aether-forged

[aether-forged]

All damn day all I can think of is Vergil seeing trans!reader dress up in formal attire for the first time and is terrified of describing them with a term they don’t like.

So instead he says “You look devastating.”

Does that sound like it has gendered inflections or is that pretty neutral? What do y’all think??

[aether-forged]

Reader Fic Masterlist

Eddie Munson

Sunshine on a Rainy Day - Trans Reader | Today at school, the seniors were required to take the ACT and the test makes Eddie's mental state plummet. He's never known how to ask for emotional support, but with you by his side, he's brave enough to voice it. And cuddling you is the best medicine Eddie can think of.

Robin Buckley

Midnight Melodies - Fem!Reader | In an attempt to steal your heart, your childhood friend stands outside your window and plays your favorite romance song on the trumpet. Not only have you fallen harder for her, but you've both earned cute nicknames!

Vergil

Under a Demon's Wing - Trans Reader | During a dysphoric episode, you decide to visit your friends to lighten your spirits. Your friends weren’t there, so Vergil invited you to his library to provide company. He may not be the best at comforting people, he makes an attempt to reach out.

[aether-forged]

Sunshine on a Rainy Day

Eddie Munson x Trans!Reader

Summary: Today at school, the seniors were required to take the ACT and the test makes Eddie's mental state plummet. He's never known how to ask for emotional support, but with you by his side, he's brave enough to voice it. And cuddling you is the best medicine Eddie can think of.

AO3

The rainy morning of the ACT always weighed Eddie down like a chained cement block, making him pick at his food and tiredly bury his face inside his hand in dread. You hated to see him so defeated before the test had even started, but you knew it ran deeper than that. Being held back for two years bothered him more than he admitted, but this year would be his year. When he was in the mindset to study, you two would sit down for a good hour or however long to help him. 

And his grades have improved so much since!

Eddie promises that he will shower you with gratitude after graduation, and you insist he didn't need to pay you back, but he was dead set on following through. You still had another semester to left before freedom and you were certain you'd walk the stage with Eddie come May. 

But until then, you had to keep your boyfriend motivated.

During lunch, Eddie had quietly asked you if you wouldn't mind staying with him after school. He was always nervous about asking for emotional support, afraid of being too clingy or overly emotional. It was never a problem and you made sure he knew he wasn't being "too much." You met his needs the best you could by squeezing him tighter than he was you, whispering assurances when he was too drained to speak, and everything under the moon for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him and you knew without a doubt Eddie would do the same. 

Because he’s told you countless times before, all said with a sincere smile or a giddy grin. 

Once the bells rang and relieved you of educational obligations for the day, Eddie practically dragged you to his van. Not aggressively or obviously, but with silent urgency. His fingers laced tightly with yours, feeling the familiar indent of his rings press into your skin. You offered squeezes and rubbed his hand with your thumb in response, knowing that it would help ground him. Sometimes that’s all he needed, a simple reminder that he could take a moment to breathe. Other times it wouldn’t solve his distress, but at least alleviate the weight on his chest. 

When you arrived at his trailer, it was like you blinked and he had already fallen into your arms in the safety of his bedroom. You studied the plethora of objects lining his walls to occupy your eyes as Eddie practically buried his head in your shoulder, quietly performing the breathing exercises you taught him. You matched your breathing to a calming pattern, smiling when the uneven hitches to his back dissipated into relaxed rises and falls. Once you sensed the tension leave his aura, you rubbed his back while Eddie absently played with the hems of your shirt. 

"Half of that shit I'll never use. Like, Science is Greek to me and Math is just mental abuse to humans." Eddie groaned, sharing his thought process. "But the English and Reading portions? They're easier, but the questions read like riddles. I overthink it, panic, and bubble it in so I don't run out of time. I was lucky enough to get an eighteen last time, I thought I'd do worse."

"The ACT is literally the shittiest test known to mankind; it doesn't even test intelligence." You reply, frustrated with the education system. "It tests your test taking skills. Even the smarter kids 'score poorly' because of the anxiety that comes with it."

You bite back the urge to go on a rant about how broken the education system truly is, but you remember your original point–and more important one. 

"Don't sell yourself so short, babe. You're a god working with your hands." You praised as he meekly peered up at you. "I've seen you fix lights and pipes like it was a five piece puzzle. Remember when your fridge went out? You made a cooler out of a tote, bubble wrap, and tin foil. And nothing spoiled either!"

You smile and rub his back, watching him blush and avert his gaze. Eddie had a difficult time accepting praise, but with you saying it, it seemed like he processed it better. 

