#no matter what release they do: they hate it

[steddieas-shegoes]

because it's yours

for @steddielovemonth using the quote prompt: "If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. I'd love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it's yours." - Stephen King

rated t | 1250 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, eddie munson lives, pre-relationship, injury recovery, first kiss, getting together

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Eddie’s not allowed visitors in the hospital, at least according to Wayne and Hopper. It’s for his own safety, they say.

Steve knows that’s partially bullshit. He’s good at sensing bullshit. But he plays along anyway, convinces the kids to just visit Max and they’ll plan a welcome home party for Eddie when he’s released. It gets harder by the day, especially when all the news they hear is that Eddie is healing well and should be good to go home even sooner than they thought.

No one tells them when he’s released.

Steve only finds out because he walks by the room Eddie’s been in, and instead of the door being closed, it’s wide open. There’s unfamiliar voices coming from the room. It could be doctors or nurses, but something makes him pause and peek in the doorway.

It’s an older woman and what appears to be her adult children, all of them having a very serious conversation about how she needs to be more careful while gardening.

Steve leaves before he’s caught eavesdropping.

He considers stopping by Dustin’s, see if he’s heard the news. Maybe the kids found out first.

Who is Steve to Eddie really?

Just because they gave each other looks and flirted a little and Steve carried him out of the Upside Down and-

He swallows the hurt and decides to go straight to Wayne’s new trailer. It’s just outside of town, easy to get to even with the damage done by the cracks. He’s been there a few times to check on him, even helped him set up his cable.

When Wayne opens the door, Steve knows something is off.

He doesn’t invite him in. Instead, he steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him. He gives Steve an awkward smile instead of his usual warm, comforting one.

“Is he home?” Steve asks.

“He’s sleeping,” Wayne allows. “He’s still recovering.”

“Do the kids know he’s home?”

“Son, he-“

“Why is he hiding? Everyone’s worried and just wants to make sure he’s okay. No one would keep him from resting!” Steve hates that his voice pitches higher. His hands are shaking. He’s never spoken to an adult he respects like this. “We just wanna know he’s safe.”

“He is.” Wayne sighs. “I told that boy no one was gonna stay away for long. He insisted everyone would forget him. I said no. He didn’t listen.”

Steve’s eyes dart over to the window he knows goes to Eddie’s bedroom. He’d been the one to help set it up when Wayne moved in.

“Can I please see him? I’ll be quick. I won’t even tell the kids yet. I just need to see,” Steve begs. “Please, Wayne.”

Wayne wordlessly opens the door and gestures for Steve to come inside.

He leads him to Eddie’s room, reminding him with a look to be quiet and not wake him up. Steve gives an understanding nod and walks into the room.

There’s sunlight sneaking through the blackout curtains, just enough to light up the bed that Eddie’s already wide awake in. Steve can’t help the smile blooming on his face.

Eddie looks scared, though.

His eyes are wide, and he’s pulled himself to the farthest corner of the queen sized bed. His hair’s a mess, proof that he probably was asleep just before Steve got here.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve waves. He doesn’t come any closer to the bed. “I just wanted to get eyes on you. Feeling alright?”

Wayne’s standing in the doorway behind Steve, probably trying to determine if he needs to step in or ride this out. If Eddie asks, Steve will leave. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asks.

Steve watches the way his jaw moves around the words, how his mouth twists differently, like it’s taking more effort to talk. The scar going across his cheek, up into his temple, and down to his neck seems to be the cause of it. It’s still an angry red, stitches visible in some places where the bites must’ve been deeper.

He walks forward slowly. Eddie doesn’t stop him. Neither does Wayne.

The scar is big. It’ll always be big, though Steve has plenty of experience with scars and knows it’ll fade into a paler pink than it currently is. It’ll be a reminder, every day, of how he almost died. Eddie will have this memory every time he looks in the mirror, every time his own fingers brush against the ridged skin.

Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face that’s scarless.

Eddie gulps.

“Is this why you didn’t want anyone to visit?” He whispers.

Eddie doesn’t answer, but his eyes closing and head tilting down is answer enough.

“Eddie, look at me.”

Eddie opens his eyes.

“Do you really think a scar could scare any of us away? After how we found you, a scar is the least of our worries. You don’t have to hide from us.”

Steve’s not sure if Wayne’s still standing in the doorway, too focused on the way Eddie’s holding his gaze now. He’s lost weight and he’s still pale, but he’s alive. He’s still beautiful.

Maybe even more now.

“You’re alive. Everyone just wants you alive.”

“I’m gonna look even weirder now,” Eddie rasps out. Steve wonders if there’s damage to his throat, something his voice may never recover from entirely.

“I dunno. I think it’s pretty badass. Since when do you care about looking weird, anyway?” Steve smirks. “The Eddie Munson I know would find a new ridiculous story to tell every time he’s asked about something this cool.”

“I was leaning towards making people believe I got in a fight with a dragon,” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. His cheeks are red, warm underneath Steve’s touch.

“And won.”

Eddie leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “Of course I won. A knight in shining armor saved me.”

“You saved everyone else first. Don’t forget that part of the story,” Steve reminds him.

“A hero’s brave sacrifice…” Eddie mumbles. Steve chuckles. “Maybe true love’s kiss?”

