#beauty and the beast fanfics

[isabeauwolf]

I've read a fanfic with a retelling of Beauty and The Beast with MC as a human and Kai Chisaki as a Vampire. He still had his quirk and taught MC magic, which I loved and adored.

But where's the Monsterhaul version?

We need more Monsterhaul fanfics 🔥😍❤️

Gimme soft Monsterhaul, him protecting his lover from his enemies trying to steal them away from him.

The inner man within him fighting his feral and basic instinct to claim them as his human consciousness fades and his monster side takes over.

Monsterhaul would be more honest, chirping, purring and whining when his lover doesn't give him attention.

A desperate and needy, big birdman.

@angelblueflame @cherry-queens-blog

[doodleclownbunny]

Just once for the play

Commission from @za0mbie

Playfellow’s workshop assigned Sally Starlet to direct the biggest play that Home has ever seen or done: “Beauty and the BarnaBeast”, staring our sweet Julie Joyful, and our comical Barnaby B Beagle. The two were made for this role! Or so everyone is trying to convince themselves including Barnaby and Julie. Especially when Julie’s future in being in any of Sally’s upcoming plays was on the line if they messed this play up.

What would Julie do if she can’t get this right? What would happen if she can’t be apart of any of Sally’s future plays? She had to get this right. She had to! But how could she possibly not make a fool of herself on stage if Barnaby was playing her love interest?

Barnaby on the other hand wants nothing to do with this play. He couldn’t stand Sally’s plays. But he knew that if he slacked off on this, Julie would have been affected too. So he reluctantly agrees to play his part, despite not wanting to.

But as the play progresses, so do feelings between the two. But it’s not real, is it? As soon as the play is over they’ll be back to same old same old. So what if they get more touchy feely between each other? So what if they practice kissing. It’s just once for the play.

The cover art was drawn by

@za0mbie

This fanfic is actually dedicated for him.

Thank you so much for drawing the cover and being the main inspiration for this

And for getting me into this ship.

Also for the warnings for this fic, this fic contains strong language and adult themes that may not be suitable for younger audience.

You can find the story here

[deepspacenova]

BEAUTY VERSUS BEAST

1000 words. Banter. Tension. Hurt/comfort. AU (not as much anymore, I guess).

Note: Had this ready to go and then our actual beast Sylus was announced so let’s just roll with it xx

"Ow. That hurts," he bites out, the lines of his forearms tensing against the pressure of your palm.

Rolling your eyes, you dips the blood-soaked cloth in water and wrings it out before gliding it over the same spot.

“Stop, I said that hurts.” Sylus snarls, yanking his arm from your grasp.

“Well maybe if you’d stop jerking your arm around it wouldn’t hurt so much,” you fire back.

Swiping your hair from your eyes, you ignore his warning growl, grabbing his arm back and holding it toward the icy white light filtering through the velvet curtains.

“You should’ve listened when I said not to go in there.” He repeats, the words grating like stones against each other. But there's something... softer beneath them.

As if you hadn’t heard him the first three times. You snap, “Well maybe you should’ve listened to me, instead of unleashing your damn temper.”

You’re locked in a silent battle, anger and confusion and... gratitude swirling together like the snowflakes outside. You still can’t believe he’d saved you like that — so viciously, so single-mindedly.

“But, um—“ you trail off. You look down, blowing another piece of hair from your face as you press the cloth down once again.

There’s a sudden warmth against your cheek, brushing the offending strand from your face and tucking it away behind your ear. The care of the motion entirely at odds with the sharpness of his tone moments ago.

The shell of your ear is traced by what could only be the heated pad of a finger for just a heartbeat longer than necessary before it vanishes, leaving cool air in its absence.

You look up, eyes wide just as Sylus snatches his hand back. A faint pink tint deepens on his cheeks and he clears his throat.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t mention it, kitten.”

Your lips part, a retort forming, but the words catch in your throat. The nickname lingers between them, heavy and electric, sending a flush crawling up your neck. You should roll your eyes again but instead, you find herself holding his gaze.

“I really wish you’d stop calling me that,” you mutter, your beating heart pounding away the biting tone you’d intended.

His lips tip up, eyes flicking to the heat you can feel spreading across your cheeks. “Why’s that?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you sigh, focusing back on the wound, though your hand hesitates mid-movement. “I’m not some- some pet, Sylus.”

“No, you’re not a pet.” He lowers down, the sudden proximity capturing your next inhale. He'd been sitting in his chair, elbow resting on the arm for your ministrations, but now his forearms are on his knees, and the faint scent of leather and smoke cloud your senses. “But you’re fierce. And you’re beautiful. And you’re… mine.”

Your hand stills completely, the cloth slipping from your fingers and into the bowl with a soft plop. You look up at him, your heart thundering against your ribs. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” he asked, his expression softening. He reaches out again, more confident this time, his knuckle brushing your cheek. “You don’t see it, do you? The way you throw yourself into danger without thinking."

His knuckle traces the curve of your jaw. "The fire in your eyes when you’re yelling at me."

"The way you make me feel like I’d burn the world down to keep you safe.” The knuckle comes to rest below your bottom lip.

“Sylus…” your words get lost in the breath, leaving your lungs in a shaky exhale.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures, your pulse thundering in your ears as his words wrap around her, thick and heavy. His gaze dips to your lips. “But if you want me to stop, you’d better say something now.”

You swallow hard, the air between you thick and meaningful and loud in the absence of your words.

His hand slides to the back of your neck with a firm, almost possessive grip. His thumb brushes against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Good."

Before you could reply — or protest, though you aren't sure you want to — he closes the distance, the space between you vanishing with a tension that feels like the air before a lightning strike.

