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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode six: the monster

Steve’s looking at you now and you can see all the cuts and bruises on his face. You want to wipe all the blood away, to stitch him up and place him somewhere safe so that nothing else can hurt him. You want to do all of this and more as he stares at you and silently begs you to stay, but you can’t. You shake your head at him and once again his mask slips; he’s just a scared teenage boy. You want to reach out, to grab his hand and remind him that he’s good, but you don’t.

summary: so nancy and jonathan are a Thing now and you really just need a good nap, the three of you go shopping for monster hunting supplies (which honestly isn't the weirdest thing you've done this week), an old man sells you a sentimental knife, and steve kind of accidentally kidnaps you with a sexy black eye.

rating: general, slight violence and a lot of cursing though

warnings: blood, fem!reader, use of y/n, use of the word "queer" in a negative way, steve being an asshole

words: 8.1k

before you swing in: hey guys ! sorry for the delay in updates. finals season took me OUT and then life kinda happened and suddenly i was hiding out from my roommate turned middle school bully ??? idek. anyways, here's chapter 6 which features the iconic alley scene and some very sentimental stevexreaderxjonathan scenes (theyre a mess). enjoy !

“Geesh, you’re not a sleeping beauty.”

Dustin’s face greets you when you open your eyes. He’s hovering over you as the morning light streams through your curtains with a determined glint in his eyes.

“What–?” Your brain hasn’t caught up with what’s going on quite yet, still half asleep.

“Wake up! I’m going to Mike’s so we can all talk about yesterday and I promised to keep you updated, so… Here’s me updating you.”

Hearing Mike’s name is what causes you to fully wake up. Mike. The Wheeler’s. Nancy. Steve seeing Jonathan with her on her bed. You quickly sit up and knock your head against Dustin’s, causing the boy to yelp.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” you say, rubbing your head as your brother glares at you. “Wasn’t intentional, honest. Can you wait like twenty minutes so I can get ready? I wanna come with, I think Jonathan spent the night there and I need to talk to him.”

Your brother frowns. “Why would Jonathan spend the night at Mike’s?”

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” You say, hoping it’ll be enough of an explanation for him.

Dustin studies you for a moment and you really hope that last night’s events aren’t written all over your face. Somehow, everyone seems to know what you’re thinking and feeling before you even do.

“Fine,” he concedes, but as he leaves your room he calls over his shoulder, “I’m taking the last of mom’s pancakes though!”

You flop back onto your bed, throw a pillow over your face, and groan. Looks like you’re stuck with a banana for breakfast again.

When you eventually manage to make your way into the bathroom and shower, your bones ache from pure exhaustion. As the warm water runs over your body, you’re not quite sure if the ache is more emotional or physical. Probably a mix of both.

You can’t remember how you made it home last night, but slowly it comes back to you in flashes.

Steve and his wonderful boyishness that has become a breath of fresh air to you. The way he greeted you so excitedly, how he had been worried about Nancy.

Nancy, who you had left alone with Jonathan because of your own pathetic feelings. The girl Steve Harrington is obviously in love with. The same girl Jonathan, your Jonathan, is beginning to fall in love with.

Then you remember the hurt in Steve’s eyes when he saw Nancy and Jonathan together on her bed. The water suddenly burns and you gasp out in pain and adjust the temperature.

You know that Jonathan would never do something like that, try to get with someone in a relationship, but lately it’s felt like you don’t really know him like you used to.

Distantly you remember what Steve had said to you, how he’d seemed so hurt on your behalf, that Jonathan had “everything he could possibly want” when it came to you. Steve claimed you deserved better. You vividly remember that part, the way he said it with such certainty and sincerity that it had made your heart stutter for a brief moment.

Dustin’s pounding on the bathroom door breaks you from your thoughts. “Dude, hurry up!”

You yell at him that you’ll be out in a second and nearly slip and die as you hurry to get out of the shower. For someone who swore last night not to let stupid boy drama not get in the way of finding Will, you’re really bad at doing it.

As soon as you’re dressed and ready, you and Dustin bike to the Wheeler’s.

Mrs. Wheeler, as usual, answers the door and lets the two of you in. Dustin heads towards the basement door, but before he goes down you tap on his hat to stop him.

“Remember what we talked about last night, okay? Friendship, it’s always worth it.” You tell him, and he gives you a nervous smile. He thanks you, takes a deep breath, and then heads downstairs.

Once Dustin leaves you make your way upstairs towards Nancy’s room. You haven’t been there in years, so you secretly hope you’re remembering the Wheeler’s layout correctly. With every step you take closer to the girl’s room, your heart pounds within your chest. You feel the same wave of nausea that you felt last night.

When you reach her door, you take a deep breath, just like Dustin had earlier, and will yourself to knock. You’re not sure what you’ll find on the other side of the door, or if you even want to know, but you remind yourself that you’re doing this for Will.

It’s all for Will.

You hear rustling in Nancy’s room after you knock, followed by a quiet “hide!” and a loud thud that you presume to be Jonathan. In another life you’d laugh at the situation, but hearing their frantic hiding only makes your nausea worse.

“It’s just me,” you say through the door, somehow managing to find your voice. It’s weak and frail, but they seem to hear you regardless.

“Y/N!” Nancy sighs in relief when she opens the door. “God, I thought you were my mom.”

“Bug?” You hear Jonathan’s inquisitive voice, and when you poke your head into the room you see half of his body wedged underneath Nancy’s bed. He gives you a sheepish wave and you find yourself suppressing a laugh.

You let yourself into the room. “Great hiding place, bee. Mr. Wheeler would definitely never find you there.”

Nancy’s eyes suddenly widen. “Oh, we didn’t– it’s not like that, I promise. Jonathan was gonna sleep on the ground, but I was scared and I guess we just… Yeah.”

You notice the way she desperately avoids your eyes, almost as if out of guilt. Jonathan is no better, his head ducked in shame as he also can’t quite reach your eyes. When he finally manages to, his smile is a hesitant one. “Her bed wasn’t the same as the bean bag, bug.”

His words are meant to be a sort of peace offering between the two of you, you know this by the way Jonathan’s voice is soft and unsure. He knows he’s crossed an unspoken line between the two of you, and you’re too tired to argue.

“Yeah, I’m sure it wasn’t.” You offer him your hand, which he gladly accepts, and you help him up from underneath Nancy’s bed.

Nancy watches the two of you and the way you immediately fall back into your comfortable familiarity together. Jonathan stands slightly in front of you as he always does, he hasn’t let go of your hand just yet. You stroke your thumb across his fingers that are interlocked with yours.

She clears her throat, sits down on her bed, and motions for you to join. “So, I guess you’re here for a reason.”

You gently remove Jonathan’s hand from yours and sit next to Nancy while he’s left to awkwardly stand before the two of you. “Well, yeah. You guys kinda disappeared on me last night.”

Nancy and Jonathan exchange an uneasy look, which only leaves you feeling uneasy as well. Jonathan walks over to her side so that now he’s standing behind her as she sits on the bed. “I’m sorry, bug. It’s just… well, last night was fucking terrifying.”

“What happened?” You ask, now discarding your confusing feelings. Out of habit you find yourself scanning over their bodies for any injuries, just in case the two of them need any care.

“The monster… we found him.” Nancy whispers. She tries to explain more, but the memories seem to come crashing back and she shudders. Without thinking, you grab her hand and try to steady her nerves; she smiles.

Jonathan sees Nancy’s fear and steps in to explain. “After you left yesterday, we searched the woods like we planned. We walked around for hours and found nothing, but then we found a dying deer and before we could kill it…”

“Something dragged it into the woods.” Nancy finishes.

You hold your breath, now very relieved you hadn't joined them last night.

Jonathan continues. They’d been separated as they looked for the deer and suddenly he could hear Nancy screaming for help, but no matter where he ran he couldn’t seem to find her.

“I followed the sound of her voice, it was like she was right there, but she wasn’t.”

Nancy sits stoically next to you, her eyes have glazed over. You feel horrible for her, and you vaguely remember something that Dustin had told you about the Vale of Shadows

The Vale of Shadows is a dimension that is a dark reflection or echo of our world. It is a place of decay and death. A plane out of phase. A place of monsters. It is right next to you, and you don’t even see it.

Slowly you piece it together. “Nancy, could you hear Jonathan, too?”

She nods. “I was in the woods, but I wasn’t… I don’t know, it was– it was different there. Cold, I remember it was cold.”

“And it was just like home?”

“What…” Nancy looks even more scared now. “How did you know that?”

You glance at Jonathan, worried that what you’re about to say will cause a reaction. “Will said the same thing when El was able to communicate with him.”

“Wait a minute,” Jonathan interrupts. “Nancy was in the… the Upside, or whatever Mike and them call it?”

“The Upside Down,” you confirm.

Nancy shudders once more. “I think that the monster lives there, feeding on that deer. So if Will and Barbara are there…”

She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for you to understand what she’s getting at. Anything that feeds on something as big as a deer is fucking terrifying. If Will and Barb are really stuck in that dimension with the monster, then all your cautioning towards Dustin about getting his hopes up makes you feel ill.

Will and Barb are basically trapped in that monster’s hunting ground.

“My mom said she talked to Will.” Jonathan reminds the two of you. “And Y/N, the boys claim that El can still find him wherever he is. If he’s alive, there’s a chance that Barbara is, too.”

“He’s right, Nancy.”

Nancy shakes her head. “But that means she’s trapped in that place.”

“Look, this may not sound reassuring, but we have El and the boys. They’re smarter than the three of us combined.” Nancy and Jonathan look at you like you’re insane. “I know they’re young, but they’ve uncovered more than we have within the same amount of time. They’re the reason why we know about the Upside Down, and as we speak I’m more than certain that they’re out there right now trying to find a gate to the Upside Down.”

You take a deep breath. “Now, do I think they’ll find it? Absolutely. But do I fear they’ll find something even worse along the way? Also absolutely. But right now we need to focus on finding the damn thing so we can kill it and protect the kids in the meantime. If we do this right, we can eliminate any possible threat so that when the boys inevitably find another way into the Upside Down, we can just walk in and save Will and Barb.”

While Jonathan still looks at you like you’re crazy, Nancy clenches her jaw and nods at you. “We have to find it again.”

Despite how obviously terrified she still is, Nancy’s bravery impresses you. In a way, you suppose that Mike gets his unyielding loyalty from her, which if someone had told you that last week, you would’ve laughed in their face.

But now?

You’re relieved to have someone like Nancy Wheeler in your life, even if her presence has created some issues that you never would’ve thought possible. For better or for worse, she’s fiercely loyal and determined, just like you.

Jonathan studies Nancy, clearly still worried about what she went through last night. “You wanna go back out there?”

The thought of her going back into the Upside Down makes you nervous. “Do we necessarily have to send Nancy back there? Can’t we just like, I don’t know, summon the thing? It clearly likes hunting for food in this dimension.”

“‘Hunting for food…’” Nancy mumbles to herself. She knits her brows together, seemingly drawing some conclusions. “When I saw it, it was feeding on that deer.”

“Poor deer,” you whisper, and Jonathan shakes his head at you to shut up.

“Meaning it’s… it’s a predator, right?”

“Right.” Jonathan says while you go “Unfortunately.”

