, waiting for you to accept your fate. 
An elf and vampire together? You loved the idea of it. 
You gave into the string of fate, accepting every ounce of love Sunoo had to offer. 
The others felt it too, the bond that you now share with each of them. 
“Oh great, just what we need,” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Another magic user.” 
You pulled away from Sunoo’s lips, sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon, “We are a family now, get over it.” 
Sunghoon half smiled, giving a small nod, “I’ll accept it only because you found where my witch is.” 
“You sure you can’t stay the night?” Sunoo pouted as he stood in front of your apartment door, refusing to let you inside.
You giggled at your soulmate, “Yes! I have a twelve-hour shift to do tomorrow, and if I stay with you I won’t get any sleep.” 
Sunoo pouted even more, “Fine, but I am going to bring you lunch!” 
You kissed his cheek, “I would love it if you brought me lunch.” 
Sunoo moved from the door, letting you unlock the door and walk inside.
Before you could close the door, Sunoo slipped inside, pulling you to his body, and planting his lips onto yours. 
He couldn’t get enough of you. Sunoo dreamed of what it would feel like to have this connection with his soulmate. How it would feel to hold them close and kiss them. To give all the love he had to them. 
And he finally found you. 
“Goodnight, my sweetness,” Sunoo whispered in between kisses, slowly releasing you from his arms and slipping out the door.
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wordstome · 8 months
Text
Shrike pt. 3 - who we are
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König x high school sweetheart reader
2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end
2.8k words
tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)
Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!
also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD
[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]
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What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife
When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.
That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.
It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.
A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?
When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.
But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned.  It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.
It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.
It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.
You’re about to find out.
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An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.
You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.
The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.
You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.
The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.
Fuck.
He’s standing in the kitchen.
The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.
“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.
You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”
“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”
Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.
“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”
Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.
“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”
It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.
A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.
An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.
You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.
“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.
“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.
You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.
The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.
“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.
“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.
The knife makes its home right between his ribs.
He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.
“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.
König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.
Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.
His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.
“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.
“I’m here,” he rumbles.
You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.
“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”
He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.
“I think you were laughing.”
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The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.
You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.
He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?
“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.
Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”
You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.
“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.
“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.
“I was there to kill him, of course.”
You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.
Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”
He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”
You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.
“So…what comes next?”
“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”
Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.
It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.
“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.
“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”
You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.
You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.
You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.
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“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”
The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.
“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”
“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”
You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.
“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.
“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.
“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.
“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”
“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.
“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”
“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”
“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”
“Bite me.”
“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.
“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
“I should push you off this peak right now.”
“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.
“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.
The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.
Or kiss.
“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.
His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”
You cackle. “Go on then.”
“Can I?”
“I just said yes!”
“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.
The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.
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#RIPBOZO
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Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.
Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!
I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.
One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!
As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!
@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta
psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)
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I haven't played less of p, but can keep asking questions!
Do you have any propaganda for playing the game?
hi welcome to the lies of p propaganda
literally a mix of bloodborne and american mcgee's alice when it comes to aesthetic, vibes, themes and battle systems. if you liked either of them and are upset that bloodborne won't get a port and alice won't get a sequel this is a good alternative
the devs confirmed a sequel and a dlc btw. and they're indie so they shouldn't have many problems
INCREDIBLE soundtrack, and here's some examples of my favorites because i need to share quixotic, memory of beach, shattered memories, hall of fame and arche abbey everywhere
the boss fights are difficult, but most of them are very fair and easy to learn the patterns of. while some are clearly fodder... anyone who played a soulsborne game know that every now and then you have to deal with a curse-rotted greatwood or a witch of hemwick if it means you can have a pontiff sulyvan or a lady maria in return!! if you don't mind spoilers i highly recommend checking out the battles with the king of puppets or with champion victor
tackles themes of overcoming grief, different ways to deal with it, rebirth, what it means to be human, being your own person and honestly and lies, with the latter especially being the most prominent one and heavily implying that even if honesty is good, sometimes a lie is a much better option for everyone
INCREDIBLE visuals hello
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i need to talk about how good the monsters design is because body and mechanical horror fans rise UP
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you can actually mix-n-match every single weapons you can find around, not including very overpowered boss weapons, and you can have a cannon arm?? like yes it's far from being the fastest weapon but consider: i can either hit and dash or i can make the boss explode
Your Choices Matter you know when a game promises you that they don't. well they do they DOOO literally every single choice starting with your very first one matter HEAVILY in the end
i can't stress enough how good the characters are, they're all full of life and energy and Love. you get a puppet in love, a beautiful charismatic old woman, a spunky young mechanic, whatever the fuck venigni my dad venigni has going on, an actually pretty fun version of the cricket and even pinocchio, who like most soulsborne seems to have little to no personality, is way more human from the get-go, with a lot of characters noting that he's so easily annoyed by their bigger-than-life personality and dramatique
this game made me cry SO many times between the music the lore and the incredible writing and voice acting. it's weird to say i didn't expect that much from it, like when the first trailer arrived we all went haha bishounen pinocchio bloodborne game, but the various npcs and even some bosses feel so human that inevitably seeing them going through situation destroyed me fr fr
but seriously the small details fuck me up so bad. the fact that pinocchio starts by making heavy mechanical noises whenever he moves and occasionally twitches and makes no noise when he attacks and the more "good ending" choices you make the less mechanical noises he makes and the more he occasionally grunts whenever he's hit is so nice?? they literally change every single one of his animation if you aim for that ending and it's so!!!!! aaaa
and also you can play fashionsouls the clothes have no effect other than being fancy so you can literally wear whatever the fuck you want and i, personally, find it very fun. big fan of the workshop master clothes btw that was my main until i unlocked the white clothes
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i could go on but it would fall in spoilers territory fnasdmg point is. play lies of p
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Hi, I have a request: Could you do Angel Dust x Human Reader in platonic way? Where Reader have magic skills and, for a mistake of a spell, fall in hell and meet Angel Dust.