The kiss isn’t soft or tentative; it's raw, consuming. A declaration as much as it's an action. His mouth claims yours with a fervor that leaves no room for doubt, his hand fisting in your hair to hold you exactly where he wants you. The warmth of his body radiates against yours, his uninjured arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you up onto the chair, erasing what little space had remained.

You gasp against his mouth and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss with an urgency that matches yours. His teeth graze your bottom lip, a teasing nip that makes your muscles loosen and you have to lace your fingers into his hair to restrain yourself, to make yourself remember he's hurt.

“Mine,” he breathes against your lips, his voice a husky growl.

Your mind spins, your heart racing as you try to push back the swirl of emotions overwhelming her. But when your hands grip his shoulders, instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer, matching his intensity with a fierceness of your own.

For a moment, nothing else exists — just the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you aren't as alone as you thought.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Beauty is a beast that roars

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: You quietly long for Eddie’s attention, and when things with Chrissy start to look serious you resort to desperate attempts for him to look at you the way he looks at her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt (no comfort), Eddie is kinda a dick, obsession, hurtful notes being passed, mentions of bulimia/eating disorder, mild stalking, low talk about self image, societal pressure to look a certain way, mental health struggles, characters are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @reveriesources

It started as a slow burn inside of your chest. You blamed it on the stress of finals but the more you saw them together, the more that burn worsened into a blaze; scorching your heart and tarring it black.

You didn’t think it possible to be obsessed with someone that you didn’t love- but you worshipped the very ground that Chrissy Cunningham walked on. At times, you thought she was able to read your mind. The way she effortlessly flicks her natural glowing golden hair over her shoulder as she laughs, looking like she was sculpted by Aphrodite herself- or how she presses her perfect rosy lips in peppery and sweet kisses to Eddie’s cheek. She had him wrapped around her skilful fingers. You couldn’t stand it.

It twisted your insides into a rope like knot- so tight and big and uncomfortable. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think straight when you looked at her. At them. Your brain harbouring thoughts of envy, rotting from the inside out with lightless horrid concepts.

You couldn’t help but follow study Chrissy. Her signature blue eyeshadow that adorns her gorgeous blue eyes, her tiny upturned nose, her well proportioned features- her body. You had never repeated this information to anyone before, not even Eddie, because not only would it expose your research into Chrissy, but because you definitely weren’t ever supposed to find out.

You had walked in on her one day in the bathroom. She was hunched over in a stall, her white sneakers peeking out from beneath the cubicle door. She was vomiting. Harshly.

At first you thought she may just be sick, and she was, but it was a different conversation. You entertained that thought until you walked in a second and third time to her in the exact same position- her fatigued body draped over the toilet bowl. You understood how she maintained her physique. It broke your heart; momentarily.

What broke your heart more was that Eddie evidentially had no idea. You knew, deep down, Chrissy was just like you. A sad, broken girl. But she was better at hiding it. The Duchess of disguise. The Queen of your psyche. Your admiration of her was unhealthy, you knew that much. You just couldn’t stop. You needed Eddie to look at you the way he looks at her.

So you cut your hair into a fringe, and you change your clothes. You find your own signature colour of eyeshadow and you even purchase a few skater skirts. Sports had never really interested you until now; now you were trying out for the cheerleading team. And with being Chrissy’s friend- of course she gave you direct entry.

Because despite her beauty, Chrissy was also kind. Which made the knot in your stomach grow firmer, imbedding itself within you permanently.

-

“Hey, Eddie!” You make sure your voice is dripping with the sweetest form of honey as you bat your mascara thick eyelashes at him. He glances at you from his magazine, quirking a brow at your chirpy energy.

“Hello… What’s up?” He asks, his words clipped as his eyes focus back on the flimsy book he holds sturdily in his hands. God… his hands. The rings that compliment his slender fingers and the bracelets that dress his wrist. You couldn’t get enough of it- of him.

It was impossible for you to hold his attention for more than a few seconds, and you had bound into the library full of hope and partial confidence today. You had pieced together one of your best outfit. A denim jacket draped over your shoulders, a white tank top (with no bra) and a cute skirt in your favourite colour which also matched your eyeshadow. Your hair was in a voluminous pony tail, held up by a great big scrunchie and your eyes were bright with popping colour. Your cheeks were dusted with blush and your nails painted perfectly; with the help of your mother.

You couldn’t think of a reason why Eddie wouldn’t look at you. You looked totally bitchin’!

“Uhm…” you stutter, your small confidence wavering at his lack of interest, “We haven’t really hung out in a while… I thought maybe we could? If you like!” There is a festering in the pit of your stomach, a panic that grows with every anticipating second, “We don’t really hang out anymore... just us, I mean.” You add, hoping further context will make you sound a little less desperate.

You and Eddie used to hang out every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the whole group. But lately… things have changed. And you know the reason why.

Eddie acknowledged you with a hum, finally placing his magazine down and narrowing in on your appearance. You thought you wanted him to look at you, but the intense confusion on his face made you long for the earth to gape open beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Looks like ya did a deep dive through Chrissy’s wardrobe.” His chuckle makes your ears heat and your face flush as his fingertips pluck at the sheer scrunchie wrapped in your hair. You can’t tell if he is joking or not— but to you, it’s a compliment nonetheless.

After a moment of pause and total excitement you gather your composure quickly and cough a meek reply, “I’m trying something new.”

You’re trying to be someone new.

“Hmm,” He examines you further, “I dunno,” Eddie scratches at his chin, his once soft and playful features now express something more distasteful, “I personally prefer your old style— this seems… out of character.” There was a lilt to his deep voice, which made him sound interrogative.

“You.. you do?” You curse inwardly at the stutter in your airy voice. To say his words shocked you was an understatement. They had your jaw hanging loose and your eyes opened broadly. Had you gotten it all wrong? Were you really just as pretty before all of this? Or was he teasing you… was he trying to make you feel better? Was this his attempt at telling you that you look like an utter clown in comparison to Chrissy?