“Isn’t that supposed to break a curse?” Steve whispers, suddenly nervous about all the times they flirted before. Flirting is harmless until it’s not.

“You’re right. In this case, it’s the curse of never kissing a nice guy.”

“And you think I can break that curse?”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

It’s a little awkward at first, mostly because parts of Eddie’s jaw are still numb from nerve damage and moving in certain ways is difficult. But once Steve adjusts, and they both giggle against each others’ lips, it’s easy. They fit.

Eddie tries to deepen the kiss, but he is still healing, and he has to pull away when his stitches tug painfully.

“Your battle scars won’t matter to any of us. They damn sure don’t make you less beautiful to me. Everyone misses you,” Steve rubs his arm, the one with no visible bandages. “Can I at least bring Dustin over later? Let him see that you’re actually alive and the hospital and government haven’t been lying?”

“Is that what everyone thinks?”

“You have to remember we’ve been through this a lot. Hopper was dead until he wasn’t. Anything can be faked.”

“That’s reassuring,” Eddie groans. “Yeah. Bring everyone by tomorrow. I’ll even shower.”

Steve kisses the top of his head. “Do you need help?”

“With showering? I just might, big boy.”

The way Eddie smiles is different now, but Steve loves it all the same.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

In Any Reality: Revelations

(continuation of the alt!Assistant AU-- they are no longer boss/employee at this point)

---

Please come.

That’s all the text on Kara’s screen says, and even though she waits several minutes, no further clarification comes in.

Where are you? She sends back. Are you okay?

Apartment.

Kara is already logging off when the response buzzes on her cell. Working late, there’s no one to criticize her speedy exit. She flies to Lena’s apartment, but when her x-ray vision confirms Lena is alone and in no apparent danger, Kara ducks into an alley to wait a reasonably human amount of time before officially arriving. 

Only then does she let herself up, using her key to slip inside Lena’s apartment. There she makes a beeline to where Lena sits on her too-white couch, elbows on her knees with her shoulders slumped. 

“Lena?” Her girlfriend doesn’t look up at her approach, and alarm flares in Kara’s chest. She crosses the room and kneels in front of her, taking Lena’s hands in hers. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

Finally, Lena lifts her chin, meeting Kara’s gaze with flat, empty eyes.

“Lena, what happened?” Kara insists. 

“Is this real?”

Lena’s voice is rough and dull. Kara blinks in confusion. “You mean us?”

“I mean… me.”

In an instant, Kara knows exactly what’s happened. It’s her turn for her shoulders to slump as she sinks back on her heels. “Lex told you.”

Not a question. There’s no doubt in Kara’s mind. Only Lex would see his sister happy, then pull the rug out from under her entire reality, just to see her miserable. Broken.

Lena exhales. “He says I’m just an echo. A construct of his will.”

“Lex is a self-obsessed maniac,” Kara snaps. “He couldn’t build a construct of you if he tried.”

Green eyes sharpen. “But it’s true, isn’t it. He made this world– made me. This version of me.”

Shaking her head, Kara releases Lena’s hands to reach up and cup her cheeks instead.

“You are real,” she says firmly. Lena’s eyes fill with tears. “You are real. Lex may have had a hand in shaping this world, but he made nothing.”

“But…”

“Do you think he would be this pissed if he had any control over you? Over us?”

Doubt clouds Lena’s gaze, which self-consciously slides away from Kara. “He says you loved her too.”

“Yes, “ Kara says. “I did.”

Lena pulls away from Kara’s hands. “I must be a poor consolation prize.”

Gritting her teeth, Kara struggles to rein in her temper. She doesn’t understand why Lex can’t stand to see Lena happy. Before, she would have believed it was just Lena’s happiness with her, a Super, that burrowed under his skin. But in this reality, where she isn’t Supergirl, where she only rarely uses her abilities… This is about Lena, not Kara. 

Lex hates his sister. 

“You’re not listening to me,” Kara says, keeping her voice even. “Lex didn’t create you.”

“But–”

“Lena. Look at me.” Kara waits until Lena meets her gaze. “Some things may be different. But no matter how different things may be… In any world, in any reality, I love you.”

“And you’ve met so many of me then?” 

Kara bites back a laugh. In the old reality, her experience reality-hopping with Mxy had hardly seemed different from any other thursday, but here in this reality? Kara shakes her head, half to herself.

“It’s too long to explain,” she replies, “but yes. I have.”

Lena doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and Kara gives her time to absorb the new information. Finally, Lena nods, running her palms against her thighs. 

“All right,” she says. 

Genuine confusion crests over Kara. “All right, what?”

Lena gazes at her solemnly. 

“I’ll help you get home.”

Silence hangs between them. Kara’s heart twinges– she can’t deny she misses her old life. It’s like losing Krypton again, in a way, but with the continued reminder of what used to be in the faces of her friends and family. If she had a choice, would she return to that world?

Luckily, she doesn’t have to make that impossible choice.

“This is the only home there is,” she delivers plainly. “It’s a miracle even this one still exists.”

Lena’s features soften. “I’m sorry.”

Kara nods her gratitude. “I’m just relieved I still have you.”

“Lex said…” Her voice cracks. “Lex said we hated each other.”