(I don’t see much fan fiction where Hazbin Hotel characters interact with human reader and I hope this can be possible)
Thank you
omg yes!!! i loved this idea so so much! thank you for your patience as i did this request and i hope you enjoy it!
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down the rabbit hole
rated: G
the spell was supposed to be simple. a simple spell that was to protect your home and transport any negativity away from your home. but after you chanted the last spell for it, you heard rumbling that grew louder. your dog, luna, whined as she darted closer to you and the rumbling increased.
“shit. how are we getting an earthquake?” you ask yourself out loud, not thinking anything of the shaking yet. that is until the ground started to fall away from your feet. your eyes widen as you see a maroon ground and desolate surroundings. your feet glued to where you were as you tried to run and pull luna with you, but to no avail. your scream echoed as you and luna fell through the portal and landed on the ground. your breath knocked from your lungs as luna landed on top of you. you look at her and the around you, seeing a city, but more conveniently a large building that showed it was the “hazbin hotel”. you blinked and murmured to luna to keep close by as she whined and followed you.
shakily making it up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, anxiety clutching in your chest as you froze. a soft lick on your hand pulling you out of your paralysis as you look at luna and sigh.
“okay, girl. i just have to knock right?” you ask, posing your hand to do so, when the door suddenly opens.
“well, hello there-“ the voice is cut off as you scream, startled and step back. luna takes this as whoever was there as a threat and lunges. your mind catches up to your body as you scream at her to heel. not before a very high pitched scream comes from whoever opened the door and they fall back. you, holding luna, look at the… man? deer? person. he was on the ground and his arms in front of his face, subtly shaking.
“i am so sorry. that was my fault. you startled me and she thought i was in danger.” you explain as you tell luna to sit and stay, and you walk over to help the red deer man up. he glares up at you, looking like he was going to have some snarky comment, when his eyes widen.
“where are you from?” he asks, getting up himself and brushing off his coat like nothing happened. you blink for a moment, and straighten up.
“i’m from california?” you answer, framing it more like a question. his glare is unamused as he stands up straight.
“no, where are you from, what ring? you don’t look hell born.” he says, his eyes narrowing in distrust.
“i-um-i don’t know how to answer that. i’m from earth. i guess? i’m a witch, and i did a spell and i think it went wrong. where am i, actually?” you ask.
“oh yer in hell toots.” a voice comes down the stairs. “charlie we got a new one!” the white spider yells up the stairs, still consumed on their phone. you blink.
“is everyone animals down here?” you ask, but before you can get an answer, a woman with blonde hair bounds down excitedly.
“oh another guest! are you ready to be-“ her eyes widen looking at you. “redeemed?” she trails off, her face scrunching in confusion.
“are you an angel?” another woman, who is next to the blonde asks. you blink owlishly at them.
“i mean, i’ve had compliments before, but if i look that much like an angel, thank you?” you say and the woman shakes her head.
“no, you’re an angel.” her face distorting into anger as she pulls out a spear. “why are you here?” she yells as you back up. luna jumping in front of you and growling. everyone takes a step back at that.
“oh my fuck. is that a dog?” the white spider demon asks, and walking up to luna. luna’s growls deepen and you tell her to heel again.
“be nice.” you mutter to her as she whines and sniffs the spider demons outstretched hand. deeming him a worthy friend, goes over and sits in front of them for pets. “you can pet her. she’s fine.” you say, looking at the spider demon and smiling.
“i haven’t pet a dog in almost 80 years…” he trailed off.
“that’s a dog? from earth?” the blonde squeals and goes over, mimicking the way the spider demon introduced himself and then petting luna too.
“so, let me get this straight… i’m in hell?” you ask. the red deer nods, standing far away from luna.
“yes. you are in hell. but why don’t you look like demon spawn is beyond me.” he provides.
“probably because i didn’t die.” you conclude. “im assuming you all were born here or died and ended up here, right.” there were murmurs of agreement.
“except vaggie,” the blonde points to the spear wielding girl, “she’s a fallen angel.” you nod.
“heaven that bad?” you ask.
“you have no idea.” she deadpans.
“so, i apologize if this is rude, but who are you all?” you ask.
“oh my goodness! i don’t introduce myself!” the blonde exclaims getting up and rushing over to you. “i’m charlie! charlie morningstar. and this is the hazbin hotel. a place where sinners can be rehabilitated and go to heaven.” your eye brows raise at that.
“morningstar, as in lucifer morningstar?” you ask, a bit shocked.
“that’s the very one!” she exclaims.
“how is he? he’s felt a bit off recently, and hasn’t liked the offerings i’ve put out.” you ask as charlie looks at you confused.
“you know my dad?” her head tilted in confusion.
“well, not really. i work with him, in my practice. i’m a witch.” you explain.
“oh, like alastor!” charlie says, making a connection. you look over to where she pointed at the red deer demon, alastor you assumed.
“i don’t think she deals in my magic, charlie.” alastor explains.
“what is your magic?” you ask, curious.
“partially voodoo.” he looks at you and smiles.
“oh, goodness no. my family doesn’t practice voodoo, and that is a closed practice i respect. but more power to ya man!” you say, nodding at him. he tilts his head at you curiously and you look over at luna now on her back and the spider demon rubbing her stomach.
“if you rub her chest to her stomach in one fell swoop, she’ll be your best friend.” you laugh as the spider demon looks at you, does that and watches as luna’s tail wags quicker. he laughs and does it again.
“oh my god, i’m in love.” he says, petting her ears.
“that’s angel.” charlie explains. you smile and nod, until a new person descends the stairs and calls out for charlie.
“charlie, sweetie!” the voice says, getting louder coming down the stairs. “you don’t happen to know where my hat is, do you?” you look curiously at the man, who is barely taller than you, his eyes fixed on his jacket not looking up.
“ummm… no, dad. also. i want you to meet…” charlie looks at you. “i never asked your name.”
“oh! it’s y/n. it’s a pleasure to actually meet you in the flesh lord lucifer.” you say, bowing your head slightly. he stops and looks at you, looking taken aback.
“you didn’t die y/n, why are you down here?” he says coming over to you and grasping your arms.