You’d never know… because you would never ever ask him such things.

You think back to a note that got passed to you in class not too long ago- you weren’t sure of the culprit (you suspected Jason) — it read along the lines of,

‘Apply all the makeup you want, but at the end of the day it’s just lipstick on a pig.’

Were you a pig? Was this all just a feeble and comical attempt at beauty? To be desired. To be wanted. It’s all you longed for. It’s all you dreamed of.

You wanted Eddie to see you. To want you. And at this rate, you were losing all hope.

“Yeah,” alongside a small laugh he also flashes you a toothy smile, a mocking smile— and you clamp your jaw closed to stop yourself from shaking out a sob, “Listen, you’re free to chill here with me if you want but— hey!”

You couldn’t take it. The embarrassment. The knife twisting in your chest and puncturing your heart. You flee from the table abruptly before Eddie even has a chance to say anything more to you.

What was wrong with you? You wanted his attention, you wanted him alone and when you got it you despised the humorous way he gazed at you. You didn’t want to be entertaining or funny— you wanted to be loved.

Loved by him.

To please him.

To make him proud…

On exiting the library you pass Chrissy who was entering through the heavy fire doors, clearly she is on her way to meet Eddie. It was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.

The blonde spares you a small smile but not without a worried and intrigued glance at your attire before she is muttering a quick ‘Hello’ which you don’t even bother to return. You are too focused on your pursuit to the bathroom where you can hide yourself in an empty stall and cry without judgement. The only issue? You didn’t bring any makeup wipes for the mascara that has plagued your face in splotches and streaks of black tears.

Your eyes sting furiously and your bottom lip quivers outwith your control. It’s hard to believe that you have allowed yourself to stoop this low, crying shamelessly on campus in front of your peers. Their sympathetic eyes and taunting grins don’t go unnoticed by you as you finally make it to the bathroom, bursting into the void room like a bat out of Hell. Slamming the cubicle door closed and sitting on the toilet bowl where you start to question reality.

What are you doing?

You despise the fact that you know, no matter what, no matter how stupid you look- how ridiculous your clothes are and your sorry attempts at looking pretty, you would continue to do it. Even if people stared, gawked, whistled, laughed… you would continue on this descent into madness. The chase of perfection. The downward spiral of your mind had only just begun and you had a far distance yet to fall.

-

Whilst classes had finished for a long weekend and everyone was outdoors enjoying what was left of the sun before Fall crept its way in, you were sat in front of your bathroom mirror. 

Pulling, pinching, tweezing, twisting, sucking, shaving, grabbing and crying.

God, you couldn’t stop crying.

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t cry.

To you, winter was already here. You were chilled to the bone, hollow in your chest. Insides were sunken. You felt vacant of any joy.

“Honey!!” Your mother yells suddenly from the bottom of the staircase, her voice is cloud like and warm, “Someone is here to see you!” There is a mutter of something inaudible, “Chrissy!” She confirms snippily and your face drops heavily into a worried frown.

“I’m in the shower!!” You shriek back dishonestly and you are reminded that you have a heart as it shudders inside of your chest. You aren’t ready to see her— you don’t have a lick of makeup on, your hair isn’t done and you are still wrapped up in your bath towel. 

Your first thought is how do you get rid of her? How do you lie your way out of this?

You couldn’t.

“Okay, she’ll be waiting down here for you then…” Your mother’s voice dies out and you can hear her offering Chrissy something to drink and eat; which Chrissy declines.

You move around your bedroom agilely, hustling to get as presentable as you possibly could to face the girl waiting downstairs for you. It doesn’t quite register that Chrissy is sitting with your mother, chatting and possibly gossiping. All you care about is getting some makeup slapped on your face and some nice clothes hugging your body.

Your hair can be brushed, but you don’t have time to style it— that’ll have to come later. After multiple a few sprays of your favourite perfume that smells like vanilla and a tinge of cedar wood you feel ready enough to leave your sanctuary.

Nearly tripping over your entire wardrobe that covers your bedroom floor you fly toward the door handle, bracing yourself at the top of the staircase before you descend.

Time to meet your maker.

Your intense gaze flicks hurriedly between your mother and Chrissy as they both stand to meet you as you enter into the lounge room. Chrissy’s hair is twirled and curled to perfection and a short pink summer dress embraces her small frame. On her feet is a pair of red Mary Jane heels and you catch a peek at the silver jewellery strung around her neck and her wrists.

“Hi,” you say, feeling like it is the first breath you take since entering the room.

Chrissy bounds over to you, stringing her arms around your shoulders and pulling you in for a quick but sweet hug, “Hi!” She giggles in a sing song tone before pulling away, “You smell amazing by the way! You’ll have to let me know what that is later!” Her fingers linger on the exposed skin of your bicep and you cringe away from her touch.

“Thanks,” Your mother has long left the room and you walk a few paces away from Chrissy.

“We were heading to the movies, you wanna join? It’s meant to be such a warm night tonight!” To your disadvantage Chrissy follows behind you closely, closing the distance you were trying to create between the both of you, “The whole group will be there! Plus, it’s a thriller which I know you love.” She winks at you and you hate that you can feel your lips curving up into a minuscule smile.

“I dunno, Chris.” Your hand palms at the back of your neck, you feel hot with discomfort and to be quite frank all you want to do is lay in bed and mope.

“Please!” She clasps her hands together, inching closer to you— if that were even possible, “I’ll even buy your ticket!” Her pillowy bottom lip pouts out slightly, “I just wanna hang out with you, it’s been so long.”

And she was right. It had been a long time. You had been so swept up in this horrible pursuit of yours that you forgot you were actually friends with Chrissy. Long before you even knew of Eddie’s existence.