Of course he did. “We had a falling out,” is all she says. “We didn’t have time to work through it.”

Lena swallows thickly. “You loved her?”

“I love you. All of you.”

“I don’t…” Lena’s voice sounds uncertain, for the first time Kara has seen in this reality. “I don’t know if I can live in the shadow of another version of me.”

Kara bites her lip. “That’s a decision only you can make,” she says softly. “But know this: of all the Lena’s I’ve ever loved, and those I’ve lost, you are the only one I’ve ever kissed.”

—-

Kara gives Lena space over the following week. Her stomach churns in apprehension of Lena’s decision but she refuses to let despair claim her. No matter what happens, Lena is alive– she exists, and she’s breaking away from Lex with every attempt he makes to tear her down. 

Alex notices the change in her demeanor, but Kara declines to share. This feels too intimate to explain, even if she could. But Alex doesn’t know the truth of the multiverse, and Kara has no desire to walk her through it. 

On the sixth day, Kara is at her easel– fiddling with her brush more than she actually paints– when a knock sounds at her door. Even without looking, she knows that it’s Lena. Taking a breath to steady herself, Kara sets her brush aside and lifts away from her stool.

Lena stands stiffly beyond the threshold when Kara opens the door. Her discomfort is plainly visible, and her features hold too much uncertainty to put Kara’s heart at ease. 

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping aside to invite Lena in.

“Hey,” Lena returns, just as soft. She ducks her chin as she enters, and looks up through her lashes at Kara. It’s an image Kara knows well from the previous reality– it’s the first time she’s seen it in this one. 

“Lena…”

“I want to know.” Lena finally lifts her chin. “I want to know why we hated each other so much.”

Kara breathes a quiet sigh. “I’m an alien.”

Lena clearly wasn’t expecting that. She blinks. “Oh.”

“That wasn’t why you hated me– it was that I lied about it, and let you believe I was two different people for far longer than I could justify.” She swallows. “I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Even though…?” 

Even though it never happened. Even though it didn’t matter any more.

“Even though,” Kara confirms. Crisis may have eradicated countless worlds and lives, but Kara’s regret will persist to eternity. 

Lena looks at her hands, where her fingers nervously twist and worry each other. 

“Kara… I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. And I don’t know what I would do if I had the memories you do.”

Kara’s throat tightens. She braces herself against hope and disappointment both. 

“All I know,” Lena continues, “is that I love you. So if you’re willing to love this flawed, inglorious version of me, then… I’m not going to let Lex take you away from me.”

Kara closes her eyes, sending tears spilling down her cheeks. She sniffs, and a sob pops out of her. She hears a thump when Lena drops her purse to the floor, and then Lena is reaching for her, tentative hands pulling Kara’s arms from where they’ve wrapped around herself, until their hands link together.

Kara offers a trembling nod, blinking up at Lena. 

“Thank you.”

“No,” Lena whispers hoarsely, voice thick with tears of her own. “Thank you. Thank you for finding me.”

"Always."

[heliosunny]

Can we have a part 2 of yandere Mydei x knight reader plsss

Yandere!Mydei x Knight!Reader

[part 2] - Visit [part 1]

After the ballroom incident, you knew one thing for certain, you had to escape. But escaping Mydei was easier said than done. Especially when he was already expecting it.

The moon is high in the sky when you make your move. The corridors of the palace are eerily silent, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls. Mydei had kept you under constant watch after the incident with Lord Aldric, but tonight, he had been called away for an urgent diplomatic matter.

With practiced stealth, you slip through the hallways, dressed in dark clothing stolen from the armory. Your weapons are hidden beneath your cloak, and beneath your gloves, the scars of your assassin days itch, as if reminding you of who you truly are.

You are not a knight. You are not his.

You are a weapon, and tonight, you will be free.

Your heart pounds as you reach the palace walls. The outer gates loom ahead, heavily guarded—but the servant passage through the western courtyard remains unguarded at this hour.

"Going somewhere, my dear?"

The voice freezes you in place. whipped around, only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He stands before you in the dim moonlight, his golden eyes gleaming like a beast that had finally caught its prey.

There is no anger in his expression, only amusement.

"You disappoint me" he sighs, taking a step forward. You instinctively step back, but the stone wall behind you halts your retreat.

"Did you truly believe I wouldn’t anticipate this?" he murmurs, tilting his head.

Your hands twitch toward your weapons.

"Go ahead" he encourages, spreading his arms as if daring you to strike.

Your fingers brush the dagger at your belt—but you hesitate. Something in your gut warns you this is exactly what he wants.

"Hmm…" Mydei hums, stepping closer. "No? Pity. I was looking forward to a little struggle."

Before you can react, his hand clamps around your throat. Your breath cuts off. Not enough to choke you. Not yet. But enough to remind you—he is stronger than you think.

"Do you think I will punish you for this?" he whispers, his thumb brushing against the racing pulse at your throat. "Oh, my dear… this is not punishment."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"This is a lesson."

You try to wrench away, but Mydei is faster.

In a single movement, he spins you, pressing your back firmly against the stone wall, his gloved hand pinning your wrists above your head. The cold night air bites at your skin, but his body is warm, suffocating, inescapable.

"Did you really think I would let you go?" he murmurs, his voice dipping into something darker.