“i was doing that protection spell for the house and i think i fucked it up.” you say, a bit downtrodden.
“don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetie. we all make mistakes and luckily i can get you back up to earth.” he says, smiling at you.
“thank you. it’s a wonder to actually meet you. i was worried, you hadn’t liked many of my offerings.” you said and he looked bashful.
“how do you guys know each other?” charlie asks.
“well, i work with lucifer in my practice, like i said before.” you say.
“she’s a witch charlie. there are many different types of witches, but there are some who have the gifts to communicate with beings outside of earth, or choose to honor certain beings through what earth calls offerings. they can be food, trinkets, etc.” lucifer continued to explain.
“they’re a form of devotion. and there are many different types of relationships you can have. i work with your dad for help with my spell work, i’ve been working with him for almost 10 years now. not so long to him, but a long time to me.” you finish.
“i had no idea…” charlie explained.
“that’s why i said about the offerings and your dad not liking them. i can normally get a vibe.” you laugh. “maybe i need to put more apples?” you ask, chuckling. lucifer chuckling with you.
“nah, just put a damn rubbah duck.” angel says, still petting luna. “he loves ‘em!” you look to lucifer and he shrugs.
“i do like ducks.” he bows his head, bashfully.
“noted.” you say as you walk over to angel and luna, sitting with them. you smile at angel and pet luna’s head and sigh.
“so, how do i get outta here?” you ask, looking at lucifer.
“how about ya nevah leave and luna stays here. she’d love fat nuggets!” angel exclaims.
“fat nuggets?” you ask.
“my pet pig. sweetest little doll eva.” angel says, leaning to you like he was telling you a secret. you smile and coo at that.
“i’m going to need to get an asmodeon crystal from lust and then i will be back. stay here until i get back all right?” lucifer said, materializing a portal and getting ready to step through it. you salute him in understanding and he disappears.
“that means we’ve got more time to talk and i’ve got more time to let this dog!” angel exclaims, laying down next to luna who was fast asleep now. you laugh and look around.
“it seems i do.”
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petals2fish · 1 month
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This is part of a fic I’m working on for release this summer called “Lovely” hehe plz enjoy the micro version of the fic for @jilymicrofics DAY ONE!!! eeeee happy April!!
“I want my life to be perfect and easy and kind and good.” She placed her face in her hands, hiding the tears there. “But it’s all just messy and hard and mean and sad.”
James’ jaw clenched as he realized he’d walked into his fake girlfriend having a mental breakdown over something that was partially his fault. He slowly saw down cross legged beside her broken form. His hand rested gently on her back and he winced when she flinched away from it.
“Life is never perfect or easy,” he whispered, “kindness gets you as far as the person you’re talking with and good is such a relative term. What makes a life good?”
She sniffled, “money, friends, perfect OWLs.”
“No, Lily. Those are all just things that make life easier,” James argued. “What makes life good, Lily? What makes goosebumps rise up your arms? What makes you smile when no one else is talking? What makes you feel good? Music? Laughter? Sunshine? What makes you feel like everything is gonna be okay?”
Green eyes lifted. It felt like he was hit in the stomach by a stunner, the second those watery emeralds fell onto him. Her lower lip was pointed out, a little wobbly with emotion.
“You.” She said.
James blinked. Once. Twice. A third time just to be sure. Her face remained unmoved.
“Is this a prank?”
Her throat bobbed when she swallowed. “No, you do make me feel like everything will be okay, you’re doing it right now.”
James put his face in his hands now, feeling red creep into his cheeks. “Please don’t do this,” he said, “you don’t have to fake it when we’re alone.”
“I don’t fake it at all.” Her voice remained steady as his heart picked up the pace. “I have always fancied you.”
He peered over to find her wiping the tears still falling with the back of her hand. “What?”
She looked so put out, for someone who had just confessed feelings. “I just—you were so popular and I didn’t think you’d ever look my way for a second but then you came up with this stupid plan and I went along with it because I—I wanted to know what it would be like…for life to be perfect.”
James ruffled his hair, “you just said it was imperfect.”
God, her eyes could cut him like daggers. “It’s because I’m trying not to love you, James.”
“I have that effect on most witches.”
She ignored his jest and replied with heavy words yet again. She could talk for days, one of the most endearing parts about her was her rambling. He could listen to her forever.
“Do you know how hard and frustrating it has been to have everyone ask if I’ve been putting out because there’s no other way on earth James Potter would date me? Do you know how mean it is to sit down next to people and have them be nice to your face only to call you a nerdy slag behind your back? Not only that but I have a fake boyfriend who is absolutely perfect from his head to his toes and he’s just fake! You and I are fake! And it’s eating me alive to know in any other circumstance we would have never kissed or laughed or gone for those stupid dates! I just wanted to be you—“
James couldn’t take it, he shoved his mouth against hers just to shut her up. A startled sound was emitted from her throat but soon she was kissing him back, her tongue tasting his between angle switchbacks. James wound his hands into her hair, just like he’d done in the library, keeping her face plastered to his like she would change her mind.
“Sorry for cutting you off, but you’re just so fucking cute when you rant,” he said when she started planting kisses along his jawline.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, “s’fine.”
James pulled her into his lap as he warned her, “and by the way, nothing about how I feel for you is fake.”
Her lips paused right below his ear and she asked, “what do you mean?”
James’ hands curved around her arse. “I mean when I feel like the world is crashing down, you make me feel good too.”
👍🏼🤪💁🏽‍♀️🎷☺️📚💋💎
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vasito-de-leche · 3 months
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;R1999 HORROPEDIA - "night terrors"
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Horropedia x Reader. 2.3 words. fluff, comfort Everyone knows better than to intrude on Horropedia's all-nighters and horror film marathons - even so, he doesn't mind interruptions, not if it's you. Maybe these movies can wait.
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writing for Horropedia is the real nightmare bc all I wanna do is expand on little headcanons I have about him, so I end up losing the entire plot and reason I started the oneshot in the first place
EITHER WAY its done <3 another one for the sleepytime saga
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The clock reads 3:00 AM - the witching hour begins now.
