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piastrinorris · 2 years ago

Text

I Want Your Video

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (minors DNI), modern!au, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, pulling out, overstimulation, mentions of anal, filming a sex tape, mentions of reader being cheated on

Summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Good news, gang! Turns out, I actually do remember how to write anything other than Busy Streets and Busy Lives!

Waving at Wayne as his car passes yours on his way out of the trailer park puts your mind at ease. That's one potential barrier out of the way. The other is whether or not your potential other party agrees to your little plan.

You didn't participate too much in your ex's Hellfire Club stuff because campaign time was campaign time only, and unless you were summoned to stand in for someone, you weren't a part of this story's main adventuring party. Nonetheless, you'd developed your own camaraderie with the group - especially the only regular female player.

Which is why it was all the more heartbreaking to see the screenshots of your then-boyfriend's attempts to slide into her DMs. Watching him gaslight her into believing that she was misreading his messages as being flirtatious, despite them definitely being so, hurts enough. Your heart sinks to the floor when you see the photos he'd sent. You know pretty well what his own dick looks like and that's definitely what he sent her. Completely unsolicited. Judging by the timestamp and the sheets beneath him, he even took those while you were asleep next to him.

You needed to make him regret doing that for the rest of his pathetic little life. You needed to hit him where it would hurt most.

And so, you knock three times on Eddie Munson's door. He greets you warmly, but there's an air of sympathy to him. "Hey. Um, I just want you to know, right off the bat, that shitbag's never, ever setting foot near the table again. Next session, his character's getting killed off in the most humiliating way I can come up with, and I totally get if you don't want to, but we'd need a full-time stand-in -"

"I didn't come here to talk D&D, Eddie," you cut him off, and his brow furrows.

"Well, if it's emotional support you're after, then I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm not of any use there."

"Not that, either," you shake your head. "I - I don't want anything to do with that asswipe ever again, but I still wanna make him pay." You start pacing the expanse across Eddie's living space. "I mean, sure, I dumped his ass, but he'll feel no remorse from that, he didn't care enough about me to stay loyal. I need to really stick a dent in his pride. I need it to come from someone he really admires." You look at Eddie hopefully.

He shrugs, "Sure, I'll teach that bastard a lesson. What do you have in mind?"

You take a deep breath in. "Well, if he's going to send dick pics without remorse… I was thinking… You and I go one better and send him a - a video. If that's okay with you."

Eddie feels as though all his Christmases have come at once. He'd always found it tough tearing his eyes away from you with your boyfriend mere feet away. He wanted to sucker-punch the sense back into him when he'd learned what your ex had done. But this? So much better.

Rubbing his jaw, Eddie nods. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He gestures for you to follow him to his room, which you do. "My phone, or yours?"

You contemplate, "Yours. It'll sting more coming from you."

Eddie nods, setting his phone on a surface close to the bed and setting up the right angle. "So, clothes already off, clothes on? Anything definitely off the table, or on it?"

"Clothes off, I want it to pack a punch the moment he hits play," you direct, and Eddie nods, throwing his shirt off. You knew there was more ink beyond his forearms, you'd seen little peekaboo moments of the artwork adorning his body, but seeing them all out in the open, as though he's an open sketchbook, captivates you. He's obviously watching you stare at each one as he smugly swivels himself around to show you all of them at all angles. You continue, "Um, how do you feel about… Not wearing - I promise, the video will stop before any completion happens, I'm not here to get knocked up or anything," you quickly explain, to Eddie's amusement.

"Yeah, I'll fuck you raw." Something about the way he casually purrs that as a smirk tugs at the left corner of his lips sends a buzz through your nervous system that settles at your core. "Anything else?"

"Um… He never really liked… Going dow-"

"Oh my god, of course he didn't," Eddie interrupts. "But he'd have you -?" You nod. "Disgraceful."

"And even though I would always ask him to, he wouldn’t talk dirty to me. So maybe if he saw that in action?"

"Oh, fuck yes, doll, you are speaking my language," Eddie grins. "We talking praise, degrading, narration? How rough do you want me?"

"Honestly, go nuts. I'm all good for all of it. In terms of the talk… I'm good with any as long as it's not humiliating me, but the more possessive, the better."

"Hmmm, you better get those clothes off and that camera started, baby, or else I might get ahead of myself." Eddie shuffles out of his jeans and palms himself over his boxers as he watches you strip to your underwear with great intent.

You both silently agree to strip down your last layer at the same time, getting all of the awkwardness out of the way. You're in awe of his cock, stood of its own accord even before he starts stroking himself at the sight of you. You chew your lower lip as you watch in fascination and he grins, "You gonna at least hit record before I end up coming all over my hand?"

You hop onto Eddie's bed, feet swinging above the floor as you ask, "Where do you want me, Mr Director?"

Eddie glances over at his phone screen, smirks, and taps it before striding over to you, pulling you into position by your legs, and throwing one over his shoulder. Pushing the other one out, you realise to get a good angle of it for the camera, he sweeps his hair to one side and makes quick work of snaking his tongue inside of you.

Your fingers card through his hair and grip tightly, and he hums with approval against your core as his nose nuzzles at your clit. "Is that good, baby?" he purrs between licks, and you nod. He surfaces, shaking his head. "Use your words, sweet thing."

You swallow hard. "Y-yeah, so good."

"Mmm, that's my good girl, doing as she's told, c'mere," he grips your thighs tightly as he laps back and forth at your clit. You sit yourself up at an angle to watch him yourself, the way he looks so lustfully as he goes to town on you. He blindly holds his hand up to you, wiggling two fingers specifically, and you take his wrist to aim them into your mouth. He moans as you suckle and lick his fingers, "Oh, fuck yeah, such an obedient little slut. Taste so good, and so good with your mouth, fuck, I can't wait to wear you around my fucking cock."

You whine, "Please?"

He chuckles, "Patience, sweetheart. I've a feeling you need to get stretched out before you can take me."

"You're so big," you moan wistfully as you fall back onto your elbows, and you feel Eddie's toothy grin press against you as he angles himself enough to slide two long fingers inside of you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his hair tighter and he moans delightfully around you. "Fuck, Eddie, feel so good, I can't - I need to -"

Eddie resurfaces to rest his head against your thigh, gently sinking his fingers into you and stretching them apart before pulling them out to do the same thing over and over again. "So soon, baby?" he croons. "Getting your sweet little cunt eaten gets you this fired up?" You nod, and while Eddie wants to scold you again for not speaking, he's enamoured by the face you make when you're turned on. Eyes half-lidded, lips shiny and just-parted, chest heaving. He hasn't even played with your tits, yet. Fuck, he's barely gotten started with you and you're already a mess under his hand.

"Please?" is all you can think to say as his fingers curl inside you, making you mewl out loudly.

"Fussy girl wants to come already?" he asks in that crooning voice again, and you nod. Eddie pulls away from you entirely, grinning at your despair, and gets up to straddle you from behind, pressing an oddly gentle kiss to your forehead as he does so. Once he's sat with his legs draped either side of you and his chest flush against your back, he takes one of your breasts into his hand to massage it as the other hand reaches down to rub fast, deliberate circles against your clit. His lips press kisses all along your throat as you cry out for him. His voice is low, breathy, but still loud enough to be recorded as he asks, "Fuck, yes, who do you belong to, huh?"

"You, Eddie," you moan, turning your head to try and face him as you say it, feeling your orgasm start to build faster than you've ever been able to muster yourself.

"Mmm, and who does this pussy belong to?" he asks before sucking a big, dark bruise onto the base of your neck. He feels your neck start to crane again and hums an uh-uh against your skin, pulling his head up to purr into your ear, "Don't tell me, baby." He pulls his hand away from teasing at your nipples to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pushing your face around until you're facing his phone. "Tell him."

You look down the camera lens, moaning as Eddie sucks on your earlobe, the hand on your face now sliding down to wrap around your throat as the fingers on your clit work it faster. "It's all - shit, my pussy's all yours, Eddie. No- Nobody else makes it feel - this good, not even me, please," you falter into a plea at the end as you feel the crescendo looming.

"Damn right she belongs to me, and she wants me so bad, doesn't she?" His hand leaves your clit momentarily to dip down and coat his fingers in your thick juices. When he brings them up to your lips, the hand that had been so gently pushing against the pressure points in your throat falls to resume working your clit as you once again suck on his fingers. "Look at her, she's crying out for me, so desperate for it, can't wait to - to squeeze herself all over my thick cock as I fuck you the way you deserve, right? The way I've wanted to since I first saw you?" You make a small noise of intrigue around his fingers and Eddie chuckles, "That's right, sweetheart, but that's not why we're here, is it? We're here so you can come for me without me even needing to be inside you, aren't we? You're gonna show him what you really look like when you're satisfied, aren’t you?"

Still looking at Eddie's phone, your walls clench over absolutely nothing as your climax finally washes over you. Eddie continues to kiss and suck across your neck as he slows his attack on your clit and pushes the fingers in your mouth gently in and out as they muffle your moans.

"Fuck, yes, baby," he groans into your ear, "that was incredible."

Pulling down on his wrists until his fingers leave your mouth with a satisfying pop that you really hope the mic picked up, you lean back against Eddie and reach up to play with his hair. "Wanna watch me suck you off, now?" You ask with a coy grin.

Eddie bites his lip, "Any other time, absolutely. But right now, I need you sat on my dick and facing me so I can watch that pretty little face of yours as I make you cum over and over again. Why should he get all the fun of seeing that, huh?"

You squirm as you move yourself around to straddle him, pressing your forehead to his and mumbling, "You really ought to keep the dirty talk more believable, you know."

He frowns as his arms slide up and down your sides, cradling you, "You doubt my talents, sweetheart? You wound me."

"It takes an awful lot for me to get there, usually," you admit quietly, "even once."

"And look at you now," he smirks at the same volume. "Ready for me?" he asks as he reaches between you both to angle his cock away from where it rests against his torso. You nod eagerly, hovering up onto your knees and moving with him. Slightly louder, he grins, "I didn't hear you, ba- oh my fuck," he groans out as you sink down onto him without warning. "Oh, fussy girl can't wait, huh? God, you're fucking loving this dick, arent you, baby, huh?" he croons as he watches your face contort with pleasure as you lower yourself further and further until you're sat with him fully inside you.

With his arms wrapped tightly around you, and your hands on his shoulders to keep you in place, he leans in to kiss you openly, his tongue instantly seeking yours. You grind yourself against him while he's buried in you, moaning into the kiss at the feeling. "Fu-uuuck, Eddie," you moan. "Tell - tell me more - first time you saw -"

"Mmm, the first time I saw you?" he asks, reaching down between you again to rub your clit in gentle circles. "You walked in with him. Wearing a cute little dress, but you had a shirt on under it so I missed out on these," he gropes at your breasts. "Hmm, but fuck, I wanted you to stay. Wanted that cute little mouth sucking me off while he played just across the table. Wanted to feel that cute little ass of yours as I bent you over the table and fucking railed you."

You whine, "You wou- you'd fuck my ass?"

Eddie lets out his loudest moan yet, bucking up further into you. "Fuck, I didn't mean that, but if you'd let me, baby, any day of the fucking week. But I gotta take care of my pussy first, don't I? She's being so good to me," he purrs as he fucks you deeper. "I think - we've put on enough of a show, don't you?" he asks as he blindly reaches for his phone, angling it at both of your faces. "I don't think he deserves to watch you come over my dick. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

You look at the camera, smile coyly and turn to Eddie to lean in and bite his lower lip, both of you chorusing low chuckles to each other as he cranes his phone around to hit the stop button.

Reality crashes down on you as you realise it's all over now. That video was the reason you showed up. That was what he agreed to do. He notices your hesitation as he throws his phone aside and quickly swings you both around so that you now lay beneath him. You'd been so focused on making a good sex tape, you had barely paid attention to Eddie himself until now. Eyes blown black, his hair and his guitar pick chain dangling between the two of you, a light sheen of sweat showing against his dark ink. But by far the hottest thing of all about him was the sheer, primal hunger in his gaze.

"I hope you didn't think we were done yet, princess," he coos. "Now I get to really focus on you."

Not letting his gaze leave yours, he aims his cock inside of you once again, taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers before fucking into you deeply.

Your back arches as he fills you, and you moan his name, to his delight. Before long, you're begging and whining again, your fingers clenching tighter against his. "Gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, tell me again, who owns you?"

"You - you do, Eddie," you moan, your hips squirming beneath him.

"Damn right, I do. Just like I said, I'll make you come over and over again. Do it, baby, come for me."

That euphoric feeling returns, but tenfold as you feel yourself tighten around his member. He slides it in and out of you gently as you work through your climax, but it's short lived as he climbs further onto the bed to line himself up with your chest, wrapping a wide, rough hand around his cock as he pumps it, sending warm spurts of thick cum flying against your breasts as he throws his head back and moans gutturally.

Looking down at yourself, then back up at him, you ask, exhausted, "G'me y'r phone, please."

He slowly hands it to you, confused, and you get up to kneel on the bed right in front of him, taking one of his hands and holding it up to your throat until he gets the hint to hold onto it himself, and then doing the same for the other arm, guiding it between your legs.

You swipe onto his camera, flip it to the front one, and set the phone down so that it only starts showing from your nose downwards, making sure that the bruises on your neck, and the cum on your chest aren't obscured. Setting a timer, you smile slyly as one photo takes. You take another with you biting your lip, and Eddie gets in on making sure you take one where he's kissing your neck amongst the hickey.

But Eddie lets go of your throat for a moment to switch the camera back to video mode, mutter in your ear, "You keep this right here, 'kay, baby?" and hit record right as the hand between your legs once again starts rubbing your clit with a lot more fervor than before.

Just as the timer starts recording, Eddie's grip around your throat tightens and you cry out silently, just about managing to squeak out a, "S-so - sensi- so much."

"I know it's sensitive, baby, that just means it'll be quick," Eddie promises, keeping his lips close to your ear, still in shot of the camera. "But I promised you, didn't I?" He drags two fingers across your drenched thighs, "After you already came for me, I promised it would happen again," he wipes one finger against your lower lip, "and again," he adds as he wipes the other there, too.

You groan, "Fuck, don't know - 'f I c'n take-"

Eddie shushes you, "Of course you can, baby. Your pussy's mine now, remember? And I already know her so well. Fuck, I can't wait to give you so much more. Did you mean it, sweetheart, when you asked me to fuck you in the ass someday?" You nod desperately, whining and keening against his touches. "Good, because I most certainly plan on having a lot of fun with my new cocksleeve. Have you be my new favourite after-gig tradition, where I get to go offstage and fill all your holes." You squirm against him, grinding your bare ass against him. "Mmm, afraid I'm not quite the free-use fucktoy you are, doll, that's not gonna work on me just yet," he drawls.

"Ple-ease, need to need, fuck -"

"What's that, baby? You need to come again? Oh, but I thought it was so hard to get you there. Remember that when I send you this video and you watch it back, okay, sweetheart? Remember who makes you feel this good. Remember who fucking owns you."

"'s you, Eddie, fuck, I'm -" you scream out in ecstasy as a third orgasm travels entirely across your nervous system, filling your entire body with a high like you've never experienced before. With a grin, Eddie leans over to once again stop his recording and gently lay you down onto his bed.

"Stay right here, okay, doll? Gonna get you all cleaned up."

You nod, mumbling, "Don't think - I can go anywhere else anyway."

Eddie chuckles under his breath, moving to kiss your forehead and then your lips before making his way to the bathroom.

He returns moments later with several warm, damp washcloths and fresh towels, and takes great care in mopping up your thighs and your chest, in major contrast from the Eddie you'd just experienced.

Once you're clean, he lays himself to curl up next to you on the bed and pull you in to spoon him, pulling his pillows down to where the two of you lay in the centre of the bed so he could place one under your head. You hum in happiness as he presses kisses to your shoulder. "You were fucking amazing, back there, sweetheart. A goddamn natural."

"Having such a good co-star certainly helped," you smirk back.

"An', y'know. I don't want to put any pressure on you, 'cause what you're going through is a whole thing, but you know most of that was just talk for the camera, and that I see you as way more than a fucktoy, right?"

You pout, "So I'm not gonna be?"

He chuckles, kissing between your shoulder blades. "I didn't say that, did I? Just that… This is casual, and awesome, but I don't want you to think that I only did this to have sex. I did it to have it with you. And I'm down to be… Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, a rebound, whatever it is you need. 'Kay?"

You squeeze his arm around you a little tighter in thanks. You know you're certainly not ready for any kind of relationship again just yet. But who's to say that you can't have fun in the meantime? Maybe this goes further. Maybe it doesn't. All you know is, as you watch with glee as you watch Eddie send the first video to your ex, and then set his favourite of the photos you took as his home screen, you definitely made the right choice tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #fic: eddie m #*myfics

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hanafubukki · 6 months ago

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So I'm just looking at Lilia in his dorm uniform and imagining pulling his shirt open and creasing his chest, as one does, and then I'm thinking he needs to get plainer shorts so it's easier to slip a hand into them/slip them off, and then I went back to his shirt and his harnesses and they remind me of the things that hold guns and I was like---crime boss Lilia-!

He's an old man with old money but a Youthful face. Playful and technology literate, his age doesn't show when he makes an impromptu stop at a purikura machine. He's ready for retirement soon. He's been in the business too long, starting early and kept going while waiting for an heir. But Malleus is about ready to take over. Silver and Sebek are skilled enough to stay safe and assist their boss. He's so ready to be done. Should he get away from it all and move to a small cottage in the middle of nowhere? Get back to using the skills he had to make use of while growing up on the streets, before the previous boss picked him up? Enjoy the quietness and serenity away from the city he'd filled with bloodshed? Or should he just stay? Be close to his family, lend a helping hand if needed? To be spoiled by them? To still have access to his games and arcades and purikura machines? He finds that he can't make the by himself after he meets you.