"No" he breathes, his golden eyes alight with twisted satisfaction. "You are mine. And if you run… I will always catch you."

He releases one of your wrists, only to slide his hand down, tracing the length of your arm with a mockery of tenderness.

"Shall I prove it to you?" he murmurs.

Your legs buckle as a sharp pressure strikes your side. You gasp, barely managing to keep from crying out. Mydei watches your reaction closely, as if studying the exact moment your defiance begins to crumble.

"Not deep" he comments, withdrawing his dagger from your side. A gloved finger smears the blood against your cloak. "Just enough to remind you."

You glare at him, but your body trembles despite yourself.

"You will not die from this" he assures, almost lovingly. "But you will remember it."

His hand trails lower, pressing against your wound just enough to make you shudder in pain.

"You will remember that no matter how far you run… no matter how hard you fight…"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your temple.

"You are already caught."

You curse him, struggling against his grip—but he merely laughs, tightening his hold.

"That’s it," he whispers, relishing your desperation. "Show me more, my dear. Fight me. Hate me. But never forget—"

"You will never be free of me."

You failed to escape.

Now, Mydei tends to your wound—but his touch is anything but gentle.

The world tilts as Mydei carries you.

His arms are firm, unwavering, as he strides back through the palace halls. You barely register the movement—your wound burns, the fabric of your stolen cloak sticking to your side with warm, wet blood.

But worse than the pain is his voice.

"Ah… such a foolish thing you are" Mydei murmurs, almost mockingly, his golden eyes never leaving your face. "And yet, I cannot find it in me to be angry."

You force yourself to stay silent. If you speak, you’ll curse him. And right now, you can’t afford to anger him more than you already have.

"I wonder" he continues, his grip tightening around you as he carries you up a grand staircase. "Did you hesitate to kill me? Or was I simply faster?"

You are placed on a lavish bed within his private chambers. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting the room in a golden glow, but the warmth does little to thaw the ice in your veins.

"Take that off" Mydei commands smoothly, nodding toward your bloodied cloak. "Unless you wish for me to do it for you."

Your fingers twitch toward your dagger—before you remember that he took it.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you remove the cloak, the fabric sliding from your shoulders as you reveal your wound. The cut isn’t deep, but it bleeds enough to weaken you. Mydei watches intently, his gaze heavy, unreadable.

"Good" he murmurs, reaching for a cloth and a glass vial.

A familiar scent hits you immediately—medicinal wine. You barely have a moment to brace before a sharp sting burns through your side.

You flinch, a hiss escaping through gritted teeth as the alcohol sears the wound.

And Mydei… his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you from pulling away.

"Painful?" he asks, his voice mockingly gentle.

You glare at him.

"Good," he breathes. "Remember it."

His fingers brush against your skin "I could have made this worse for you," Mydei murmurs, his golden eyes flickering with something dark and unreadable. "But you are lucky I am merciful."

Merciful. The very thought makes you want to laugh. Instead, you bite back your pain, keeping your expression void of weakness.

"You call this mercy?" you manage, voice hoarse.

Mydei chuckles.

"If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be breathing right now."

His hand lingers against your exposed skin, tracing the curve of your waist with an unsettling sense of ownership.

"I wonder," he muses, his voice dropping lower, "if I should mark you another way—so you never forget who you belong to."

The room feels smaller. His presence is suffocating.

"But no" Mydei decides, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Not yet."

His touch finally withdraws—but not before he presses a kiss just above your wound.

"Rest, my dear," Mydei whispers against your skin. "You won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time."

And with that, he rises, leaving you in the golden glow of the fire, with nothing but the sting of your wound.

-----

A noble lady visits Mydei far too often.

You don’t care—at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But when you notice something off about her, you realize that your indifference might cost Mydei his life.

Lady Callista of House Vernay. Beautiful and relentlessly persistent. She has been fluttering about the palace like a bird of prey, visiting Mydei under the guise of "diplomatic talks."

But everyone knows the truth.

She is courting him. And Mydei lets her.

You watch from the shadows, seething.

Not from jealousy.

You simply find her annoying.

Her saccharine voice drips with false charm whenever she speaks to Mydei. Her delicate fingers rest on his arm too easily, her eyes glimmering with an admiration that makes you feel… something unpleasant.

And worse?

Mydei does nothing to stop her.

One evening, you are passing through the palace gardens when you see her again. But this time, she isn’t with Mydei. She is alone—speaking in hushed tones to a cloaked figure.

You slip into the shadows, ears sharpening as their words drift toward you.

"…the poison must be slow. It cannot be obvious," Lady Callista murmurs. "I want him to grow weak over time. I want him to trust me before he dies."

Poison.

She is plotting against him.

Your fingers twitch toward your concealed dagger. You could end this right now. A single strike, a precise cut—Lady Callista’s pretty little plan would die along with her.

But you hesitate. Not because you care for her life.

But because you need to know why.

Why does she want Mydei dead?

And more importantly—how much time does he have?

You move swiftly, finding Mydei in his private study. He is alone, reading over documents. He barely looks up when you enter—but he knows.

"You have something to say" he began, setting his papers aside.

"Lady Callista is trying to poison you."

He laughed. Not a loud, mocking laugh, but a low, amused chuckle.