The weather outside seems to agree with him. Darkness falls over the wilderness that surrounds the house, with thick, grey clouds above and just the right amount of rain and wind. Enough to set a proper atmosphere for a horror movie marathon, but not as to distract him with the constant banging of windows and doors being closed shut.
Horropedia feels around the table for his snacks, eyes glued to the screen in front of him, the only source of light in his room. He's chosen one of his favorite films to begin with and ease himself into a long list of terrible B-movie slashers.
It's hard to eat popcorn when all he can focus on is reciting the dialogue from memory, in perfect harmony with the characters. Some kernels fall to the ground, entirely forgotten. The title drops with a bright, bloody font and the music swells up. He feels right at home.
But then, he hears it.
Faint steps. A gentle knock on his door.
Is this it? Is this the moment he waited for all these years? To live through some unusual and inexplicable event? Oh, but it's not even his birthday!
Horropedia pauses the movie and clears his throat. "Yes? Who is it?"
The door slowly creaks open. He swears it was locked.
There's no one outside in the empty hallway.
Silence settles in and his mind begins to race. It's too late for any of his usual guests - neither Tooth Fairy nor Blonney would go out of their way to find him at this hour. By now, everyone should be asleep. Even the more rebellious and nocturnal guests preferred to mind their business as soon as the night came.
The smile on Horropedia's face widens at this. He doesn't know who could be out there at this ungodly hour, trying to lure him outside, but he wanted to find out badly.
All he needs to do is follow the script. Oh, but what sort of protagonist could he play? There was a big difference between an innocent question like "Who's out there?" and a demand like "Show yourself!"
Full of giddy energy, Horropedia opens his mouth, ready to deliver his best performance, when a small voice interrupts him.
"Oh, thank fuck, you're actually awake."
A familiar head peeks out from the door frame - it's you, his partner in crime! The disappointment on his face must be visible even in this light, because he hears you huff in immediate protest. Horropedia sighs, long and hard, feeling his soul leave his body.
"Hey, come on. Can I come in or not?"
"You already know the answer to that," Horropedia crawls back onto the sofa, dropping face down onto the pillows and blankets with loud thud. First you make his heart leap in vain, and now you want to ask unnecessary questions?
Perhaps he wasn't clear enough in previous interactions with you - but as his partner in crime and closest confidant, you should know better. This is an exclusive privilege he bestowed upon you and only you: to come and go as you please and treat his room like your own.
When he speaks again, it comes out muffled and defeated. "Mwake fure to cwose the dwoor..."
"...What?"
Horropedia raises his head from the pillow, glasses crooked and hairpins all over his head, doing a poor job at keeping the hair out of his eyes.
"Door!" And then he plops back down.
He knows its silly and irrational to get so worked up over something like this, a small interruption, just a little setback in his carefully scheduled night. All he needs to do is count and breathe.
One, two, three. It's not that bad, he can simply rewind the movie and start from the beginning. Besides, now he has you here! The perfect companion for a marathon. Four, five, six. It's hard to breathe properly when all he's getting is a lungful of couch, but soon, that frustration in his chest dissipates. Seven, eight, nine...Ten.
Horropedia turns his head to look at you, standing in front of him after locking the door.
"So, to what do I owe this visi- OW?!" He yelps in surprise once you pinch his leg, and he recoils and sits up on instinct, rubbing that sore spot. "Hey! That was uncalled for! What happened to our peace treaty?"
"Yeah, but now I get to sit down, so it's a win."
There's something off in the way you speak - it's your tone, lower and raspier than usual. Horropedia leans closer to you, squinting. Something else catches his eye, other than the way you avoid looking at him.
"Why are your eyes red and puffy?"
Even though all he has is the faint light of the TV screen, he sees it. The red marks in your eyes, the dried tears across your cheeks - you should've known by now, it's impossible to hide anything from his watchful and attentive eyes.
Horropedia's initial thoughts are allergies, but it seems unlikely in a closed space like this house. He remains still as a statue as your expression turns into one of shock, the question catching you entirely off-guard. When you fully turn away from him to rub your eyes, he knows something is wrong.
"On second thought, that was a very dumb question. Allow me to rectify - why were you crying?" He receives no response, and so he settles for finding an answer himself.
There's the uneven rise and fall of your chest, as if you were trying very hard to hold in a second wave of tears. Your hands have turned into trembling fists on your lap, and your shoulders are tense. Did you argue with someone? No, there's no one awake at this hour. In the stillness of the night, everyone would've heard it, anyway. For you to be in such a state, seeking him out this late at night...
"Ah," Horropedia's eyes soften as it all clicks into place. "Another dumb question. But third time's the charm, my friend! May I try again?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. His hand slides into your own, gently forcing you to stop clenching your fists and interlocking your fingers and his together with ease. Like this, he can hold you steady and ground you back to reality.
"Was it a very scary nightmare?"
The way Horropedia speaks is often louder than what is commonly expected, rarely changing from that perpetual matter-of-factly, cheeky tone he's known for. But now? He's gentle, endeared by the way you stubbornly continue to hide from him.
There's a nod, and you finally turn to face him. It's a heartbreaking sight, with your face tilted down, looking up at him like you've done something wrong. You allow your hair to fall over your eyes in one last effort to conceal this vulnerable moment, but Horropedia won't allow it.
Now that he's older, Horropedia finds it difficult and, at times, stupid to cry over things he knows aren't real - those nonsensical dreams caused by watching too many horror movies, reading scary stories before bedtime or any lingering events from his daily routine. But when he was just a child waking up in the middle of the night, tears streaming down his eyes, his first instinct was the same: to run as fast as he could into his grandfather's arms, the one person who could chase away all those night terrors.
Tonight is the night he steps up to reverse those roles. Horropedia wants nothing more than to offer you that same feeling of safety.
"There's three things we can do right now. One, we can pretend nothing happened and you can join me to watch movies until the sun rises or until we pass out from exhaustion, whichever comes first. Two, we can go raid the kitchen right now for some comfort food - lucky for you, I know where everyone hides their favorite snacks."