Nancy is on a roll now, her usually confident demeanor now back. “And it seems to hunt at night, like a–like a lion or a coyote.” She grabs a textbook that had been discarded on her bed and flips to a page showing other dangerous predators.

“But don’t most predators hunt in packs?” You ask, which has been something on your mind recently. Sure, you know there’s a monster, but how can you be sure there’s only one?

Nancy bites her lip. “Yeah, but for some reason this thing is always alone… like a bear.”

“Honestly, I’d take a bear over whatever the hell we’re dealing with here.” Jonathan once again shakes his head at you, but you wave him off. “Let me lighten the mood, damn.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Nancy smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she continues explaining. “Jonathan, remember at Steve’s, when Barb cut herself?”

For a brief moment you see guilt flash across his face at the mention of that night at Steve’s, the photos he took, and he meets your eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And then, last night, the deer…”

Now you’re beginning to understand. “There was blood, wasn’t there?”

“There was,” Nancy now flips to a page about sharks, which you can’t help but frown at. Maybe you really weren’t following along. She begins to ramble about how sharks can detect the smell of blood from a quarter mile away.

“I thought I escaped all this science stuff when I tagged along with you guys instead of the boys,” you mumble, trying your best to follow along.

“The thing can detect blood, bug.” Jonathan clarifies.

“But it’s just a theory,” Nancy corrects, now turning around so that she can face him.

They stare at one another, almost as if they’ve now synched together and created a world outside of yours, and once again you feel like there’s no room for you here anymore.

“We could test it.” Jonathan says, still staring deeply into her eyes. “But if it works…”

“At least we’ll know it’s coming.”

You notice how Nancy leans in close to Jonathan, more than she once did before, as if he’s her only source of support after what happened last night. In a way, you suppose that now he is. He was the only one there last night when the monster almost got her; they went through something horrible together.

Something that creates a bond like no other.

Suddenly Nancy’s door rattles, causing you to jump in her bed while she grabs for Jonathan’s hand. You don’t hear the exchange between her and her mom, too busy reeling over the fact that Jonathan’s fingers are interlocked with hers.

Jonathan, the boy so against physical touch that the only person he lets hold his hand is you, which took almost a year of friendship to even make him comfortable with. Now here he is, holding Nancy’s hand after only a few days.

Your heart hurts.

You know it’s pathetic to be so upset over a natural reaction. Nancy has been through something traumatic and Jonathan had been the one there for her, so naturally she reached out for him. While you know it doesn’t mean anything, it still fucking hurts. You’ve always been secretly elated by the fact that you were the only one who received Jonathan’s affection, his forehead kisses and hair ruffles and his hugs.

Holding his hand has become second nature to you, long familiar now with the way his fingers feel between yours.

And now they’re between Nancy’s.

“Y/N? You still with us?”

Nancy waves a hand in front of your face, and suddenly you’re aware of how long you’ve been staring at the two of them. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m here… still here.”

“You alright, bug?” Jonathan asks, now a bit worried about you.

“Peachy!” You try desperately to make your voice light, but the nausea that hasn’t left you since last night once again threatens to make you sick. “Enough about me, though. What I’m hearing is that we need to buy some monster hunting supplies. I mean, unless we plan on beating it with my humor.”

You wink at them, and while Nancy seems reassured by your bravado, Jonathan knows better. He raises his eyebrows at you and tilts his head and you know he’s asking what’s really going on? and all you can do is shake your head in a please don’t ask any more questions or I will sob right here right now way that only he can understand.

Nancy doesn’t notice this exchange and instead gets up from her bed. “Well, if we’re going shopping for supplies then I should get ready. Y/N, I’m sure my mom will give you some pancakes if you ask.”

Right on cue, your stomach rumbles. “Thank God she loves me. I’ll smuggle some up for you, bee.”

He thanks you before you and Nancy exit the room. She heads for the bathroom while you make your way downstairs.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you’d gone upstairs!” Mrs. Wheeler greets you and immediately you’re handed a steaming plate of homemade blueberry pancakes.

Mr. Wheeler huffs. “Do we have to feed the entire neighborhood?”

“Good morning to you too, Ted.”

The man glares at you as you thank Mrs. Wheeler for the food. You make up a quick lie about working on an assignment with Nancy and that you’d prefer to eat in her room so you can finish up an equation you’d been in the middle of.

“So, may I bring it upstairs?”

“Well…” Mrs. Wheeler purses her lips, not too keen on the idea.

You give her your best and most parent pleasing smile. “I promise I’ll be careful, not a drop of blueberry will get anywhere. Scout’s honor!”

“Oh, alright. But please tell Nancy that this will only be a one time thing”

“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler.”

You leave her alone with a grumbling Mr. Wheeler and a fussy Holly.

–

Nancy is still in the bathroom when you return and Jonathan is awkwardly sitting on her bed, looking around the room as if he’s in some foreign land.

“Ya know, I’ve never been in a girl’s room before.”

“Gee, thanks.” You scoff at him, setting the plate of pancakes down on Nancy’s desk before digging in. You’re starving.

“That’s not what I meant, bug.” He flashes an apologetic smile. “Your room is just… Well, it’s not very girly, is it?”

If you hadn’t promised Mrs. Wheeler you’d be careful with the food upstairs, you would’ve thrown a piece of pancake at Jonathan’s face. “Dude, shut up.”

“Shit, sorry.” He makes his way over to the desk and wraps his arms around you as he always does. “What I meant is that this room is so pink, while yours has more comics than I can count.”

“Don’t forget Spidey posters,” you say with a mouthful of food while simultaneously handing a piece to him. “Anyways, I like pink. I think this room is lovely, honestly. I wanted to paint mine this color when we first moved, but Dustin said if I painted the room pink then he’d never hang out with me in there. Alas, I forfeited.”

Jonathan laughs and accepts the pancake. “Him and the boys have you wrapped around their little fingers. You know that, right?”

You lean against him, relishing in the feeling of his strong chest against your back. “Mmm, I know. I’m a sucker for those idiots.”

Jonathan tightens his hold around you and draws you deeper into his chest. “I know, it’s what I love the most about you.”

His words are like ice against your skin and suddenly his arms feel suffocating around you.

You clear your throat and lean forward to lessen his hold on you. “Right, well. You just love it because they listen to me and you can round them up better when I’m around.”

“It’s not just because of that, bug.” Jonathan draws you in again and you’re too weak to fight it. He rests his chin against your head. “I love how you love those around you.”

The air has become thick between the two of you.

The way you love people terrifies me, Jonathan’s words from a few days ago echo within your head.

So what’s the truth? Why is he saying all of this?

“Bee,” you bring your hands up and hold onto the arms that are still securely around you. You’re not sure what exactly you want to say, how to explain the warmth you feel for him that simmers within you when he says your name or the way it turns into a furious boil when he looks at Nancy like she’s the damn moon. “You promised you’d call last night.”

“I know–”

“I was worried about you.”

“And then I ditched you.”

“Again, might I add.”

You put her first, you think.

Jonathan sighs and places a kiss against your hair. “I know.”

A tense silence follows. Mrs. Wheeler’s wonderful pancakes now taste like cement in your mouth. God, you wish things could go back to how things once were. You miss when Jonathan could wrap his arms around you and the weight of it wasn’t so crushing with all its unspoken implications.

“I’m sorry, bug. I really, really am sorry.” His voice is strained and he tightens his hold even more, as if to remind himself that you’re still there with him. “I was so scared last night, and had you been the one taken instead of Nancy…”

“But I wasn’t. She was.” You try to keep any emotion out of your voice.

“I know… I just, I had to make sure she was okay. I promise that nothing else happened. You know that right? Just, please tell me you believe me.” His voice cracks and you finally turn around to wrap your own arms around him.

“Bee, of course I believe you.” Your words are muffled against his stomach, but he hears you. He always hears you.

You understand why he stayed at Nancy’s, you really do. But it doesn’t make the sting of it any less painful. You feel awful about what she experienced last night, no doubt forever traumatized by it, but the bitter taste of no longer having Jonathan all to yourself is something you’re still getting used to.

“You forgive me?” He asks, so faintly you almost don’t catch it.

You lift your head up and catch Jonathan’s eye. “There’s nothing to forgive, bee.”

And you mean it.

The smile Jonathan gives you as a response, the smile that has always made your knees weak, is just yet another reason why you can’t ever risk what you have with him.

–

This may come as a shock to some, but you’ve never set foot in the army supply store.

The place makes you uneasy. You’ve never been comfortable around weapons, and like you told Nancy earlier: if it ever came down to it, you’d prefer to use your charm (but mostly your wits) rather than violence. It just isn’t your thing.

While you and Jonathan wander aimlessly around, Nancy seems to know exactly what you guys need. She begins throwing things into the basket around her arm without hesitating and you exchange a look with Jonathan. Clearly it’s a good thing you’ve wrangled Nancy into this mess.

You wander some more and break away from the group, eyeing the insane amount of weapons, traps, and knives offered in the store. It’s overwhelming and you realize you have no real idea what you’ll even need. Guns unnerve you, the bat Nancy brought just seems silly to use. So what does that leave you?

Your eyes land on a knife with both its ends extended. Its handle in the center is a polished wood that’s a deep ember and the blades themselves are sterling silver that glisten in the dim store lighting. It’s a beautiful weapon.

As you reach for it to inspect it, one of the store employees, an older man, walks up behind you.

“That’s a switchblade. It was donated to us years ago.” You jump at the man’s words and he flashes you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, miss. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m just more skittish than usual this week.” You’re not sure why you admit this to the man, and when he gives you a curious look you clear your throat and change the topic. “You said this was donated?”

“Oh, yes! Here, have a feel for it.” Before you can stop him, he places the knife in your hands.

Your fingers skim over the smooth wood and you notice some words engraved in it. The letters are scuffed, presumably from age. “Was there writing on it?”

The old man’s smile becomes a sad one. “The switchblade was from this old man, he made it for his wife and claimed she loved to keep him on her toes. So, he had the word ‘button’ engraved in the handle because–”

“She always pushed his buttons?”

“Yeah,” the man laughs. “That’s exactly what she did.”

There’s a far off look in the man’s eyes, as if he’s remembering a warm summer day from his childhood; bittersweet and filled with fondness. He reminds you of your grandpa whenever someone brings up your grandma who died when you were young. You roll the blade over in your hands. “You knew the woman, didn’t you?”

“I did, but she’s long gone now,” he confirms, his voice wobbling.

“I’m sorry for your loss, sir.” You reach over and place your hand on his forearm, which he smiles at.

“Don’t be. Martha would be glad someone like you has her knife, now.”

You immediately drop your hand and try to give the switchblade back. “Oh, no, I can’t possibly take this–”

“It’s yours. You’re the only one who has paid any attention to it. I’ll show you how to use it if you make me a promise.”

Before you can argue more, Jonathan calls out from a few aisles down. “Bug? Where’d you go?”

“I’ll be there in a second, bee!” You turn back to the man. “What kind of promise are we talking about?”

“Bug and bee? Martha called me birdy because a bird swooped on me the first time I ever met her,” the old man chuckles with affection. “Anyways, promise me that you’ll use this with love. I may own this store, but violence never leaves much room for love.”

The agreement comes easily to you. “Of course.”