A defeated sigh leaves through your nostrils and you raise your shoulders to your ears, “Fine.” You smile, a smile that feels the most genuine it has in weeks.

Chrissy squeals with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot before taking your hand into hers. Interlocking your fingers so she can make sure you don’t make a run for it, “Let’s go, tiger!”

-

You all find your seats quickly, settling into them with your snacks and beverages. You partially regret not getting a drink but you decide that you’ll be able to soldier through. It’s what you do.

It was no surprise to you that Eddie was there too, but you couldn’t help but panic at the sight of him waiting for you and Chrissy to arrive at the theatre. His tatted arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a love filled smile teasing at his lips as Chrissy trotted over to him, practically jumping into his arms for a hug.

You fell behind them, ensuring you left as much distance as you possibly could. The sight of Eddie alone was enough to send you tumbling into a frenzy of inky feelings.

You could smell Eddie’s cheap cologne mixed with a hint of powerful weed and for a moment it clouds your senses. Taking hold of everything you knew— past, present, future. You couldn’t think about any of it, not with his scent engulfing your nostrils like second hand smoke.

Once the group had settled into the dimly lit theatre you sink into your seat behind Eddie and Chrissy, your shoulders slumping as you wish for the seat to turn into some sort of magical trap door that will transport you to another universe. But of course, you could never be so lucky.

The movie begins with a deafening introduction and you wince at the sound, your finger tips brushing over your ears gently to make sure that they hadn’t been blown off of the side of your head.

Steve occupies the seat next to you, and Robin is next to him with Vickie. You had grown to quite enjoy Vickie’s company. You loved how happy Robin got when she was in touchable reach… you pined for a connection like that.

Normally, you would be in your element as you watched a thriller movie, but something in front of you proved to be far more interesting.

Eddie and Chrissy were whispering sweet nothing into one another’s ear, Chrissy giggling and blushing at whatever it was that Eddie had said— probably something dirty and ridiculous.

And you could handle that. You could endure that.

But what you couldn’t take was watching as their tongues battled it out in a sloppy and erotic kiss. Chrissy had asked you to come and see this film— was it all a rouse just so she could show you who Eddie truly belongs too? So she could dismiss your attempts and break your heart further?

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had clocked the expression on your face. Tears glossing over your eyes, your front teeth gnawing on your bottom lip to try and contain whatever this was that you were feeling— but most importantly, he noticed the newfound stiffness in your body. He could feel you going rigid next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is low and kind and you should have paid more attention to his attentiveness but you don’t.

“I need to use the bathroom.�� Is all you reply before lugging all of your stuff loosely and lazily into your arms and bolting for the theatre isle, but not without earning a few confused looks from Robin.

You bypass the restrooms, your eyes focused on the colossal glass doors which would separate you from Eddie and Chrissy officially.

The humid air hits your skin in an agonising envelop of warmth and you pull your sleeve over the palm of your hand to rub against your soaked cheeks.

Your chest feels heavy with every shaking intake of breath that you manage to pull into your lungs. You are heaving, gasping for air as you sob into the thick material of your sweater.

The sound of passing cars hits your ears and you slightly angle yourself away from the access road connecting the theatre to other public establishments. The images of Chrissy tongue down Eddie’s throat plays over and over in your mind— you don’t even know what the film was about because you were so hyper focused on them.

Your skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right over your skeleton and you grab at the material of your skirt, fisting the fabric as you try to ground your raging emotions.

You catch a whiff of theatre food and it causes bile to raise up the back of your throat, vomit threatening to project from your mouth.

People pass you by, their out of context conversations entering one of your ears and leaving the other. You felt so overstimulated— so riddled with anxiety that your brain hadn’t had space to even register Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

But when you do, you flinch away from him, taken aback by the horror stricken look on his soft features, “Hey… what’s going on?” His voice is low, a whisper as he tries to contain the situation between the two of you. Not wanting whatever this is to spill into the public.

You shake your head, your strong walls flagging up, “Nothing,” you dismiss him, “That movie was just… really scary..” you lie through your teeth and your watery eyes betray your words as tears continue to stream down your flushed skin.

“Bullshit.” He spits, his eyes turning to slits as he inches in closer to you, “Tell me what’s wrong right now.” His thick eyebrows have furrowed deeply on his forehead and you continue to deny him of any information.

“Steve— I’m fine! That movie was scary, I’m scared! That’s all… and.. and I needed some fresh air.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping that the messy headed man would leave it at that but he replies to your dishonesty with a discontent shake of his head.

“You’re fucking lying. Why are you lying to me?” He is so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning onto your face, “We’re friends, right?” He cocks his head slightly to the right, his eyes becoming a bit more gentle, “Right?”

“Yes!” You respond instantly, “Of course we are friends-“

“Then tell me what’s going on! What is all of this about!” He gestures to your face, but his eyes scan across your body as well. He wants to know the whole truth, and you aren’t going to give it to him.

“I just told you!” You try not to yell, and thankfully your despair is doing a good job at strangling your voice, “I needed air—“ Steve cuts you off.

“Stop it. Stop it now.” He takes a hold of your arm, hurrying you away from the movie theatre entrance, “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can help! I can help, okay? There’s nothing too big.” You stare into his honey suckle eyes, seeing your owe reflection staring back at you. It causes your stomach to flip with disgust.

“Why can’t you just let this go? I’m fine, Steve! I’m fucking fine! I just wanted air because I felt sick and you’re causing a scene!” You’re yelling now, your once sadness provoked tears turning to anger.

“I’m causing the scene? You’re the one lying to me and busting my balls! I just want to help you!” He takes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone, I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself— you don’t get it! You’ll never get it, Harrington!” You jab at his chest, your body shaking with adrenaline.