Like most people, you don't know who he really is. (You don't know how old he actually is). You're sweet, maybe a little naive, but his heart beats for you. He wants to hold you and protect you and stay with you for the rest of his days. Is he too old for more children? For biological children? And should he tell you of who he is? Of what he used to do and what his sons, who have started to dote on you, now do? But he knows for sure, he will not hesitate if there ever is a time for him to hold your face to his chest, to shield your vision from the bodies falling to the ground after he's shot them down for trying to take you from him.

(And what if this is a mixed modern au? As in its still twisted wonderland with fae and beastmen, but putting all of that into a modern setting. Fae mafia <3)

- Fake Date Sebek anon

Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonie 🌺💚🌷

Not going to lie Anonie, but you had me for a second in the first part of this ask.🤣😆

I went from “Oh? Have I been blessed with smut?” to “Crime Boss Lilia?!?! HELL YEAH” 🤣💞

Ahhhh I’m squealing in bed. This is so??? Hot??? God the image?? Ahhhhh Lilia in a suit?? With those harnesses that hides hidden guns and knives. Pleasssee I’m ready to just combust. *shaking you Anonie*

Summary: Mafia x Flower Shop AU: In which, Lilia meets the local flower shop owner.

Lilia was an orphan, taken from the streets, raised to protect his Masters whom he lost because he was ordered to protect their child.

Lilia then takes over as the boss and raises Malleus as the heir. At one point, he picks up Silver because he was an orphan who lost his parents due to crossfire between rivals and Silver reminds him of himself and Malleus when he was young. Then Sebek joins, the grandson of an old comrade.

Time passes as it always does even amongst the fae, and soon, Malleus will be taking his spot. He, Silver, and Sebek have grown and can protect each other without Lilia having to worry.

He can retire, but what then? Where does he go? Does he want to stay? Or leave? He knows his boys would love for him to stay, so would he, he won’t deny that. Or should he go somewhere quiet and peaceful, a contradiction to how he has lived all these centuries.

He meets you by chance one day, and he doesn’t know what to do anymore. It was by a stroke of luck when he ducked into the flower shop to get some for the office. To cover up the stench of iron and give some color to the place.

You had recommended him some lavender with a bundle of lily of the valley. He tried not to smile at your not so hidden way of saying he needed sleep nor the irony of flowers close to his name.

But something always drew him back to you and this shop close by the arcade he frequents.

It comes to the point that he has more flowers at home than is needed and Malleus’ smirk is getting to him.

So he asks you out on a date, it goes from one date to two to many more.

When he realizes he has feelings for you, he was surprised.

Well fuck, an old bat can still learn new tricks huh?

What makes it all so seamless is the way you incorporate so easily into their lives.

You meet Malleus one day when curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to see who had Lilia giddily walking around with a light in his eyes only a select few see. Malleus conveniently meets you at a cafe. While you two talk about Lilia, Malleus can’t help the smile that graces his lips. Clearly, you are as taken with him as he with you.

Eventually you meet Silver and Sebek, who was sent to you by Malleus but you didn’t know that, they were a rather interesting pair.

Silver asking for more lavender and lilly of the valley flowers. His smile and quiet nature reminds you of Lilia. His graceful movements that of Malleus. His kind nature belies his strength as he easily and efficiently helps you gather materials and organize them.

Sebek is the opposite of Silver in many ways but yet the same. He’s loud and proud. Something you never criticize him for. Behind this demeanor, he’s soft and kind in his own way. Always helping you around the shop with bags of soil and pots that needed moving while Silver manned the cash register.

You couldn’t help the fond giggle. They were Lilia’s boys alright.

You fit perfectly into their lives and Lilia wouldn’t have it any other way.

But Lilia has enemies, many of them in fact, so it was only time they would find you and try and take you away.

They didn’t notice him.

Foolishly thought you were alone.

Imbeciles.

Your eyes are covered by the time the first body falls on the floor.

Lilia tilts his head, kisses you on the forehead before whispering, “Shh, it’ll be alright beloved.”

Your trembling hands that had grasped his shirt relaxes slightly as you fully lean into him. This trust you give him so willingly and without doubt has him slightly nuzzling into you before eyes sharpen at the pawns before him.

Possessiveness.

Protection.

His.

Is all those before him register before crimson blood splatters the area, one by one.

Lilia will always be ready to take up his arms to protect his loved ones.

Let the blood stained floors be a message to those who seek his wrath and try to take what is his.

Yes, I made this into a flower shop x fae mafia au. I’m weak okay, I love the softness and the violence and the symbolisms 🥹💞

I don’t know why but ahhh this is hitting me in all the right spots. Just?? The fierceness, the blood, the gentle hand, and the comfort?? The potentialllll…someone hit me with a bat! Ahhhhh *rolls around in bed*

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 1 year ago

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you do historical au right? So how about a Villainess who actually is a regresser but she saw too much hardships in her previous life that this time she's all set on herself (you can add revenge or not if you don't want). A tyrant disguised saw her real self which is extremely kind to general public (she built orphanage, hospital and schools for her people) (she's the heir but got scammed in previous life, so she used all that knowledge to get even more riches with beneficial businesses so she's practically richest aristocrat). She's evil and rude on the looks (because she hates limelight and does all good will anonymously). So yeah. The tyrant is real deal evil and he's obsessed with our Villainess now. Oh dear. What a plight..

Sorry for the request being all over the place, i didn't know how to put it better :(

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader

Anon, you know how to capture my attention. And the request is comprehensive, don't worry!

Another historical AU for the roster. This time, rather than starting off with the villain, let's start of with the MC/you! (Because most of the time it doesn't really focus on the ML now, does it? Hope you don't mind.)

Yandere! Villain name: Eros

You don't remember how you got here, except for dying by a stupid woman who can't aim for jack shit.

You just got home from a grueling day's work. Always getting ahead of yourself and working yourself to the bone just to please your boss who's a major asshat, and loves when his employees curry favors with him.

It's a dog eats dog world, so you curried favors with him.

You're his favorite employee. Always giving you snacks and an extra day for your vacations. But that meant working harder than what's needed. Overtime, going home late, it drained you. But hey, it's worth it.

Yet, this wouldn't happen, and you would still be living like a young princess if it weren't for the damn mistress your fiance, the crown prince, has.

Elysia, a daughter of the baron, spent the night with the crown prince, Yuno. Earning the affection of the prince since...

Actually, you don't remember how Yuno became infatuated with Elysia.

Is the fuck really that good that Yuno neglected his fiancee?

And you, the daughter of the second Ducal household (who's not related to the royal family, of course) was blinded by rage and betrayal that you made Elysia's life a living hell.

Erm, why not the crown prince's too, then?

Remembering your past life made your head hurt. From the cliche love story down to the way you were treated made you scream to the oblivion.

After all, after Yuno figured out how you treated Elysia, he made your family kick you out. Powerless against the royal family, they had no choice but to exile you.

You got employed by your employer by then, an eccentric man who spoke of other worlds called 'Earth' and is bringing 'modern day capitalism' here. Whatever that means. But hey, he developed these things called 'cellphones' that made him skyrocket with money.

He's a weirdo, but at least he's easy to please.

But the bitch Elysia "accidentally" blasted light magic to your way, killing you instead of an assassin. Great.

But, then, you're only the minor villainess. The main villain was someone named Eros. The other Ducal household and your father's rival.

As young as 16, he already conquered the ducal household he's in and then, 6 years later, he had wealth rivalring that of the royal family's. Heck, maybe even surpassing it.

"Hello? Where's the checks and balances of this world?" That's what you usually ask yourself.

You never saw him outright, since he's always been so busy. But you clearly remembered when you're in and out of a coma back then after you got struck with the magic, a war broke out due to him.

Fortunately, you regressed into a baby still, so you could avoid being engaged to Yuno, and being involved with Elysia.

Growing up again with your mature mind was weird. Unlike last life, you weren't a brat, but a proper, cold, and an unattainable standard of what a noble woman should be. Well, if you exclude the coldness and the bitchy attitude sometimes.

In all honesty, your family loved you dearly. A clear contrast from your last life. You're a role model, perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, talented, and shows clear interest in politics and business.

The previous life, you were only a mouth to feed with a pretty face and a political pawn to integrate yourself into the royal family.

And as usual, you got engaged to the crown prince, much to your dismay.

Yuno was easy to read. He doesn't like clingy women, and he likes the chase. He's dumb, and only knows how to spend money.

"Ah, he's worthless."

What did you saw in him in the previous life, really?

Since you were unattainable to Yuno, he became attached to you. Wanting to conquer you.

And you always returned his advances with a flick of your fan and covering your face with a glare with your sharp eyes.

You're the thorned Rose of the Kingdom. Beautiful, yet prickly. It brought you to the limelight, but also, not. Due to you being closed off, news of you rarely get out.

So in the free time you had, you always disguised yourself with your dark magic and filled up your own coffers with the help of your knowledge of business last life (from your employer.)

You built hospitals, made schooling accessible... You were basically the saintess rather than Elysia.

Oh, did I mention that Elysia, with light magic, was the saintess, and you with dark magic was the prophesied Villainess? It's complicated.

But right now, with Elysia failing to bed Yuno in his crown prince coronation, due to him being only attached to you, you were free to do what you want while thinking of your next plan.

What you didn't know is that a certain pair of crystal blue eyes followed you.

You walked along the street of the outskirts of the Kingdom, inspecting the newly built school.

You just got out of the ducal household and immediately went here after being confronted by Elysia once more, who "accidentally" stumbled into the chateau and into you and Yuno. Can she get more obvious, really?

You never used your dark magic here in the outskirts since you felt safe in the people's arms. They never judged you, nor used you for your money. They're just glad more and more accessible facilities are being erected by the young lady.

While walking around, you got into the councilor's office who's busy with enrolling the children. He's the chief of the town, and is one of the few people who graduated fully back in the capital.

He graciously accepted the position of being the councilor after you approached him, since you genuinely wanted to help the outskirts.

You saw children happily playing around while the parents lined up, excitedly talking to one another.

When they saw you, they immediately curtsied and said hi.

"My lady! Hello!"

G-greetings my lady..."

"Oh my stars! It's the lady!"

"Look over here, my lady!"

You giggled and decided to mingle with them more, talking about mundane things in life and what other facilities can you put here.

"Okay, so a shopping center, huh? Okay, that's noted. Also, I think a gymnasium would work well also, so that there will be a place where all of you can have meetings, and also have children play."

They all excitedly nodded and bid you goodbye as you went out.

You felt like yourself here in the outskirts.

Maybe you can convince your father to give you this part of the territory, and your brother can manage the main household?

Your thoughts were interrupted by children pulling your skirt to play, cheekily grinning and playfully pushing a ball up to your arms. You grinned and chased them around, roaring loudly like a monster and pretending like you're a dragon.

The giggles and screams of delight of the children filled the lively streets, along the chatter of the townspeople.

"Sir? Are you okay? What are you looking at?"

"..."

Eros' eyes widened, then softened as he saw you, chasing the children around, playing with them and not minding the dirt clinging to your outfit.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his heartrate pick up as he cleared his throat. Red flushed his cheeks, as foreign yet also the familiar feeling of infatuation filled his heart.

The noise that surrounded him faded into the background, and somehow, everything seems so bright and colorful. All he could see is you, and you, and you...

You...

Beautiful, thorned you.

Eros.

The name itself sends shiver down the spine of people.

Of fear? Love? Or arousal?

He's a man of few words, only letting his actions talk to other people.

Such an otherwordly beauty like him garnered unwanted attention since he was a child.

Other than being extremely handsome, he's also very talented with politics and business, also with physical activities like horse riding and hunting.

Due to this, his mother developed a twisted inferiority complex, and also an almost incestious relationship with him.

She always hurled words that hurt his soul and emotions.

Then she'll hug him while saying sorry.

This cycle would continue on and on until he's 16.

It was supposed to be a joyous day, not until his mother forced himself on him.

Disgust, fear, and rage filled his body that time, and all he remembered is awakening his dark magic and consuming his mother.

After that, he was knocked out cold.

When he woke up, he remembered his past life on Earth.

He's a business man of such a high position, CEO.

He clawed out of his way from poverty. Stealing, investing, selling, he did everything just to get out of the clutches of being a plebian.

And, when he struck gold when his stationery business thrived, his genius made it possible for him to talk to investors and convinced them to invest in his work.

God, he's rich.

And once he reached the age of 24, he's a rich man.

Then he died due to being assassinated by his rival.

With now his previous life in his roster, he became a formidable business man. Eccentric even.

By some weird cheat, he developed cellphones.

Something so revolutionary was first met with skepticism, but it boomed in popularity when his friend, the crown prince Yuno, bought and used it.

it was weird, really. Yuno approached him to employ his ex fiancee in his company and take care of her.

Eros, who didn't mind, employed you.

Sweet, lovable you.

It was funny seeing you struggle to curry favor with him. Not used being the one who had to try to get close with him. The way you struggled to hide a frown when he mentioned over time, the way you hide your disdain when he talks about extra work...

God, you're so cute.

He spoiled you in the best he could do. Extra vacation days, snacks, all he could do without being too obvious.

Then you died.

You... Died.

By the hands of his friend, well, ex-friend's mistress.

Elysia.

That damn bitch doesn't know her place.

Then and there, his eccentricity died down, and all he knows is revenge back then.

You were in and out of coma, and seeing you swim between life and death made his heart roar out in pain.

He felt so helpless seeing you pale and vegetative, something that wasn't you.

So, with a soft promise leaving his lips, he waged war in your honor.

He fought blood, sweat, and tears in your name.

All he could think is you.

All he could see is you.

And as he ignored Yuno's plea, he beheaded Elysia.

The damn bitch raised the notion that dark magic users are evil, despite dark magic being only an another element.

She turned the tides on you.

Why should she live?

Yuno also. He betrayed you.

Once the royal family was dead, he brought your comatose body to the throne, and killed himself with you at the throne.

He made you ingest poison, something that doesn't cause pain to your already pained body.

Meanwhile, he killed himself by striking a sword down to his chest, and to his heart. The very same heart that loved you dearly.

Then he woke up,

a child again.

Back in time.

Getting away from the busy bustle of the ball, you got out to the garden and sighed. Letting the cold air bite into your skin.

Dread filled your heart as you realized once more that Elysia was nowhere to be found, and so did Yuno.

Your nerves got to you and you left the scene, overthinking the worse of the worst.

Did Elysia actually bed Yuno successfully?

Albeit just a bit late?

You covered your mouth, shaking dreadfully. The pain of your last life was getting to you once more. Trauma trembling you to the core.

"My Lady? Are you okay?"

A deep voice broke you out of your reverie. Something so silky, smooth, and familiar.

You turned around, your heart pounding as you saw your employer, Eros. He's dressed in noble clothes, gold, black, and blue.

He looks more uptight and strict this time around. What happened? Why does he look like that?

You never connected the dots, since you thought your employer and Eros were two different people.

But this?

Your heart trembled.

"G-greetings, your lordship." You curtsied, fighting back a frown just like how you did with him last life.

"You're still the same as ever."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing." Eros waved his hand.

This life, Eros was more brutal than the previous life. He exposed his mother, a pedophile who touched him and stole money from the household, letting her get beheaded by a rusty axe in the middle of the colosseum. After that, he joined the interkingdom war, and won it much earlier than before.

He's basically a warlord. A tyrant to his territory who imposed such strict rules that you doubted yourself if this was the same Eros you knew.

You both silently stood in front of each other before he took off his coat and gently draped it on your shoulders.

"It's cold out here, my lady." He whispered. His long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

He inhaled your scent, his lips trembling.

He missed you so much.

His precious rose.

He gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing it softly and lingering there, with his eyes screaming obsession.

His grip was strong yet also loving.

It made you blush.

"My Lady, if my friend, Yuno, hurt you, approach me."

Your eyes widened.

"Approach you?"

Eros smiled. His handsome face blinding you momentarily.

"Yes, i'll help you take revenge."

Eros eyes swiftly looked at the balcony up above.

"Like this."

Eros swiftly dipped you and kissed your lips.

God, you tasted so divine upon his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth, sweeping and tangling with your much more timid ones. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

His eyes were glaring at Yuno back at the balcony, who was naked on their bottom half with Elysia, shielding you from the scene.

Yuno's eyes widened, and he hastily dressed up, his eyes boring into Eros', and you.

This life, he'll protect you from pain.

He'll protect you from Yuno and Elysia.

He'll burn down the ground for you.

Just say the word.

---------

Hmm, twist upon twists. I love it. HEHEHEHE

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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lunarobyn22 · 9 months ago

Text

Here's the fic for those of you who want to read it on Tumblr instead of AO3! (I'm tired so this is my peace offering in place of today's Faebruary post 🙃) Check out @cloudninetonine 's "A Player's Aid" au, it'll give context for this!

Legend Gets What (He Thought) He Wanted

tags/warnings:

Threats of Violence, no y/n, Reader-Insert, Mention of making murder look like suicide, no one actually wants to die so don't worry, The others are there briefly, reader gender not specified, Kinda death threats but not exactly, Legend Needs a Hug, Reader Also Needs a Hug, They both get one tho don't worry, Resolved ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Legend is convinced that modern!reader is a traitor and a danger to the chain. He wants to get rid of the threat...Reader just really wanted to use the bathroom, but they somehow end up at sword point.