And with that, the old man shows you how to flip the switchblade open. It only takes a simple flick of the wrist for the blade to glide back into the handle in the center, and with another flick they smoothly glide back out once more; the way the blades move in sync leaves you in awe.

“You can use both the blades or only one, but I sense that you know that things are always stronger together.” The old man says, a glint in his eyes as he hands the switchblade back to you.

You smile at him and try it out yourself; the switchblade fits perfectly in your hand and you’re easily able to get the blades in and out. As you’re admiring the way the blades balance each other out, Jonathan appears by your side.

“Hey, ready to check out?”

You nod and thank the old man, who waves you off with a friendly goodbye.

“Who was that?” Jonathan asks once you’re out of earshot from the man.

You show him the switchblade. “You remember that theory you had about me attracting old people? You’re gonna love this.”

–

Nancy plops down bear traps, gasoline, and a multitude of other supplies she acquired while you were off talking to the old store owner. The cashier, a significantly younger looking man, looks at the three of you as if you’re insane.

“And I’ll have four boxes of the .38s.” Jonathan says, and you flash the employee your award winning smile just in case. You recognize how insane this all looks.

“What are you kids doing with all this?” The employee asks, and you Jonathan both instinctively turn to Nancy for help.

She shrugs, playing the question off well. “Monster hunting.”

The guy laughs and finishes ringing you guys up before the three of you head out to Jonathan’s car. He’s carrying most of the stuff in a box while you and Nancy start loading the bags into his trunk. You quickly help him with the box once you’ve placed your bags down.

“‘Monster hunting’?” Jonathan teases and Nancy just smirks.

“How do you think that guy would react if he knew we were telling the truth?” You snort and Jonathan can only shake his head in amusement.

Nancy laughs and bumps her shoulder against yours. “You know, last week I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like.”

Hearing Steve’s name makes you freeze. You completely forgot that Steve had been there with you last night at the Wheeler’s. He had seen Jonathan and Nancy together on her bed. You remember the anger in his eyes and your heart sinks. King Steve would never just let something like that go.

“Hey, uh, Nancy?” You try to interrupt the girl, but she’s too focused on her story.

“It took me and Barb all weekend, it seemed like life or death, you know? And now…”

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers and Y/N Henderson.”

You grab at Nancy’s jacket to try and get her attention, but she only has her eyes set on Jonathan. “Nancy, I have something to tell you–”

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or the bear trap?”

“Guys I really need you to listen right now–” Again they ignore you, lost in their own little world that you still don’t have access to.

For a moment you wonder if you even should warn them, but you know it’d be wrong not to. You could be imagining it, but your new switchblade almost seems to warm up within your pocket as if to remind you of your promise to the old man.

Nancy’s eyes shine as she looks at Jonathan and you want to scream. Now is not the fucking time. “You. It’s definitely you.”

You clap your hands in front of their faces, finally breaking the two of them out of their spell. “Hey! Assholes! Trying to save your asses!”

Jonathan bats your hands away from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Steve, he, uh…” You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how the hell you’re supposed to word this, before a car honks and some creep calls out to Nancy.

“Can’t wait to see your movie.” The boy laughs, which causes your blood to turn cold. The Hawk movie theater, where Jonathan works… In a twisted way, Steve Harrington is a fucking revenge genius.

“What the hell was that?” You hear Jonathan mumble, but your ears are ringing.

Nancy turns to you, now with distrust in her eyes. “Steve. You said his name.”

“Nancy–I, I forgot and–” You stumble over your words as the girl’s eyes harden. You didn’t mean for this to happen, you don’t know how you forgot. She doesn’t wait for you to finish whatever the hell you were about to say and starts running after the car. You’re quick to follow after her, already knowing what you’ll find.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just come on, Jonathan!” You shout behind you.

Nancy sees the board before you do and the gasp she lets out makes you want to cry for her. There, in big, ugly red letters on the Hawk’s clapperboard are the words spelling out “All the Right Moves Starring Nancy the Slut Wheeler”.

It’s an awful, awful fucking thing.

And it’s Steve’s work, you know it is.

You hear Jonathan gasp out behind you and you see the crowd that begins to form around the three of you. Everyone stares at Nancy and whispers cruel things about her and it takes everything within you not to cause a scene. How fucking dare they. They have no right. Steve had no fucking right.

In the midst of your anger you notice the tears beginning to form in Nancy’s eyes and you immediately run over to her side and grab her hand. You pull her into a hug and whisper reassurances, promising her that it’ll all be okay. She lets you hold her and you feel so fucking awful. You should’ve done more to protect her.

Then, you hear the distinct sound of a spray paint bottle rattling followed by Tommy Hagan’s screech of a laugh. Nancy tears herself from your grasp and runs into the alley where the noise is coming from. You follow after her and see Steve and his gang spraying even more things onto the Hawk walls.

There’s a steely look in Nancy’s eyes and you worry for a moment that she might hurt someone. It’s not that you don’t think it’s warranted, but you’re sure Jonathan’s boss has already called the cops on the teens and they’ll be here soon. Nancy can’t afford to get into any trouble right now.

“Nancy, I don’t think you should approach–”

She ignores you and angrily marches over to Steve.

“Hey there princess!” Carol sneers, and you have to refrain from spitting on her. Right now this is about Nancy, you need to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid and to also ensure she knows that you’re right behind her to support her. She needs to know that you’re here for her.

“Uh oh, she looks upset.” Tommy teases. When he sees you, he lets out another cackle. “Holy shit, Harrington. You were right! Henderson really is a pathetic push over if she’s here with the girl who slept with her boyfriend!”

Tommy’s words enrage you and you’re about to just say fuck it to your no violence policy when Steve shuts him up. “Knock it out, Tommy. I told you Henderson’s with us–”

Nancy’s slap catches both you and Steve off guard. Everyone gasps in shock but you start laughing, immensely proud of the girl’s strength. “Nice one, Wheeler.”

She spares you a quick glance before steering her glare back at Steve. “What is wrong with you?”

Steve clenches his jaw. “What’s wrong with me? No, what’s wrong with the two of you?”

“The two of us?” Nancy asks. Steve juts his chin in your direction and she turns around, now more confused and hurt than ever. “What does Y/N have to do with any of this?”

A lump of anxiety forms in your chest. “Nancy, I can explain–”

“I was worried about you,” Steve lets out a bitter laugh and distantly you remember saying those exact words to Jonathan a mere hour ago. You guess you understand the boy more than you may want to. “I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you.”

Nancy opens her mouth to respond but Steve cuts her off, now walking towards you. “And you… I always knew you were too nice for your own good, but defending the girl who stole your boyfriend?” He hovers over you; you can smell his expensive cologne this close as he says his next words so low that they almost come out as a whisper, “well, I expected more from you, Y/N.”

You freeze, overwhelmed with his presence. He lingers, you’ve never been this close to him, his eyes are darker than Jonathan’s and filled with more disappointment than anger. You know he can see right through you in a way that fucking terrifies you; he knows.

“What are you talking about?” Nancy exclaims, effectively breaking whatever moment was going on between you and Steve. He backs away, his eyes still lingering on yours, before facing Nancy once more.

Your words catch in your throat, still reeling from your encounter with Steve, so it’s Carol who breaks the silence. “I wouldn’t lie if I were you. You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?”

“Don’t call her that,” you manage to say, though you can’t seem to stop looking at Steve, who is looking right back at you.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy’s voice alerts you of Jonathan’s arrival. You look up and see what the idiot has written on the wall behind him.

“‘Byers is a perv’? Wow, you guys are geniuses when it comes to insults.” You snort, feeling Jonathan place his hand on the small of your back to steady you. He can sense your anger brewing.

“It’s okay, bug.” He whispers. You relax a bit into him, but you’re still fuming. Steve watches the interaction with an interest in his eyes that lets you know Jonathan’s tenderness with you has only pissed him off more.

Steve points at the two of you, looking around at his friends. “Aww, how sweet. You guys see that? Tell me, Henderson. Did he whisper sweet nothings into your ear after he slept with my girlfriend?”

Both Jonathan and Nancy speak at once. He denies you two being together while Nancy now understands that Steve had seen her and Jonathan in her room last night.

“Henderson and I both, actually.” Steve corrects, and you want to punch him.

Jonathan turns to you, guilt creeping into his voice. “You saw?”

“Now isn’t really the time, we need to help Nancy–”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.” Nancy says, looking at Steve and then you. “I promise, Y/N. Nothing happened.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, that’s what Henderon said. You just let him into your room to… study?”

“I was telling the truth.” You grit out, but Steve and the others ignore you.

Tommy steps in front of you and Jonathan. “Or for another pervy photo session?”

Jonathan steps towards the boy but you grab his jacket, not allowing him to go any further. You understand he’s angry, but just like how he won’t let you do anything stupid: you won’t let him, either.

Nancy shakes her head furiously. “We were just–”

“You were just what? Finish that sentence,” Steve steps closer to Nancy now and you find yourself preparing to step between them if needed. “Finish. The. Sentence.”

The only sound in the alley is the sound of Nancy panting. She can’t think of what to say, what can she even say? Steve won’t believe her regardless. To him, she’s already done the unspeakable and hurt him in the worst way imaginable. You feel for the two of them, no one can possibly win in this situation.

When Nancy doesn’t say anything, the angry expression on Steve’s face slips for a moment and you see the heartbroken boy underneath his mask. It happens only for a second, but you see it. You know you saw it.

“Go to hell, Nancy.” He scoffs.

“Harrington, you don’t mean that.” You say, trying to help him out. He’ll regret burning this bridge with Nancy, you can see how deeply he cares for her. He loves her, even if he can’t admit it. If he walks away now, he could lose her.

While you’re talking to Steve, Jonathan breaks free from your grasp and pulls Nancy away, which only seems to upset him more.

“You said yourself that we aren’t friends, Henderson. You don't know me. As for you, Byers, I always took you for a queer. I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father.”

Steve begins to push Jonathan now, but Jonathan has harshly grabbed your arm to pull you away. He doesn't want you involved in this, you know he just wants to get you and Nancy safely out of the situation, but you resist him anyways and try to push at Steve.

“What, you're gonna help your douche of a boyfriend?” Steve sneers at you, and Jonathan will definitely leave bruises on your arm with how tightly he has to hold you back. “Oh, yeah. That house is full of screw-ups.”

He pushes Jonathan again and this time you manage to spit at his feet. “Shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“I’m just telling the truth. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.”

Jonathan stops now. You do the same. Nancy sees this and urges you to keep walking, but you and him exchange a look. You hate violence, you really do, but the Byers family is your own family. Aside from how protective you are of them, you also know the anger that Jonathan has buried within him. If Steve keeps pushing it, you’re afraid of what Jonathan may do.

“I mean, your mom? I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother.”

You hate violence. You could never, ever hurt anyone. But you’re starting to feel really fucking close to understanding why people seem to enjoy it. “Leave his mom and Will out of this.”

Steve ignores you and continues spewing bullshit. Jonathan is tense next to you and it’s only now that you notice his clenched fists and his ragged breathing. Steve has gone too far.

“Steve, shut up!” Nancy begs as you now leave Jonathan’s side to begin pushing Steve back. A fight cannot break out. It’s broad daylight and too risky. You can’t let Jonathan put himself in danger.