“Harrington? Wow, okay. Something is definitely bothering you because you only ever call me that when you are really fucking pissed and I know I haven’t angered you this much so just tell me.” He circles you like a shark in murky water and you flee from him, needing some breathing space.

“Tell me!” He demands, charging after you.

You swing around to face him, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to combust.

“You wanna know, Steve? You really wanna fucking know?!” You march toward him, stopping a few paces away from his large frame.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Your voice is an unattractive squeak, “Is that what you want to know, Steve? Are you fucking happy now?” You’re trembling now— a mix of rage, melancholy and dread.

“I am in love with someone who will never love me back. I… I have tried so hard to win him over.” You pluck at your t-shirt, scoffing at the silliness of it all, “I tried to change everything about me. I tried to be the one he would want but he doesn’t want me. He’ll never fucking want me, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a form of defensiveness, “I’ll always be second best— no.” A moment of ugly realisation hits you, “I’m not even on his list. I’m not even a back up option to him. I’m a nobody. I can’t compete— I can’t compare.”

You’re a mess now. Smudged eyeliner. Smeared lipstick. You are a museum of failed art.

“I am in love with Eddie Munson and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

You try to lessen the blow of your own words with a tight lipped teary smile and a shrug of your shoulders… but whatever was left of your bruised heart was now torn to shreds. Unfixable. Unlovable.

“No one wants me.”

Through your distorted vision you hadn’t even noticed the tears pricking at Steve’s own eyes as he watched you fall to pieces in front of him.

Gently he brings you to lay flat against his chest, one of his hands rest tenderly against your hair whilst the other it draped over your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you silently and allows you to sob into his broad chest— your makeup destroying his pristine white shirt.

A few moments of the embrace pass and that’s when you hear a muted voice from behind Steve’s large frame. A voice you had hoped to not hear— a voice that belonged to someone you had prayed would never ever hear you confess what you just had. A voice that was laced with what you could only pinpoint as malice and repulsion.

Eddie.

“What.. the fuck?”

And as Steve’s body tensed against yours, you blinked away the last of your tears and accepted your fate.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers

[firawren]

"He only lives to serve," a smutty Beauty and the Beast one-shot

Beast/Belle | rated E | 1.6k words

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, monster fucking, Beast in Beast Form Sex, Size Kink, Breeding, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship

Summary:

She smiles as she pulls back from him to kneel on his thighs. “Ready?” she asks, and he feels almost guilty that she's the one asking him, when shouldn't this all be a lot more for her to take than him? But he knows full well that she's the stronger of the two of them, for all that he can pick up a wolf like a ragdoll and rip a table apart like paper. “Are you ready?” he asks anyway. She drags her palm up his weeping cock, making his breath stutter. “Yes, Beast. I want you.”

Based off of this very hot artwork by @youkaiyume! You should sub to her Patreon! She makes the most gorgeous, hot Beast/Belle art.

👉 Read on AO3

[aglasspomegranate]

I can't get over the one sided love of a deity trapped in stone with a newcomer to their land.

Fields of Misteria has a dragon statue that seemes to be romanceable later on named Caldarus. They are immortal and trapped in stone because they have grown weak and their memory fuzzy.

You nurse then back into power by collecting nature essence by doing things around your farm. Cutting grass, tending crops. Cutting trees, clearing rocks etc.

I can't get over this idea of one sided longing or enamorment now. A mostly silent being who watches from afar as you wake up everyday just before the sun comes over the mountains in the distance and begin your work.

Diligently clearing land, planting and lovingly caring for your crops. The strength you built as an adventurer coming in handy with cutting down large trees and smashing large rocks with ease. The gentle way you handle your farm animals and the bonds you build with the community.

The beam of pride you have when you complete a days worth of work. Tired, sweaty, dirty---but happy and content.

They watch you get frustrated when you get tired and you're so close to being done, when your backpack gets too full too soon, watching you take breaks to restore your stamina and how you treat animals, even bugs, with kindness by shooing them away before clearing the next plot of land.

They see the gentle smile of your face as you water and weed your plants and hear you regale the silent stone with stories of your adventuring days. They see you run past into the village with gifts to give and materials to offer, help to aid those that need it.

They feel sad when you sleep in, noting how unusual it is for you to sleep in late and plead for you to take care of yourself and not push so hard. The mines are dangerous and their power is limited.

The find themselves worrying for you. Did you remember to make food? Are you eating a proper diet? Are you remembering to rest? You can be so stubborn sometimes.

They despise being so weak, they wish to speak to you more, to see your eyes light up with new information and to keep you company. To aid you in your self appointed quest of a manageable farm and happy life.

They find themselves excited for dawn, when you come out and stand in front of their statue--coffee in hand while you plan your day, knowing they can't respond but still treating them kindly, gently.

You make sure to scrub them clean when the rain comes to avoid mildew and moss growing on them. It can't be comfortable and somehow you think of it like a virus for them. They're your friend and you want them to be taken care of, since, as a statue it's not like they can clean themselves.

They think you are devoted to kindness to those around you.

And they wish to reward such devotion.

By returning it in kind.

[beauty-beast-week]

Be our guest at Beauty and the Beast Week, August 18–24, 2025!

We're creating fanworks celebrating all variations of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast! Save the date and start drafting your creations!

Anyone can join, and all types of fandom works are welcome: fanfic, fanart, podfic, gifsets, edits, mood boards, memes, etc. Each work must contain at least one Disney BatB character (crossovers, OCs, and reader-inserts are allowed too!), be newly created for the event, and not use AI. See the full rules and FAQs.

There will be some new aspects to the event this year: a podfic exchange and beta reading exchange. More info on these in about a month. Follow this blog so you don’t miss future announcements!

Last year, our prompts were about plants, but this year, our theme is “Beasts of every kind,” with a different animal prompt for each day. The idea is not that you create something literally about that animal (though you could), but that you think of things metaphorically associated with it and use that as inspiration.