You all sat by the campfire after yet another long day of long walks punctuated by not long breaks and long fights. You were exhausted, from both the physical toll taken by the day as well as from dealing with Legend’s near constant attempts to make everyone hate you. Heck, you were almost starting to hate yourself because of him. You had to forcibly remind yourself that he’s likely only lashing out because your knowledge of everyone’s adventures probably made him feel vulnerable. You yawned and turned your focus to other things.

Your mind relaxed as you looked around. Your head was leaned to the right on Wild’s shoulder, and Hyrule sat curled up in front of you with his head in your lap. Wind had finally tired of regaling the chain with yet another tall tale, and thus had retired to intently watching Sky as he worked on a new carving. Twilight, Time, and Warriors were conversing in a relaxed manner, laughing at stories of Time’s shenanigans in the War of Eras as “Mask.” They told some embarrassing stories, and Time held a near perpetual blush in his ears and a fake annoyed expression thinly veiling his amusement. Four was quietly polishing his various weapons, making sure they were well-maintained for any future skirmishes. And finally, there was the chain’s resident salt shaker, the Veteran. Legend sat a few feet to your left, not-so-subtly eyeing you with jealousy and what you might label “loathing,” probably because Hyrule had chosen you as his pillow instead of his predecessor. He pretended to sort through his myriad of magical jewelry, but you knew better. You also knew better than to call him out at the moment.

Everyone (mostly) was at peace, full from a good supper provided by Wild, happy from the stories Wind had told, and now content to do as they pleased until it was time for the first watch to start. By your guess, each of the three watches lasted three hours, 9 PM - 12 AM, 12 AM - 3 AM, and 3AM - 6 AM, or just after sunrise, depending on the season. It was about 8:30, and your eyes had been drooping for an hour already. You let your mind wander as you stared into the fire, pondering where the tips of the flames disappeared to as they peaked and vanished, dipping back to the firewood just to jump up once more a second later.

All too soon Wild was nudging you and Rulie back to your own bedrolls as Sky set up for his watch period. You hazily recalled meaning to clean the mud and blood off your shoes as you took them off, but decided to just do it in the morning before you all set off again. It’s not like the stains were going anywhere while you slept. You were out almost as soon as you pulled up your blanket to your chin. You didn’t even hear Wild’s small chuckle as he tucked you in before he walked away to his own sleeping spot.

Your faint dreams of red eyes haunting the dark corners of endless mazes were interrupted by a twig snapping by your face. You inhaled sharply as your eyes flew open to assess the situation, but relaxed once you saw that it was just Sky going to wake Legend up for his shift on watch. He glanced down to you and offered a sleepy smile of apology, which you returned in kind, before nuzzling deeper into your pillow (which was unfortunately rather thin and small, but you figured that even if you had brought a full-size memory foam pillow from home, it wouldn’t stand a chance of fitting into your bag, no matter how enhanced it might be).

You faintly heard the Vet bemoan his fate as second watchman before his blanket rustled and he walked to the fire. You’re pretty sure he intentionally stepped on the same twig as Sky had when he passed by you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a flinch. Through half-lidded eyes you could vaguely see the grouch circle the camp before sitting on a log before the fire and facing the woods that surrounded your camp. He was even more grumpy tonight, because not only was he designated for the worst shift ever, but he didn’t even have a choice as Time forced it upon him due to a particularly scathing remark he’d made towards you earlier in the day.

You tried not to focus on his insults and apparent hatred, you really did, but recently it was getting harder to ignore. His questioning of Hyrule’s sudden loyalty to you turned to questioning everyone’s desire to not kick you out or abandon you to the next monster camp they found. He seemed convinced you were either an evil witch who forced Hyrule and Wild to love you, a monster disguised to destroy them, or even a direct agent of Dark Link (who you’d not-so-affectionately dubbed “Dink”) and planned to betray them all any day now. You, in turn, had stopped vehemently insisting you were harmless, and eventually resigned yourself to simply not rise to the bait of his stinging statements of distrust. You knew he’d been through a lot of pain and loss through his many journeys, but that didn’t excuse his treatment of you. Only your mother’s advice kept you somewhat sane — “bullies only prosper when you give them a reaction. If you don’t react, they have less reason to target you.” And yet, Legend’s berating only continued.

You silently huffed a sigh and turned around to lay on your other side, facing away from the fire. You didn’t really love the idea of turning your back to the one person who very clearly wanted you to cease existing, but you knew he had enough sense not to literally stab you in the back when you were both surrounded by witnesses who would decidedly not appreciate such a thing. Plus, the fire was too bright for your sleepy eyes anyway. You started a breathing exercise, prayed you’d assumed correctly about not getting murdered by your upset comrade tonight, and closed your eyes again.

——

An hour or so later you quietly groaned and sat up. Not only could you not fall asleep, but your bladder was beginning to rebel against the idea of waiting until morning to relieve yourself. The chain had made camp just a ways off from a wide yet shallow creek, and you decided that since you were already awake, you might as well go ahead and rinse your shoes off, too. That way they’d be dry in the morning and you wouldn’t have to worry about walking around in shoes that made your socks cold and wet. You shuddered at the thought and slowly stood, stretching your arms above your head and popping your back, then bending down to pick up your shoes and a bar of soap you’d bought in the town you all just passed through.

Legend spared you a calculating glance from his seat, saying nothing. You simply waved with your free hand and then signed “toilet” before walking away to take care of business. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know that he was staring holes into the back of your head; you could practically feel him doing so anyway. You sighed, choosing to instead focus on the foliage you passed on your walk, faintly illuminated by the fire back at camp and the dim glow from a bracelet Wild had given you. He said he’d used a brightbloom seed to make it, and you had been sure to express your gratitude. It was much easier than having to carry a torch, which was not only difficult if your hands were full, but was also very bright to your still-asleep eyes. That, and you’d almost started a forest fire last time you’d been entrusted to carry a torch when you weren’t yet fully awake (once the crisis had been averted, Legend of course claimed that you had done it on purpose, but you were so tired that you just gave him a deadpan stare with a raised eyebrow and plopped back onto your bedroll to resume sleeping).

After answering nature’s call and washing your hands, you sat criss-cross by the creek, took off your dirtied shoes, and started splashing them in the frigid water. It was colder than you’d expected, but everything barring your hands was still warm enough, and it helped shock you to be more awake and aware. You used some more of your soap to aid your struggle against the grossness crusted onto your shoes, thankful that they were made from something like leather, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to clean once you actually got started. As you washed, you listened to the sounds of the world around you, now returned since you were no longer disrupting their peace.

A sound like cricket chirps mixed with owl coos set the backdrop for the soundscape, while the occasional breeze played with leaves and stuck them in your hair. If you listened closely enough and stopped your washing, you swore you could almost hear the life within the flowers and greenery by your feet, the very soul of the land of Hyrule, its perseverance, growth, progress and patience, all poured with a parent’s care into each and every living thing it supported, down to the smallest weed by the creek bed where you sat.

The water before you seemed to whisper, not in the way the Sheikah technology would, but more like it was a living feeling, as if it wanted to impart to you the knowledge it had picked up on its journey to this place. You had heard a story, once, that water could hold memories; that every molecule of water in the world has existed since creation, for it cannot be created or destroyed by those who need it to survive. Every single drop had a story to tell, an event it had witnessed, a place it had once called home. Perhaps some of the water burbling and giggling before you was the same way — some of it might have seen the rise and fall of entire civilizations, the existence of every single hero, princess, and villain up to that very moment — and it would continue to amass these secrets, both big and small, every detail it would pass by, and no one would ever fully decipher its stories, its warnings, its wisdom and playfulness. And even so, it would continue to exist and endure, trickling on through the ages and epochs.

You were somewhat prone to these random philosophical trains of thought, and had thus been unknowingly sitting, unmoving, almost unblinking, in the same place for the past twenty minutes. If anyone were with you, they might have thought you to be having a memory episode akin to the ones Wild sometimes had. Indeed, you were so lost in the wanderings and ramblings of your own mind that you had no idea you were being watched. You had no clue until a sound was made that caused you to spring to your feet with a gasp and reach for the dagger you’d sheathed at your hip.

Legend stood at the tree line a few feet away, posture tense and, dare you say, predatory, unsettling stare boring into your own wide, surprised eyes. “What are you waiting for? Or should I say, who are you waiting for?” You blinked away the black spots at the edges of your vision from standing up too quickly, and relaxed the hand that held your knife as your brain worked to understand the situation.

“What?” you tried to be quiet, still recovering from being shaken out of your reverie. “Why would I be waiting for someone? They’re all asleep last I checked. Ooh shoot, did I wake someone up? I’m so sor-”

“Cut the crap, [Name],” he stood up even straighter, the line of his shoulders taught with anger. “I know you’re waiting for someone to give all your collected information to. Don’t pretend you’re all so goody-goody. I’ve seen the way you ask too many questions, always looking for more details to collect, more ways you can betray us, betray them. I knew you were a snitch, and I don’t know how you bewitched them all to trust you, but they’re all too blind to see it. But I’m not. I see right through you, I have from the start.”

He had stalked closer during his speech, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper you had only ever heard in movies. His approach had caused you to back up until your still bare feet felt the water’s lapping edge. You had dropped your boots, you weren’t exactly sure where, but that was only a vague thought in the very back of your mind. Your eyebrows scrunched together as your mouth opened and closed, trying and failing to come up with a good enough response. You weren’t spying, you were trying to find answers! You came from a completely different world, of course you had questions! He of all people should understand that, and yet he still accuses you? This finally snapped your patience, and you decided to just spell it out him:

“Look, I know you hate me, but this is too far, Legend. I am not some evil being to be defeated like in your adventures, I am not planning to cause trouble for you all, and I sure as anything would never betray you guys, especially not after the trust that has been extended to me by some of you. This group took me in, saved my life, helped me learn to defend myself, protected me time and time again, and I’ve only ever tried to help you, or at the very least not get in your way. I get that I’m not some ‘chosen hero’ with crazy butt-kicking skills, I know that I’m only okay-ish at fighting, not nearly as good as any of you, and I understand that my extensive knowledge of your adventures puts you on edge, but I swear on everything that I’m not a traitor, and the main thing that I just really don’t know is why you despise me when I’ve never even given you a single reason to do so!”

Your voice had steadily increased in volume, not quite to the point of shouting, but certainly not whispering any more. He seemed a bit surprised by your willingness to defend yourself, but he hid it quickly with a scowl and what sounded almost like a growl. You noticed dully that the forest had fallen tensely quiet.

“Oh drop the act, turncoat ,” he spat, “you have never been one of us, and the only reason I didn’t drop you off a bridge yet is because Hyrule would have my hide and Wild would poison my food. But don’t mistake my inaction for acceptance or ignorance. You’re no better than any of the enemies we fight on a daily basis. You’re actually worse, because you’ve wormed your way into my group, my allies, my brothers. You think you’re something special just because you got some of them to trust you?? You’re a parasite, a threat, and tonight is all the proof I need. I knew I should’ve spoken up more from the moment you oh-so-conveniently happened to stumble into our lives. You’re going to regret ever messing with us, and Dark Link will soon know without a doubt that he cannot ever send his agents into my family without dire consequences.”

His expression twisted to a hateful snarl, showing some of his teeth in an almost animalistic display of animosity. Your face, on the other hand, was flickering through countless expressions too quickly for even you to comprehend. You knew some of what you felt, pain, sadness, anger, guilt (even though you had no reason for that one), confusion, denial, and eventually a sort of raging, spiraling emptiness that screamed inside your chest. Your breathing quickened to an almost hyperventilating speed, and your eyes grew blurry with tears you’d been suppressing for weeks. Your hurt, misty eyes locked with a pair of violet, violent, volatile ones, and you realized that he was waiting for your response. His next actions could depend solely upon your response; your very life could depend upon whatever words next left your mouth.

You had tried so hard to be friendly to the group of Links, to not aggravate Legend too awful much. You had tried to help out wherever you could, to not be a burden, to not slow them down. You tried to let the pain of rejection roll off of you like water, to not let it get under your skin. You had tried so, so hard to be one of them; but you weren’t. It was at this point you realized what he’d said without actually saying it — he was afraid . Afraid of losing the only family he had left. He’d already lost his uncle, Marin, the whole island of Koholint, and almost all the people of his Hyrule viewed him with disdain at best and outright hatred at worst. He’d had to leave Ravio and Fable back in his Hyrule, and he never knew when (if) he’d ever see them again. You realized on an even deeper level the true message behind his words — ‘you are a threat to those I love. You are dangerous. You bring pain and that is all you’ll ever do. You are not worthy of any trust, comfort, protection, or love from anyone, least of all my brothers. You would be better off never having met us, having never existed.

You would be

better off

dead.’

You had tried so hard, and yet… You had never actually brought anything to the group but problems. You thought through your interactions with them all, but all you could see is the many ways you’d caused them worry, stress, or even anger. You were another mouth to feed, another bed to pay for at inns, another liability in fights, another person to slow down for as they walked. You were a burden. No, worse: you were a danger. What if they were so busy looking out for you that they didn’t see an enemy until too late? What if you slowed them down to the point where they couldn’t get where they were going in time? What if you drained their food or rupee supplies too fast? What if you got hurt again and caused stress and tension to rise, causing fights and even divisions to break out. You were a problem. Not a traitor, no, and not intentionally endangering, but they couldn’t afford to have you around any longer. And you couldn’t just leave, you’d die within a day if Dink didn’t find and torture you, but Legend wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew for a fact that you were out of their way. Permanently. He didn’t just want you to disappear; he wanted you gone. And finally, with a sinking heart, you realized just how right he was.

At this final revelation, a tear finally did slip past your lashes down to meet your quivering chin. You felt your thoughts scatter like startled deer, your heart thundering in its cage, pounding in your ears, scaring away the life in the forest around you. And you decided. You were a danger. You had no power here.

“I - I’m so sorry , I - I never meant to drive you apart, I -” you paused to hiccup and take a breath. You knew you were breaking, your composure deteriorating, but it was too late to stop. “Legen- Link. If you truly see me as a threat, if you truly believe that I will bring nothing but harm to you, to my-your friends, if…if you think that - that I should - I should never have met you, that I should never have…existed, I…I know I can’t force you to change what you so deeply believe, I -” You gasped a little shuddering inhale, and you made your final decision, the choice that you knew would be your last. You steeled yourself, and spoke. “If you honestly believe that you would all be better off - be safer - if I was gone, if you believe I’m a threat, that I would hurt you, that I - harbor ill intent, then…” you swallowed, still taking short, stuttering breaths. Then you turned around, held your hands palm-outward and arms open to the sides, and bowed your head; you left your entire back and neck, your spine, completely exposed to the man who wanted you dead. You leveled your voice, and accepted your fate. After all, he was an experienced hero, while you were just an inexperienced nobody. He would know what he’s talking about, what would be safest and best; you wouldn’t. He was not prone to emotional decisions; you were. If that was the case, then he was right. You were a threat to your friends.

“If you truly think that I should die for the good of the group, for their safety and happiness, then…then I… I trust you to do what’s right for your family. I would never willingly hurt any of them, I never wished any of you ill but…maybe I do just bring bad luck. Maybe I truly am a curse, a threat, a liability. If that’s the case, maybe - I know I can’t just leave, since Dink is after me and I know too much so - maybe I really am better off dead.”

There was a moment of silence, and then you heard him unsheathe his sword. The back of your neck prickled with danger, but you didn’t dare look over your shoulder. You counted the seconds as they passed, and you realized you had made it to thirty and nothing had happened yet. Why the hesitation? You assumed you’d be dying by now. Perhaps…perhaps Legend feared taking the blame for your death? Causing more division within the chain? Well, you shouldn’t let that stop him if your friends’ lives and safety were at stake. You would do anything to protect them, no matter what. Legend was right, and this had to happen. He had to do this. So why hadn’t he yet? You decided to offer some support, try to speed it along. You were never one for fearing the future but you really wanted this to be over, since you could feel the dread clawing up your throat, numbing your words and preventing any cohesive thought, forcing you to stand still and hear your blood thundering through your ears.

“You could, uh, you could make it look accidental, if you want?” You suggested. “Maybe - maybe I slipped, hit my head on a rock in the creek, maybe I drowned after I fainted or something, maybe I was playing with my knife and - and accidentally hit an artery.” At this point you started to hyperventilate again, desperate, but unsure as to why. “Maybe I was surprised by an enemy, a - a stalfos! - and I was too slow,” you continued, “or - or maybe I was kidnapped, maybe I was gutted by an enemy, maybe I - I just hit my head on something, maybe I had a - a - a hidden injury,” you were nearing hysterics now, “maybe, maybe I just — maybe I did it myself? Maybe I just couldn’t go on? Maybe, maybe I, I just - what if - I,” you lost your sense of words for a moment, “I can’t, I - what about if I just - just - You don’t have to take the blame, you know? You - you could cover it up! Maybe you just were doing your final rounds at the end of your watch and just found me - m-my body, maybe -”

“[Name] are you serious?” He cut through your rambling and you guessed he thought you sounded rather impertinent. You were trying to tell him how to do his job, and you’d kept on repeating what he likely had already worked through in his own mind.

Your mouth clicked closed so quickly your teeth almost clipped your tongue. Perhaps he wanted you to die quietly. You realize you were panicking and might’ve been too loud. Oh no, what if you woke someone up? Then Legend would get caught, and you would be the cause for even more trouble for everyone, and things would get even more tense, and if they were more distracted then they’d be in more danger, then…

…

You were still alive for some reason, although if you hadn’t been breathing so heavily you would have heard someone else’s suspiciously loud breathing behind you. As it was, you continued to hold still, arms sore from being held out, but you didn’t dare move. Even you knew better than to rob a predator of his prey, especially when he is so close to the killing blow. You were no fool, you knew he’d likely planned this for a while, and you knew better than to irritate him further. You just wanted to say one more thing, one final reassurance.