He pauses just enough to pique your interest, giving you one of his mysterious, cheeky smiles. "Three, you lay down with me and tell me all about this nightmare you had, so I can judge and nitpick all the scary elements in it."
That earns a little chuckle from you, a massive improvement from your pitiful expression back then - that's enough to seal your fate.
Horropedia slowly takes off his glasses and sets them on the table, before pulling you into a hug and falling onto the plush cushions. He makes sure to lay by the edge of the couch with you nestled safely inside, his body fully shielding you from the light of the TV screen. There's just enough space to lay down together like this, as long as you remain pressed up against his chest.
This is a first for him, for someone who struggles with this type of contact and rarely initiates it, and yet it feels as natural as breathing when it comes to you. It feels right, and he guesses he must be doing something right when you nuzzle and curl up into him, content and comfortable.
There's no trace of that fear from before. That tense atmosphere is fully gone, replaced with something that feels just like home - it's like he's 13 again, staying up late at night, having fun and doing things that the Foundation would never approve of, those illicit sleepovers under the safety of his blanket. But this time, he has you by his side.
Horropedia is painfully aware of his lack of skill when it comes to romance - he still pets your head the same way one would pet a dog rather than a person - but he can't bring himself to care in the slightest about all these rules and guidelines when he hears you laugh and complain about his cold hands on the small of your back. Then, he feels you poke at his monster slippers with your foot.
"You're still wearing these?" Before he can reply, you kick them off and they fall unceremoniously onto the floor. "They're so lame."
Horropedia deadpans. "You literally have a matching pair."
"Yeah, some nerdy nerd gave them to me."
He realizes you're joking when you avoid his eyes in an attempt to hide that smug grin, choosing to trace the colorful patterns and slasher killers depicted on his shirt instead. Somehow, he feels his heart skip a beat at this.
"Hey! I don't recall giving you the fourth option of making fun of me all night! Now, will you share that nightmare you had, or should we wait until I die from the suspense?"
This time, you're the one who catches him off-guard by cupping his face and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. Feeling the warmth rise from his neck to the tip of his ears, Horropedia is left momentarily speechless. Perhaps he still needs a little more time to ease into this whole physical touch thing. Nonetheless, he remains docile under your touch, especially when you begin to play with his hair.
"It's funny," you begin speaking, carefully untangling the hairclips out of that mess of brown hair, undoing his ponytail. "I can't even remember what it was about, at least not all of it. It just feels... Like it was something very dumb, even if it made me cry. I guess it's that whole thing you keep saying, about how psychological horror is scarier because there's no actual tangible monster or creature or whatever to blame for everything."
"Thank you! Finally, someone who thinks alike! The whole fear factor is greatly reduced when you can see the origin of all these supernatural or scary, inexplicable events. Humanity's biggest enemy is their own mind, and to us arcanists is our emotions. That's why, to some people, ghosts are scarier than robbers - which makes sense, despite being entirely illogical at the same time..."
It's hard to stop once he gets going, and so Horropedia continues talking, so immersed in his own thoughts and theories that he doesn't even register the way you've wrapped both arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest and breathing him in.
Every so often, you give him a weak, drowsy reply and he only realizes you've fallen asleep when all he hears is your gentle snoring. The movie continues to play in the background, but all of his senses are focused on you.
Had it been anyone else, Horropedia would've been offended. But it's you we're talking about. One of the very few people who pay attention to what he says, who cares enough to sit through hours of ramblings and to debate him on things he might've missed or overlooked. Who would never think of changing the way he is.
There's stars in his eyes when he looks down at your sleeping form, absolutely mesmerized. Usually, you're the one helping him through the tedious social interactions, to understand when he might be overstepping or acting rudely. In a sea of blank, emotionless and confusing faces, yours is the one he looks for guidance and solace. When nothing makes sense and he's lost in an abundance of unspoken rules of conduct, discipline and etiquette, your voice is the one that rises above all.
He may not know how to show it, he may not even realize it himself, but his appreciation for you runs deeper than his love for horror. Horropedia is honored to know that, just this once, he was able to help you. That he's the first one you sought out at your most vulnerable.
Horropedia presses his lips to the top of your head - a gentle, feathery kiss as to not disturb your sleep. And he remains there, your anchor to reality, as his eyelids feel heavier and heavier. The last thing he remembers before sleep takes over is your voice, not quite awake and not quite asleep, thanking him.
What are you even thanking him for, silly? Have you forgotten already? It's fine, because Horropedia will always be there to remind you: you can always count on him, no matter what.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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Eddie is sixteen and his magic is incredibly volatile. He's powerful and he has trouble not accidentally casting when his emotions are high (which is always) or casting on a whim, not being careful enough of his words, and suffering the unintended consequences. Wayne ends up hiding the grimoires and family journals until Eddie learns a little more control, and is the first to realize that Eddie casts better while he's playing music. They develop a system, by no means perfect, where Eddie composes a song based on how the spell feels.
Sixteen is also the year Eddie falls in love. He's always known he liked boys, but never thought about relationships. He lives in Hawkins and is a witch, for god's sake. He sneaks off to Indy, goes to bars, but can't imagine having something like a boyfriend.
Jackson is new in town, already 17 but in Eddie's grade. It starts as friendship, but before long Jackson kisses him. Eddie thinks it's like a fairytale. It ends when Jackson's military dad is transferred to a base overseas. It's mundane. It rips Eddie's heart to shreds.
After, Eddie does a spell. He knows he shouldn't; he's too upset and his magic is unpredictable at the best of times. He doesn't care. He grabs his guitar, starts playing. The song is melodic, layered, sad. He starts babbling, casting a spell to never fall in love by creating the most beautiful, unrealistic boy in the world. He won't remember some of what he says--and that's a problem-- but knows he talks about a boy with a map of the night sky on his body, the loneliest king, the prettiest man in Hawkins, jock with a heart of gold, lover of nerds and small children, throws himself into danger with little thought for the consequences, shockingly kind, fantastically mean. He knows this person can't be real, too many contradictions, too many impossibilities.