Here are the 2025 prompts with some associated ideas:

(Text version of prompts below the “Keep reading” link)

The examples in parentheses above are merely ideas. Feel free to use your own interpretations of the daily prompts! For example, bird > eggs > Gaston > fic about how/why Gaston got obsessed with eggs. Find more ideas at #inspiration.

You are NOT expected to do something every day! Just 1 work for 1 day of your choosing is enough, though you are welcome to do more if you like. And you are NOT expected to create your fanwork on that day, just post it on that day.

Send an ask or DM if you have any questions! Hosted by @firawren

Please reblog this post to spread the word! You’re also free to repost the prompts banner above on your own blog or any other social media and link them back to this post.

2025 prompts:

Day 1: Wolf (found family, hunting, hunger, forest, winter, mob...)

Day 2: Bird (fluff, music, dancing, birth, finery, freedom, travel...)

Day 3: Octopus (intelligence, deception, fitting in, water, silence...)

Day 4: Monkey (play, curiosity, energy, laughter, tricks, children...)

Day 5: Snake (angst, horror, poison, pain, temptation, sensuality...)

Day 6: Horse (farm, work, power, endurance, speed, anxiety...)

Day 7: Free day

[simeon-lovergirl]

HEAR ME OUT

A Beauty and the Beast retelling

But with Sylus

DRAGON Sylus

[jhyoos]

coming soon !

mainly for my bookie @torradeironic !

(just a warning. it’s gonna be heavily based on the french beauty and the beast.)

comment if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[isabeauwolf]

Sooo for my Monsterhaul x Mary AU 🐦‍⬛💜💚

I'm stuck. What do y'all think that 8 bullets would turn into since you know, they work for Overhaul and they are cursed with him.

I've got Chronostasis as an old clock

Eri as a China doll

Mimic as a plague doctor plushy

June as a feather duster... And that's it.

I still gotta think of something for Rappa, Tengei, Hojo, and the rest

------

@angelblueflame

[worst-igor]

━━━━━ ࣪ ˖⊹‧₊˚ִ ࣪‧₊⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⋆‧₊˚ִ ࣪⊹⭒๋࣭ ˖ִ ࣪ ࣪━━━━━

—۶ৎ 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔞 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔸𝕌

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁·:¨༺ Vous et la Bête·: ༻¨:·. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

━━━━━ ࣪ ˖⊹‧₊˚ִ ࣪‧₊⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⋆‧₊˚ִ ࣪⊹⭒๋࣭ ˖ִ ࣪ ࣪━━━━━

On your way home from University, you find yourself stranded in the snow with a wrecked car, stumbling through the eerie forest to find a strange, rose-covered castle, untouched by the chill of winter... 🥀 Atop his head, gleaming in the light, two black horns sat amidst ebony hair. A loose green dressing gown, trimmed with gold, hung off of his shoulder, tied at the hips and cascading around him. His exposed chest was pale, covered in faint, almost imperceptible… well you could’ve sworn they were… scales. Now in the full light, you could see them at the edges of his face as well, peeking out from under his hair. As you stared closer, completely forgetting about the notion of catching flies, you noticed the scales growing darker as they traveled down his abdomen, until they glittered black before vanishing beneath the dressing gown. 🥀 Inspired by the illustrated Beauty and the Beast picture book by Jan Brett, and the 2014 French film adaptation, Belle et la Bête

ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57778141/chapters/147054226

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥:

Fairytale Retellings | Magical Curses | Angst | Happy Ending | Mentions of Death | Eventual Smut (optional)

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Unfair"

This is an imagine based on the song “Unfair” by Felix, along with the Beauty and the Beast theme :

Warning : None.

Enjoy!

------------

The air was heavy with mist as you wandered through the forest, your heart pounding in your chest. The stories you’d heard of the cursed prince filled your mind, but your determination outweighed your fear. Somewhere in the depths of these woods was the castle—and with it, him.

The Beast.

You had heard of him all your life, the villagers calling him a monster, a dangerous creature who should be left to rot in his solitude. But you never believed their stories. Something about the way they spoke of him—like he was more of a symbol of their fear than a real being—sparked a curiosity in you that never faded.

It wasn’t until you stumbled upon an old book in your family’s attic that you discovered the truth. The pages detailed the curse of the prince—a man once known for his kindness and humility, brought to ruin by envy and betrayal. The rose was his only hope, and the spell could only be broken by true love.

But the part that struck you the most was the painting at the back of the book: a young man with golden eyes and a sorrowful expression. The Beast wasn’t a monster. He was a human trapped in a world that had forgotten him.

Something in you ached at the thought of him, alone and misunderstood, waiting for a love that might never come. You couldn’t explain it, but the pull toward him was undeniable. And so, despite the warnings, despite the fear that crept up your spine as you ventured into the cursed forest, you came searching for him.

You stumbled upon the rose first, growing impossibly out of a jagged rock in the center of a clearing. Its petals glowed faintly, trembling with the weight of the curse that clung to them. Each fallen petal sent a shiver through you, as though the very forest mourned.

And then you saw him.

He emerged from the shadows, a figure cloaked in black, the chains on his boots clinking softly as he walked. His hood concealed most of his face, but the golden glow of his eyes pierced through the darkness. His wings were furled tightly against his back, feathers ruffled and streaked with pain.

"Who are you?" His voice was low, guarded, as if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in years.

You took a shaky breath. “I came to find you.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound echoing through the clearing. “You shouldn’t have.”

But even as he turned away, you caught a glimpse of his face. The anguish there made your chest ache, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out.

“Please,” you said softly. “I see you.”