“I only want what’s best for them…best for you. I don’t hate you, contrary to what you probably think. I’m so sorry for any pain I’ve caused you, I truly am…I - I only ask that you make it quick, not for my sake, but if I was too loud a second ago and it woke anyone up and they found you kil-” your breath hitched, “killing me, it — it might make things worse for you all, and the last thing I wanna do is make things harder for all of you guys, I love you all and I—”

“Just SHUT UP!” Legend’s voice crashed through your pleading, and you stopped. And through the suddenly deafening silence, you realized something. Had his voice cracked? You listened more intently. He was breathing unevenly, almost gasping, almost…no, no your soon-to-be-killer couldn’t possibly…

He inhaled deeply and hoarsely whispered, “ Why? How, how could you just, just…” And in his struggle for words you heard something you would never have considered possible.

You had offered to die, just like he wanted, and

Legend —

Link —

was crying .

The man who wanted you dead, who planned to watch the light leave your eyes, was crying.

Perhaps he was just so happy you’d stopped resisting? Or perhaps he simply disliked the idea of causing someone pain? Yes, that was likely the reason; you were still a person, after all, and you knew that the Veteran, despite his callousness, did in fact have a heart (however guarded it might be).

“…It’s ok, Link,” you whispered reassuringly, “I’ll probably hardly even feel it, and if you’re right, and I’m sure you are, then…I deserve it anyway, and…I trust you to do what’s right, because…well, you’re a hero. You’re Link. I’m just… I’m nobody , nothing, so…It’s okay…” You stopped there, you knew he didn’t want you to talk, but darn it you always had a weak spot for people who cried, and you just had to try to reassure them, even if this particular person was planning to send you to meet your Maker a bit earlier than you’d thought you would.

But…there was still no sudden pain, no sword through your chest or severing your head, no sudden hit to the skull, nor were there hands forcing your face into the water until the bubbles stopped, nor any cutting, no slitting your throat, just…quiet sobbing?

Your mind froze for a second, and you held your breath to see whether the crying was actually from you. And it wasn’t. So, you waited. What else could make Legend wait? He was a hero, right? Maybe he just needed to psych himself up? It couldn’t be easy, you figured, literally stabbing someone in the back —

OH! Maybe that was actually the problem? Maybe he wanted to be at least a little more honorable and kill you face-to-face? After all, back-stabbing has a rather negative connotation attached to it. Facing forward and watching your killer do the job wasn’t really what you’d prefer, but it’s not like you had much choice in the matter. After all, he was the one with the sword.

In order to solve this newfound problem you slowly turned around and faced your whole body towards him, eyes closed, arms still out in a sign of surrender, tense muscles still ready for whatever method he would choose to end you. Maybe it would be kind? Likely not, seeing as you were a threat to his family.

Tentatively you opened your mouth and quietly reassured him, “If you want to do it head-on and not with my back to you, that’s…cool too? I-”

“Oh goddesses,” he practically choked on the words, “you…you actually are serious…?” His voice was rough with…emotion? Confusion? But why? You were giving him what he wanted, right? You were keeping your frien- his family safe…right?

Right?

And then you cautiously cracked open your eyes a little bit, and then opened them all the way, and you lifted your gaze and actually looked at him, rather than just listening.

And you saw that he was an absolute wreck.

Rarely seen tears now freely flowed from his violet eyes, and he had to sniff to keep his nose from running too much. His chin quivered slightly and his adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to find words without openly sobbing. He dropped his sword as his posture went slack, a hand raising to cover his mouth, his watering eyes wide with disbelief and something remarkably akin to grief. Your confusion turned to concern for the man before you. Why was he crying? Was he hurt somewhere? Surely that was the case, for no one could change their mind as abruptly as he seemed to, right?

He finally whispered hoarsely, “You…do you really…you’re actually willing to just…let me kill you?” He seemed shocked at your actions, but you didn’t know why. Unless…oh gosh, had you misread the situation?? You weren’t sure how you could have, but what if you did? What if you were the one to make him cry? How awful of a person could you be?

“I — I’m sorry, I — yeah, I meant it, really. I mean, I still do, but — I-I’m sorry if I misunderstood, I really am, I just wanted what was right, and I — I just figured you’d know better than me, that you’re right, but I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear, I’m sorry for making you cry, I never wanted that, I just wanted to keep them — keep you all — safe, but if I—”

“Just…stop… please .”

And you froze. Because Legend…he’d said please . He had never said please in the entire time you’d known him, and certainly not while addressing you of all people. So, you stopped. Your arms were in pain, however, and you risked slowly lowering them so they could lose their pins and needles. He didn’t react. He just brought his fist to his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the tears. He was no longer actively crying, so you counted that as a win. You continued to look at him, confused, but not trying to talk any more. You figured he would decide what to do in a minute. Maybe, you thought, he was crying with relief that he could finally stop fighting you.

And then he finally spoke again, in a very small, very subdued, almost unbelieving voice. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?” He seemed to hardly believe it.

No, you denied the small spark of hope trying to take root in the void of your chest. There’s no way. It’s too late. He’s going to kill me. He can’t have been wrong. I’m supposed to die, right?

He raised his eyes to meet yours once more, and it was all you could do to nod in agreement. After all, you had never tried to deceive any of them. You’d only ever endeavored to tell the truth, and you weren’t going to stop now of all times.

“You’re not…a witch?” He seemed to almost be thinking aloud, not actually talking to you anymore, but you nodded along anyway, just in case. “You’re not actually a traitor, are you?” He murmured, “You’re…goddesses, you’re not even evil, are you? An enemy would never turn their back to me, Dark Link would never surrender, but…that means you…you’re just a person…just…” Then, in an even smaller voice and with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, “You’re…just you? Was I about to — to kill — an innocent?”

And at that moment you recognized his emotion: horror.

Link was mortified, absolutely horrified that he, a hero of courage, one of Hylia’s chosen, a bearer of the triforce, savior of realms and countries, Link, was about to kill you, a person who had never actually harmed him or his brothers, someone he’d been so set on not trusting that he’d tried to twist you into something that you’d never been. You had tried so hard to protect them where you could, to ease their burdens, to not cause problems, to bond with them, to ignore his acidic hatred, and you’d been through so much pain and loss, and been targeted by Dark himself, and he still had tried to make everyone reject you. You were traumatized, hunted, injured, afraid, and he still hadn’t held back. Your questions had never been any sort of interrogation, but simply confusion. The trust you gained from the others was simply friendship, not any sort of witchcraft or manipulation.

And, with mounting terror, he finally, deeply, truly realized that he had somehow even convinced you — sweet, innocent, confused, traumatized, eager-to-help, optimistic [Name] — that you actually were the problem, that you should —

Oh goddesses, he’d convinced you that you were better off dead, that you should want to die — that you should just let him kill you. And for some heartbreaking reason, you had not only agreed, but then you’d exposed your most vulnerable points, without any sort of armor or protection, dropped your weapon, lowered your guard, closed your eyes, and told him to do what he believed was right…

You thought he was going to kill the person he should have been protecting this entire time. And you endorsed it only because of ignorant trust in someone who was supposed to be a hero.

And when he panicked, you’d tried to help him kill you .

He looked at you and saw your pain, your sadness, your survival, your resignation, your scars, your desperation to help others, he saw YOU, and not a trace of what he’d so firmly believed you to be. He was planning your death, and you’d tried to comfort him.

And Legend broke.

He did something neither of you expected; Legend, the one who had tried so hard to hate you, vaulted over the small distance between you, wrapped his arms around you, and held on so tightly he thought he might never let go. You had stiffened at first, halfway expecting a knife in your back, but when that didn’t happen you relaxed, almost dizzy with relief and swirling emotions, and you hugged him back just as fiercely. His face was on your shoulder, head bowed so that the fabric of your shirt muffled his increasingly panicked sobs and hiccups. And through those noises you could hear him apologizing relentlessly,

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, goddesses I’m so sorry, [Name] I — I’m so — so sorry, I’m sorry, I was so blind , I’m sorry, I was wrong, I was so, so, so — wrong, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and so he continued.

You finally breathed for what felt like the first time since he’d snuck up behind you. Your heart was pounding and, now that you held Legend in your arms, you could feel his heart thundering just as quickly as your own. You gently lowered the two of you to the ground, trying to comfort him even as you worked through your own dissolving panic. You held him as if he were a child, gently rocking back and forth as you tried to imbue him with a sense of safe-secure-trust-okay.

“Shhh sh sh shh,” you whispered, “it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay, shh shh shhh, it’s okay, I…

I forgive you, Link.”

At this statement he began to sob even more heavily, and your own tears soaked his tunic as surely as his did your own.

“NO! No, you shouldn’t! You — you — I almost killed you!!” He pulled back and looked at you without letting go. “I would have killed you, [Name]! You — you can’t just forgive me! I — I’m so sorry, I can’t ever explain, I — I was so sure you weren’t trustworthy, I didn’t even give you a chance, I — gosh I basically just tried to freaking kill you, and you just…you can’t just — just —” he fell into hysteric hiccups once again, allowing you to interrupt.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you don’t decide what I can and can’t do, isn’t it?” You released your hug to hold his face in both hands, using a thumb to brush his tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll admit…I was, for a moment, scared, but,” you cut off his heartbroken and shattered gasp, “I get it. I don’t excuse what you’ve done, but I do somewhat understand and I forgive you, Legend. I choose to forgive you, Link.”

…

His world stopped in that moment. He stared into your eyes, so open, brimming with tears that he had caused. You shouldn’t forgive him. He was going to murder you, literally stab you in the back, in cold blood, right outside the safety of camp where his own brothers, who trusted both him and you, slept peacefully, placing full faith in him to keep the monsters at bay. And yet here he was, more of a monster than any of their Ganons or Ganondorfs could have ever hoped to be. He was despicable.

And then you even went so far as to offer him a watery smile that tugged gently on the Sheikah scars adorning your face, the scars of what you’d endured and survived. Oh goddesses, you were trying to comfort him — him — instead of yourself. You opened your arms and offered him another hug, and he was suddenly so thankful you were alive, that you were there with him, and that he hadn’t killed you. And he finally, fully, completely collapsed, releasing the pain he’d hidden away for so long from so much betrayal, distrust, and loss, burying his face into your shoulder once more. His stuttering breaths and hiccups prevented him from speaking, from begging you to hate him back, from telling you to strike him down then and there as surely as he planned to do to you, from screaming until his voice gave out simply because of his pure loathing toward himself, toward this monster he had let himself become.

You gently nudged him back toward camp, all the while holding him and tracing pointless patterns along his back, caressing his hair and whispering forgiveness in his ears. You fell asleep trying to keep watch for him by the fire, both of you tangled up in the other’s embrace, resting in the safety of someone you loved.

You both slept soundly and without nightmares for the first time in weeks.

….

And as the two of you sat there after crying your souls out to each other, having realized how much you actually cared for one another, the sounds of the forest slowly filtered back, joining with your sobs in a beautiful melody of mourning and life, shame and forgiveness. Your rivers of tears mingled together and joined the small creek, the whispers of your pain, relief, salvation, and reconciliation joining the water’s ever-increasing library of whispered memories and silent emotions. And it would never tell a soul, for no one could know what it knew; and you would never, ever know just how happy it was to gain your streams of tears and joy instead of the rivers of your life-blood.

And if the third watchman woke to find the two most bitter of enemies curled up together asleep by the fire, tear tracks on their red-splotched faces, hair unkempt and, in your case, feet bare, and if he simply draped a blanket over you both and almost cried himself, well…who needs to know?

#linked universe x reader #linked universe fic #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fic #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu #loz #fanfiction #fanfic #RobynWrites #writers on tumblr #writers on ao3 #ao3 #lu legend #the legend of zelda #legend x reader

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thefrogdalorian · 10 months ago

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The Best of Both Worlds

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

Summary: When a new Star Wars TV show called The Mandalorian premiered, you found yourself completely enamoured with the titular character. Enjoyment of watching the lone bounty hunter travel through the galaxy quickly turned to obsession. There was just something about the show that captured your imagination. Now, you spend much of your free time — when you're not working a fast-paced, minimum wage and incredibly stressful job at a prestigious London Museum— speaking to your online friends about your love for the show. There's just one thing... Despite how much you love The Mandalorian, no one knows the identity of the man behind the helmet... either in the show, or in real life. You only know him as Mando. No one has ever seen his face, no one knows his name. Even after the countless hours of speculation from fans online, which even you have occasionally participated in, no one is any the wiser to the identity of the mysterious man who wears the shiny armour. Surely, given the depth of your love for the show, you'd recognise if the man who you spend so much time obsessing over online was to ever cross paths with you. Right?

Content Warnings: Reader is AFAB, uses she/her pronouns and in her mid 20s. Age gap between her and Din is noted but not really central to the story. Grogu is human, hints of past trauma/child abuse before Din adopted him are mentioned but not described in detail. Some mature scenes later on in the fic but not explicit smut... because I just cannot write x reader smut! Author's Note: SO very excited to finally share this fic! Thank you to the lovely @suresnips for being my beta. I really appreciate you ♡ This baby was originally my NaNoWriMo 2023 project and was inspired by this post from @toxic-seduction that I saw one evening and couldn't stop thinking about! POVs will alternate chapter to chapter from Din to reader. It was fun to write that way! Set in London for a few reasons: partly because I love the movie Notting Hill and it has some of those vibes (if you squint), also, the village where Din lives is based on Elstree Studios just outside London, where the OT was filmed and ultimately because NO WAY was I writing a modern!AU set in the states, it would've been painfully obvious a Brit wrote it. While there are lots of references to places in London, I don't live there so it might not be truly accurate (Londoners don't come for me). Also, to be political for a sec, reader works at the British Museum and I hate that institution. This was actually the line of work I was interested in when I was at Uni but for many different reasons I did not pursue it. However, it works for the plot of this story and as you'll see, she doesn't exactly love it either and goes on a few rants. Just wanted to make that clear that her job there is not an endorsement of it or anything. I can't stand them or their historical apologist bs and I wish we would give back all the things we stole (including the Parthenon Marbles)! Finally, it was incredibly important to me that the actor behind Mando in this fic clearly be the fictional character of Din Djarin rather than the real person Pedro Pascal, because rpf is not my jam! I hope I did that pretty well but just wanted to warn that if you're expecting me to use Din as some kind of way to write a Pedro fic, this won't be for you! Okay, I'll shut up now! This fic is fully written, just needs editing so hopefully I'll get a couple of chapters up each week, but life happens. I'm very proud of this one and I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also if you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, please let me know! Happy reading ♡

❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Why Does It Always Rain On Me? [Reader POV]: After a dreadful day which saw you drenched by a rainstorm after leaving a hectic day at work, you reflect on your love for Mando and upcoming excitement for the sci-fi convention you will soon be attending with your internet best friend.

He Is My Only Priority [Din's Pov]: The character of The Mandalorian is known and loved by millions. But there is another, much softer side to the man who portrays him that Din Djarin is determined to keep hidden from the world, despite the challenges that presents for him and his beloved son, Grogu.

This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate...

Curiosity Killed The Cat [Din's POV]: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected...

He's So Tall (And Handsome As Hell) [Reader's POV]: Being back in the real world and returning to work after an incredible weekend at the convention where you had so many fun experiences is taking its toll on you. The thought of collapsing on your couch in front of The Mandalorian is the only thing keeping you going. However, the universe has other plans for you. News of an out-of-hours tour for a private client that you are asked to lead almost sends you over the edge, but when you finally meet the man, he is the opposite of what you were expecting. Weirdly, he seems familiar...

With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone...

You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything...

Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date...

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV): Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you...

There's A War Inside Of Me - [Din's POV]: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather...

It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward - [Reader's POV]: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.

The Calm - [Din's POV]: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

The Storm - [Reader's POV]: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...