Enter Steve Harrington.
Eddie knows Steve. Everyone does. And sure, the guy is hot as hell, but the worst kind of douchebag jock, so Eddie never really considers him worth thinking of. And that would probably continue, but his new Hellfire recruits think the sun shines out of Harrington's ass, and apparently Robin Buckley is his best friend. It doesn't add up and Eddie's usually great at math.
Time passes and he starts to get it. He watches Dustin and Harrington do the dorkiest, nerdiest handshake and the joy that contorts Steve's face. It's so fucking beautiful, Eddie has to look away. He comes upon Harrington and Erica Sinclair bickering, both smart-assing, listens to the way Erica giggles about it once she thinks no one can hear. Or when he watches Steve drop Max Mayfield at home--Max who Eddie has never once seen smile, who he's always been just a little bit afraid of--and she's laughing and teasing him, beaming.
It's inevitable when they become friends. Steve is a wonder. Constantly a surprise. So pretty it's like looking directly at the sun. When Steve tells Eddie that he's bisexual, it drops off his tongue with no hint of unease, no consideration for how he's upending Eddie's world view.
One night they're getting high, just the two of them, and he's asking if Steve wants to shotgun and Steve smirks and leans in, and then they're kissing. Doing way more than kissing.
They keep hooking up, but it's nothing. It's Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who wants the all-American white picket fence, wife, 2.5 kids, and a dog. Not a dnd playing-metalhead-nerd-witch dude. And if Eddie feels himself growing inexplicably more and more fond, well, he's made damn sure love isn't in the cards for him anymore.
They're laying in Eddie's bed one night, Eddie tracing gentle fingers between the moles and freckles on Steve's back.
"That tickles," Steve murmurs. "What are you doing?"
"Mapping the constellations," he whispers.
Steve's laugh vibrates Eddie's ribcage, as does the rumble of his voice saying, "my mom used to do that when I was a kid. Said she was looking for the big dipper."
He presses his lips against the top of Steve's spine to stop from saying something unkind about his parents, who never loved their absolute gift of a son enough, leaving him lonely and forgotten in that big, cold house. He freezes as soon as he has the thought, remembers that spell. It's nothing, of course. The spell was to repel love, not get Steve Harrington into his bed.
They keep sleeping together, spend almost all their time together. Eddie's enamored but it doesn't matter. Steve isn't his, not really, and never will be. Eddie made sure of it.
But one day Steve comes over and sees this old Casio keyboard Gareth brought over.
Steve flips it on, starts hitting notes; at first dicking around, but then sliding into Clare de Lune.
"You play the piano?" Eddie asks. He knows he has a dopey smile on his face, his heart doing something terrible in his chest even though he's not in love.
"Took lessons until I was ten," Steve smiles up at him, blushing when their eyes meet.
Eddie has to walk away or he's going to do something like drop to one knee and propose. Steve keeps playing, transitioning from Debussy to something infinitely sweeter, so sad it makes Eddie's heart ache.
He stands in the doorway to his bedroom for at least thirty seconds, before storming back into the living room. "What are you playing?" he demands.
It startles Steve, whose fingers still as he looks at Eddie with giant eyes. "Uh, I don't know. It gets stuck in my head sometimes. I thought it was Ozzy or Dio or whatever. It only happens when we're together. You don't recognize it?"
Eddie recognizes it. Eddie recognizes it and Steve shouldn't know it. Eddie didn't write it down , just like he didn't write down the words of the spell.
"Get out," he says. Mean because he's trying not to fall apart.
"What? Eds, what're y--"
"No, you need to leave, Harrington. Right fucking now."
"Eddie, tell me what I did. Let me fix it, please."
"Not on you. But you have to go," Eddie is shaking and Steve's eyes fill with tears.
He doesn't fight, though. His mouth pinches and he shoves his way outside.
Eddie panics and cries, tries to remember as much of that fucking spell as he can before Wayne comes home.
The first words out of Wayne's mouth when he sees Eddie curled up on the couch are, "What'd you do this time, kid?"
He spills it all, every last detail, and Wayne listens in silence, eyebrows peaked.
"It's that Harrington boy?" He asks when the tale is told.
"How'd you know?" Eddie asks.
"Are you kidding me? I see the way you look at each other. You love him?"
Eddie nods, burying his face in his knees. "He doesn't want this, though. He only likes me because I fucking spelled him to."
Wayne rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Kid, I thought I taught you magic better than that. Better go make things right while you can. Then we're going to have a long talk."
Eddie wants to ask what the point is in making it right. It's already too late, after what he's done. Still, he makes the drive to Loch Nora.
Steve opens the door in sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt, his hair undone. He's sad, Eddie realizes.
"You here to tell me what I did yesterday?"
"Like I said, it wasn't you. Can I come in?"
Steve nods, steps aside.
"Well?" Steve prompts.
Eddie explains exactly what he did four years ago, what it lead them to. When he finishes, he braces for Steve's anger, for yelling. Instead, Steve throws his head back and laughs.
"You're not mad?" Eddie asks. "Or you're so mad that all you can do is laugh?"
"Not mad," Steve confirms.
"Why not? How can you trust me now? Trust this?" He gestures between them.
"I don't know, dude. It's not like you...designed me, or something. I didn't wake up one day when I was fifteen with a bunch of new moles. I told you about my mom. Plus, that would be medically concerning. And I definitely already had crushes on other boys. So, you didn't make me bi."
"What about being kind? What about the kids and being protective?"
Steve just shrugs. "I think a lot of that was due to Nancy, but I guess I can't stay it wasn't the spell."
"You're too calm about this. I took away your free will!"
"Did you?" Steve raises an eyebrow, way too unbothered. "Maybe the spell brought us together. Took a damn long time to do it, but I don't feel like I have no choice in this." He turns more towards Eddie, taking his hands. "I like what we have. But if you don't feel that way, we can end it."
It's Eddie's turn to laugh. "Not feel that way? Harrington, I don't know if you've heard, but you're the man of my dreams. I am, unfortunately, wildly in love with you. I just--this isn't what you want, right? Not forever. You want a wife. Kids. All that shit."