He froze, his wings twitching slightly as if the words had struck a chord deep within him. Slowly, he turned to face you, his hood falling back to reveal his face fully. He wasn’t a monster. He was beautiful in a way that words couldn’t capture—his features sharp and regal, his golden hair falling in soft strands, and his eyes… his beautiful eyes held lifetimes of pain and longing.

. . .

Later, you found yourself in the castle, seated at a grand dining table that stretched endlessly before you. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow, but the space felt cold, empty. Across from you, Felix sat stiffly, his gaze fixed on you as though he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

“Why do you stay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know my story, don’t you?”

You met his eyes, your heart breaking at the vulnerability there. “Because I believe there’s more to you than this curse. And I don’t really care about the made-up story of you that people created.”

For the first time, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. But just as quickly as it appeared, it faded, replaced by a deep sadness.

“The curse can’t be broken,” he said, his wings shifting uncomfortably. “I’ve tried to fight it, but—”

“You don’t have to fight alone,” you interrupted, reaching across the table. Your fingers brushed against his, and he flinched, as if your touch burned.

But he didn’t pull away.

. . .

The rain poured down in sheets, drenching the world in a relentless rhythm. You found him in the clearing again, kneeling before the rose. His wings were spread wide, droplets clinging to the white feathers, and his head hung low as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Felix!” you called, your voice breaking through the storm.

He looked up, his face twisted in anguish. “I can’t do this anymore,” he choked out. “Every day, I lose more of myself. Every petal that falls… it’s killing me.”

You ran to him, dropping to your knees beside him. “You’re not alone,” you said firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I won’t let you fall.”

His eyes searched yours, wide with disbelief. “Why would you save someone like me?”

“Because you’re not the Beast they say you are,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging around you. “You’re a human. And you’re worth saving.”

Tears mixed with the rain on his face as he leaned into your touch. For the first time, the chains on his soul seemed to loosen, the weight of the curse lifting just enough for hope to shine through.

And in that moment, his angelic wings; the testament to his cursed destiny, faltered and disappeared, with realization dawning upon him that maybe, just maybe, he could be saved and loved; that you were his Belle.

---

A/N : Both the song and the MV are so beautiful, I just had to write this. :3

[somewhere-elena]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ

ʜᴇɪᴀɴ ᴇʀᴀ sᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ x ғ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀsᴛ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴇᴅ)

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

The bird's chirpped outside as you exited from your home, a basket in hand as you were making your way to the village market. You lived in a small village, being basically adopted by the town's inventor, Satoru Gojo. He found you when you were young and took you in, basically raising you. And you loved him as if he were a father.

You were well known amongst your village for being the beauty that loves to read. Ever since Gojo taught you when you were young, you always got lost in the different worlds that the books had to offer.

As always, the village was as lively as ever, people walking around doing their morning errands, children playing, business owners working hard. It was always satisfying to see in a way.

You walked around, using the money Gojo gave you to buy bread, produce and other goods.

Once you were done with that, you walked over to the town's library. Your favorite shop in the whole town. Not just because of the books, but also because of the librarian, Nanami. He was good friends with Gojo and helped taught you to read and provided you with all the books you could want. While he was a stoic man, he had a soft spot when it came to you.

The bell jingled as you entered the shop, alerting Nanami of your presence.

"Ah, Y/n, good morning." He greeted with a soft smile.

"Good morning, Nanami. I came to return my book." You said, handing him the book you borrowed two days ago

Smiling, Nanami took the book from you. "Already finished, I see? Come to get a new one then?" He asked.

"You know me so well." You said with a small laugh, walking to one of the bookshelves and looking at the different selections, a lot of which you already read. You settled on a certain thicker book. A book with many different fables and tales inside, each story a different universe with different characters and outcomes. It was your childhood book and you loved it. It was very nostalgic.

"This one." You declared.

"That one? But you've read it twice!" Nanami said.

"And I can read it again! I can't help it, the different stories, the characters, the world's, it's wonderful!" You said.

"Ah, if you like it so much, then consider it yours." Nanami smiled.

"But Nanami-" you said, wanting to argue against it.

"Please, I insist." He said.

You smiled brightly, holding the book close to your chest as you backed towards the door. "Well, thank you! Thank you very much!"

You left the library and began walking through town to return home. Until you bumped into the last person you wanted to see. Naoya Zenin. When you first met him, he immediately started trying to woo you, which didn't really catch your interest that much. You could tell he was cocky and arrogant. You didn't like that in a guy.

"Good morning, Y/n!" He said with a charming smile.

"Good morning, Naoya." You replied, putting on a polite smile.

"What's that you got there?" Naoya asked, picking you book up and holding it up to inspect it.

"My book." You replied.

"Why do you read, Y/n? You could do much better things with your time, like trying to find a perfect suitor. Like me." Naoya said smugly, tossing your book in the mud.

You sigh, gently picking you book up and wiping the mud off of it. "It's a hobby, Naoya." You said.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home, see you around." You said, waving him off before he could say anything else and walking away.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You walked through the front door, closing it behind you then walking over to the table and setting your basket down.

"Gojo?" You called out, curious as to where he was.

Until you heard flanking noises from the cellar. He must be working on a new invention. Smiling softly to yourself, you walked down the steps.

"Gojo?" You called out again. He was at his work desk, twisting something his wrench.

You walked over, peeking over his shoulder curiously.

"How's the crossbow coming along?" You asked. That was his invention. A contraption that could launch arrows on its own.

"So far so good! I'll have it complete in time for the convention!" He exclaimed.

He had an upcoming inventors conventions tomorrow, it would be a days long trip, so he was leaving today.

You laughed softly, patting his shoulder.

"Hand me that screwdriver." He said, holding out his hand. You reached over to his toolbox and pulled one out, placing it in his hand.

"Gojo, would you say I'm weird?" You asked.

He paused his movements, surprised by your question. "Now what brought that up?"