P.S. - I tried to be inclusive for all body types and skin tones in this fic, but if I missed something, I do apologise. If you do spot something that takes you out of the fic, I am more than happy for constructive criticism as I wouldn't want anyone to be excluded on those grounds. I am always trying to do better and would love to know where I went wrong so I can improve and be more aware of these things going forward, so I would appreciate it if you could let me know if you do spot anything. Thank you so much! ♡

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro boys

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demonzoro · 1 year ago

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none of this is proofread but here's my ideal modern au for the goth fam. wall of text incoming, sky is blue, etc.

mihawk: World's Most Reluctant College Professor. history/archaeology. reluctantly employed because his place of residence (half-wrecked castle) is owned by the university and one of the terms for him to live there for free is to teach classes. initially hired as a publicity stunt that petered out. actual respected swordsman in the modern age but the reality is "swordsman" is... not very lucrative. really important to me that he is forcibly employed while having gigantic unemployed energy.

his ass is not showing up to a lecture hall unless under extreme duress (shanks showing up to his place unannounced again🙄). fully aware his papers are only taken as a credit filler (robin lectures the papers that are more practically applicable). almost exclusively "teaches" by emailing out reading lists and assignments. actively trying to get his students to drop his paper so he can do fuck-all for the rest of the year.

zoro: phys ed major. he's so serious about his main courses as well as mihawk's stupidly niche paper. probably the first person the "Dracule Mihawk Teaches Here!" publicity stunt has worked on in years. has trouble with the heavy focus of book-smarts this paper requires but powers through it best he can until mihawk sets some indecipherable tome as part of a reading list and zoro is like. okay. you leave me no choice.

he fully shows up on mihawk's doorstep at 9:44PM on a tuesday night brandishing this tome. mihawk answers the door because he is two bottles into his wine.

zoro, furious that this piece of shit tome has no audiobook alternative: this. YOU. explain. NOW. mihawk: a student. at my doorstep. did shanks blab to you. zoro: your address is publicly listed as a minor tourist attraction. mihawk (<- didn't know that): hm. come in.

zoro is treated to a full drunk history session and the supermarket gift wine mihawk has been avoiding but accidentally opened. he wakes up the next morning and zoro is still there in one of the guest rooms. he's like what are you doing here and zoro is like. i don't have a whole day to waste getting back to my dorm i need to do your assignment.

mihawk, fully aware the dorms should only be a max twenty minute walk away: interesting. get out.

safe to say, zoro thinks visiting mihawk's home is easier than emailing him. which is true in some ways since mihawk takes small joys in putting unread emails straight into trash.

perona: fashion major OBVIOUSLY. really interested finding vintage/archival sewing patterns/designs and modernising them. LOVES using essays as outlets for her rants. blase on everything else in life but takes her course so seriously. HATES zoro ever since he almost made her fail an assignment because he had checked out a book she needed and held it for fucking aaages.

similarly zoro hates perona bc she almost made him fail an assignment by hogging the only lightbox on this side of the campus that makes it possible to read some of the archival material mihawk puts on his impossible reading lists.

zoro gets lost in mihawk's castle and meets perona in-person for the first time outside of a name on a booking sheet and they have a huge stupid argument. zoro storms off and accidentally finds mihawk again this way and he's doubly mad because he can't believe mihawk has been chasing him away all this time while letting another student just live in the east wing.

mihawk (<- didn't know that): there's a what.

turns out perona just said "umm dorm fees? rent? in this economy? there's a wrecked castle 20mins away from campus it's free real estate". and she's right. she also finds out mihawk has staff access to archival materials not readily open to students and she immediately whips out a wishlist.

anyways i imagine perona graduates and becomes a fashion designer. zoro decides booksmarts is not for him and drops out to focus fully on a professional athlete career or make his way as a stuntman. models for perona on occasion. mihawk fully quits his job after those two leave bc they were the only ones in years that made it interesting. retires but robin recommends him as a consultant to the museum society and he does some work there. ALWAYS calls zoro or perona if he's restoring smthng cool he thinks they would love.

jfc are you still here. i kiss you on the lips

#mihawk wld slay as a retired-not-retired professor #and by slay i mean you are killing the students good gd.#but like tbh what else wld you transfer the warlord of the sea vibe to ..... his apathy/antagonism to the world govt #what better parallel than forced tenure and HORRIBLE university admin.... college bureaucracy .... [shudders]#btw i know nothing abt history papers or how unis work #this is all made up for maximum antics.#✨#goth fam

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sidekick-hero · 11 months ago

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I didn’t know that it could be easy

When the wonderful @sentient-trash sent me this beautiful steddie art I knew I needed to write something for it. So why not fix the heartbreak I caused with this ficlet here? Thank you again, Simon, I love your art so much 💜💜

"It has to be perfect, Wayne. Do you hear me? Perfect."

Eddie knows he's overthinking this, obsessing over things that probably won't matter in the end, like the color of the tablecloth or whether the scented candles smell like cinnamon or vanilla. It's just...this is Steve and he needs this to be perfect because Steve deserves nothing less. Eddie almost screwed up this thing between them once, and he's been terrified of doing it again ever since.

It's a miracle and a half that they've made it this far. Their third Christmas as a couple, living together in their cozy apartment with their cat Garfield and their dog Bowie. That they made it to the point where Eddie has a ring hidden between his Dnd dice set, waiting to be placed on Steve's hand if he wants it.

God, what if he doesn't want it?

Because four years ago, Eddie had foolishly pined for Steve. Worst of all, he’d done so after pushing the other man away himself after a drunken night together early in their friendship slash roommateship. At the time, he'd thought his feelings had been one-sided, telling himself he'd done it so he wouldn't lose Steve completely. Eddie had never been the kind of guy you would choose to be with after a quick tumble in the sheets, so why would someone as sweet and funny and gorgeous as Steve?

As he discusses his plans for the evening with his uncle, so goddamn determined to make it the perfect Christmas for his boyfriend, he thinks back to their fight that had almost ended it all. Steve had been with someone else after Eddie had made it clear that their night together had been a drunken mistake and that he wanted them to be friends. Eddie had been dying inside, even as he tried to be happy for Steve. Things had come to a head when Eddie had come home and found Steve and his boyfriend Sam making out on the couch. He had reacted badly and Steve had followed Eddie to his room and confronted him about his behavior.

God, he can still see Steve's face, the tears forming in Steve's eyes as he told Eddie that he couldn't do it anymore, watching Eddie disappear before his eyes. Telling him that he fucking missed him. Steve's boyfriend had interrupted their fight before anything else could be said, and Eddie had left their apartment to wander aimlessly through the night.

"Don't forget the pecan pie, it's his favorite. And the banana ice cream. Yeah, I know I hate banana everything, but it's his guilty pleasure. I made some toffee and caramel beans to put in it and some chocolate topping and whipped cream to go with it, so - I don't know why you’re laughing at me, but I don't have time for this, he'll be back from walking Bowie any minute and I still have to put the presents under the tree. Just. Will you help me make this the best Christmas he'll ever remember? Please?"

He's an anxious mess, and he knows his uncle can tell, because instead of teasing him further, he just confirms in a warm and gruff voice that he will help Eddie make this the best Christmas for his boy. They end the call and Eddie rushes into their shared office and recreation room. It is actually Steve's old room from when they were roommates instead of boyfriends. Nowadays it's used as a guest room when one of their friends or his uncle sleeps over, and as a storage room for all the stuff they don't want lying around the apartment taking up space.

It's also where they keep the Christmas presents.

Eddie carefully carries them over to their Christmas tree and places them underneath it. All except one, which he puts in his pocket. Playing with the simple gold band in his pocket, Eddie couldn't help but think back to that night over three years ago.

He had snuck into their dark apartment, assuming that Steve was staying at Sam's to avoid Eddie. He had decided to tell Steve the truth about his feelings during his long walk, rehearsing what he would say, playing out a hundred different scenarios. Still, he hadn't been prepared to find Steve lying on Eddie's bed, apparently asleep while waiting for him, with Eddie's favorite hoodie clutched to his chest.

The sight had hit him hard, making his breath catch in his lungs and his heart stutter in his chest. He had just stood there for what seemed like hours, watching Steve's sleeping form on his bed. Steve had looked worried, even in his sleep, a slight crease between his eyebrows and the hand holding his sweater had been clenched into a tight fist. His whole body was hunched up as tight as it could be, his knees pressed against his chest as if protecting himself from the cold and empty room. That was what finally made Eddie move.

He went back into the living room and grabbed the afghan off the couch before making his way over to Steve. But as he placed the blanket over the sleeping form, Steve had stirred.

"Eddie?" He had mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep.

Unable to help himself, Eddie had knelt by his side and started to stroke his hair. "Yeah, it's me. Go back to sleep, Stevie. We'll talk in the morning, 'kay?"

But when he had tried to get up, he had been stopped by Steve's hand on his arm, his eyes searching Eddie's with surprising clarity. "Stay. Please."

Maybe it was the late hour or the emotional exhaustion. Maybe it was because Eddie had no fight left in him to deny himself or Steve what they both obviously wanted. Maybe it was just the way Steve had looked at him, the memory of the tears in those eyes still clear in Eddie's mind. Whatever it was, Eddie had just slipped out of his jeans before crawling onto the bed right behind Steve, pushing the sheets out from under them to pull them over their heads. With their bodies pressed together and Steve in his arms, they had both fallen asleep.

The next morning they'd woken up late, still tangled under Eddie's blanket. Everything had been warm and hazy, perfect really. When he felt Eddie stir behind him, Steve had rolled over in his arms and they had just looked at each other for a long moment before Eddie had broken the silence between them.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I don't even know where to begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Steve had just taken his hand, his thumb caressing the back of it in small circles, and it had given Eddie the courage to go on.

He told Steve all the things he had been too afraid to say before.

They had talked for a long time. Steve telling him how much he had wanted Eddie that night, drunk or sober, that he had liked him for a while and had hoped they would get together afterwards. But then Eddie had called it a mistake and asked Steve to be friends. So he'd tried, but he'd never gotten over Eddie. Sam had known that Steve was nursing a broken heart when they got together, and after seeing how Eddie had reacted to their relationship and how it had gutted Steve to see Eddie pull away, he had put two and two together. He wished Steve good luck, but said he couldn't wait for Steve to get over someone who clearly wanted him back.

"I fucked up bad, huh?" Eddie had asked with a pained smile, looking at their intertwined hands between them. He couldn't believe that Steve was still here, holding him close and lifting their joined hands to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of Eddie's.

"Kind of. But I think we can fix this."

"And how do you suggest we do that, oh wise one?" Eddie had asked, hope blossoming in his chest at the warmth of Steve's smile.

Pulling Eddie impossibly close, Steve whispered against his lips, "Would you just kiss me, you idiot?"

Eddie had never been happier to be called an idiot, as it led to them exchanging soft kisses that soon became more heated, tongues sliding against each other to take each other's moans right out of their mouths.

When they finally stumbled into their kitchen, it was late noon, but that didn't stop them from making breakfast together before spending the day lounging on their couch, exchanging kisses and soft whispers of how happy they were to finally be here.

That day, Eddie had vowed to work hard to never let something so precious slip through his fingers again.

Since then, they'd adopted a grumpy orange-and-white cat with one eye and a mutt, moved Steve's stuff into Eddie's room ("Because that's where we finally got our shit together, Eds"), and Wayne had all but adopted Steve into the Munson family. Robin, Steve's best friend, had taken a little longer to warm up to Eddie because she had a front row seat to Steve's heartbreak thanks to Eddie being an idiot. But she had come around, as had Steve's little brother Dustin, who was away at college, a fact Steve didn't take too well. So Eddie had invited Dustin and his mother, as well as Robin, without telling Steve, hoping it would be the perfect surprise for him.

As if his thoughts had summoned them, the doorbell rang, alerting Eddie to the arrival of his guests. Opening the door with a flourish, he found Dustin and his mother standing there, along with two large suitcases.

"The Hendersons! Welcome to our humble abode, please come in." Eddie greets them cheerfully before leading them into the warm and cozy apartment.

He gets them settled in their guest room and is about to make them both some hot cocoa when the doorbell rings again, this time revealing Robin and his uncle, who happen to have arrived at the same time. They also gather in the kitchen, with Wayne taking over the cocoa duties. They all shove more presents into his arms, which he dutifully places under the tree as well. And in a wider circle around it, because holy shit, that's a lot of presents.

The only thing missing is Steve, who takes their dog for long walks whenever he has the time and hasn't been back yet.

Wayne is in the middle of telling a rather embarrassing story from Eddie's childhood, which the man himself tries to stop, but to no avail, when he is saved by the sound of a key turning in the lock of their front door. Eddie mimes for everyone to be quiet as he makes his way to the door as quickly as possible.

"Stevie, light of my life, you're back!" Eddie calls out in excitement as soon as the door opens to reveal his boyfriend and their dog.

Steve, on his knees letting Bowie off the leash, looks up at Eddie with suspicion. "What have you done now?"

"I'm wounded, Steven. Wounded! Why do you accuse me of some unknown crime before you even give me a kiss?"

Steve grabs Eddie by the collar of his Christmas sweater and pulls him in for a kiss, smiling so hard it can hardly be called that. "Because you get extra loud and dramatic when you're trying to hide something. So what have you been doing?"

"A special Christmas surprise, honey." Mrs. Henderson speaks up, making Steve whip his head around to face her.

"Claudia?" And then his eyes land on the other guests gathered in their kitchen. "Dustin? Robin? What...why? How? I thought you had to spend Christmas with your parents, Robs?"

"That was all Eddie. He arranged for all of us to come here and spend the evening with you. I have to leave later to drive over to my parents, but not for another four hours or so."

After hearing Robin's words, Steve slowly turns back to Eddie, and this time the tears in his eyes are from happiness, not heartbreak.

"Eddie," is all he says before he slams into him, his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his face nestled in his favorite spot just above Eddie's collarbone. "I love you." Steve whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too, Stevie," Eddie whispers back, right into Steve's ear, the words meant just for him.

After that, they all gather around the improvised dining table Wayne had set up. It is a simple construction with another table the same height as their kitchen table, so they could push them together and decorate them with a large tablecloth to make it look like one. They eat the roast Steve had prepared, everyone praising his cooking skills, making him blush and his eyes glow with pride.

For dessert they have pecan pie, much to Steve's delight. "Eddie insisted it had to be pecan," Wayne reveals, earning Eddie a wet kiss on the cheek from Steve.

"You're spoiling me, Eds."

"It's not spoiling when you deserve it. Besides, the pie is for everyone, it just happens to be your favorite." Eddie deflects, suddenly self-conscious. Maybe he'd overdone it, just a little, in his quest for the perfect night. But what is it they say? In for a penny and all that. "I might have something just for you, though."

Before Steve has a chance to say anything to that, Eddie is already up from the table to get the ice cream from the kitchen. By the time he comes out with it, everyone has stuffed themselves with the pie, leaving none for Eddie. Putting the ice cream in front of Steve, he complains loudly about it. "That's how you thank me, I see. Scoundrels, all of you."

A plate with a large slice of pie is placed in front of him. "I saved you a slice, baby."

Eddie presses both hands to his heart and pretends to melt. "Aw, you do love me."

Instead of answering, Steve just kisses him before looking down at the bowl in front of him. "What's that?"

"Banana ice cream with toffee and caramel beans, topped with whipped cream and chocolate sauce."

Steve plunges the spoon into the creation and takes a big bite, letting out a moan that's downright pornographic. "Oh God, please marry me."

Across from them, Wayne nearly chokes on his coffee at Steve's words, and Eddie gives him a warning glare. Wayne is the only one in on Eddie's plan, which Eddie begins to regret. But he needed someone to organize some things, especially the custom-made rings.

After dinner, everyone gathers around the tree, including Garfield and Bowie. Garfield is sitting on Claudia's lap, having taken an instant liking to her, while Bowie is sleeping at Wayne's feet. As usual when their little family gets together, the gift exchange is a cheerful and chaotic affair. Eddie gets new guitar strings from Robin, a new set of custom-made Dnd dice from Dustin and Claudia, and Garfield slippers from Wayne, as well as a can of motor oil with the promise to change Eddie's oil together next weekend. Steve's gift, however, was the most treasured: two tickets to a Metallica concert right here in Chicago.

Throughout the night, Wayne had been taking pictures of everything, claiming that they would be glad to have some memories later on. So when all of the presents have been handed out, he leads Steve and Eddie over to the tree for a picture.

"We need Garfield and Bowie here, too, if it's a family photo," Steve exclaims, his cheeks rosy from equal parts eggnog and joy. "Come here, Bowie. Good boy." Bowie, who is just as much of a sucker for Steve as Eddie is, promptly follows. Eddie knows that Garfield would not be so easily persuaded, so he walks over to Claudia, plucks him from her lap, and places him at Steve's feet.

What Steve doesn't know is that this is all part of Eddie's plan. The two pose in front of the tree with Bowie between them and Garfield weaving between Steve's legs. Just as Wayne's about to take the picture, Eddie turns to Steve and, seemingly outta nowhere, grabs a Santa's hat and puts it on Steve's head. "There you go, now you look all dressed up for the occasion."

"How...where did you hide that?"

"Pulled it out of my ass. You better check to see if I have any more Christmas stuff stashed there later, big boy."

Eddie can't know it yet, but he hopes Wayne captured the exact moment Steve's face scrunched up in surprised laughter. But even if he hadn't, Eddie hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from it anyway, as he memorized every single detail of that very moment.

As his laughter subsides, Steve opens his eyes again to look over at Eddie, only to find him kneeling with his hand outstretched and something small on his palm. A simple golden ring.

"Oh my God."

More than one gasp of surprise could be heard from those around, but the only person whose reaction matters to Eddie is Steve. Who looks at Eddie with big, shining eyes and an open mouth, completely taken by surprise.

"Steve, I have rehearsed this a million times and I still do not have the words to tell you what you mean to me. What our life together means to me. I love you so much it scares me, because surely people aren't supposed to feel that much, but I do. And I want to be scared every single day for the rest of my life because it means I get to love you. I get to cherish you and laugh with you and take care of our furry kids together, and Steve, sweetheart, I want to marry you and promise you forever. And I can't wait for nothing to change, because the life we have is already perfect. And if that didn't make any sense to you, I'm really sorry. The most important thing is that I love you. So, Steve Harrington, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Steve has tears streaming down his cheeks, but he’s smiling. In fact, he’s smiling so big it has to hurt, and when he kisses him, all Eddie can taste is happiness and love. After that, Steve peppers his whole face with kisses, each one pressing another "Yes" into his skin.

Their love story might not have begun like a perfect fairy tale, and Eddie had no idea if it would end like one. But the middle? It was pretty damn perfect, if you asked him.

#steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #my writing #for the record: here it already is the 25th so this entry is for the 25th day prompt of steddiemas

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oidheadh-con-culainn · 7 months ago

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hello and welcome to the niche corner

hello i'm néide and this is my blog, which mostly consists of me being grumpy about niche things. i have multiple degrees in medieval irish literature and while sometimes i use these to be vaguely educational, more often i use them to write incredibly specific fic about characters nobody else cares about, and this fic can be found on ao3 (for logged-in users)

so this is a guide to my incredibly specific fanfiction, which i feel also gives a reasonably good introduction to the kind of thing i'm likely to be yelling about on this blog

i am reliably informed that you don't actually need to know anything about the source material to have fun with these fics (or suffer from the angst), but also they can be more fun if you do. some have bibliographies/refs/explanations so i also know a few people have used them as a way to get started with medieval Irish lit which will never not be extremely funny to me

current WIP: chasing someone else's dream (16k, WIP): a cú chulainn/láeg reincarnation fic. they have been reincarnated, not for the first time. they've also been cursed, and thus, unlike in every life before this one, they've never met. ngl this fic contains some of the best prose i ever wrote, please read it

group chats of the ulster cycle, or, the in loco parentis series

a modern AU of the ulster cycle. sort of a college AU, turned into a ballet AU halfway through. consists of:

in loco parentis (135k, complete): my magnum opus. cú chulainn and láeg are university flatmates; group chats featuring all your favourite ulster cycle characters and also some you probably never gave a shit about; cú chulainn as a tiny trans ballet dancer and ferdia as his pas de deux partner; baking; everybody hating on conchobar; nobody dies; way more feelings about both ballet and shostakovich than anybody was expecting, including me; and much more. comes with explanatory notes / bibliography because i'm just Like That

getting the dee (9k, in progress/abandoned): a prequel to ILP, sort of a longes mac nuislenn fic except nobody dies and there are more sex toys. naoise/deirdre with guest appearances from conall. one day i'll go back to this but also i'm a coward

valentáin's day (4k oneshot, complete): a prequel to ILP, featuring láeg and cormac in the pub on valentine's day making fun of all their friends in relationships. they make out, fortunately their friendship survives the experience.

and when you move, i move (2.5k oneshot, complete): a sequel to ILP. just a horny lil cú chulainn/ferdia oneshot set a few months after ILP wraps up.

miscellaneous ulster cycle oneshots

i will be honest, most of these are sad fics of oidheadh con culainn ("the death of cú chulainn") because i just love writing angst, but there's a couple of others in there

a moment's silence (3k): smutty cú/láeg fic set during táin bó cúailnge, inspired by this picture. the most explicit fic i've written

to walk this world alone (6k): extremely niche fic featuring láeg after cú chulainn's death. some otherworldly happenings. sad but not as sad as it was originally going to be.

counterweight (3k): cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. this one's pretty sad too.

dindsenchas (3.5k): missing scenes between cú chulainn and láeg during táin bó cúailnge. narrated by the landscape of ulster and addressed in second person to cú chulainn himself because the best sex scenes are the ones narrated by a tree.

in one dwelling place (2k): láeg/cú chulainn/emer. vaguely smutty, vaguely fluffy.

we'll say goodbye, today (2k): cú chulainn and láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. big sad hours.

glorious as the sunrise (3k): this is just angst. cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn again. not particularly shippy but they love each other very much.

a marriage of inconvenience (3k): modern AU. cú chulainn wants to marry emer but unfortunately never bothered to get divorced after he married láeg for househunting purposes. a very silly fic.

of grief and glory (1.7k): cú chulainn deals with the aftermath of táin bó cúailnge, especially fer diad's death. more sad times lol.

flight risk (2.3k): teenage cú chulainn and láeg steal a spaceship. they get caught. fun scifi AU.

other medieval lit fics (non ulster cycle)

patron saint of toasties (2.5k): finn cycle fic. oisín took time out of uni to travel and now all his friends have graduated and he's lonely enough to text the christian union's "text a toastie" hotline. which is how he meets patrick. very silly modern AU gen fic mostly taking the piss out of st patrick

two birds of a feather (2.8k): yonec (marie de france) | togail bruidne da derga crossover fic. bird dad support group. conaire and yonec hang out and bond over their dads having maybe been birds. stupidest thing i ever wrote and i adore it.

quiver and shake (1.8k): fourth branch of the mabinogi fic. gwydion and gilfaethwy's special brotherly bonding time. canon typical content warnings apply.

other

absent thee from felicity (11k, WIP): hamlet | romeo & juliet crossover modern AU in which horatio and benvolio attempt to deal with the aftermath of their respective tragedies. sad at first, will gradually get sillier. haven't updated in a couple of years but that doesn't mean it's permanently abandoned, i'm just busy

a guild doctor and an abolitionist walk into a bar (5.5k, complete): mortimer sark/daragh vernant (the butterfly assassin by finn longman). in which they become friends while coparenting their fucked up assassin child and pretending they're not doing that. blatant pro-mortimer propaganda tbh and i'm not sorry

if you've never read any of my fics before and are wondering where to start, i firmly believe the reincarnation fic (current WIP) is a good one because it has a solid mix of angst, shenanigans, and weird fuckery, so you can experience the tonal whiplash of the rest of my fics all in one place! but it is a WIP and i make zero promises about upload schedule, it happens when it happens, so not so good if you're impatient haha. plenty of others to get you started though

#my fic #medieval irish #ulster cycle

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madaqueue · 8 months ago

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Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 2

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). fluff, with a whisper of angst. language, nudity. 18+, MDNI.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i am tormented writing this, i wake up in the middle of the night with ideas but this is fr just exposition don't you worry, we're getting there i promise

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

The next week goes by in a blur. You and Yuji don’t run into each other, which is pretty typical, and you try your best to act like you weren’t completely shocked at how he kissed you the last time you saw each other whenever you’re texting him.

During a break between classes on Thursday, you head back to your dorm to relax for a bit and get some lunch. As soon as you close your door, your phone lights up with an incoming video call from Yuji. You answer it and see his face suddenly take over your screen.

“Hey there! Sorry to call you suddenly, but I have another favor to ask you,” he says with a cheeky smile. “You remember that girl I told you about last week? Well, she and I are kind of supposed to hang out and I wanted to practice the whole date thing with you,” he pauses, expectantly.

“Sure,” you sigh with a small smile forming on your lips, “when are you supposed to see her?” “That’s sort of the thing…” Yuji hesitates, breaking eye contact with the screen for a moment before turning back, “we’re supposed to hang out tomorrow so I would kind of need you to come over tonight.” “Tonight?” your eyes widen. “Yuji, I have class, and assignments, and-”

He cuts you off. “I know, I know, but I promise I’ll make it up to you! Look, come over to my place tonight at 6:00, pretty please?” he pleads, batting his eyelashes at the camera.

You concede, “Fine, but you owe me one.” Yuji cheers and thanks you profusely.

You hang up the phone and walk towards your bed, laying down on your back with your feet dangling off the end. You still don’t know what to make of the sudden change in your dynamic - I mean, you guys haven’t hung out one-on-one for months and now suddenly you’re making out like it’s no big deal? And what’s with this girl he went from not being sure he even had feelings for to suddenly going out with her tomorrow? Is he going to kiss her like he kissed you? You feel a pang in your stomach.

Are you…jealous? No, no way, you’re just hungry because you still haven’t had lunch. You push the thoughts aside as you get up to grab some leftovers from the mini fridge in your room and try to keep it out of your mind until tonight.

–

By the time you get to Yuji’s, the sun has set and the streetlights are starting to turn on as you walk across campus. When you arrive you knock on his door and he opens it, his eyes immediately scanning your body as he takes you in. You’re wearing an off-white bodycon dress you found in the back of your closet with a black jacket to help keep you warm on your way over, an outfit that’s fairly atypical for you since you don’t often have a reason to dress up like this.

“Wow,” Yuji says with a smile, eyes still glancing over you, “you look…really nice.”

“Thanks,” you shrug. “I figured this should be as immersive as possible so you can actually use it as practice for your date tomorrow rather than us just hanging out like always.”

He nods in agreement and moves to let you step into his room. Inside, you notice candles lighting the space rather than the LED lights like last time, and it makes everything feel much cozier.

“It looks nice but isn’t this a huge fire hazard?” you tease, slipping your jacket off and hanging it on one of the hooks behind his door.

“Dunno, just wanted it to be nice for you,” he says nonchalantly as he moves toward the center of the room. There’s a fold-out table that was almost definitely used for beer pong at some point with two chairs you’re pretty sure were stolen from his dorm’s study room on either side of it. He pulls out one of the chairs for you and you sit down in front of an empty paper plate and red Solo cup.

“How classy,” you smirk at the setup.

“Hey, it’s the best I could do on short notice - besides, it’s not like she’s coming here tomorrow anyways,” he argues, crossing his arms. You notice him trying to hide a grin before he moves to sit across from you at the table. “Anyways, thank you for coming tonight.” He smiles genuinely at you. “Before we begin our meal, could I offer you some of our finest wine selection?” he asks while pulling out the cheapest-looking box of red wine from behind his chair.

You laugh at his question. “Seriously? How did you even get that in here? Isn’t alcohol banned in the dorms?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweets,” he says with a wink. In reality, Yuji had worried about it, a lot. He had to ask his friend Toge to help him smuggle it in, pretending it was a new gaming system they were going to play, making sure to give the security guard posted outside the dorm a good show of how excited they were about it. But, now that was all said and done, and Yuji was just glad his efforts paid off and he got to share it with you.

He leans forward across the table, propping his elbows on either side of your plate to steady himself, and begins pouring wine out of the box into your cup. He looks down to make sure he doesn’t spill any, when suddenly the table gives out under the weight of him resting his arms on it. The nearly-full cup tumbles toward you and covers your dress in dark red.

“Shit, Yuji!” you scream reflexively as you stand up. You try to brush the wine off your dress but that seems to only smear it more.

The boy looks up from where he is now laying on the floor on top of the collapsed table, taking in the situation before he immediately springs into action. “Okay, you take your dress off, I’m gonna go grab some laundry detergent, and we’re going to fix this - I-I mean, I’m going to fix this,” he states, trying to reassure himself as much as you.

He uses his hands to push himself up off the ground and steps over to his closet, quickly grabbing one of his oversized t-shirts and tossing it at you before running out of the room. You stare at the black shirt in your hands, still trying to process the scene that unfolded but realizing you do still need to change. You begin to unzip your dress and the second it hits the floor, Yuji runs back into the room.

“I found the detergent!” he proclaims, excitedly holding the bottle above his head before he realizes what he just walked in on. He freezes, eyes glancing quickly all over your body just like he did when you first arrived, but this time with the notable absence of your dress. His eyes pause over your matching black bra and panties before he looks back to your face, watching your cheeks suddenly turn red from embarrassment. You aren’t even sure why you’re blushing since Yuji has seen you change more times than you can count, but just like when you were sitting on his lap last week, this time feels different.

You both stare at each other before he lets out a nervous chuckle that breaks the silence. “You, uh, you want me to wash that dress or not?” You look down to the crumpled dress at your feet and instinctively toss it to him without a word. “Sweet, I’ll get this in the wash and be back in a second,” he says before promptly turning and leaving.

As you look down at your hands, you notice they’re shaking. What is wrong with me? You think. It’s just Yuji. Shaking the thought away, you slide the t-shirt over your head and it nearly reaches to your mid-thighs. You let out a sigh, thankful to finally feel a bit more covered.

Yuji pops his head back into the room. “Are you decent?” he teases before swinging the door open without waiting for an answer.

You feel a bit better now that you’re clothed again, finding some energy to joke back with him. “What a romantic dinner, Yu,” you say with a chuckle, your voice still a bit more shaky than you would have liked.

“Hey, it was still good practice! What if there’s a horrible wine emergency on our date tomorrow and I have to think fast,” he laughs. “Besides, we can still finish this date. You haven’t even seen the main course yet!”

He reaches under his bed and pulls out a familiar bag, holding it up with a toothy grin. “Taco Bell? Seriously?” you groan and flop back on his bed.

“Don’t blame me, you’re the one who said you didn’t want to eat my delicious cooking,” he jokes. “Besides, it’s the only place where I still have your order memorized, and I wanted to make sure I got you something you’d like,” he hums.

You shift your eyes down from the ceiling onto his, and it’s almost like you can see his gaze soften as you look at him. Yuji was truly nothing if not genuine; it was clear that he really did care about getting you something you’d like, and he wanted to show you that he still knows things about you, even if they’re as simple as your fast-food order. You felt the air in the room shift, and while you couldn’t read Yuji’s mind, after knowing each other for that long you could make a pretty good guess: he needed this. You could almost sense his subtle desperation for your approval as he walks towards you, and without thinking, you say, “It’s perfect Yuji, I love it,” with a smile forming on your lips.

He lights up at your words and leaps forward onto the bed, landing next to you on his stomach before turning to face you. “I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured this ‘date’ going, but I’d still like it to be special. Besides, it’s late, and you can’t exactly walk back to your dorm in my t-shirt, so why don’t we make tonight fun, just the two of us? Like we used to?” he pauses, waiting for your answer.

His eyes lock onto yours and again, without thinking, you turn towards him and throw an arm around his shoulder. Glancing at the clock behind him, it illuminates the time: 6:43. It was absolutely not late and you could easily borrow some of his sweatpants to walk back to your dorm, but instead of saying that, your mouth moves before your mind can catch up. “Like we used to,” you say through a soft grin.

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hockeynoses · 8 months ago

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Sick!Steve: A College AU, Part 2

Summary: A sequel to this fic. Steve is sick again. This time he's in class with Eddie, but they don't know each other yet. Eddie has the fetish and it's from his POV. This is set in the Spring semester, following the last fic which was in the Fall.

Warnings: Mess, contagion. 3.2k words.

Notes: I finally finished it! I started this last July and let it sit for far too long. It's one of my favorites that I've written in a while.

I imagine the professor to look like Jaime Cam/il from Schm/igadoon, but that's neither here nor there. The snippets of his lecture are directly taken from the Wikipedia entry on the Renaissance.

One tiny scene was inspired by this post by gemsden.

I hope you all enjoy! 💖

~*~

At five minutes to the hour, Eddie strolls into class as though he has all the time in the world. He’s learned from years of being punctually challenged that it’s easier to fly under the radar if you don’t appear rushed and frazzled when you make your entrance. There are only a few seats left in the large lecture hall, and they’re all up at the front. Reluctantly, he chooses one on the very end of the curved row, the seats in the hall forming a semi-circle that fan out like those ancient Greek theaters the professor had mentioned last week.

World History 101 – the most basic of basic history classes. Almost everyone here, Eddie included, is taking it as a required core class. But it isn’t the worst thing in the world; Eddie makes a game of it, searching for little tidbits he can add to his D&D games when he’s in need of inspiration.

The eye-candy isn’t half bad either. The professor, Mr. Smith, is actually pretty hot. Dark hair, a well-trimmed beard, glasses… Eddie can get on board. And halfway through his lecture, without fail, he’d take off his suit-jacket, loosen his tie, and roll up his sleeves, drawing the undivided attention of half the class. Aged to perfection, he can’t be more than in his early 40s, his hair just starting to get that salt and pepper color to it.

Unfortunately, he’s also known for being kind of a hardass. One of those guys with lots of chili peppers on RateMyProfessor, tempered by lots of comments about what a stickler he is for the rules.

The doors at the top of the hall open just as the professor is about to get started, and Eddie looks up.

Speaking of eye-candy, he thinks. It’s the guy that he’s had his eye on for half the semester. Hot-prof doesn’t hold a candle to this guy. Steve. The name floats through his mind and his heart gives a little kick.

He hasn’t managed to talk to him yet, or even figure out how to covertly snag a seat near him. This class is pretty much just lectures and tests, no group projects – which doesn’t offer a lot of openings for an introduction. Eddie only knows his first name because he’d heard Mr. Smith use it once or twice. He may be an asshole about the rules, but he does try to learn their names. As much as one can with a class of 100+ students.

Steve hurries down the steps to the first row of seats. The only open desk is in the dead center, about 10 feet away from Mr. Smith’s podium.

“Shit,” Steve says under his breath, looking embarrassed. Eddie’s glad he’s not in his shoes. Even though he’s in the front row himself, he’s somewhat hidden off to the side. The curvature of the row gives him a great view of Steve without it being obvious he’s looking at him.

The professor greets Steve with a firm nod as Steve sits and pulls his notebook out of his backpack, settling in. Eddie sees his nose scrunch up in a sniff. Probably just from the run over here to make it on time.

“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Smith pulls up a PowerPoint on the screen behind him, “Today’s lesson is going to cover the Renaissance, which is a period in time ranging from the 1400s to the 1600s. The Renaissance was a cultural movement that profoundly affected European intellectual life in the early modern period.”

A sound crackles through the air, and Eddie’s eyes snap back to Steve. He’s got his face buried in a tissue, eyes closed, blowing his nose for all he’s worth. Heat sparks to life low in Eddie’s belly. Oh god…is he-?

Mr. Smith shoots Steve a look over his glasses, waiting for him to finish. Steve sighs and swipes at his nose, managing to find a dry section of the ruined tissue. When he notices the professor’s gaze, he looks sheepish and whispers, “Sorry.”

Steve hides the crumpled tissue away in a pocket of his backpack and then pulls out a fresh one from – Is that a fucking car pack of Kleenex? Eddie wonders. Leave it to pretty-boy Steve to go out and buy the perfect size tissue box to fit in his backpack. Eddie would’ve just brought a roll of toilet paper.

With a nose that beautiful, he deserves the best, he can’t stop himself from thinking. Then he chastises himself for being so gone on this guy. He focuses back on his own notes, or rather, the doodle he’s already started, and tries not to be too much of a creep.

Mr. Smith drones on for several minutes, punctuated every so often by Steve’s wet sniffles. Eddie can see him rubbing the bridge of his nose out of the corner of his eye. He wonders if the whole class can hear him – auditoriums are designed to carry sound, after all – or if Eddie’s just hyper-aware.