"Oh? And you care because…?"

You scowl.

"I don’t care." The words are sharp, biting. "I just thought you should know before you drink from the wrong cup and drop dead like an idiot."

He leans back, smiling.

"How dutiful of you, my dear knight."

You grit your teeth.

"This isn’t a game, Mydei. She wants you dead."

His amusement doesn’t fade.

If anything, it deepens.

"Then perhaps I should let her try," he muses, watching you carefully. "I wonder… would you let her succeed?"

You couldn't say a word.

"No?" he breathes, leaning forward. "Then tell me, my dear... why?"

Yeah, why? Why does the thought of someone else killing him make you furious?

Mydei sees the conflict in your eyes.

"How delightful" he murmurs, reaching for your hand. "It seems you aren’t as indifferent as you claim to be."

His fingers curl around yours.

"So tell me…" Mydei whispers, voice smooth as silk. "What shall we do about Lady Callista?"

And just like that—

You realize you have already chosen a side.

Lady Callista is cunning.

She knows she cannot kill Mydei directly.

So instead—she tries to eliminate you.

And Mydei watches it all unfold.

The grand banquet hall is filled with laughter, music, and the rich scent of wine. Noble guests mingle, their silken garments shimmering. Mydei sits at the head of the grand table. And at his side?

Lady Callista.

You stand in the shadows, unwilling to partake in the pointless pleasantries. But your eyes never leave her. Because you know what she is. A snake in silk. And tonight, she finally bares her fangs.

"Your Highness," Lady Callista suddenly speaks, her voice carrying across the hall. "I must bring something grave to your attention."

The room falls silent.

Mydei lifts a golden goblet to his lips, unbothered. "Oh?"

Lady Callista rises from her seat.

She turns toward you and points.

"Your Majesty, this assassin has been plotting against you."

Murmurs ripple through the hall. Eyes turn to you.

And yet—you do not react.

Because you expected this.

"Oh?" Mydei leans forward, interested. "How intriguing. Do tell, my lady."

Lady Callista presses a hand to her chest, feigning concern. "I have reason to believe this assassin has been poisoning your wine. I witnessed them lurking near the kitchens, slipping something into your cup just this evening."

Gasps. The nobles whisper amongst themselves.

She was the one poisoning his wine.

She is simply trying to frame you before you expose her.

Mydei hums, twirling his goblet. "Is that so?"

"How bold of you, Lady Callista," you say smoothly. "To claim I poisoned his wine… when I saw you do the very same."

The hall erupts into new whispers.

Lady Callista’s smile tightens. "You lie."

You tilt your head. "Do I?"

With measured steps, you approach Mydei’s goblet, lifting it before the watching crowd.

And you drink.

The nobles gasp.

Lady Callista’s face loses color.

Because she knows—she did, in fact, poison it.

You lower the goblet. The taste is bitter, but you’ve trained your body to resist weaker poisons.

"How strange," you murmur. "If I had poisoned this wine, I’d be dead by now."

Your gaze flicks to Lady Callista.

"Shall I fetch you a cup, my lady?"

She stiffens. She knows she has been caught.

The nobles begin to whisper amongst themselves—doubt creeping into their expressions.

And Mydei?

He laughs.

"Oh, how delightful," he muses, golden eyes gleaming. "A web of deception spun in my very halls."

Then, he stands. In one fluid motion, he turns to Lady Callista.

"You seem nervous, my lady" Mydei remarks. "Shall I have my physician examine you? Or better yet… perhaps you should try my wine yourself?"

She shakes her head. "Your Highness, I—"

She never finishes. Because Mydei grabs her wrist. And in the next second—he forces the goblet to her lips. She chokes, wine spilling down her chin as she struggles.

The nobles gasp in horror.

"Drink."

Lady Callista sputters, eyes filling with terror as she falls to the floor. Her body convulses, her breaths turning ragged—before she finally falls still.

The room is silent.

Mydei turns back to you.

His golden eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"How fortunate that you were here to reveal such treachery," he murmurs. "It seems you truly are mine, after all."

You have removed your greatest rival.

And in doing so, you have only bound yourself closer to him.

[oliviaglumac]

I need you

Pairing : George Harrison x fem!reader

Genre : comfort

Requested : yes!

The mirror had never been kind to you.

Tonight was no different.

You stood in the dressing room of the club, tugging at the hem of your dress, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, willing the fabric to sit differently—to make you look different. Slimmer. Smaller.

You weren’t fat, not really. But next to the other Beatles’ girlfriends, you felt it.

Jane, with her long, delicate limbs and effortless elegance. Cynthia, who always carried herself with such poised grace. Maureen, so effortlessly cool, with a figure that never made her doubt herself.

And then there was you.

You’d spent too long staring in the mirror, cataloging everything you hated, everything that didn’t measure up. The way your stomach wasn’t flat, the curve of your thighs, the softness of your arms. Things that, to anyone else, might not have even been noticeable. But to you, they were glaring.

And worst of all—George hadn’t noticed.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. He hadn’t said anything about the way you looked tonight, hadn’t looked at you the way he looked at the others. You told yourself it wasn’t his fault—he was sweet, of course, always gentle with you, but he’d never had to think about things like this. He was George Harrison.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of tears. You should have stayed home. Should have made an excuse, should have—

“Love?”

Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice.

George stood in the doorway, his tall frame leaning against the doorframe, dark eyes soft and searching.

“You alright?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The words tangled up in your throat, heavy and suffocating.

George frowned, stepping inside. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. I—I’m fine.”

He didn’t buy it.

Of course he didn’t.

He took another step closer, tilting his head slightly as he studied you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet all night.”

You hesitated, fingers twisting in the fabric of your dress. “I just…” Your voice wavered. “I don’t look right.”

George’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You let out a shaky breath, staring down at your hands. “I don’t look like them.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. He took another step forward, his hands finding yours, his fingers warm and steady around your trembling ones.

“(Y/N),” he said gently. “Is this about the others?”

You bit your lip, nodding without looking up.

George exhaled slowly, his hands squeezing yours before releasing them. For a brief, terrifying moment, you thought he was going to agree—to confirm all your worst fears.

Instead, he surprised you.

He stepped back, just enough to take you in fully, as if seeing you for the first time.

And then he sighed.

Not in frustration. Not in exasperation.

In heartbreak.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, stepping close again. “Is that what you’ve been thinkin’ this whole time?”

You swallowed hard. “I just—I know I don’t look like them. I know I don’t fit in. And I know you—you could be with anyone, George. Someone beautiful, someone thin, someone who—”

His hands came up, cradling your face before you could finish.

“Stop.”

His voice was soft, but firm. There was no hesitation, no room for argument.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asked.

You shook your head weakly, tears threatening to spill over.

George exhaled again, his thumbs stroking softly over your cheeks.

“I see you,” he said. “The girl I can’t stop lookin’ at no matter who else is in the room.” His voice was low, reverent. “The girl who makes me laugh, who makes me feel like the luckiest bloke in the world just ‘cause she chooses to be with me.”

Your chest ached, throat burning with unshed tears.

“I don’t care if you don’t look like the others,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to. You’re you. And I love every single bloody thing about you.”

Your lower lip trembled. “You don’t have to say that.”

George let out a quiet, almost pained chuckle. “I’m not sayin’ it ‘cause I have to, love. I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I mean it.”

And then he leaned in, pressing the softest, most lingering kiss to your forehead.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” he whispered.

The dam broke.

A sob escaped before you could stop it, and George was already there, pulling you into his arms, holding you close against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ve got you, love.”

You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder, letting yourself feel the weight of his words. The weight of him.

You weren’t magically healed. The doubts, the insecurities—they wouldn’t disappear overnight.

But wrapped in George’s arms, you felt lighter.

And for now, that was enough.

[reidhalstead]

He stares at her for too long A man lost at sea, searching for the speck on the horizon that might have him sailing towards land. He can't let Nisha be his lighthouse, but god, he's seen only her and her moments of light in the past months that he's beginning not to care. Stubborn hasn't gotten him fed, pride hasn't freed him from the binds. He's fighting, knowing it'll earn him more quiet; more time with the voices in his head, taunting him for always losing against this beast. Telling him to eradicate the sensation of feeling, or emotion; to become cold; it's freeing too

To beat a creature like her, he has to become one. It's the only sane thought he thinks he's had in weeks. Because he's still not any more a man down here, even as the water laps at his skin, washing him of his time surviving the ocean; drowning a hundred times over, resurfacing as a pirate of lesser morals. The feeling of losing his mind fleets by his thoughts. She wouldn't allow him to die but she'd inform his sisters of his demise.

He hasn't got the strength to spit in her face, but he considers it.

She still speaks of them like it's okay; she's been using them as leverage since he's known her. It's her victory card, no matter what move or countercard Reid plays, she's got one better. He only wishes he could find a barrier between them and her so he can play a game of wits and not be inevitably put in checkmate every time.

"It must get boring." He mutters, "Watching them, so you can keep me compliant."

And after his face contorts in surprise, he twists to better look at her. There's hesitation when she agrees to leave a shackle off. He wonders what her angle for it is. And if anyone else, he'd have thanked her, with the briefest moment of relief. He moves his head, exposing his throat; wincing when she scrubs the debris from every part she could find. Reid finds that his muscles don't feel so taut, when clean of the clotted dirt that had built up. That, or he notices the blood she's fed him actually does something substantial in the way of relief.

"If I turned around and asked you now what the positives are, that I wanted all you offer, you'd not believe me." It's not even worth a lie. He can't picture Eleazar in his position, chained and begging for freedom or quiet and resilient and saying nothing to anger her captor. Reid doesn't know her history, or even what era she's parasitically survived the centuries from. But she's always been stronger; she beat him when he was at his best. There's no besting her when he's at his worst.

Maybe there's a different definition of that.

"What can I do to convince you to release me?" He hates that it's begging, but it's on the ground whilst she washes him, chained and still starving. "Tell me. I'll do it. You said it isn't a constant but you're making it difficult to believe. You're a liar." It's broken — his voice cracks behind old anger and pain. He feels less like a man, here. "I don't know what you want. But you can use your words and tell me." a beat, "I don't know where you came from — but I wouldn't do this to someone, I wouldn't even do this to a bloodsucker. You, whoever your sire is, you're the same breed of monster."