"Who says? We could have a family, Eds, if we want. Hell, we already do! We're raising six kids. And, yeah, maybe I will decide I want a wife and all that one day. I'm 90% sure nothing magical is stopping me. The only thing that is, the thing that matters, is that I want you. Not because of a spell." Steve smiles, face turning a delicious pink. "But because I love you too."
He squeezes his eyes shut to force back the tears that want to fall, kisses Steve instead. Their mouths slide together in perfect sync, and Eddie wants to get lost in it forever; in Steve's lips on his, the snag of his teeth, the way he clutches at Eddie's curls.
When they pull apart, Steve starts laughing again. "I can't believe I'm your perfect man."
"Oh my god," Eddie's face flares with heat. "You have to forget this ever happened. Your ego's too big as it is."
"Nah, this? This I'm remembering forever."
They kiss for a long time before Steve says, "I think I understand why that song was so sad now. You should write us a new one."
Eddie pulls Steve close, thinking that he'll write Steve whatever he wants for the rest of their lifetime.
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ceruleanwhore · 4 months
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As I've been working on outlining the shit out of my Winx rewrite, I've been thinking a lot about how all the villains in the series desperately need to be treated like actual characters and given real motives. I know everyone loves Valtor and the Trix and the wizards of the black circle, but they're all equally boring as fuck because they're all just generically, black-and-white evil for no real reason. As such, I've started to come up with some potential backstories/motives for all of them, and I thought I'd share since I'd also love some feedback.
Something I think the series set up like it was going to do something with is the idea of the Trix having some sort of connection to the Ancestral Witches. If we keep what seems like the most canon timeline they appear to have settled on in the show, that the fall of Domino and everything happened about 18 years prior to season 3, then it wouldn't be unreasonable for the Trix to be the witches' granddaughters. I like the idea of that connection to the Ancestral Witches being the main thing that originally brought them together into their coven and that, as soon as they discover Bloom's true identity, their primary goal is killing her to finish what the witches started. With this, of course, would be the omission of bullshit rivalry between fairies and witches, though their ongoing conflict with the Winx could still start with Stella's ring, like in the original.
With Valtor, I would want him to be a person rather than a physical manifestation of the dragon flame that was made by the Ancestral Witches. I just think it would make him more interesting for him to have an origin story as a human, living in the world, that leads to his eventual corruption rather than him just being made evil by evil for evil. I have this vision of him coming from some country that was an ally of Domino but when something happened and they needed Domino's help, their allies turned their backs on them, inspiring Valtor's blossoming hatred for them as he personally suffered and watched the fallout of that betrayal. This all would've happened with the previous king and queen before Oritel and Marion btw, but it would take him a hot minute to learn the dark arts in order to pursue his revenge.
What I'd love to see is Valtor actually learning dark magic from Darkar, since I do also think Darkar should be a bigger deal than he was in canon. By learning from the Shadow Phoenix, who is the opposite of the Great Dragon, I feel like his magic would be both better suited to going against the dragon flame and more vulnerable to it. That would also bring back in some sort of dragon flame element without Valtor being a spark of the flame itself like in canon. So Valtor would gather the witches and attack Domino for personal revenge, with his focus being on ending the royal family, hence the way it all turned out with Daphne being a ghost, Oritel being a statue, Marion being sealed in his sword(?), and Bloom getting dumped out of a portal to spare her from the culling.
As for the wizards, I want them to be from Earth and for all their beef to be with Tir Na Og instead of just... all fairies, for no real reason. What I'm thinking is that Tir Na Og is the bridge between the Magic Dimension and Earth, so I take that to mean that Earth doesn't have any real magic of its own and what they have all comes from through Tir Na Og. Because of this imbalance that's so different from how the Magic Dimension is, that could put Earth-dwelling magic users in a position of power over non-magical people, and perhaps that all really starts with and is encouraged/exacerbated by the king and queen of the Earth fairies. I'm thinking it would be the sort of thing where they would've convinced all the non-magical people of Earth that they are deities of some kind and then abuse the shit out of the power and trust that gives them.
The wizards would've seen all the problems that would come with this abuse of power and would seek to destroy it. Knowing that all magic on Earth comes from Tir Na Og's connection to the Magic Dimension, they would decide to target Tir Na Og and take away the magic of all the magic users there before sealing the kingdom off from the Magic Dimension entirely. Their mission when they show up in s4 then becomes keeping Roxy from reconnecting Earth and the Magic Dimension and bringing back all the issues they originally sought to end.
Lastly, just to touch on Darkar, my main thing with him is that it really should be all about how he's the opposite of the dragon, so where the dragon flame creates, Darkar's shadows can only either mimic what already exists or destroy. Just as much as the creative nature of the dragon flame contributes to the dragon's desire to create, the nature of Darkar's powers contribute to his own desires to deceive and to destroy. It's not just that he's evil for the sake of it, he's evil to us because of the inherent nature of his magical abilities and how he himself is the living embodiment of what his powers represent, which I think adds sufficient depth for him to stop being so fucking boring. Also, Relix wouldn't just be the home of some McGuffin he's been chasing the whole time, I think it would actually be the resting place of the Great Dragon and his main goal would be the absolute destruction of everything (including himself) that could only be achieved by killing the dragon.
Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions? Should I go on and also dither on about villains from later seasons?
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rogueddie · 10 months
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Ghost Steddie Fics
Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 👻
That's one romantic poltergeist.
Appledagger
t's been three weeks. Everybody in Hawkins is coping in their own way and Steve Harrington is no exception. But coping might not be the word that describes what he is doing.
"Steve, do you believe in ghosts?"
Words : 94,643 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
Sometimes You Scare me (but I Come around to You)
Capriciously_Terminal
Steve Harrington clearly had a thing about this abandoned mall. Which, like, fair. Most people probably had a thing about this mall. That was why the two of them were in said mall (let in by the real estate agent who spiked to camera each time they asked her cursory questions about if she’d seen anything or how many people had come in to poke around) poking trashcans and looking for ghosts.