“Harrington, you need to leave.” You urge him as you push against his chest, but he just gently pushes you aside and follows after Jonathan.

“But the Byers?” He keeps hitting Jonathan’s back and you have to use all your weight to pull him away. It’s no use. “Their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire–”

Jonathan’s punch lands perfectly upon Steve’s face.

In any other moment, you’d find the accuracy incredibly hot.

Instead you push the thoughts aside and rush over to him while Steve regains his composure. “Bee, listen to me. Cops could be here any second, you can’t fight–”

You scream as Steve tackles Jonathan onto the car and then the ground. Nancy begs them to stop and has to wrap her arms around you to keep you out of the fight. The sound of skin hitting skin sickens you.

“Nancy let me go,” Steve lands another punch on Jonathan and the sound his head makes when it hits the ground causes you to cry out.

“Y/N, Jonathan wouldn’t want you to jump in–”

“I have to help him!” The pure anguish in your voice is what makes Nancy finally let you go. You immediately rush over and try to pry Steve off of your friend, but he doesn’t see you approach and almost lands a blow at your face.

Jonathan sees this and grunts out, “don’t touch her,” before punching Steve in the face once more and throwing him off. They’re both standing now as Steve’s friends egg the fight on and Nancy pleads for them to stop. You tug at the boys’ clothes to try and break them apart, but you know you’re weak against them. You force yourself to think of something else, and right as you’ve formed a plan, Tommy is the one who steps in and punches Jonathan.

“Get out of here, man.” Steve yells, not wanting anyone to fight his battles for him.

You slap Tommy across the face. “Fuck off!”

The boy raises his fist to punch you and you don’t have time to do anything else besides flinch and brace yourself for the hit, but Steve intercepts it. “Tommy! I said get out of here!”

You’re in a daze as you process what’s just happened, but then Jonathan starts throwing more punches and suddenly Tommy has his arms around you to hold you back. You try to break out of his grasp, but he’s a lot damn stronger than Nancy.

All you can do is helplessly watch as your best friend beats Steve Harrington’s face in. He lands one punch, then two, then three, and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan might actually kill him.

“Jonathan! Stop!” You scream, tears now streaming down your face.

He has Steve pinned on the ground by the time the cops come.

“Shit, the cops!” Tommy lets go of you to help break up the fight right as the two officers arrive. They struggle to get Jonathan off of Steve and somehow he manages to punch one of the cops in the nose. Of course he fucking punches a cop in the nose.

You rush over to try and help, but as soon as the cops have Jonathan you feel yet another pair of arms wrap around you. You don’t know who it is, but they start to drag you away while the cops arrest Jonathan. You try to twist around to face your assailant, thrashing and kicking. “Why do you all keep grabbing me?”

“Fuck, Henderson! Stop kicking me, I’m already bleeding!” Steve groans, still carrying you in his arms as he and his friends flee the crime scene.

You struggle more against him, but you’re exhausted from your previous attempts of breaking up the fight and you’re still crying. You can’t do anything besides making it extremely difficult for him to carry you and throw out a multitude of insults and cuss words. You have to get to Jonathan.

Once they’re a few yards away, they slow down and Steve finally places you back on the ground, though his arms remain around you. You manage to free your own arms and begin punching him in the chest. “Let go of me! Jonathan just got arrested because of you!” Every word you say is followed by a punch.

“Jesus Henderson! I just saved your ass, quit it!”

“Saved my ass? You just beat up my best friend and he’s bleeding and needs my help and–”

“He’s a cheater! So is Nancy! They deserve each other and if you go back there right now you’ll be arrested and they’re sure as hell aren’t worth getting arrested over!” Steve is screaming at you and shaking you by the shoulders, urging you to understand.

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not with Jonathan? And you’re wrong! It wasn’t like that between him and Nancy, you have to understand that.” You scream back at him, faintly aware of Steve’s friends watching in the background.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Y/N.”

“You sure about that?”

“God, you’re so naive.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s always the nice ones who are the most naive.”

His words cut through you; you look him in the eyes, “Get fucked, Harrington.”

Steve lets go of you, surprised by your words while his friends gasp. “I was just trying to help.”

His voice is soft, as if he’s afraid to admit this to you, and you know that in his own way he means it. Steve had only been trying to help, but he hurt the people you love in the process. You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

You want to reach out, to grab his hand and remind him that he’s good, but you don’t.

Instead, you turn away and run back towards the alley and Jonathan.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #bless u steve and jonathan #both are a god damn MESS #anyways #PUNCH STEVE !!!#FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

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quietzap · 2 months ago

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how do you navigate your feelings towards ziam and cheryl/bear/kate/maya on top of this immense grief? i don't mean to be insensitive but i haven't found an answer for myself yet, i can't believe we'll never get answers now

(To anyone seeing this, read until the end before saying anything thank you.) Well. I'm gonna ramble a bit but bear with me. Spotify played Let Me and Common on shuffle the other day and I cried a bit. It's unfair. It should've never ended this way. But I had already accepted ages ago that we might never know the truth. I still have my beliefs. That Zayn and Liam were together. Maybe they had broken up who knows but if they did then I still truly believe their bond was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I've gone through so many emotions this past week. But seeing the posts of cheryl etcetc or people mentioning bear (Zayn was the only one who didn't fwiw), it didn't make me feel anything. Maybe bc I had already accepted we couldn't do anything about the stunts, and/or maybe bc it's still difficult for me to accept he's really gone or bc it doesn't matter to me at this moment. Or bc I haven't actually sat down to think about what it means that he's gone. I've just been thinking of the pain all of Liam's loved ones are in right now and will be in for the foreseeable future. And I include Zayn in this. I also don't really want to think about it bc I think I might get angry. We've all seen Liam's video on snapchat from last month, where he said he was stunting and forced to do things he didn't want to do and to send help. I often used to say that I didn't understand why the boys accepted this situation instead of just getting out, consequences be damned. Ofc it's easier said than done. But I thought maybe they thought it was worth it in some way. But then, Louis got out. Zayn got out. (In some way, I mean they have privacy and a real career, like Niall and Harry). I guess I will never understand why Liam was still the only one so stuck in this shitty situation. Why couldn't he live his life in peace like Zayn and only appear when he released music? Why couldn't he find a better team or why did he even accept to go along for so long? Why did people let him? Why?! That's what I want to know. Fucking why. And I want Liam's image/reputation to be redeemed. Anyway I digressed I'm sorry.

I just sincerely hope Zayn will be ok. Jaymi who was in Union J lost his soon-to-be-husband a couple months ago (Olly was buried the day they were supposed to get married last month). They'd been together for 14 years. And Olly died in similar circumstances (a fall from the 3rd floor of a hotel). And as incredibly awful as this is, knowing that other people are going through similar grief helps a bit, and I hope it will help Zayn and Liam's loved ones know they're not alone. (Edit: I'm not saying these deaths are linked, Olly's death is an accident, Jaymi was there when it happened. This paragraph is about not being fully alone in grief because other ppl go through similar things).

Idek if I've answered your question. I guess basically the stunts don't cross my mind coz it's not important to me. These past few years when Liam was alive it wasn't important (tho I hated it) bc I accepted the boys made their own choices. And now it's not important bc it won't bring Liam back and bc his loved ones matter more to me. Now, if I'm actually wrong about my beliefs then it is what it is and I feel for his exes/gf/child, and if the maya thing is true I still think addiction made him act that way and that if he'd got a chance to really get better this wouldn't have happened again. If I'm not wrong tho, I truly feel for Zayn who doesn't get to grieve the way he deserves to. Tho I'm glad he has loved ones who know the truth and who can support him the right way.

I hope this helps. Feel free to tell me if you want to discuss this further or anything ❤️

(Link to the videos of Liam from snapchat: x)

#he and they deserved so much better #anonymous #answered asks #ziam #2024

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dragonmuse · 1 year ago

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How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer

I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.

Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).

What is a dirtbag fic writer?

I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.

Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it.

How do I dirtbag?

That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean.

Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries.

Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other.

And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT. I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens. We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.

Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on?

But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!

COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T.

Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay. If you don’t, let us continue.

What does dirtbag writing look like?

It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird. It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business.

It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.)

It has mistakes.

Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there.

What if I don’t get good feedback?

Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish) is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.

You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film, (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness.

And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it? Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too!

BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck.

You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?” Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye.

If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole. Fic is no different

And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT.

Ok, but what if I don’t finish it?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it’s bad?

Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if it doesn’t make sense?

That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway.

What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms?

Then someone out there probably needs it! And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY*

*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”

You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary.

I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape.

That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.

You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there.

Go forth. Make.

You have some errors in this essay.

PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT. But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).

#dirtbagwriter

Go forth and MAKE

#writing #i'm not an expert #I just have been doing this a long time #and these are my feels #please feel free to throw away this strawberry

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kugokizs · 1 year ago

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LOWKEY | G. SUGURU (m)

It’s not easy to find a flaw within Suguru.

It's unarguable that he remains to be good at everything he does, and he’s never once done anything without putting in effort. His grades, his sports, his love life– whenever he actually wanted someone for them and not for what they could offer him. In the bedroom or otherwise.

GENRE: pwp; friends to lovers

PAIRING: suguru x afab!reader

WARNINGS: a bit of pining, friends to lovers, a game of seven minutes in heaven, cunnilingus, blowjobs, lots of kissing, inner turmoil, perfect suguru, non-evil suguru, oral sex, idek remember what else but nothing triggering!

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

A/N: It’s been so long since i’ve written literally anything so I hope you enjoy this! it’s constant suguru brain rot over here.

NOW PLAYING: sorrows by bryson tiller, lowkey by rochelle jordan, teenage fever by drake, and all night long by thuy.

It’s not easy to find a flaw within Suguru.

He always remained calm in stressful situations, often laughing things off whenever they got too serious. He’s always been able to view things with a clear head. You don’t think you’d ever seen a vengeful bone in his body, and whether that made him perfect you don’t know, but you know you admired him for his composure. That even when things were going terribly he still kept his head up as if nothing happened.

Since you’ve known him, Suguru has always been able to command the attention of a room and everyone in it. As soon as he walked in any door, heads would turn and eyes would glue themselves to him– assessing for themselves who Getou Suguru was, and trying desperately to see through him. From experience, it’s almost like the lights shine brighter, the music gets louder, and the people get happier every time Suguru is in proximity.

Since you’ve known him, you’ve always found Suguru to be perfect. His perfect laugh, his perfect eyes, his perfect lips, perfect tongue, perfect hands — since you’ve met him you’ve harbored a big fat crush on him and everything he is. It was easy to fall for him, almost as easy as tying your shoes or brushing your teeth. It was fun, finding new hidden things about him, growing closer to him, making him smile.

It was clear you were too far gone when even the line of girls coming to and from his room wasn’t enough to deter you. When you’d have an earful about his dick game at every friend hangout, when you’d watch another girl get starry-eyed at him, staring from across the room and twirling their hair in the same manner you would have if you were the most obvious person alive, and you still wanted him.

The room is packed, warm bodies thronged together, wrapping around each other and merging with one another. Your eyes scan the room, never settling on one face too long, and you cringe each time someone’s sweaty shirt sticks to your skin or wet arm grazes against yours. You’ve gotten used to these parties, to how loud they always are, how full and cramped, yet you never seem to get any more comfortable.