"You don't need booksmarts to be considered smart. And you're in no way ignorant." You insist. "You're so much more brilliant than you think. You have creative solutions to your problems, plus they work much better than a typical answer. You look at things from unconventional angles and see the tiny details. You can fix anything with your hands! You're awesome, babe."

"You always know what to say, Sunshine." Eddie thanked, feeling him smile wide against you. 

He fell silent afterwards to process your words, maybe even attempt to rewire his negative thoughts towards himself. Eddie never expected you to play therapist, but you know he deeply appreciated the attention when needed. When you had rambled off ways to help him rewire his negative thoughts, Eddie listened. His self-esteem still needed work, but he believed in himself more than he had before your relationship began.  

After a long period of silence, you sensed that Eddie was carefully crafting his next words. It was strange how the two of you knew when the other was silent out of comfort and silent out of composition, but you loved it. You loved how synchronized the two of you are.

"I don't mean to bring it up, but you know when you're down about your dysphoria? Saying that your clothes don't fit right or your voice doesn't match?" Eddie quietly spoke, cautious not to spark your discomfort. You nod with a hum, encouraging him. "It's easy for me to say this, but I think you're perfect already. And I'm honored to be a part of your journey."

He always, always, had to return your generous words with heartfelt ones of his own. It was out of fear of seeming selfish, that he was taking more than he should, so he made sure you knew how much he appreciated you. You did the same, but it always made your heart flutter as if it was the first time he gushed over you.

"Eddieee," You shyly groan, prompting him to sit up and hover over you. Your eyes meet loving brown ones, enjoying the quiet moment between you before he continued.

"You are the most [beautiful/handsome] human I have ever met." Eddie warmly smiled, lifting his hand as if being sworn in at court. "Hand to Dio."

You giggle and affectionately swat him, grinning as he seized the opportunity to kiss you. 

"You're getting better at accepting compliments." You praise.

"Am I?" Eddie cocked his head in confusion. 

"Mhm. I think, from the outside looking in, you're doing a lot better mentally." You answer, tipping his nose with your finger. "And I'm glad you trust me enough to let me inside that twisted brain of yours."

"Thank you for letting me into your twisted Wonderland, my dear Cheshire." Eddie smiled, kissing you again. He pressed your foreheads together, briefly losing himself in your eyes. His expression was soft, but firm with sincerity. "I love you."

"I love you too, my maddest Hatter." You return with a grin, catching his lips again before he laid his head back over your chest. 

He loved curling up to you, laying his head your shoulder, and holding you close. It was a nice reversal from the times Eddie held you, losing your fingers inside curled locks as your other arm laid over him. Silence seeped its way back into the room, but you didn't need to speak. As lovely as your conversations can be, you two could exist in comfortable silence. No pressure to break the ice or awkwardly fill the space–just reflecting off each other's energies. 

The light shower of rain had begun to pour harder, striking the roof with a fiercer melody. Hearing the rain bounce off the roof was more intimate than the sound it makes back home, but it was soothing. The only time it caught you off guard was during severe storms, where the water droplets sounded like bullets sprinting out of a gun, as if it could pierce the ceiling. Thunder rumbled overhead, a passive greeting instead of loud explosions in the clouds. It was a soothing ambiance that made it easy to drift off into a peaceful mindset, basking in the serene atmosphere. 

It didn't take long for quiet snores to accompany the rainfall, finding comfort that Eddie could rest after a mentally demanding day. That you could provide a safe space for him to confide in, to hold him in your arms until he felt content leaving the affection. 

You smile and carefully shift your position, leaning your head into the pillow as you followed your beloved in a peaceful sleep.

[aether-forged]

Midnight Melodies

Robin Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: In an attempt to steal your heart, your childhood friend stands outside your window and plays your favorite romance song on the trumpet. Not only have you fallen harder for her, but you've both earned cute nicknames!

AO3

It was nearing midnight when you heard a soft hum of a trumpet outside your window, briefly catching you off guard. The melody was quiet, cautious, careful not to disrupt the neighborhood any more than they were. You left the safety of your bed to the window, peering out between the curtains to see a glimpse of a familiar blonde below. In a moment of excitement, you shove the curtains apart and lift the window to lean out of. Without a doubt, there Robin Buckley was,  gazing up at you while playing the sweetest rendition of (fav. love song) that you’ve heard. Beside her feet was a trumpet case and piece of board, the writing obscured by the angle.

Is she asking me out? You wonder with a hitched breath.