"Just.. Some things said around town, I guess. I mean, women don't normally read." You replied.

"Well, yeah, but that makes you special, doesn't it? You can read while most women can't." He said.

"But that makes it harder to find a man to love. They don't like my smarts..." You mumbled.

Gojo frowned, standing up to where he was now taller than you. "Any man that doesn't like your smarts, is a damn fool. You're amazing, Y/n and I made sure to raise you to be unique in your own way. You'll find someone soon, Y/n/n." He reassured.

You smiled, hugging him tightly, warning a grunt of surprise from him. He smiled as well, wrapping his arms around you in return.

"Thank you for being the best guardian I could ask for, Gojo." You mumbled.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You gave Gojo one last hug before he hopped on your guys' horse, Jugai.

You sighed softly to yourself as you were up for a long next few days.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within

Jake "Hangman" Serisin x Reader

He once had it all—riches, friends, fame—yet it was never enough. If only he’d seen the truth before it was too late. Now, everything has changed, and the blame lies squarely on his shoulders.

You’ve always lived with a quiet sense that something was missing, though you could never quite say what. When your father doesn’t return from a trip, concern drives you toward an unknown fate. What you find may be the adventure you’ve longed for—or the unravelling of secrets that were meant to stay forgotten.

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this or doing a challenge of the sorts, so please bear with me if it's not the best. Also, English is my second language and I speak 5, so if sometimes make mistakes or confuse words, please tell me respectfully so that I can improve. In addition, I'm still new to Tumblr, so I don't really know how to completely work it, so be patient with me. I am pretty excited to show you guys my take on my favourite fairy tale with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. I really hope you like it and enjoy it. Also, a small shoutout to @arcane-vagabond since she's the one that created this challenge and actually her work inspires me so much with how she writes and is able to transport you to other worlds. So yeah, without further outdo, thank you and hope you enjoy.

Juberous: adjective: Doubtful; undecided; hesitating.

Series;

Prologue (Published)

Chapter 1 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 2 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 3 (Published)

Chapter 4 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 5 (Published)

Chapter 6 (Published)

Chapter 7 (Published)

Chapter 8 (Published)

Chapter 9 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 10 (Published)

Chapter 11 (Published)

Chapter 12 (Published)

Epilogue (Published)

[knoepfl]

~~~ Masterlist ~~~

Hey there! I decided I want to do a Masterlist since I have quite a lot of work already published and wanted a place where it's organised and everyone can see clearly if there is something they'd like to read^^ I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible but I'm sure I'll fall behind at some point. Anyways. At the beginning you can see a alphabetical order of the characters I already wrote. So if you look for a specific character be sure to look into it to see if it's there. If you notice there isn't one you like you can always sent a request or ask a question^^ I'd be happy to fulfil and answer all of them if I can. Anyways I hope you like my work!

Last Updated: 24.05 25

Updated: DC Masterlist

Character List (Alphabetical)

✧ Arthur Fleck (Joker)

✧ Astarion (Baldur's Gate 3)

✧ Benedict Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

✧ Bobble (Tinkerbell)

✧ Bruno Madrigal (Encanto)

✧ Cal Kestis (Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor)

✧ Cedric the Sorcerer (Sofia the First)

✧ Chop Top Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Clawd Wolf (Monster High)

✧ Clawdeen Wolf (Monster High)

✧ Clopin Trouillefou (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

✧ Cole Mikaelson (Vampire Diaries)

✧ Drayton Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Dottore (Genshin Impact)

✧ Edward Nygma (Arkham Games/Gotham Series)

✧ Enjiro Kirishima (My Hero Academia)

✧ Felix Fickelgruber (Wonka)

✧ Fred Weasley (Harry Potter)

✧ Gaston (Beauty and the Beast)

✧ Genichi Sojo (Kagurabachi)

✧ Heath Ledger's Joker (Batman: The Dark Knight)

✧ Homelander (The Boys)

✧ James Hook (Peter Pan)

✧ Jerome Valeska (Gotham Series)

✧ Jeremiah Valeska (Gotham Series)

✧ Jervis Tetch (Batman: The Animated Series, Gotham Series, Arkham Games)

✧ Jinx (Arcane)

✧ Jonathan Crane (Batman: The Animated Series)

✧ Klaus Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

✧ L Lawliet (Death Note)

✧ Legoshi (Beastars)

✧ Ling (Mulan)

✧ Luigi (The Mario Movie)

✧ Magnus von Hagen (Haus Anubis)

✧ Mahito (Jujutsu Kaisen)

✧ Melon (Beastars)

✧ Michael Groff (Sex Education)

✧ Michael Myers (Halloween)

✧ Monoma Neito (My Hero Academia)

✧ Mylo (Arcane)

✧ Nubbins Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Nuca (The Lion King 2)

✧ Palladium (Winx)

✧ Pennywise (IT)

✧ Rick (Rick and Morty)

✧ Salo (Arcane)

✧ Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)

✧ Silco (Arcane)

✧ Stu Macher (Scream)

✧ Syndrome (The Incredibles)

✧ Tim LaFlour (Senseless)

✧ Tomura Shigaraki (My Hero Academia)

✧ Trueman (The Trueman Show)

✧ Tsuchigomori (Toilet Bound Hanako kun)

✧ Viktor (Arcane)

✧ Wiggins (Pocahontas)

✧ Yō Uei (Dr. Stone)

✧ Zac Varmitech (Go Wild Mission Wildnis)

-------------------------------------------------------

Anime Masterlist

○●○○●○○○●○○○○●○○○

DC Masterlist

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Horror Movie Masterlist

~~~~||||~~~~~||||~~~~~

Movie Masterlist

|||===|||====|||====|||====|||===|||

Disney Masterlist

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//

Arcane Masterlist

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><

Series Masterlist

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Games Masterlist