Reid's realising, he's desperate not to become the same.

"I'd inform them." Nisha muttered as she continued to wipe of the dirt and grime from his skin. She knew that she should have done this sooner -- kept him cleaner. But she'd thought leaving him here without the basics of what he'd need would break him sooner. That Reid would have realized quicker what this was. "Not that it would ever happen. I wouldn't allow it." Dying was not on the agenda for either of them. Now or ever. Of course, mistakes and accidents could happen. But Nisha would protect Reid from anyone, especially himself. "I am not talking as if I know them personally. I don't. I know what they do. I know which one is an active hunter and which one isn't." Not that she had to explain herself. She didn't. "I've watched them. You've avoided them up until recently. It's as simple as that."

He knew her well enough to know that she was observant. That Nisha would use anyone and everyone to her advantage, if needed.

At his question, she nodded and then: "Yes. For now." Nisha then started humming softly as she continued to wipe off his skin. Up around his neck, his shoulders, and then down to his lower back. She knew that he wasn't strong enough to do damage to her but the chains had a purpose. To show him that he wasn't the one in control here. "That isn't the goal." She informed him. "I want you to be comfortable with the life I've given you. I don't necessarily care if you're happy -- although, that would be preferred. But I want you to adjust to it. I want you to see the positives to it. And, eventually, peacefulness could come, I suppose." Nisha shrugged her shoulders. "As much as I'm using some old tactics from my own sire, this is not going to be your constant like it was mine."

[maracllea]

stans need a don't pit girl groups against each other 2024 challenge istg its just so pathetic and embarrassing having to be exposed to those takes ~

like ?? STILL ??

[thefirstknife]

New article with more details (from Jason Schreier who first broke the story). If you can't see it, I'll copy the whole text under read more.

About 100 employees were laid off in total (8%) and one of the main reasons listed is "underperformance," "sharp drop in popularity" and "poor reception of Lightfall."

So you know when for the last year and a half content creators have been shitting and pissing on the game as a full-time job and the amount of negativity and ragebait content became the only thing to make content about for them? Well they certainly won't take the blame, but I will let it be known. These people either don't understand the influence they have or they do and they're doing it on purpose, and I don't know which of these two options is worse, but I am 100% confident that their campaign of rage and hate contributed to this.

You don't base your entire community around constantly hating everything about the only game you play (despite clearly not enjoying it anymore) and somehow avoid galvanising thousands and thousands of people into perceiving the game negatively. Imagine being employees who have barely worked there for 2 years and the only community reception they've seen is 24/7 hate train for their work and then they get fired because of "poor reception" and "drop in popularity." How can they not take that personally? I am absolutely devastated for these people who delievered a banger product and who were met with an unrelenting barrage of toxic gamer children which ended up having more sway over their boss than them.

Which brings me to the next bit and that's FUCK THE CEO. He is now my mortal enemy #1. I am projecting psychic blasts directly into his brain. What an absolute spineless coward who is more willing to bow down to fucking gamers than to protect his own employees. This is absolutely rage inducing because this has happened before. From the article from 2021 about the toxic culture at Bungie:

Reading this shit from the new article absolutely fucking sent me into blind rage because I immediately remembered this. Another instance of employees suffering because of comments on reddit. And because of toxic players. And proof that leadership is not protecting employees and is instead siding with players.

Match made in heaven. Asshole gamer content creators and asshole CEOs, all of whom sit at home on piles of money made from someone else's labour. I hope they all explode. None of the people that worked on this game deserve this.

Another article with an infuriating comment from the CEO:

In an internal town hall meeting addressing a Monday round of layoffs that impacted multiple departments, Bungie CEO Pete Parsons allegedly told remaining employees that the company had kept “the right people” to continue work on Destiny 2.

"Kept the right people." Really. Veteran composers weren't the right people? Die!

Bloomberg article in full:

Bungie’s decision to cut an estimated 100 jobs from its staff of about 1,200 followed dire management warnings earlier this month of a sharp drop in the popularity of its flagship video game Destiny 2. Just two weeks ago, executives at the Sony-owned game developer told employees that revenue was running 45% below projections for the year, according to people who attended the meeting. Chief Executive Officer Pete Parsons pinned the big miss on weak player retention for Destiny 2, which has faced a poor reception since the release of its latest expansion, Lightfall. The next expansion, The Final Shape, was getting good — not great feedback — and management told those present that they planned to push back the release to June 2024 from February, according the people, who asked not to be identified because they weren’t authorized to speak publicly. The additional time would give developers a chance to improve the product. In the meantime, Parsons told staff Bungie would be cutting costs, such as for travel, as well as implementing salary and hiring freezes, the people said. Everyone would have to work together to weather the storm, he said, leaving employees feeling determined to do whatever was needed to get revenue back up. But on Monday morning the news got worse: Dozens of staffers woke up to mysterious 15-minute meetings that had been placed on their calendars, which they soon learned were part of a mass layoff. Bungie laid off around 8% of its employees, according to documentation reviewed by Bloomberg. Bungie didn’t respond to requests for comment. Employees who were let go will receive at least three months of severance and three months of Bungie-paid COBRA health insurance, although other benefits, such as expense reimbursements, ended Monday, sending some staff racing to submit their receipts. Laid-off staffers will also receive prorated bonuses, although those who were on a vesting schedule following Sony Group Corp.’s acquisition of Bungie in January 2022 will lose any shares that weren’t vested as of next month. The layoffs are part of a larger money-saving initiative at Sony’s PlayStation unit, which has also cut employees at studios such as Naughty Dog, Media Molecule and its San Mateo office. TD Cowen analyst Doug Creutz wrote in a report Monday that “events over the last few days lead us to believe that PlayStation is undergoing a restructuring.” PlayStation president Jim Ryan announced last month that he plans to resign. Many of the layoffs at Bungie affected the company’s support departments, such as community management and publishing. Remaining Bungie staff were informed that some of those areas will be outsourced moving forward.