The sniffles turn ominous, and Steve reaches for a tissue just as his breath starts to hitch. He holds it at the ready, splayed over both hands, inches from his face.

“Ha... ehh…hih…hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” The sneeze bursts from him as he snaps forward and buries his face in the waiting tissue. The sound ricochets throughout the room and lightning pulses through Eddie’s veins, white-hot. Oh fuck.

“’Scuse be,” Steve mumbles, his eyes glazed over as he snuffles up the loosened congestion.

Jesus, he’s actually really sick, Eddie thinks, his own elation at the sight at war with the pity he feels for the guy.

Mr. Smith gives a small, put-upon sigh. “Where was I? Oh yes - The unique political structures of Italy during the Late Middle Ages have led some to theorize that its unusual social climate allowed the emergence of a rare cultural efflorescence.”

Now that Eddie knows for sure that Steve is sick, it’s a struggle to keep his eyes off him. He doesn’t want to miss a moment; his gaze darts across the room without his permission, tracking every movement of those busy hands, the fluttering eyes, the flaring nostrils.

As the minutes tick by, anticipation curls warm through Eddie’s gut. Steve is holding a Kleenex in his hand, wiping his nose with it as subtly as he can, forced to breathe through his mouth due to the congestion that has taken up permanent residence deep in his sinuses.

Eddie wonders how long he’s been sick. If these are brand new symptoms or if he’s been suffering for the better part of a week. He looks contagious as hell, red nose constantly dripping into the tissue that he presses to his septum. Eddie feels for the students who were unlucky enough to sit next to him, but he would also happily take their place.

His thoughts are interrupted by a hitch in Steve’s breath, no doubt building to something more obscene and uncontrolled than the first go-round.

“Ehh… Oh god, haa-… hih-EETSSHHOO! Ha’AEESHHah! Uhh…huh…ITTSCHHuh!” He groans, low and pained. “Oh bmy god. SNF. Sorry.” Eddie watches as Steve holds the destroyed tissue to his nose while fumbling in his bag for a fresh one. There’s no way that abused tissue contained all those haphazard sneezes. If the students next to him have to sit through an entire hour of that, they’re definitely screwed. Hell, Mr. Smith is probably screwed too, being directly in front of him, albeit several feet away.

“Are you quite finished?” Mr. Smith says primly.

“Ugh.” Steve gives a liquid sniffle and swipes under his nose with his bare hand. “I hobe so.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie is going to pop a semi in the middle of class. He slides his jacket off - it’s getting fucking hot in here anyway - and sets it over his lap.

The professor clears his throat and continues. “As I was saying, one theory is that the devastation in Florence caused by the Black Death, which hit Europe between 1348 and 1350, resulted in a shift in the world view of people in 14th century Italy.”

“Ha….HA’EHSSHHOO!” Steve’s whole body shakes with the strength of the sneeze, drenching his fistful of Kleenex. Oblivious to the teacher’s glare, Steve’s eyes flutter, his brows inching higher and higher with each sharp inhale, fighting against the prickling itch deep in his nose that’s begging for release.

“Italy was particularly badly hit by the plague,” Mr. Smith continues, pausing to direct a stern, pointed look at Steve. “And it has been speculated that the resulting familiarity with death caused thinkers to dwell more on their lives on Earth, rather than on spirituality and the afterlife.”

“Huh-ITTSSH’IEW!” The relentless barrage continues, Steve struggling helplessly against it. “uh…huh’GGKSSHH’IUE!”

Eddie stares, entranced. He can hear how wet they are, thick with mess that’s barely contained in the clump of increasingly soggy tissues Steve’s got a death grip on. Eddie gets another glimpse of Steve’s disobedient nose - pink, wet, and sore - as he pulls back from the tissues with a wobbly inhale, clearly not done. A flush darts up Eddie’s neck, his toes curling in his sneakers.

“It has also been argued that the Black Death prompted a new wave of piety, manifested in the sponsorship of religious works of art.” Mr. Smith soldiers on, agitation clear in his voice. “However, this does not fully explain why the Renaissance occurred specifically in Italy in the 14th centu-”

“Ahh…ihh…hih…HIH’EERRRSHH’IUE!” The last one tears through Steve in the middle of an attempt to grab a new batch of tissues. He curls into himself, unleashing the spraying sneeze across his lap and part of his desk. There’s a visible sheen on his cupid’s bow that he desperately swipes at with the back of his hand.

“Steve!” Mr. Smith says sharply. “I do not appreciate these interruptions!”

“I’b sigk, dude!” Steve argues, as if that isn’t obvious by the gurgling, cold-ridden noseblow that immediately follows. His features are a tired mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Please don’t call me dude, Steve.” Mr. Smith pins him with a flat look, clearly exasperated but unwilling to kick him out just yet. Steve glares at him.

“I’b sigk, professor – hih…ha’AESSHH’IEW!” The sneeze erupts from Steve, forceful and clearing. He puts much less effort into covering this one, holding the tissue inches away from his face and releasing a huge, spraying sneeze openly down onto it. Eddie can see the escaped stray droplets misting the air.

This motherfucker better not make me come in my pants, I swear to god, Eddie thinks as he adjusts himself, trying to find some kind of relief. He feels too hot in his own skin.

The students nearest Steve are leaning away from him in mounting horror, trapped without any open seats to flee to.

“If you’re feeling so poorly, why did you come to class today?” Mr. Smith radiates disapproval.

“Idt’s your attendance policy, bman.” Steve scrubs a finger back and forth under his raw nose. “I didn’t thigk it wa-aah…hah–Ha’ERRSHH’IUE!” The sneeze is only half-muffled against his fist, the rest scatters free into the air. “Ugh. Allowed.”

Mr. Smith’s mouth pulls into a frown. “Exceptions can be granted when there are legitimate… health reasons.” He eyes the growing pile of tissues on Steve’s desk with disgust, calculating the odds of how likely he is to catch his cold, no doubt increasing with every one of Steve’s careless, pathetic attempts at covering, with every slimy tissue added to the pile, cluttering up the desk, creating a foreboding minefield of germs.

Steve snorts up the clogged mess in his nose and clears his throat. He’s so congested that even his throat sounds thick with it. Pulling a tissue from his pack, he lays it across his cupped palms, ready, waiting.

“I didn’t thigk this would count. Idt’s just – heh – just a c-cold – Ha’GGSHT’CHUH!” His head snaps forward as he unleashes the sneeze vaguely downwards toward the tissue spread across his hands. Eddie can see the unrestrained spray of it swirling around in the several inches of open air between his agitated, rebellious nose and his hands.

He folds the splattered tissue up to release a crackling blow, so loud that Eddie thinks he must be doing it on purpose. When he’s done, Steve offers a pointed, “’Scuse mbe,” with a telling twist to his lips. Now apparently fully committed to his appearance as a plague rat, he breathes through his mouth, dabbing at his sore, chapped nose with the tattered remnants of the tissue. When he pulls it away, he has no shame – his red, glistening, contagious nose is on full display.

Oh, Eddie likes this one. A buzzy warmth fills him down to his toes, and he has to stop himself from shivering with it. His cock is rock-hard in his jeans. Has anyone ever died of blue balls? he wonders, shifting in his seat.

Rather than hiding it away in his backpack, Steve adds the sodden tissue to the pile on his desk like a challenge, trying to get a rise out of Mr. Smith. The brazen audacity of it is doing nothing to help the heat under Eddie’s skin.

“If you’re ill to the point of being a distraction in class, you should have emailed me, and I would have given my approval,” Mr. Smith says in a tense, clipped voice.

“I didn’t thigk I felt that ba-hah… bad – hih - odn the way over h-here,” he argues, quickly scrambling for a fresh tissue, “but I – huh… I cadn’t stob – ihh… s-sneeziihh… Ha-iih’ERRSSHH’IUE!” His brow furrows with the strength of it, shoulders curling in. He’s crumpled the tissue under his nose, anticipating the sheer amount of mess, which unfortunately leaves his mouth uncovered. The sneeze forces the breath from him in a violent gust that causes the used tissues on his desk to flutter and threaten to topple over the edge.

Eddie’s pulse jumps and he almost snaps his pencil in half, tapping his foot on the ground in an effort to not shake out of his skin with want. He tries not to openly stare as Steve pulls back the Kleenex from his face, having to pinch off the mess that still clings to him, wiping the spit from his lips with his other hand.

“Ugh, what a bmess.” Steve says, really playing it up. “Sorry. I’b trying to stob but they’re too strogg.”

“I can see that,” Mr. Smith grinds the words out between his teeth.

“I thigk I’b really contagious.” Steve presses the tissue to the underside of his tender, dripping nose. “I already godt all of mby roobmates sihh-sigk. Heh…Huh-HA’IIGGGHHH’SHOO! Ughhh. Trust mbe, you don’t want this…” He punctuates his warning with a truly miserable-sounding noseblow.

“I agree. We don’t need you getting the whole class sick.” Mr. Smith takes a few careful steps back, looking like he’d rather be running from the room entirely. “You can get the notes from one of your classmates.”

“Are you s-sure?” His nostrils flair and he cups a hand several inches from his face in a sluggish attempt to cover another impending outburst. “ihh – hih’iiiiGGHH’shue!” It scrapes from his throat, the last syllable drawn out into a pained exhale.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Smith says. Having reached the end of his rope, he points to the door. “Go. Before you infect us all with your pestilence.”

Satisfied, Steve gathers his things, touching them all with his germy hands in the process. The used tissues are scooped up and crammed into an open pocket in his backpack. The car-pack of tissues stays out. Clinging to it like a lifeline, Steve pulls two fresh ones from the cylinder.

“Thaggs, professor.” He quickly bunches the tissues to his face, his chest heaving with every hitch of his breath. “ahh… hiiiih… Hih’AAIIGH’shoo! SNF. I’ll see you next weegk.”

With that, he turns and makes his way up the stairs, pausing every few steps to shudder with a wrenching sneeze, barely contained in his damp fistful of Kleenex. Now that he’s not even trying to control them, it seems he’s completely at their mercy, pitching forward in several small fits, trying to cover as much ground as he can between them until he finally makes it to the door. Fumbling the clump of tissues into his pocket, he pulls at the door handle, finally making his escape into the hallway as an awkward hush settles over the rest of the class.

Mr. Smith attempts a joke and tries to refocus everyone’s attention. Eddie doesn’t hear any of it. His head feels all floaty and he’s trying not to come in his pants. That was insane. He blinks, trying to shake himself out of it.

By the time he’s managed to bring himself back to reality, Mr. Smith is making a show of marking off Steve’s excused absence. “Steve Harrington,” he announces as he notes it down, enunciating clearly as if to let the entire class know who’s to blame when half of them come down with this cold from hell.

Harrington. Something clicks in Eddie’s mind at that. Chrissy’s knowing smile flashes through the haze. A months-old memory washes over him in waves – she was telling him about some guy she made friends with in class… going on and on about him. About how one time he’d shown up for class sick as a dog, and how she wished Eddie could have been there - he’s just his type. She had wanted to introduce them.

At the time, Eddie’s interest had been piqued, how could it not? But this guy sounded like a Grade-A jock, and although he trusted Chrissy, Eddie dating a jock went against practically every facet of the Munson Doctrine. He had filed it directly under “Never Gonna Happen” in his brain, and they’d both forgotten about it, buried in finals, before heading off for winter break.

Since then, Chrissy might’ve mentioned her and Steve meeting up for coffee once or twice since they didn’t have a class together this semester, but her hopes of introducing them got lost in the throes of a busy Spring semester. If Eddie had known this was Chrissy’s Steve – a bit of a jock, sure, but still sweet and smart and with sneezes straight out of Eddie’s wildest fantasies – he sure as fuck would’ve made that introduction more of a priority.

Fuck. Now Eddie has to see if there’s still a shot. If Chrissy was going to introduce them, that means there’s a slim chance Steve might be into him, right? He’s going to text her as soon as class gets out and tell her he’s seen the light.

Eddie wonders if he could give Steve his notes from class. Didn’t the professor say something about that? Yeah, he’ll get his number from Chrissy, then bring him the notes… maybe some tea…

Shit, he’s got to get ahold of himself.

For once in his life, Eddie tries to take flawless notes. He’s only partially successful. It’s almost impossible to focus with replays of Steve’s little spectacle parading through his head. And if that wasn’t distracting enough, he can’t stop himself from imagining scenes from their future together like some kind of lovesick fool. He taps his pencil to the page, daring to hope.

He’ll start with notes and some tea.

#snzblr #snz fic #snzfic #snz fics #snzfics #cw: contagion #st/eve ha/rrington

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arlertdarling · 1 year ago

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❥ STARS IN YOUR EYES — armin arlert x gn!reader, modern au, fluff, established relationship, space nerd!armin, yet another incredibly self-indulgent, incredibly fluffy armin oneshot<3 (i don't actually know a lot about astronomy so sorry if i got anything wrong!)

“That’s Orion’s belt,” Armin says, tracing his fingertip along a short line of stars. “Those three stars there, see? And that kind of arced line is his shield. A little higher up there, that’s his sword.” He pauses, hand lowering as he searches the sky. “Canis Minor should also be… ah, yeah, look, Canis Minor, just there. It’s only two stars so it’s hard to spot. Canis Major is easier to recognise. I think it’s just here actually, see?” He connects a few specks of light together — a triangle here, a rectangle there. You raise your hand and try to mimic Armin’s movements. He puts his hand over yours, guiding it and correcting your lines. Then he stops at one of the stars, slightly bigger and easier to see than the others.

“This is Sirius,” he says, “the brightest star in our solar system and the… fifth? Closest to our sun. Around 8.6 light years away.”

“Wow.” You look up at him. “Wait, isn’t that the North Star?”

Armin grins at your interest. “No, that’s Polaris.” He moves your hand. “This one here.”

You think for a moment. “What about the closest star?” you ask. “Which one’s the closest to us?”

He sets your hands down. “Well, not counting the sun, the closest star to us is Proxima Centauri,” he explains before looking at you with a gleaming smile and eyes full of fascination. “Now, you’d think that because it’s the closest, logically it should be the brightest, right?”

“Well… yeah, I think so,” you agree unsurely.

“But it’s not!” He beams. “It’s actually the dimmest,” he says, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and holding it up to the sky, “because it’s so small! Only about a tenth of the sun’s mass.”

“So it’s like a little baby star,” you jest.

Armin laughs through his nose. “I don’t know about ‘little’,” he says. “It’s still so big that its mass has to be written in scientific notation. Or like, in terms of the Earth’s mass, which is also written in scientific notation.”

You smirk. “You know what else is so big that its mass has to be written in scientific notation?”

Armin is about to give a genuine answer but stops himself. “Were you about to make a deeznuts joke? On our romantic stargazing date?” You snicker as he sighs and rubs his hand down his face. “I can’t believe I almost fell for that.” He’s smiling despite himself.

“Boo,” you drawl as you bump shoulders with him. “You’re no fun.” You exchange childish grins before looking back at the sky. As much as you may tease him for being a nerd, Armin’s astronomy knowledge never fails to impress you. It’s endearing too, the way he rambles so eagerly. You could listen to him talk for hours.

“So, where’s the not-so-little baby star then?” you question, scanning the sky. “Can we see it?”

“Oh, no, it’s only really visible in the southern hemisphere,” Armin replies. “Though even then, you need ideal viewing conditions and a telescope with an aperture of at least 8cm to see it.”

You hum. “Guessing we don’t have one of those?”

Armin chuckles. “I think the bigger obstacle is the fact we’re nowhere near the required latitude to even try seeing it.”

“Whatever, nerd.” You giggle and rest your cheek against Armin’s shoulder as he continues talking about the constellations. It’s quiet; the countryside always is, but the nighttime brings with it a different kind of quiet. Crickets chirp and the night breeze rustles the grass and leaves. Above you, the stars are abundant, floating like lily pads in a blue-black pond. You’ve been looking at them for so long that it seems as though they’re dancing, spinning round and round like maple tree seeds in the wind. It’s almost hypnotic, tempting you to fall asleep, but the anticipation for what’s to come is keeping you awake.

Armin checks his phone, the light of his screen illuminating his giddy smile. “Okay. Any minute now,” he says, setting aside his phone. His eyes are gazing at the sky, but your eyes are on him. The darkness makes his features hard to see, but you’ve stared at him so many times before that you’re able to fill in the blanks by memory. The dainty curve of his nose, the soft shade of his lips, the aquamarine light in his irises…

You’re startled from your trance when Armin suddenly gasps. “Look!” he exclaims, pointing up. You follow his hand to a white streak passing through the sky. It vanishes, but not long after, another cuts through nearby. An extraordinary celestial phenomena, and yet you can’t help flicking your eyes over to Armin just to watch his reaction. It’s cheesy, but to you, no celestial phenomena compares to his smile.

You reach over and rake your fingers through his hair. “I love you,” you say absentmindedly.

It takes a second for Armin to give you his attention, too focused on trying to spot a meteor. “What did you say?” he says, turning to you.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and lean in close, brushing some hair out of his face. “I said I love you.”

He catches your hand before it leaves his face and presses a kiss to your wrist. “I love you too,” he whispers, smiling against your palm. You laugh giddily and rub your forehead against his affectionately.

Armin stares at you from under blond eyelashes. “Can I kiss you?” he mutters into the breath of air between you, one hand already hovering near your face.