Eddie’s looking for ghosts for the cash and the chance to take a photo with one to show Wayne. It would be the kind of thing Eddie would keep in his wallet (which was mostly empty because as it turned out ghost-hunting wasn’t great for cash).
Steve Harrington, meanwhile, is an enigma wrapped in tight little polos.
Words : 2,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone
Anonymous
When Steve goes to the old moldy girls bathroom everyone avoids to summon a ghost, he is hoping for a supernatural solution that will help him get over his ex.
The plan was NOT to fall in love with said ghost instead. Fuck.
Words : 9,041 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
the ghost of you
MentallyUndone
Eddie has been seeing ghosts for a while now and there's one ghost in particular that has been incessant in seeking him out. It's almost like they think he's the answer to all of their problems, but you really can't bring someone back from the dead (even though they're always asking for the miracle itself).
Words : 2,272 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Not Rated
AO3 : x
i met your ghost (he followed me)
hexiewrites
Steve Harrington was losing his mind.
At least, he's pretty sure that’s what was happening, considering he kept seeing the ghost of a boy he let die, and it was starting to drive him actually crazy, in the Pennhurst kind of way.
Except.
Except he’d also always been a little bit gullible, always willing to jump into danger, to look at a situation that probably would be crazy and instead of turning and running, to drive right in. So instead of dealing with the ghost the way one probably should (which is to ignore it and maybe buy some holy water) Steve does the opposite.
And Eddie Munson, who is pretty sure he is not a ghost, is, as always, really fucking glad he does.
Words : 30,267 Chapters : 7/7 Rating : Explicit
AO3 : x
A Ghost In Your Mirror Is Worth Two On Your Couch
ForevermoreNevermore
Steve has the unmitigated gall to not only haunt Eddie, but look pretty handsome doing it. He also maybe fills him on on the unimaginable terrors occupying the small town of Hawkins, but that's besides the point.
Words : 4,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Ghosts of Music Past
kissmejusttokissme
There is a ghost living in Dustin’s Garage and only Steve can see him.
Words : 1,714 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
love is like ghosts
kkpwnall
They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.
“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.
Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.
It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.
Words : 7,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
scar-crossed lovers.
througheden
He knows Steve won’t hear him, and imagines that he won’t feel him, but he hops down from the roof and stands in front of him anyways, directly between Steve and their friends looking on, and wraps translucent arms around his shoulders. He hugs him the best he can, the way he should’ve when they split up for the battle that would eventually kill him.
“I’m so sorry, Steve. I’m so, so sorry.”
He doesn’t feel the warmth he knows he would’ve had he stuck to the plan and been brave enough to hug Steve in victory, rather than in mourning.
Words : 3,571 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
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sitp-recs · 10 months
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Happy Friday, friends! I’ve never done monthly wrap ups before but since Wireless pulled me back from a brief hiatus, I thought it would be cool to share some things I’ve been reading, that could use more love. 10 fics both old and new, Drarry and rare pairs, Wireless treats; pick your poison and have fun! 🙌
Drarry
Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 7k) - brilliant concept perfectly executed, I’m so here for curse-breaking colleagues who fuck at the job to pass time and then forget about it every time 🤌🏼 genius and intriguing and captivating as per crow’s usual
There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.
And Embers at Your Lips by @nametheshadows (T, 15k) - sequel to one of my all-time favorite 8th year fics with insomniac roommates just as soft and healing as LLAYF. Gorgeous prose and all the kissing. Highly rec this series for A+ comfort food!
The sequel to Like Lightning at Your Fingertips: the kissing montage. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.
Rich Friend, Anon (E, 18k) - one of my faves from Wireless, pop star!Draco never gets old and both the pacing and the romance are perfectly developed! I live for Harry’s horny yearning and for their road trip together, kudos to casual Harry/Neville as a side ship!
As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.
Waking Up Slow, Anon (E, 22k) - this ode to advent Drarry fics took my breath away with a charming Draco, fun dynamics, an enchanting Christmas shop and one of the sexiest smut scenes I’ve read this year, 10/10 recommend for hot & sweet magical vibes and lots of references as an homage to the classics!
'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?
We Are Legend by Vaysh (E, 38k) - happy to report to @romaine2424 that I have finally read this epic apocalypse AU and am shooketh with its originality and serious tone. One of the most creative takes I’ve seen on animagus Draco, a poignant and devastating war story.
Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Cw: MCD
LA, Who Am I To Love You?, Anon (E, 42k) - I cannot believe this beauty was written for my lil Wireless prompt ♥️ perfect LA vibes, gorgeous aesthetics, horny ust and a fascinating take on both down and out bi Harry and out and proud bi Draco, we love to see it! Couldn’t have asked for a better story to fill my prompt, ty anon!
Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.
Rare Pairs
A Different Tune by November Snowflake (M, 8k) - very nice Dron get together, short & sweet with an undercurrent melancholy that I love, just what I needed before bed
Working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has led Ron to many strange encounters--but none more unexpected than this one. Cw: Harry’s dead
The Years Between by brummell (M, 14k) - another rare pair fave, this Rarry fic told from Ron’s smitten and jealous pov as he helps Harry recover from a coma is so deliciously raw and angsty. Gorgeous slow burn, the feels!
For both Harry and Ron, a wake-up call is just the beginning.
Things Remembered by avioleta (E, 17k) - best Snarry fic I’ve read this year, I’m low key obsessed with this hitmen + amnesia concept and how the romance develops so organically while they’re on the run. Intriguing plot, sexy ust and super scorching smut that made me salivate jfc 🔥
Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar hotel room, and with absolutely no idea who he is. The man he’s in bed with has no memories either. But they think, maybe, they’re assassins, because they seem to be very good at killing people.
A Dress with Pockets by PacificRimbaud (E, 25k) - a Panville classic recced by anon (ty!!), what a sexy and vibrant read! I LOVED Neville and their dynamics are brilliant and so funny, I just couldn’t get enough of these characters. 100% sold on this ship pls and thank
Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.
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