You didn’t call out to her in fear of breaking her concentration, but you didn’t need to. From the distance from the ground to your window, you could sense her nervousness and sincerity alike. Her eyes glinted with excitement, swaying her body to ease her tension. In a trance, you flush and prop your arms on the windowpane to listen to its entirety. Your lips melted into a warm smile, lovingly gazing at the blonde bravely stepping closer to the window. When the song was over, Robin quickly cased her trumpet before grabbing the sign beside it. She raised it high above her head, lips light with anticipation. 

Will you be my duck in a sunflower field?

You giggle and cover your face, shyly ducking your head. After gathering the bravery to look at her, your grin became a beacon of hope for her to continue.

“I know it’s a weird question,” Robin admitted, hearing her quietly clear her throat. “But would you like to..to go on a date?”

“Hell yes!” You squeal, slapping your hands over your mouth. 

You fear your reaction was too strong, only for your giggles to fall in line with Robin's. Her grin reflected your excitement, lips pursing to find the words she couldn’t form. Robin awkwardly lowered the sign and fidgeted her stance, shoulders lifting in glee. 

“I-I mean, yeah.” You chuckle, rubbing your neck. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Thank you, my fair maiden.” She beamed while hugging the sign. “Soo, milkshakes after school Friday?” 

“Absolutely.” You excitedly nod, watching her collect her trumpet. “Not that I’m judging, but why ask if I’d be your duck in a sunflower field?”

You could almost feel the heat burning off Robin’s cheeks as she laughed off her nerves, looking back to you with a shrug. 

“I didn’t want to just ask it because it’s overdone, but not ask it in too weird of a way, ya’know?” She admitted. “I was gonna like, write a cheesy rhyme or recite a poem to you, but that’s too easy. And embarrassingly cringey.”

After a breathless laugh, Robin continued. 

“And straight.” Robin concluded, grinning from the laugh that she elicited. “Straight’s the last thing I wanted this to be.”

“Don’t worry, it’s hella gay.” You assure through your chuckling, immediately looking at the headlights that illuminated the backyard. 

For a moment, you’re afraid that one of the neighbors or entitled jerks that run the roads at night had spotlighted her. Your concern was lost in an exhale when the blonde smiled at the driver, who you knew had to be Steve “Wingman” Harrington. 

“And the duck? It’s my codename for you because I love ducks.” Robin called out, wetting her lips. She waited until you turned your attention to her, courageously lifting her chin. “I’ve loved them since I was a kid and…and I’ve known you since we were kids so..I thought it was fitting.”

In that moment, it felt like every conspiracy theorist had cried out in rejoice to the mystery that had been solved. All the times that Robin talked about how cute a duck was at random places was you, and you felt silly for not realizing it sooner. In hindsight, it was obvious she was gushing about you, but you miraculously didn’t catch it. 

Warmth painted your face as you giddily covered your mouth, Robin ducking her head and darting for the passenger seat. 

“Good night, my sunflower!” You shamelessly called out, watching her toss her items in the backseat. 

She opened the passenger side and paused to gaze up at you, as if the universe had turned the moment into a movie scene. 

“Quack quack!” Robin responded, matching your laughter. 

Once the door was shut and they had left your driveway, you giggled as you recalled the moment over and over in your head. After you closed the window and shut the curtains, you rushed to your closet to pick out your outfit. Friday was going to be a dream come true and it wouldn't be complete without the sunflower bracelet you wear.

What made your heart flutter most was that Robin would be wearing a matching one, deepening the bond you've shared since kindergarten. Of all Christmas presents in the past, none could surpass the joy Robin bought you in middle school.

And you definitely intend on "casually" showing off the bracelet to her, just to remind her of how close you will always be.

[aether-forged]

Under a Demon's Wing

Vergil x trans!reader

After a year of this sitting in my docs, I've nervously decided to post this purely self-indulgent of a reader fic since it's hard to find trans!reader fics at times. I've never written one of these before, or for Vergil's character and I'm sorry if he's too OOC. I wrote this during a gender dysphoria episode, so prepare for distressing thoughts. Hope it's enjoyable!

AO3

It was difficult to ignore the demons in your head, let alone go a few minutes without experiencing discomfort about your appearance. Your body betrayed the person trapped inside, a constant battle between mentally breaking down or numbly existing in bed. No one could take the pain away, no matter how much they cared for you, but having their support was enough. You remembered the red demon hunter that told you to come to him when distressed, Lady and Trish too, and you begrudgingly made your way over to their residence to ask to silently reside in their presence like you’ve done many times before.