You move your head the rest of the way into his palm and cup your hand over his. “It’s about time you asked,” you tease, and Armin’s chuckle tickles your lips as you meet. You mould to each other, soft and yearning. It’s a movement that expresses more than either of you could with words alone, pouring your feelings into each other in their rawest form, passing them between warm lips and even warmer breaths; slips of tongue and airy giggles. Armin’s hand is supporting your jaw, fingers tucked behind your ear delicately while yours pulls him closer by his sweater. When you part, for a moment, you just stare at each other; too enthralled to speak.

Armin smiles fondly, his awe melting into adoration. A thumb pets your cheekbone as if to brush away an eyelash, his other hand rubbing your hip. He doesn’t stop staring at you, putting every detail of you like this to memory. The way you’re framed by the starry sky, the meteor that passes over your head like a halo, how his hands fit to you like they were made to hold you. Armin sighs and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbles, his lips ticklish against your skin.

“I should be asking you that,” you argue playfully, stroking his hair. Armin doesn’t say anything; you just stay like that for a while, holding each other as the meteors glide by intermittently.

“It’s a little chilly,” Armin comments after a particularly harsh rush of wind. He runs his hands over the goosebumps on your arms. “You’re not too cold, are you?” He gives you a concerned glance, but before you can answer, he’s taking off his sweater and pulling it over your head. The lingering warmth on the fabric presses against you like a kiss as Armin helps you slide your arms through the sleeves. He gives it a few last tugs and pulls, making sure you’re all covered up.

When his eyes meet yours, he smiles sheepishly. “I know we should probably head inside… but could we stay out a little longer?” He adjusts the sweater again, but more out of nervous habit rather than necessity.

You smile at his sincerity. “Yeah, of course, baby,” you coo. “I don’t mind.”

The pet name makes Armin blush. He pats the space beside him and you shift to spoon his side, draping your limbs over his body. He curls an arm around you, lazily petting your hair. The both of you watch the fleeting strokes of light criss-cross above you, and for just a moment, you forget about the rest of the world; for just a moment, it’s only you, Armin and the stars beneath your fingertips.

#divider by benkeibear #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n #armin arlet fluff #armin fluff #armin x reader #armin x you #armin x y/n #aot fluff #x reader fluff #aot x reader #x reader #{♡} juno writes !!

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lullydoesstuff · 2 months ago

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- TOP DYSTOPIAN BOOKS -

Well, since I want to use this blog for personal stuff too and not just for requests or stuff concerning my MANY Demon Slayer AUs, here we are talking about some of my favourite books ever.

I love dystopian ones so these three will be very hard-core, I love the Hunger Games, I love Maze Runner, I love 1984 but these three just hit different.

Let's not lose time and let's begin!

3 - Tender is the Flesh (Augustina Bazterrica)

I decided to start with a book that has arrived in my country just this year, I didn't know about it before and I'm so glad I red it, even if it really disturbed me... do you know what the Promised Neverland is? Well, take it but make it Supersayan. And this is the less disturbing one here.

Plot: Marcos works in the meat industry, he always did but recently a virus started spreading, and animals couldn't be edible anymore so what does the government do? They start searching for vegan replacements? NO! They legalize cannibalism. Marcos has a troubled life, his father has gone mad since this "transition" from animal meat to human meat and his wife left him after they lost their son. He works in the meat industry but he swears to himself that he's not like the others, because he doesn't eat meat.

I know what you're thinking, "but this is a book to bring people close to veganism, it's the whole point"... no, congratulations, you didn't understand ANYTHING. This book is way more complex, this because it's about the line that divides humanization/objectification, and this will be a recurring theme in this post.

This book is full of gore (what did you expect?), graphic descriptions, violence, sexual violence so I don't know if I recommend this book to everyone, it's very short but be aware of this if you decide to read it. In any case, the plot is very interesting and it's very well written.

2 - The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)

I'm sure many of you have seen the TV series, I've seen it too and it's one of the few cases I say that the series is better than the book, maybe because the series has a more modern setting and so I can actually be terrified by it.

Plot: the world has been almost destroyed by wars and this caused the birth to decrease to 0, and what happens in America? After a coup a new government is instituted... a totalitarian theocracy where religious confessions that aren't Christianity are banned, let's fucking go, this new country's name is Gilead. In this new world women have an only job: being literal baby machines given to rich families to have children.

This is so damn disturbing because, the insemination thing is wild, the man reads a Bible verse from Genesis, and then he just... does it. It's gross, go check for yourselves, human butchering was nothing compared to this.

We follow June, an Handmaid and we just see how things work in this new... amazing... world... I guess.

1 - Unwind (Neal Shusterman)

This deserves the first place, I've never stopped reading a book I loved because it disturbed me too much. I wanted to support the author, he's very good, so I bought all the other books from the Unwind distology... but I finished the first one and never red the second one, please tell me in the comments if it isn't as disturbing as the first one so I can give it a chance or not.

Plot: in the USA a second civil war is fought, but that's not a war where you shoot people from aontoher country to conquer it, or to oppose the government (well... kinda), it's about reproductive rights, many discussions, many things but in the end people decree that you can't abort in any case (*Lully already screaming and tearing off her hair*) BUT you can... well... Unwind your child if you don't want them anymore. But just when he's from 13 to 18.

What does unwind mean? Basically you give your unwanted child to some clinics that literally vivisection them (yes, the person is awake during the process BY LAW) and give thier organs to people that need transplants.

Now you can easily understand why this is the number 1 in this list, it's the destructive combo between "Tender is The Flash" and "the Handmaid's Tale".

We'll follow the story of Risa, Connor and Levi (and this last one oh my God, I wanted to punch his family so bad), escaping their fate of being unwind.

And yes, that scene comes, yes, you will see a vivisection, and yes... you will feel physically sick and need to throw up after, you'll probably have nightmares and life crisis. Also because... the unwind isn't exactly one of the "good guys".

Ah, dear pro-life people that care about a bunch of unborn cells and can't distinguish a human embryo from a dolphin embryo... Read this book, then change your mind about other people's body and take choices just for yours, because it seems we're going back and not aiming foward as we should.

#books #dystopian #unwind #unwind dystology #the handmaid's tale #tender is the flesh #horror #horror books #the hunger games #orwell 1984 #george orwell #susanne collins #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #disturbing books #lets not make this irl

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fireflylitsky · 2 months ago

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Hello I am also down bad for Kisame and Kakuzu and I need to know IMMEDIATELY what pet names you think each of the Aksatsuki members uses. I agree with your Kisame "sweetheart" theory and raise you a Kakuzu "dear". "Honey" if we're feeling bold.

Okay okay okay let's get into this. A small disclosure first: pet names really depend on the setting and the ship (like Hidan would not be calling Kakuzu "baby girl" because Kakuzu would find out a way to kill him for real, but if he had a cute little cinnamon roll gf yeah baby girl is her legal name as far as he's concerned) so these are just general assessments.

Kisame- I will say, Kisame could vary a lot depending on AU. I could totally see a modern AU where he's a big lovable jock tossing "babe" around. Generally speaking, Kisame is a class act, a real gentleman. He's going for classics like "sweetheart" or "hon". Sorry to the "kitten" fans, I just don't see it 🤷‍♀️(unless he's using it to antagonize)

Kakuzu- Him calling you by name is a goddamn miracle in and of itself and should be considered a pet name. If he says your name without anger? Hoo boy, he's into it. If he's dropping any sort of actual pet name? I agree, it's going to be something like "dear". Short and sweet, suits his old man tendencies. You are basically married if he hits you with a dear. I will once again go on record saying this old man is not calling anyone "kitten" lmao (I'm sorry it's just... what is with all the "kitten" I see???)

Itachi- He's not calling you anything in front of other people, sorry. Very formal in front of company. Behind closed doors he will be sweet. Not excessive, but sweet. He's an "angel", "dearest", "my love" kind of guy. I could see a case being made for "darling". He's in deep and awkward about showing it, but he'll drop a pet name every once in a while when it's just the two of you.

Hidan- Make way for the absolute chad of cringey unapologetic pet names. Hidan doesn't give a FUCK he will pretty much use any name under the sun unironically. He's throwing around "baby" and "baby girl" like it's your god given name. Sweetheart? Sure. Kitten? Alright. Is he using them sarcastically or seriously? yes.

Deidara- He's a babe/baby guy idk. I don't have a whole lot to say on him, I just think he prefers things simple and punchy, he's artsy yeah, but not poetic. I don't think he's getting extravagant with his names, but once he starts using them you basically never hear your actual name anymore.

Sasori- Pet names are not his thing. I've seen "doll" thrown around... hm, a bit too on the nose for me, but I get it. I don't think he would like them, personally. Not everyone uses pet names *shrug* Closest he gets is literally “pet” and only because it has a naturally demeaning implication that establishes a hierarchy with him in control lol

#asks #Thanks for the ask!#Sorry it took me roughly a thousand years to answer it #akatsuki #akatsuki headcanons

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steddieunderdogfics · 3 months ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Skepsis_Ree! @skepsiss has 16 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 15 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @skepsiss:

The Last Strange Thing

It's Snowing In Hawkins

Long Road Ahead

House to ourselves

Modern Problems, Modern Solutions

"Bailey's fics are phenomenal and they don't get enough love!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @skepsiss answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

a) Why does anyone latch onto any pairing? Something about Steve and Eddie grabbed my attention like no other ship has in years. I’ve always liked Stranger Things, but I never shipped anything from it until season 4 and until I saw the on-screen dynamic of Steve and Eddie. It felt so fun, and I just constantly saw Steddie art popping up on my dash, so I was looking more and more at it until I just said OKAY, I’M GOING ALL IN and started writing private fan fictions for just one of my friends who encouraged me to post them. b)Why do I still write Steddie? Probably because of my pals Eddy and Jess who talk to me about the lads day in and day out <3

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m really bad at reading fan fics, to be honest, and I don’t actually enjoy reading tropes. The closest thing to a trope I like to read is probably just “they’re in love” or “they will fall in love.” I like good stories, regardless of the setting or the trope.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Does angst count? I pretty much just write angst! I love drama, angst, and exploring miscommunication! Supernatural elements are also super fun, and of course, I love horror, but those things feel more like genre rather than tropes. But I am also a sucker for a happy ending, so you can sort of expect that from me.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

My fav fic is “No Regrets” by @/strangersteddierthings I loved it so much that I made a graphic for it, and Jess uses it as a banner for the fic now!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I try to avoid tropes in my writing, (unless you count drama and angst, lol), so I’m not really sure how to answer this. I’ve never written a classic “there is only one bed” or “coffee shop au” or ANYTHING like that, so maybe I should try and do an actual, classic trope. I don’t think I’ve ever, EVER written a REAL trope before, tbh. I’m actually really curious what people would suggest for me to write, if anyone has a suggestion, I’m all ears!

What is your writing process like?

If I’m looking for a story idea, I usually play the “3-word game” to generate an idea. It works like this: I ask someone to give me 1 word that is a Person (priest, character from a show, sister, etc), a Place (NYC, a house, tombstone, etc), and an Object (pen, houseplant, knife, etc) and then I try and connect those 3 things. That usually helps me generate an idea and develop an interesting story. My other method is… I have wild dreams and wake up with a fully-formed scene in my brain, and I deconstruct that scene in order to find out how I can create a story to get to that point. I also write super fast, so I try and get the idea down on paper asap, or I’ll lose interest and never write it. If I’m writing for a Big Bang or something, I have usually finished writing that fic like… months before I need to post it.

Do you have any writing quirks?

A say “though” a lot, start sentences with “so,” and say “a bit” or “a little bit” in my writing a lot. An example would be “He wasn’t alive though, he didn’t ‘have a life’ to speak of, so this was what exactly?”

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

As soon as I finish!!!! I have a hard time holding back….

Which fic are you most proud of?

That I have posted? Probably “The Last Strange Thing.” It is my longest one. But I have one that I will be posting soon that I am very proud of that I have been working on for a while called “Senior Year” which I’ve been writing on and off since November 2022. I finally buckled down and finished writing it for the Steddie Big Bang and I’ll be posting it this year!

How did you get the idea for The Last Strange Thing?

“The Last Strange Thing” was written for a Reverse Big Bang in collaboration with @/llamalpaca. They created an amazing art piece of Steve and Robin in apocalypse gear, and it got the wheels turning in my brain about an apocalypse AU which reminded me of a conversation I had with a pal about “The Last of Us.” It inspired a whole tale in my brain about Steve and all of the “Stranger Things” party existing in a “The Last of Us” world, so I mashed them together and started writing a story.

When writing The Last Strange Thing, what was something you didn’t expect?

I plan out my stories pretty thoroughly, but something I feel is a very “weak point” in my writing is “action scenes,” so I really surprised myself by even ATTEMPTING to tackle something like “The Last Strange Thing,” which has so much action in it. At first, I sort of assumed I would avoid action as much as possible and make the story about the journey, but as I plotted things out, I just kept making plot points that involved more and more action so when I sat down to write it… I was really surprised that everything flowed together so well and the action felt really natural. Lots of people even complimented my action writing, which felt amazing, cause I’ve always felt it was a weakness!

What inspired It's Snowing In Hawkins?

“It’s Snowing In Hawkins” was a request for a mini-Steddie Winter Exchange where a secret exchanger submitted three requests/tropes/inspirations, and you got to choose from them. One of them involved a snowman-building contest, and Eddie “schooling the younger members of the party.” Another part of the request was that they DID NOT WANT ANY ANGST, so that was a big challenge for me! So it was all fluff, and I thought giving Eddie a slightly ADHD-sideways assignment from “snowman” felt fitting for him. Thus, snow-dome and Steve and Eddie getting some private time in the snow together. That, and at that point, I had never written “virgin Eddie” before, so I thought it would be super cute to explore.

What was your favorite part to write from House to ourselves?

Oh geez, this one is almost PWP, but I think probably just the adult-domestic side of it. Just two dads… getting to be dads. Their young kids are away for the weekend, and they get to take a nap together? There is something so… luxurious about that as an adult (I don’t have kids, but working full-time doesn’t give you enough time for naps either) that feels so nice and REAL about that, haha.

How do/did you feel writing Modern Problems, Modern Solutions?

I really wanted to channel shitty-teen energy. This was the most TEENAGE ANGST AND TEEN DRAMA story I’ve written. Everyone in the story is properly a teen in this, and I dug deep to remember what it felt like to be a teenager again. So I guess what I was feeling was… teen spirit.

What was the most difficult part of writing Long Road Ahead?

This is a really emotional fic, actually. Probably the hardest chapters to write were chapters 2 and 3 where we see the intense yearning between Eddie and Steve and how both of them truly believe that nothing would work between them—Eddie because he thinks Steve doesn’t like him, and with Steve, it is because he is terrified about being queer. I think the toughest thing about writing this was challenging Steve’s intense internal homophobia. That’s something that isn’t explored a lot in fic, and it does not feel good, so I get it, but I think it’s realistic for the 80s. Steve being really scared about his own feelings would be something a lot of boys would struggle with in that era, especially as a handsome, sporty guy who really thinks he is straight up until that point where he falls HARD for his guy friends uncontrollably. It’s difficult to write characters who have polar opposite opinions compared to yourself, but I find it really interesting, and it makes it really fun to write them GROWING OUT of that mindset.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I don’t think I can pick a line because it has been too long since I have written any of those fics, but scene-wise, I think one of my favourite scenes is from one of my stories called “Tooth and Nail” where EDDIE is the one struggle with the idea of being queer and Steve is the one who has “come out” first. Anyway, Eddie is sitting on one side of a door, and he has no idea if Steve is listening to him or not, but he is confessing all of his feeling of “I messed up, and I don’t know how I feel, but I know I messed up and I’m sorry.” Also later, he cries about it to Steve and gets so embarrassed he pulls his shirt over his head to hide the fact that he is crying, and I still think that is adorable. I really like both of those scenes.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

a) If you haven’t read “Tooth and Nail” you should, it’s older but up on my Tumblr. b) New project wise though!!!! I HAVE THREE NEW ONES! c) “Batter Up” just dropped on June 16th and is a 14,000 word fluff fic for the Steddie Summer Exchange. It’s about Baseball!Player Steve and Rockstar!Eddie meeting and falling in love. d) “Momento Mori” is my Wayne & Steve (with Steddie of course) fic for the Stranger Things Big Bang that will be posting in July, so keep an eye on my Tumblr and/or my Ao3. My artist @/the-aphelion-archives has some really cool art being cooked up, so stay tuned for that! e) And last but not least, my Steddie piece “Senior Year” will be posted for the Steddie Big Bang at the end of this summer/early fall during the bang with art made by @/metalfreaks86! This is my 50k fic that spans from just after Season 2 to after Season 4, and involves a lot of heartbreak, and first loves. Keep an eye on my Tumblr and Ao3 for that one too because we do not yet have a release date.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to whoever nominated me! I often feel like my fics aren’t for everyone because I tend to write for a more serious audience and tackle tougher topics and that just isn’t an overly popular medium in fan fiction––which is fine! Because fan fiction is escapism and I know people use it to feel good, and sometimes you don’t want to read sad stuff. So, I really appreciate people who take the time to read my sad stuff (that ends happily every time, cause I also like happy things haha), and enjoy my hard work. Genuinely, every time I feel like throwing in the towel because I think I’m writing into the void, some little kudo-kween pops up and reminds me that my writing is appreciated. Thanks gang <3 Also!!!! I am ALWAYS accepting requests. Anyone and EVERYONE (anon or not) is welcome to pop into my inbox on Tumblr at ANY TIME to make a Steddie fic request, be that a trope, a tiny Steddie idea or whatever. And if you’ve made a request and I’ve forgotten… please ask again!

Thank you to our author, @skepsiss, and our anonymous nominator! See more of Skepsis_Ree's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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