No one pays you much attention, finding dancing and drinking a lot more interesting than you moping around in a corner. You blend into the darkened room, you’re not in the spotlight, no one really cares what you do, and it’s comforting in a place that’s everything but. You cradle a drink in your hands, sighing at the barely there breeze floating in through the window, and finally drop your gaze down on Suguru's figure across the room. His arms stretch white fabric, pulling the material taught over tanned skin. His grins are lazy but full of mirth, and his laughs seem to carry across the room even over the loud music. It’s impossible to tear your eyes away.

You watch with a trained gaze as one of the girls from your design class wrap a hand around his shoulder and drag their fingernails along the material of his shirt, laughing breathily at everything he says. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, you really do like him, but you can’t imagine being that pathetic for a sliver of his attention. Not that you really need to, anyway, because Suguru is your best friend. When he turns his head, his eyes immediately find yours and you’d bother to look away if he wasn’t already grinning, a gleeful and mischievous thing that lets you know whatever idea he has is gonna make you miserable.

You shake your head before he can say anything, and he abandons his game to walk over to your designated spot in the corner, a smile stuck on his face as he does.

“No!” You call over the thumping music, your head shaking furiously in tandem to the rhythm of the song playing in the background. In your peripheral, hips swing back and forth to the heavy bass, everyone is all smiles, breathy laughs, and hooded eyes.

“Come play with us,” Suguru yells, bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat and mouth open in a sexy but disgusting way. His breath glosses over your skin — he’s that close — and his eyes stare down at you with something that vaguely resembles pity. Of course he’d be the only one to register that you’re standing in a corner, alone, at a party.

“I don’t like games.” You sigh, deciding to look everywhere else but at Suguru, the one person you’ve been dying to spot since you got there earlier that night. This is the best chance to stare, but it’s hard to make eye contact with him. To look at him while he stares back.

“It’ll be fun. Please? Do it for me. Satoru is over there too.”

Shit. This again?

“So what if ‘Satoru’ is over there?” You groan, rolling your eyes and finally looking back at Suguru– even if it’s only to settle him with a heavy glare.

Suguru has somehow gotten the impression that you like Satoru. Campus pretty boy, good at everything, has everyone wrapped around his finger, and 100% not your type. You don’t know what made him come to the conclusion that you’ve got a soft spot for him or why he’s so persistent in that narrative after you’ve expressed so many times that you don’t, but it’s starting to get annoying. Stop being so blind, Suguru.

“Alright, alright,” He sighs, “Just come over.”

You’re silent for another moment before whining in defeat, leaning off the wall and towards Suguru instead. It’s hard to say no to him, and though his prideful laugh makes you want to say never mind and go back to your spot against the wall, your legs keep moving forwards, swerving between couples and squeezing between groups of sweaty and intoxicated friends. The air is warm, heavy, and the drink in your hand glides down your throat like water — smooth and refreshing. It fills you with a foreign confidence and determination that allows you to make your way to the group with a smile on your face that doesn’t resemble a grimace.

“So,” Suguru starts, clapping his hands together. “We’re either gonna play seven minutes in heaven, truth or dare, or never have I ever.”

A chorus of groans sound together, and Suguru rolls his eyes, makes that shy grin he always does when he’s embarrassed. It’s so fucking cute you can’t take it. “Shut up.” He grumbles and you can’t help the lovesick smile that forms without your permission. “What else are we gonna play?”

The group circles around the table, looking at each other with eyebrows raised, but after a moment of silence (or as silent as it can possibly be at a party) it’s decided that those are the only games available at the moment. Suguru nods his head towards the stairs, something small and cute and satisfied, and the mini group makes their way upwards — looking like the beginning of an orgy. You chuckle to yourself at the imagery even though you’d never actually want to join if they ever did… that. You’re not sure they haven’t done that, the entire group — consisting of Suguru’s friends, Satoru, Toji, and Choso, and with their just as promiscuous female counterparts Jieun, Sara, and Seoyoon. Along with the guys, the girls ran through partners like cash, never stopping long enough to know more about them than their first name and their dick game.

As you file into a line in order for the lot of you to fit up the stairway, Suguru shuffles behind you— one arm wrapping around your shoulders and waist pressed against your backside. His warmth seeps through your clothes, and it almost feels like you’re both bare, skin to skin. Your breath hitches just barely, and you quicken your pace, flitting up the stairs as if there was fire licking your heels. Suguru’s arm is dislodged from your shoulder with your movement, and it almost feels like you’ve been robbed of a large teddy bear coat or your own personal heater. Your arms wrap around yourself as if to replicate the feeling, and you shuffle in the room behind Choso, Suguru closing the door behind you both.

The light is dimmer in this room, a bedroom– one of many– and the girls waste no time plopping on the bed, Sara grabbing your arm to pull you closer, patting the spot next to her and motioning for you to sit. The mattress caves in when you do, soft memory foam encasing you and making you feel as if you’re melting, drowning in fabric. The guys stand at the opposite end of the room, drinks in hand, and it really does start to feel like the beginning of a porno. You smooth your hands over your jeans, desperate to save face and not let your lips curl into the awkward grimace they so graciously deserve, when Choso takes one last swig of his beer and places it on the floor between you– the girls on one side and the boys on the other.

“I’ll take the first spin,” Choso smiles, squatting down and pinching the bottle between his fingers.

‘Wait,” Satoru interjects, floppy bang covering his eyes and full lips glistening somehow in the dim room, his button-up shirt hanging open just slightly, the first two buttons left open either for sex appeal or for the remnants of a breeze, but you can’t deny the way your eyes linger all the same. Beads of sweat run down a toned, tan chest, and the way his lips form the words– you look away just before the glob of drool gets a chance to escape your parted lips. Coincidentally, they jet in Suguru’s direction, meeting a pair of eyes that are already piercing into your own. Suguru’s jaw is tight, and even when your eyes meet his, they don’t move, staring into you as if you’ve done something wrong. You swallow, looking down at the carpet and the shoes toeing into the fabric of it. “What game are we playing?” Satoru continues, setting his cup down on the nightstand and kneeling next to Choso.

��Seven minutes?” Toji suggests, kicking off his shoes and leaning his head back against the wall. “I got an idea of who I’d like to get stuck with.”

Bold. Sara shifts next to you, a small grin showing on her face for a split second. Ew.

“Yeah,” Suguru agrees, “So do I.”

Ouch.

Whatever. You bring your knees up onto the bed, getting comfortable as the guys abandon their drinks. “Ready?” Choso asks, gazing upwards from his place on the floor as he twists the bottle.

“Ready,” the group responds in unison, followed by giggles. The bottle spins, grazing against the carpet as it slows. One end on Satoru, the other end on Seoyoon. God, it wasn’t close at all– Seoyoon is on the total opposite end of the bed, but your heart still races, beating loudly in your chest with the anticipation of it all. There’s an even number, someone will end up with someone, the question is who are you gonna end up with and what the hell are you both gonna do? The bottle spins again. Toji and Sara. Lucky. The other couple still isn’t back yet, and there’s only four of you left. This last spin determines the rest of the pairings.

It seems like the glass moves slowest this time, as if the entire thing is in slow motion. Your eyes don’t leave the bottle for even a second, and when it stops in front of you you’re scared to see who’s on the opposite end.

“Suguru!” Jieun screeches, standing up and then grabbing Choso’s arm.

Wait what. Your head snaps up, wide eyes meeting your own. Wait WHAT!? Your hands and legs shake as you stand up from the bed. Jerky and unsure movements make you look clumsy, but it’s only you and Suguru left. You can barely get a word out, mouth open and gaping like a fish, still stuck on Jieun’s confusing words. Suguru finally looks away from you, and makes his way to the door.

Oh ok. So he’s gonna leave. You can both just lie and say you did something, or come clean and say you did nothing, but you didn’t expect him to leave just like that. You guess he didn’t get the person he had in mind. Except— he doesn’t leave, and the click of the lock makes your back straighten and your eyebrows raise.

“What…” You finally whisper, your mind finally at its end. “Why would you lock the door?”

“Because… if you’ll let me, I’d spend more than 7 minutes on you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and turning your head away so that he can’t see the small smile playing on your lips. It was so corny, but you loved it. It’s the typical romance between college students, confessing that yes, they’d like to have sex with you, and honestly, it brought a delightful pang to your chest.

“Doing what?” You laugh, backing up so that the back of your knees hit the soft mattress. You don’t want to look into this more than you should. More than you’re allowed. Suguru takes a step closer, apprehensive in everything but his movements, except he becomes more and more comfortable when he realizes you aren’t moving away. You too are apprehensive, scared, but most of all you’re curious. Curious to see what he does, to see what this means.

“I’ve been waiting for a chance like this for too long.” He chuckles but the laugh doesn’t reach his eyes. And, in a matter of seconds, he’s devouring you until you’re left breathless, your lips swollen and wet. His mouth moves along the sensitive parts of your neck, down the line of your throat, while his other hand separates from your own to run down your waist and touch you where he knows you shiver with need.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

He slips his leg between your parted ones, allowing you to settle down right on top of his muscular thigh. As the kiss grows deeper, your hips begin to move, gyrating and pressing down against him. As your bodies move with one another, your pleasure continues to rise, forming from your center and spreading over your body.

You gasp, but it’s swallowed up by Suguru’s mouth all over again. You let your hands slide up the back of his loose t-shirt. Your skin is warm, and Suguru hums into your mouth when he moves closer, your chests pressing together with each movement.

You think Suguru ends up ripping the buttons of your shorts open, too desperate to waste time unbuttoning them, and you’ll probably be annoyed later—but now, you sigh, finding his urgency unfairly attractive. Suddenly, Suguru’s lips are pulled away from yours and you whine loudly, chasing after him. You succeed, biting at Suguru’s bottom lip to get him to open up again, but it doesn’t last long.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

You blink once in response before a fire ignites in your groin. The whimper that leaves your mouth fills the silent room and you almost drop down on the ground, finding that sentence way too attractive. Is this what you want? Of course it is. So you nod vigorously, after knowing what his lips feel like on yours you don’t ever want to endure another moment of them apart.

“Words, lovely,” He grins, amused by your enthusiasm.

“Yes, Yes.”

Suguru grins, you’re pushed back gently, and Suguru pecks at your lips repeatedly until you feel your back hit the soft, blanketed mattress. Then, like every girl’s wet dream, the beautiful man is grabbing your hands to hold by your head.

Suguru then proceeds to kiss the shit out of you, your lips crashing together, ravishing you until your lungs clench and a moan falls from your lips. You desperately try to avoid bucking your hips upwards into him, but fail again and again. Eventually, Suguru drags his mouth away, trailing it down your neck. You’re gasping against him, and you curl into his touch, whimpering when sharp teeth nip at you. There’s a tongue soothing the wound, sucking at the same spot, lapping over it. You can feel yourself starting to shake, whimpering more often than not, before you’re yanking your hands free from Suguru’s hold and dragging his face back up. You can feel Suguru smiling into it, chuckling just the tiniest bit, but he resumes kissing you.

He holds his gaze on yours when you fall apart, relaxing your body while the pulsing of your orgasm courses through you. He leans down into your arms right after, pressing tightly against your chest, so tight that you could feel his heartbeat pacing fast against yours. The kisses he gives you are soft and gentle, your thighs still trembling when he pulls away, pulling his gray t-shirt over his head.