Upon entering, all was quiet, leading you to believe that everyone was either gone or upstairs. You quietly sniffled and swallowed back your nerves, making your way upstairs when you faintly heard a door open. After reaching the top and turning a corner, you found yourself ramming face first into someone. You immediately stumble backward apologizing, looking to find the other azure hunter already gazing down at you. He’s silent, studying you as you try to cover up your distress with a nervous smile. Not that you didn't trust Vergil, he was characteristically intimidating. The night to Dante’s day in personality, whose sunny demeanor always managed to summon laughter from you in your dire times of distress. 

“Sorry, I um, I thought they were here.” You admitted, clearing your throat. “I-I can come back, sorry to bother you-“

“Don’t apologize for something that you haven't done.” Vergil sternly interjected, his face visibly softening when realizing how curt his voice resounded. Reattempting to reply, Vergil pursed his lips for a moment. “Is there something I can assist with?”

The question took you by surprise, but you nervously fidgeted with yourself regardless.

“Well, um..usually they’ll let me exist in the same room as them or lean against them while they do their thing for comfort. Or talk, I like listening to them bicker.” You admitted softly, perking up as Vergil made a considerate expression and turned around. Afraid you had offended him, you began to quickly justify your answer. “But I know you’re reserved about personal space, so I can keep my distance–”

“Come with me.” Vergil beckoned, not glancing behind him as he stepped into the hallway. 

You fidget with yourself again before following him, watching him gesture to a room. You step inside and pretend your heart isn’t in your throat, immediately noticing the large bookshelves lining the walls with complementary modest furniture. He left the door open and stepped over to the tea set on the table in front of the sofa, his hand presenting the teapot. 

“It’s chamomile.” Vergil informed without meeting your eyes. “Would you like some?” 

“Um, sure. Thank you.” You reply, accepting the freshly poured cup with quiet gratitude. 

The room was one you hadn’t seen before, but you already started to feel at ease despite not knowing the man on a personal level. You watch as he lowered himself to the sofa, retrieving his book from the table. 

“You may read anything you like.” Vergil invited, making himself comfortable against the cushion. “I ask you don’t dog-ear the pages.” 

“Of course not.” You assure, restraining the shiver of anxiety jolting your being. 

“Don’t feel pressured, you can just sit with me.” Vergil returned, glancing up to you as he opened his bookmarked page. “I’m not as comforting as the others, and I may not understand your struggles, but you’re not judged.”

The words alone prick tears to your eyes, abashedly turning and blinking them away. 

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, shyly going to sit beside him. 

Your heart begins to flutter at the small distance between your bodies, your eyes flicking around to study something, anything to prevent emotional whiplash. You take a sip of tea, relieved that it wasn’t boiling, but warm. Vergil was right, the tea was soothing and you found yourself relaxing your tensed muscles. 

On the coffee table beside you, you spy a well used book atop some others. When squinting at the title, you discover it’s a book about Icarus. The story was always a favorite of yours. Icarus risked his life to escape, only for the sun to melt his wings and send him plummeting into the ocean. Suddenly, you realize that you weren’t so different. You braved the flight into the world as your own person, to present how you felt on the inside, only for others to cut you down. 

Fresh tears dripped into your tea cup, wiping them away as you carefully sat your cup on the table. It’s miraculous you don’t accidentally spill it as your hands tremble, trying to play it off as a shiver. Vergil knew better and saw through your façade, closing his book and kindly gazing at you. 

“If you need to talk about it, you may.” Vergil encouraged, keeping his hand on his book. 

“I-I don’t..” You try to explain, cut off by your throat constricting. Tears began to flow faster than you could restrain them, bowing your head in shame as you covered your face. “It’s so stupid.”

“It’s not if it’s causing you distress.” Vergil assured to his best ability. After a moment to gauge your comfort, Vergil spoke again, this time softer. “I won’t make you talk if you don’t want to. How can I help?”

“This is fine.” You sniffle, mentally calling yourself a crybaby. Almost as if he could sense it, Vergil sternly–but gently–knocked his knee against yours. 

“If you think you’re being overly sensitive, don’t. It's understandable.” He prompted, falling silent to let you continue speaking. 

“Thanks.” You manage with a smile. “It’s just…it feels like no matter what I do no one acknowledges who I am. That being trans is a phase and I’ll grow out of it. No matter how many times I say I’m a [man/woman], they insist the opposite. I think I’m passing until they hear my voice and they misgender me. No one listens to me when I explain and I just want to disappear–“

You’re cut off by your own tears, beginning to completely break down. 