The unmistakable shape of his erection that you feel brushing against your stomach lets you know just how turned on he is, and you equally so. His lips return to yours only after he has stripped himself, and your hands move from his shoulders to his chest, trailing down his naked skin, where you slide your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

No way this is happening.

You lean forward, switching positions and taking him into your hand from under his clothes. He’s heavy, full of cum, and you slide your body down so that your mouth is right against his cock. You leave a kitten lick on the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins and the way Suguru throbs. He’s a pleasant weight on your tongue and you swirl it around the tip before sucking him into your mouth.

Still with your eyes on his face, you lean closer, kissing his sensitive tip before fitting your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth again. You hear him gasp before it turns into a deep groan, sucking and licking as you take him deeper.

Suguru sighs, his hand gripping your hair and forcing you down onto him. He fucks your mouth like all you are is a toy for him to use. Every time he inches you down onto him you can feel his skin against your nose and hear the spit fucking back in your throat. Your eyes lose focus as Suguru continues to rut into you, abusing your throat like it was nothing. Your body buzzes from the sensation and you feel hot all over, allowing him to use you the way he wants. His low growl vibrates down to your core and you resist the urge to reach down and stroke your fingers to search for your own pleasure, choosing to focus on pleasing him instead.

His lips fall open with a few deep grunts escaping his soft lips, his hips moving faster as he pumps himself into your mouth. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

Your fingers dig into his thighs and you whimper around him, the vibrations from your throat making his body spasm as he nears his orgasm. You pull off of him, your lips swollen and red, slicked with spit and pre cum.

“On my face,” you rasp, your throat scratchy and hoarse. “On my face Suguru, please. I’ve been good.”

Woah, where did that come from (???)

Suguru’s movement becomes harsh as he pumps himself, his speed growing rapidly, and you see him twitching, his girth widening, before he pumps his cum onto your face with a long, drawn-out, groan.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs, watching you take his cum into your mouth. His thumb brushes back and forth over your cheek, relishing to the way your body leans into his touch. “You have no idea how many times I wished I could take you like this, do every sinful thing I could think of until you’re screaming out my name. How much I’ve wanted to see you on your knees like this.”

All you can feel is his touch, his fingers tweaking at your nipples and his lips that keep moving down and kissing the skin of your breasts that spill over your bra. He pulls his hand, the one that has been kneading at your breasts, and trails it down. He strokes his tongue over your skin while his free hand moves lower, and lower, slipping under your shorts to find your clit.

He traces down your panties, soaked with your arousal, running over the lace and moaning at the feeling of it clinging onto you. His thumb follows the wet trail on the flimsy fabric to find your opening, hardly shielding you from his touch. He twists his hand while he continues to press his thumb in circles over your covered entrance, his fingers find your clit, and then he pinches, hard, sending you over the edge a second time and into one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

You squirm at the feeling of your release, his fingers slowly peel the scrap of black lace down your thighs, making a show out of it while he makes you wait. He continues to tease you, staring you down as he makes a show of peeling the fabric down your legs. You slip your feet from them as he pulls them off, and you watch him lift the lace to his face. Inhaling deeply, breathing you in. His lashes flutter, and the view of him taking you in so shamelessly makes you shudder.

He drops the fabric in the next moment, looming over you with hooded eyes, and leans down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. He continues to kiss you as he spreads your legs apart, holding them down with heavy hands. With your pussy so wet, his fingers slide easily through your folds, and he can feel just how wet you are, but the way you clench and throb around him makes him moan deeply. His lips find your hips, then he moves down, running his mouth down your legs, taking time to trail along your thighs, your calves, your ankles, and keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

You let out a gasp at the first stroke of his tongue over your clit. Your legs lift a little, but Suguru presses them back down, keeping you in place— keeping you right where he wants you.

“Don’t move, baby, be good for me, ok?”

You can’t reply, just running a shaky hand through his hair as you cry out at the feeling of his tongue resuming its ministrations on your throbbing core. You can’t do much but moan and sigh, an incoherent mess from Suguru’s mouth. It’s funny to you, how he has you shaking from under him, building you up and then breaking you down with immense pleasure— a feeling that you can barely think around.

You hear his soft chuckle as he gives you a few more kisses with his tongue, tasting you, before he looks up again and whispers, “I’ll make sure you fall apart around me.” And he’s determined to make good of his words. His grip tightens on your thighs, as the swipes of his tongue grow more intense. He sucks at your clit, pressing his tongue against you to send you into your third orgasm.

Your hips move desperately against his face, hopeless in your need for more. Chasing pleasure with each roll of your hips and his head buried in your heat. You spasm, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you cum, soaking his tongue with your release and closing him in with your thighs. He doesn’t stop, sucking your clit in his mouth and using his tongue to lap up every bit of your orgasm. You cry out in protest, your body squirming away from his touch as instinct but the grip on your thighs doesn’t let up.

“Suguru please, oh god.”

His chest shakes with a chuckle, rising up and slotting himself between your thighs. You want him, more than anything, no matter what. He kisses the corner of your lips, smiling against your mouth. As he continues to litter kisses against your skin, he presses his cock against your clit, rubbing his hard length up and down your pussy, coating himself with your arousal. The next time he pulls himself back from you, he only does it briefly— and when he pushes himself back it’s with a thrust into you hard and fast, nearly bringing you to another orgasm despite you coming down from your third.

Your thoughts leave you as he continues to move in and out of you, filling you up and satisfying you the way he always does, except now it's in a different way. Your walls contract as he slams into you deeper, lifting your legs and situating them against his shoulders. He buries himself so deep inside it’s almost like he’s melded himself into you. He’s so big, you can barely breathe, allowing him to bring pleasure to you both as he moves.

He moans, his voice raspy with need, as he pumps his cock in and out of you.

Your mouth falls open, overwhelmed with satisfaction. You can only focus on the feeling of his cock dragging against you, his tip hitting so hard it feels like he’s moving around your organs. He pounds into you, not allowing anything but lewd moans to leave your lips for even a moment. His harsh groans and your airy sighs fill the room, slaps of his skin against yours lewd and wet. “Oh god, I’m gonna—”

Your words become nothing but a moan when his thrusts don’t falter and instead pick up. You don’t know how he’s managing to keep going, how he’s managed to move even quicker.

"Come on, baby," he whispers, clenching his jaw, letting you know that he’s on the brink of orgasm. Suguru bends down, taking your lip into his mouth, tugging and sucking and making you sigh in bliss. Then his fingers come down to find your clit, sending you erupting into an earth-shattering orgasm.

The next thing you know Suguru is groaning above you, his body going lax against you and his cum shooting into you forcefully, making you clench harder around him. Suguru whimpers as he continues to cum, again and again, releasing into you and painting your walls.

No way he just did that.

Suguru sighs, his hair brushing against your naked skin, and he presses a soft kiss against your collarbone. His lips rest there as you both come down from your high, basking in the glow of your orgasms and relishing in the presence of each other.

He pulls out of you, dragging his tip against your wet folds, before littering kisses against your face. Small pecks that tickle with the gentle force of them, and you giggle, running a hand through his soft locks.

Your chest heaves with the force of your breaths but otherwise your body feels light, airy, and any negative thought you’d entertained before is completely gone in lieu of the sex you and Suguru have just had, the mutual understanding you’ve created with the meshing of your bodies.

“I thought you’d be upset with me,” Suguru murmurs.

“Never.”

You trace your fingers against his skin, tracking his breathing and basking in his warmth. Your fingers slide through the grooves in his abs, tracing shapes over his collarbone, and tweaking his nipple just for Suguru’s barking of a laugh when he shoves you away saying that it tickles. You lean your forehead down so that it’s resting just near Suguru’s armpit, hairless like usual, and inhale— breathing in his scent, his proximity, him. He's perfect, and he’s yours, no matter what.

You’ve always wished for the closeness and transparency of a trusting relationship— have always wondered if you’d be able to get that, if you’d be able to keep it— and Suguru is proof that you have. It feels good to know that there are no secrets, no doubts or worries, and that there can only be acceptance between the both of you. A secureness that would be hard to find anywhere else. It fills you with butterflies, but it makes you incredibly happy to know that those feelings will remain, and you can only hope it'll stay that way forever and always.

When Suguru runs his hand down your back, reaching below the covers to squeeze your ass, you huff, poking him in the chest as a warning. Yet you know, and Suguru knows, that it makes you happy that you have this. A home, a person who loves you just as much as you love him, and a trusting relationship.

Suguru likes this familiarity. Laying down with you, bare emotionally and physically, and unworried about being judged or ridiculed. It feels good, it satisfies him more than he ever thought it could, and makes a comfortable, warm, feeling bloom in his chest. He inhales— taking in the scent of you and your proximity, and he smiles.

“Hey!” The sound is muffled, “Why’d you guys lock the door!?”

And that’s the end! I feel like it’s a bit rushed and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoyed!

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izzabela · 3 months ago

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hiiiii can you write something about Sektor with a fem reader? Maybe Sektor in a secret relationship with a concubine

Breaking Tradition - Sektor (MK2023) x fem!reader

in which Sektor is in love with a dream

a/n: school sucks

ship[s]: sektor x fem!concubine!reader

warning(s): shorter fic than usual, uhhh bi han has many wives???, LESBIANS, semi-angst??, idek anymore...

- concubine!reader, who's but a lowly concubine for the Lin Kuei and the grandmaster. who doesn't get much recognition because she is the fifth wife already

- concubine!reader, who often spends her days alone, only with her few servants. who reads to pass the time, who embroiders and does anything to make her busy and forget how lonely she is

- concubine!reader, who meets Sektor during an off-chance you came out of your room to speak with the grandmaster, who sees the red-armored ninja assassin's mask up and smiling, and you fell in love

- Sektor, who sees the rare, fifth wife of her grandmaster out and about, not cooped up in her room. Sektor, who wonders why you hide yourself away when you shine radiantly like gold in the sun

- Sektor, who is out everyday to try and see you, concubine!reader, and speak with you. Sektor, who's infatuated with you, yet you hadn't spoken a word to her

- concubine!reader, who asks Grandmaster Bi Han the schedule of all the assassins training. when asked why, concubine!reader says its to be more involved (Bi Han is skeptical, but gives it to you anyways)

- concubine!reader, who comes out of her room at the scheduled times to watch Sektor train. And Sektor, who now sees you during her training hours in the corner of her peripheral vision as she spars and practices her moves

- Sektor, who flies up to the second floor of the palace to talk to you when done sparring. Sektor, who introduces herself to you with her confident smile and confident attitude

- Sektor, who talks to you during her breaks so she can get to know you. Sektor, who walks with you when you are about to retire for the night

- concubine!reader, who writes Sektor anonymous poems about her using the color red as a synonym to her. concubine!reader, who carefully slips these notes to her carrier bird to deliver to the window of her room

- concubine!reader, who receives notes from Sektor as well, poems that talk of stars and their eternal radiance. concubine!reader, who realizes it's about her

- Sektor, who eats with you now that you've begun to wake up earlier to catch her even before training. Sektor, who begins to touch you during these quiet moments where no one is around

- Sektor, who is spoken to by Bi Han about personal space within the clan, and knowing one's place. Sektor, who begins to put a distance on you just when she began to close it

- concubine!reader, who is confused when Sektor does not talk to you as much. concubine!reader, who only gets short and cordial answers from the iron-clad ninja

- concubine!reader, who still receives love poems from Sektor, though they are more daring and a bit raunchy. concubine!reader, who reads more poems about Sektor wanting to do more than talk and hug you

- Sektor, who's dying inside due to the wall she's put up to protect you and herself. Sektor, who dreams of a world where you and her can live freely and as yourselves and together

- Sektor, who realizes she needs to extinguish this fire before it burns her completely. Sektor, who also wants the flames of your love to eat her alive

- Sektor, who sticks to reality and puts out this fleeting love of hers. Sektor, who ceases all forms of contact with you and lets you return to your wealthy, yet solitary life within the Lin Kuei palace

- concubine!reader, who's devastated that the only love and happiness you ever got had left you like autumn leaves blown in the wind

- concubine!reader, who moves on with life and returns to her solitary ways of self-confinement and loneliness

- concubine!reader, who occasionally reads the poems and declarations of love that she once received

- concubine!reader and Sektor, who realize they were in love with a dream

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

something something something sektor is a closeted lez

something something something have some sad lesbians

aight, see yall in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #x reader #mk1 2023 sektor #sektor mk1 #sektor x reader #sektor x you #sektor x fem!reader #mk1 sektor #mk1 sektor x you #mk1 sektor x fem!reader #mk1 sektor x reader #ask izza #izza answers

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the-fat-raccoon · 2 years ago

Text

🌌 astro-gnomey Follow

Some of you don't want to hear it but at some point we're going to HAVE to acknowledge the effects of storm sorcerers (and keiromancy as a whole) on the environment. The wizard council has been pushing for regulations on these practices for years due to its large ecological effect on the realm, and yet it still stays unregulated because of misinformed petitioners who insist on preserve this harmful practice.

x x x

🌬 420haz3it Follow

hey ops ex here. they literally went through my family's tome of spells and destroyed every page that contained keiromancy. spells that were in my family since the Wizardry Renaissance, that saved towns from floods and droughts alike, are now lost to time and space

also as people in the notes pointed out all of those links are blatant misinformation that ignores what storm sorcerers have done to protect not only their local communities but the environment as a whole for centuries, and the people who spread this information are the exact same people who advocated to repeal the wishing star protection act.

hating keiromancy has always been a distraction so astrological mages can push for more unsafe practices in their own field. don't let them lie about their intent, and don't let the wizard council rush the process to earn an astromage liscense.

🪄 tradmage12 Follow

Being from a family of storm sorcerers puts a direct line from you to the Great Calamity that wiped out our magic for a millenia. You deserve to lose that tome and every last spark of magic in you.

🌬 420haz3it Follow

what

🌬 420haz3it Follow

theres no way youre serious. you dont actually believe that.

🪄 tradmage12 Follow

We all know it, the Great Calamity would have never happened if the sorcerer faction had listened to the wizard councils orders and steered clear of dragon hunting. But they didn't listen, and everyone suffered because of it. Don't act like there's no reason to not trust your kind with their own practices. You just can't help yourselves.

🌌 astro-gnomey Follow

I leave for the Berry Harvest and come back to this mess, really funny how you'll mention me taking action against your family's evil dark spells but don't mention that you only dated me for your weird gnomeplay fantasies. Also pay attention to the language used, very Anti Mage rhetoric being spread. What else would you expect of a storm sorcerer, of course they want to keep their powers, I'm going to shut off reblogs if people in the notes cant see how they're being manipulated by keiromancers. Quit trying to be 'progressive' when you just want to keep ruining the course of nature and keep down the mage class.

🌬 420haz3it Follow

get me off this fucking lichsite. there is no 'anti mage rhetoric', that's not a fucking thing. mages aren't some repressed class no matter how much you want to pretend that, they haven't had to deal with magical restrictions since before the great calamity even happened, meanwhile sorcerers to this day are still fighting to be seen as magical equals.

and while im at it 'keiromancers' is a made up term to put all weather magic users under one umbrella, as if forms of keiromancy arent so diverse amongst the realms that you cant even begin to compare them. it is not the same as saying necromancers. dont even start that bs.

also, gnomeplay is perfectly normal and acceptable between consenting partners, which we were, so idek why you bring that up. if i as a half elf want to have gnome partners theres literally no issue with that, youre mad because gneillielle has a more bountiful gourd harvest and far more whimsical tunes than you ever brought to our relationship.

storm sorcerers have done nothing wrong, you're the problem.

perhaps some shadow work could unlodge the staff youve got stuck up your cap and you could see the filthy fuckign system youre supporting as an astromage, im sick and tired of this.

🎱 claire-vances-fourth-eye Follow

op starts posting untagged wizard council x reader failed abjuration content in a year btw

5,482 notes

#fake post #unreality #tw unreality #ask to tag #wizardposting #wizardblr #inspired by my good friend pig and their occeanblr posts :3

457 notes · View notes

beiibeiii · 9 months ago

Note

Kafka Angst, delicious, thankyou for the food. Okay this was from 11:49-12:21 jeez im tired.

Anyways, here’s thing for you!

“…I remember one morning it was just like any other, you brought coffee and I brought sweets. I remember, you spilled a little of my coffee on the table and made a surprised sound, but despite that, you looked up at me and you laughed. Your eyes were shining in the morning light— In hindsight really.. They’d always done that. A little bit brighter, with the golden sun. That’s the moment I realized I was really truly hopelessly in love with you. I told myself it was a longer mission than usual. That’s all, and yet I couldn’t stop liking you past our little meetings in the morning. I couldn’t help but want to ask more and more about yourself, the silly, little details unrelated to Elio’s script.”

At least, that’s what Kafka would like to say to you. Instead she watched through your window as you cried. Illuminated only by moonlight. It looked as though a meteor shower might be streaking across your face— quick and bright slashes. A sky full of grief, guilt, longing. Kafka couldn’t help but vaguely wondering if you must mirror her own feelings so well. Kafka was a formidable woman, that wasn’t a secret to anyone. What she wanted, she would eventually obtain. However everything else she had taken now seemed so.. Little in comparison to you. So worthless. The one thing Kafka wanted, craved— No. The one thing she needed, she couldn’t have. You. A little bit of water splashes her face. Unsurprising, there’s thunderclouds rolling overhead. Rain was bound to come sooner or later. The water rolls down her cheek, to the corner of her mouth. It takes a moment to register in her brain it’s salty, and the rain has not yet begun to fall.

She looks down at her hands, those hands that have felled many. Her tongue, which has been used to manipulate peoples minds into showing them horrors to last a lifetime, that tongue that has spit thousands of lies. Her eyes, which have watched on as an opponent met a slow, agonizing end. The eyes that showed a frenzied glee at the suffering. How could she ever be worthy of you? The shining bright light in the universe who could never be dimmed. One so pure and precious. She felt her chest tighten in shame. She could never wash the blood from her hands, it stained her entire being. Deep in her mind, a maze to all (even herself) she knew that if given the chance to cleanse her sins, she probably would not take it.

So the Stellaron Hunter turns, quickly scaling her way down to the bustling streets before you might see that familiar shape crouching across the way. Your eyes make their way to the window as you see quick movement, but as fast as it appeared it disappears just as well. And a drop of water hits the glass. And another. Until your window is pelted with the sky’s tears, and the sidewalks are a black mass of umbrellas.

I hope this was this much 🤏 entertaining to you

WHAJHSGD ANONIE?? THIS IS SO AMAZING WAAA IDEK IF I CAN ADD TO IT BC ITS ALREADY PERFECTT!! IM GETTING FED SO WELLL SHJSSJ SOBBING KAFKA ANGST HITTING TOO HARD RN AJSJSJS SHES SO BABYYY I WANNA HUG HERR 😕💗

kafka wears gloves to try to hide the blood that has stained her hands to try to make herself feel better :(

kafka probably has you as a live wallpaper on her phone. she would press down on her phone and the short video of you on that flower field would play. your smiling brightly as the rays of the sunset glowed so beautifully on you. lighting up your smile even more. she looks at it with a bittersweet memories as she reminds herself as to why she joined the stellaron hunters - to understand herself to be a better person and see that beautiful smile on your face everyday. :(

she listens to voice messages or watches videos she has saved of you whenever shes stressed. hearing your voice and the way you smile at her clears her head. calming her down. she can't help but grow a little tired of hearing the same videos and voice recordings. shes determined to get some new ones soon. <3

whenever you post on your snapchat stories, instagram, tiktok, any social media platform, kafka is always on an anonymous account. she constantly comments sweet things under your posts.

"hope you had fun <3"

"so beautiful, like always dear 💗"

"such a pretty smile you have :)"

kafka doesnt even try to change the way she writes to make you not catch on. she likes your posts and is usually the first one to see them too. You can't help but sense the familiarity of the way the commenter writes their comments. its ever so awfully familiar as to how kafka types. you want to believe it but you know its not her :(

kafka secretly hopes you recognise that its her. she knows it won't happen, but she will still keep believing that you will <3

#bei randoms #bei replys #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #kafka honkai star rail

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indelicateink · 5 months ago

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so today i fell down a rabbit hole with The Vampire Lestat. @aquarines made a good post noting rolin saying TVL will only be one season. which got me sitting down with the book to see how they could possibly speedrun this bad boy to cram it into 8 episodes (worst-case scenario; 15 if there’s a god).

idk about you guys, but I could squeeze it into a tight 9 episodes, MAYBE (estimates below)? BUT: I didn’t account for the present-day stuff, which would surely push it over 9 episodes by my outsider guesses(/wishes; I didn’t make huge cuts, just modest ones). and i adore you, lestat, but the present-day stuff is also hugely important to me. bc although the book is almost wholly autobiography of lestat’s past, they’ve promised us Louis and Daniel and Armand aren’t going anywhere. so they’ll surely be bringing in other plot from the rest of the chronicles, and possibly hints of Talamasca things bc of the sister show...?

like. the beginning of TVL's a piece of cake--

Downtown Saturday Night in the Twentieth Century - 1984

All exposition. Hi I’m Lestat and I’m a vampire and a rockstar. How I woke up from my long sleep. How I started my band. Omg the 20th C, I love it. Interview With the Vampire is a book that exists? Okay: here are some opinions.

This can be massively condensed to an exchange with Daniel, so that’s…16 pages down. Out of 481.

but the central part of the book–

(putting this wild ride behind a cut for book spoilers)

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part I: Lelio Rising (44 pages [hardback])

lol THERE’S SO MUCH, THIS WHOLE CENTRAL “TEEAAOTVL” SECTION COULD BE THE WHOLE SEASON ALONE NO COMING UP FOR AIR, LBR. but it can’t be, so:

his early life/whole childhood summed up. shitty family, the running away, Gabrielle intro/characterization.

the wolves.

meeting Nicki, the romance (if they’re speedrunning, this is probably half montage and we possibly won’t get the witches’ place, his existential crisis, etc??), then peacing tf out from Auvergne.

starting life w Nicki in Paris, joining the theatre, falling in love with acting, signs of strain with Nicki.

hey, I’m being stalked.