“I can’t get out of this body I don’t want, don’t like, and can’t change because no one will at least acknowledge my effort. I know their opinions don't matter, but it still hurts.” You sob, your face buried in your hands. “This dysphoria is eating me alive and no one cares because it’s not ‘real.’ It’s ‘all in my head.’ ‘It’s not tangible’. I feel like a fraud.”

Vergil allowed you to cry, knowing you would feel better after releasing everything you bottled up. He carefully placed his hand on your back, uncertain to rub or pat you until he settled with keeping a comforting pressure. 

“You are who you say you are, even if the outside doesn’t show yet.” Vergil soothed, gently leading you to come closer. 

After a moment, you submit defeat and shamefully wrap your arms around his waist, your head pressed against his chest. Initially, Vergil was silent until he made a soft hum in an attempt to soothe you, allowing himself another moment of silence to let you express your feelings if needed. 

“I think I can understand to some degree.” Vergil considered after a long pause, his tone solemn. “After Mallet Island, any time I see knights I get tense. Intrusive flashbacks that make me think I'm someone else. Being trapped in a body that I couldn’t control or recognize was agony. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

It takes a moment to process Vergil’s words and implications, feeling your chest swell again and tears flood from your eyes. The pain was bittersweet mixed with relief that someone could empathize with your experience, even if it varied. He would never know the true limits of turmoil you endure daily, but he chose to listen. That struck you odd as empathy is something Vergil was known to lack, everyone had already said their two cents on Vergil’s lack of humanity. Was it possible that he felt like someone understood his past torment? How much did he truly think of you to share that glimpse of pain? 

“Not to take away from your experience.” Vergil apologized when he noticed your tears, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing or was insensitive.“

All at once, you found yourself squeezing Vergil’s side harder in hopes of hugging both of your pain away. You wanted to smile, but emotions had too powerful of a hold. He softly exhaled after a moment, tentatively laying his arm over your side and molding his hand over your head. By now it was no mistake, Vergil had chosen to show equal vulnerability to you. Wanting to assure him, you composed your breathing before speaking. 

“You didn’t.” You assured, smiling at the decision to make an ill timed joke. “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.” 

An amused snort sounded from above, finding yourself chuckling as Vergil shook his head in amusement. 

“Fair enough.” Vergil admitted under his breath. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but being trans is like jumping without a parachute, only to discover you have wings. Is that true, based on my understanding?”

You can’t help the prideful smile that cracks your lips. He was hesitant in fear of using the wrong term, or shorthand of it, but he actively wanted to understand. That was enough for you to know he genuinely cared, whether he admitted it aloud or not. 

“Yeah.” You affirmed, thinking for a moment. “It’s weird how true that statement is.”

Content with your approval, his muscles seemed to melt under your body weight. Silence bloomed between the two of you, but your initial intimidation had waned into content. You could hear his heartbeat beneath the thrum of his breathing, offering a soothing ambience to your internal vortex of distress. You awkwardly thank him and loosen your hold on him, removing yourself from the embrace as he retracted his arm. The demon allowed a moment for you to adjust yourself and personal space before placing his book in his lap. At first you wondered why he didn’t resume reading, but when steel eyes studied you, you realized he was waiting in case you needed to vent further. 

You felt yourself blush and quickly averted your eyes, opting to explore the Icarus book you previously eyed. After the two of you had begun reading, you dared to peek at Vergil. His knee affectionately knocked against yours again, remaining pressed against you for silent comfort when you looked away. There was a curve to his lips that made your chest swell with warmth, feeling yourself smile as you leaned against his shoulder and continued reading. 

“You’re welcome here anytime.” Vergil invited once the silence felt appropriate to break. “Distressed or not.”

“I’ll definitely visit you more often then.” You accept with a smile, hearing him hum in response. 

Knowing that your presence was welcomed soothed your anxiety about returning, whether it was for a friendly visit to the demon hunters or seeking comfort. When Dante learned that Vergil took you into his “inner sanctum”, he was beyond amazed. He insisted that Vegil had grown feathers on his “scaly demon wings” and tucked you under them, only for the elder twin to digress and insist it was merely out of kindness. 

But the glimmer in Vergil’s eyes that sparked between you promised it ran much deeper than that.

[aether-forged]

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Characters I'm most familiar with:

Devil May Cry: Vergil

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Stranger Things: Billy, Eddie, Robin, Steve