Maybe they do a lot of implying with his early childhood/family situation and just jump right to the wolves; 23 minutes for Nicki and their romance; then boom Paris and hello theatre. 1 episode? [or, A BRUTAL EDIT: 5 minutes my life/family sucks beyond the telling, 5 minutes for the wolves, 10 minutes for Nicki, okaylet’sgotoparishii’minparisilovethetheater!! 10 minutes. In a 44-minute episode (why not), we now have 14 minutes for the present day.]

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part II: The Legacy of Magnus (60 pages)

massively important part of the book.

abduction by Magnus, death/rape/turning by Magnus

learning being a vampire, learning how to be rich, rediscovering Paris & haunting/tainting his former life and Nicki, getting his newfound wealth/shit squared away with his attorney Roget, meeting Armand and the coven.

Gabrielle has come to Paris to die.

THIS IS LIKE 2--3 if life loves me--EPISODES RIGHT HERE. idek, the professionals will make this work.

realizing it's interesting louis told lestat's origin story to the whole world (unlike the books, where it's in lestat's book). the story louis had to practically pry out of him. lol uh hope the guy was okay with that.

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part III: Viaticum for the Marquise (47 pages)

Gabrielle, Gabrielle, Gabrielle.

death/turning, learning to be a vampire along with the guy who doesn’t know how to be a vampire yet.

fighting with armand and the coven. armand stalking this guy like JOIN MY COVEN YOU TOTALLY WANT TO BE WITH ME JOIN MY COVEN, SON OF A BITCH WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING— meanwhile lestat is like…I admit this guy is super hot, but maybe a tool?

the coven abducts nicki (who lestat has been avoiding post-vampirism): lestat is officially done with this shit.

god they could make this 1 episode if they REALLY burn rubber, but it should be 2 because there’s so much to cover, and you know lestat would want Gabrielle alone to be like 3 episodes at the very least, lol. they might really change the coven stuff based on what they did in S2, which saves some time. [or, A BRUTAL EDIT: 20 minutes for gabrielle to die, be turned, the novelty of becoming a vampire, woo incest on main. 10 minutes of the coven pestering them and armand coming on heavy with the mind gift and obsessive stalking. 1 minute for omg Nicki kidnapped! we now have 13 minutes for the present-day.]

section 2, part IV. The Children of Darkness (52 pages)

the coven abducts lestat and gabrielle. Lestat’s devastating powerpoint for the coven that their life is a lie and they’re full of shit. existential crisis! the coven collapses. Lestat & Gabrielle drop the mic and leave with Nicki.

Nicki’s deranged from being a vampire chew toy and wants to be a vampire. Lestat only knows how to make really good, reasoned decisions, so ofc he turns him. that relationship implodes. Gabrielle teaches Nicki how to vampire.

okay, deep breath: Armand destroys everyone in the coven who doesn’t escape, Lestat encourages those vampires to figure out the new century, Armand preternaturally studies up on How To Be A Person In This Century (lestat describing him as insect-like as he consumes the contents of a library), Armand is STILL trying to seduce lestat via stalking, shit goes to hell between lestat and nicki and the theater of the vampires is created with Nicki and the former coven members (and later armand)

THISISSOMUCH. that could be like half a season right there. but! they could TOTALLY elide almost all the stuff with the coven here because it’s not hugely important to lestat’s arc? they already filmed lestat breaking it up (from armand’s POV) in s2. the focus of this part could be the relationship with nicki reaching its extinction-level event. okay. it’s not undoable that this is 1 episode, pooooossibly less with merciless cutting. [or, A BRUTAL EDIT: 12 minutes to refute Armand’s version—telling the coven to wake up to themselves and get a life off in the TdV, how Lestat didn’t tap the gremlin…idk, this blends pretty well into the next part. Maybe 24 minutes if they crush the Armand bits in this section with the next section. 7 minutes for the Lestat/Nicki implosion. We now have 1 minute for the present-day.]

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part V: The Vampire Armand (41 pages)

before there was The Vampire Armand the novel, there was this entire section of Lestat’s book.

aaaand it starts out with armand seducing lestat with the mind gift (granted, you sense this was not super needed because lestat was already smitten, but armand is practical if nothing else), and he proceeds to either rape lestat or just drink off him by force, depending on how we’re reading that. lestat breaks the spell and fights him off, and beats the entire snot out of him in front of a crowd of party-goers in the rain.

then lestat and gabrielle take armand back to their place, because—lestat’s still fond of him! LMAO PEOPLE HE REALLY IS A WEIRDO, I CANNOT EXPRESS WHAT A VILLAIN CUT WE GOT IN S1

to hugely sum up: armand’s past, lestat learns marius exists and becomes obsessed that someone could be a Functional Vampire, armand reallyreallyreally wants to hang with lestat (and gabrielle) for eternity but they are like. pal. your thirst is destructive. a world of no. you gotta go figure out how to live in the world on your own.

okay here we get into total unknowns on how amc wants to handle this. do they devote an entire episode to armand now, or save it for his own interview? god, in deference to limited S3 time I bet they don’t go deep into his backstory beyond quickly dropping the vital marius info? this entire part V is potentially a whole-ass episode, though, buuuuut I feel like they could squeeze a decent amount of present-day stuff in that ep, too.

it would be objectively hilarious if lestat started to tell armand’s story and armand threw the shit fit of all time and they decided to skip it. (for now.)

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part VI: On the Devil’s Road from Paris to Cairo (34 pages)

okay thank god we’ve come to a part that it would be easy(?) to majorly cut if need be. gabrielle & lestat travel, existential questions are asked, lestat searches for marius leaving giant carved-in-stone letters to him all over the place like a lunatic, gabrielle gets more and more restless/distant.

what’s important here: we learn about armand cutting off nicki’s hands, and nicki’s suicide.

oh, and that gabrielle sat on a letter for some time about how all of lestat’s mortal family except his father were murdered in the revolution, because she hoped he’d go off to the jungle with her or…idk, some fuckin thing, it’s wildly selfish.

anyway, lestat and gabrielle make their bittersweet split, and lestat is so depressed from everything that's happened that instead of going to new orleans as planned (his father had fled there), he goes into the earth to sleep for awhile.

then: hi marius. (AR does love her cliffhangers)

I mean. bullet points are: nicki’s death explained in a letter and lestat’s family’s death explained in a letter and gabrielle’s departure and marius’s entrance. It’s possible it’s not a whole episode. idk how fast they need to move, though.

The Early Education and Adventures of the Vampire Lestat: Part VII: Ancient Magic, Ancient Mysteries (109!!!!! pages!!!!)

okay. to sum: marius takes him home, we learn marius’s story (more to come in the Blood and Gold novel), we meet Akasha/Akasha allows Lestat to drink from her, Enkil is pissed, Marius asks Lestat leave (friendly) and hey, threatens to fuck his shit up if he tells anyone/any fledglings about the existence of Marius & Akasha & Enkil et al (not so friendly lol). this…matters later. as you know.

Lestat arrives in New Orleans.

lol SORRY MARIUS YOU FUCKO, WE CAN TOTALLY CUT MOST OF YOUR STORY FROM S3, YOUR CHAPTER IS MASSIVE, LOL. i honestly think they have to cut his big backstory except for an outline, jesus. we are so pressed for time. (i don’t truly hate you, marius, but christ you’re a pompous dick who has caused so much suffering.) but yeah, they’re going to have to keep in how he came to be caregiver for Akasha and Enkil and all that. It’s the Marius Mystique Episode. Anyway, the Akasha/Lestat here is HUGELY important, so that and Marius…this is all an episode’s worth at the very least.

Epilogue: Interview with the Vampire (16 pages)

jesus

this part is devastatingly sad.

“But my story isn’t finished, no matter how reluctant I might be to continue it. And I must consider, at least briefly, the painful events that led to my decisions to go down into the earth in 1929.”

here lestat touches on the events of IWTV very briefly; he’s far kinder speaking of louis in his book than louis was speaking of lestat. (also, ofc, when AR wrote IWTV she didn’t know TVL was coming. lestat has to poke holes in some things: yes, we were in love, explicitly [“Read between the lines.”]; louis didn’t know how gorgeous he was; omg I was down bad; I was wealthy and he didn’t understand that; we were doomed, I was selfish; I cursed claudia when I condemned her to that body and I deserved everything that came to me, I did it because I wanted to, I don’t regret our family; I don’t blame her for killing me, “it was the sort of thing I might have done myself”; our family was together almost 70 years, which is very long for vampires to stay together, apparently (note: the show gave this to armand and louis instead: don’t even talk to me right now?); but “little things like this don’t really matter. He told the tale as he believed it.”)

something important that I hope/anticipate they’ll come back to is lestat then challenging the events of the trial and armand’s betrayal. it’s an order of magnitude more fucked up in the book for lestat than how it seemed to play out in s2? so i’m not sure what to expect in the s3 POV.

and then: lestat goes to rot in nola, and eventually goes into the earth. before he goes underground armand visits him here in the 20th C to whine that louis—who, okay, I lied, is alive, and he didn’t know you were alive either bc I lied to him, too—has left armand after all these years together and btw lestat, can I hit? I know you’re busy rotting in your depression hovel, but I really, really could use the d right now. aaaand lestat tells him to go suck a fuck. (I guess we're leaving all that out, though.)

So it's only 16 pages, but this seems pretty important given that lestat’s POV on s1 and s2 seems kind of promised? and a counterweight to the villain edit he's had for the past couple years? do they condense this to 1 episode or pepper it throughout?

Dionysus in San Francisco - 1985 (28 pages?!)

ROCKSTAR LESTAT! aside from the parts of 1984 in the very beginning, this narrow chapter is all that actually exists of rockstar lestat!! rolin, please give us a healthier meal than this. I trust you on this implicitly.

so: vampires internationally threatening lestat and his band, rockstar lyfe, brief reunion with louis (shamefully SHORT), hey it’s the big concert, shit happens, oh shit it’s Gabrielle saving the day!, okay let’s adjourn and regroup tomorrow this has been a wild ride, OH NO AKASHA— finis.

I’m assuming this is threaded throughout s3, heavy on the final episode. the louis part we already know will be different--they've had a reunion.

idk how all that works, but I have total faith they’ll make good television.

I am baffled, on the face of it, how they pull in Louis—unless they get creative with blending in the other books NOW.

frex they could OPEN the season just dumping us in with Lestat at Marius’s island where he/we meet Akasha and touch briefly on that, and then flash forward to the present-day interview and jump around the telling of TVL like that. but, vitally, we’ve been introduced to Akasha from the start, so hints of her can start showing up in the present-day plot in a way that makes sense to the (unread) audience, which gives us a big plot-driving reason to spend a lot of time in the present day, with louis, possibly the talamasca, possibly Jesse and the fam. or the talamasca does an infodump on akasha early, idk.

whatever they do, I need them to be creative and get me so much louis up in here. matched! set! do! not! separate!

honestly I’m not sure how they squeeze this all down to 8 episodes without a chainsaw, but! again: i have faith. though honestly i'm hoping for 15 episodes.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #it's hilarious how much total gremlin activity lestat describes in TVL while at the same time saying how fascinating armand is #the man is so torn #it's a hard pass but his dick is aesthetically a fan #iwtv s3 #the vampire lestat

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