[beef-brisket]

As the silence dragged on, Lucifer was getting uncomfortable. Not only with the fact they were just puppeted by some unknown force, but Adam hasn't been this quiet since he entered the hotel.

Lucifer: ...What's wrong?

Adam glared at Lucifer over the pillow he was hugging: Seriously? Are you seriously asking me that?

Lucifer shrugged: What else am I meant to ask? You look like something up-.

Adam: Dude. Do you remember what happened not even half an hour ago, or did I suck some fucking braincells out of your cock?! We just got CONTROLLED, man! But- who the fuck knows what! What if that shit happens in front of people?!

Lucifer: I... that won't happen-.

Adam: Oh, it won't?! We just fucked in the LOBBY, Lucifer!

Lucifer sighed and started pacing. He was thinking until he saw a few photos on Adam's wall. But one stood out.

Lucifer: ...Where are you in this photo?

Adam: Uh, a concert? It doesn't matter-.

Lucifer turned and faced Adam, folding his arms: You went outside? You're not allowed out of the hotel- when did you leave?

Adam: ...Like... every weekend-.

Lucifer: WHAT?!

Adam growled: I can't fucking believe you, that's what you're worried about?! That I left?! Are you delusional?!

Lucifer: I have no idea what to do, Adam! I have no idea who could be doing this- and why it's happening to us!

Adam: Well- figure it out! You're the Devil- the fuck, man? Nothing should be able to fuck with you!

Lucifer: I know! I mean, I dealt with you easily enough.

Adam: Hey. I was a good fight, alright?

Lucifer: ...Sure. I really broke a sweat-.

There was a sudden knock at the door, making Adam and Lucifer spin around just in time for Charliento crack the door open.

Charlie: Sorry for the intrusion, Adam - oh, dad? I thought I heard your voice... uh, is everything okay? There's a lot of yelling.

Adam glared at Lucifer, bastard could have soundproofed the room or some shit.

Lucifer: Sorry about that, hun. I hope we were being too loud. Adam and I were just... talking. About a few issues.

Charlie: Issues? This wouldn't have anything to do with something happening down stairs?

Adam was beyond embarrassed and pissed off. He covered part of his face with the pillow, glaring even harder at Lucifer.

Lucifer: D-Downstairs? What happened down stairs?

Charlie: Well... there's... something on the carpet- like... well, Angel said it was- uh... y-you know. And we saw you helping Adam up the stairs. Or, that's what it looked like... so uh... is everything okay?

Luckily, neither of them saw how hard Adam was gripping his pillow. He couldn't fucjing believe it. The guy could snap cum out of him, but couldn't snap cum off the carpet? What utter bullshit.

He fucking hates it here.

Lucifer: Well- hun. I'm not sure what was on the carpet, Adam and I... we... uh... I was making Adam run a few laps- to lose weight. You see, he's gained a little bit since Eden, and I was helping him out!

Charlie smiled brightly: Oh. Dad! That's fantastic! What a nice thing to do!

Adam was ready to kill this little bastard. Charlie better be ready to become an orphan.

Lucifer: Oh, you know me, hun! Helpful to the end! I'll come clean the uh... the cum. Shall I? Excuse us, Adam.

Adam: Yeah, you're fucking excused. Asshole.

With a glare, Lucifer left the room to follow Charlie downstairs.

Charlie: Thanks for helping, dad. For a minute there, everyone thought Adam- uh... "released" on the carpet.

Lucifer: Oh! One would think that, wouldn't they? He's such a slob- but we're getting there, darling.

Charlie smiles: That's good, dad. I'm glad you're helping him. Adam's... been through a lot. I can't talk about our private sessions, but trust me... he's... uh... troubled.

Lucifer chuckled akwardly: That's another word for it.

VooDoo Do You

@beef-brisket I really want this one 😩

-

Alastor put the finishing touches on the voodoo dolls of Adam the first man and Lucifer the King of Hell. It has taken so long to make them this perfect.

Hair from their pillows, feathers from their wings, ....... Other DNA things that he wished he didn't have to touch. It was finally over.

So he picked them up and started twisting them to cause pain. Those two morons have been a pain in his ass long enough and it's time to get even. They weren't too far away so he should be able to hear if it's working.

But nothing happened, he teleported to where Adam and Lucifer were sitting on the couch talking and tried.

Still nothing.

The fuck!?

Nifty came up to him: Something wrong Alastor?

Alastor sighed and handed them to her, if nothing else she can just have them for her puppet show.

Alastor: Just wasting my time apparently Nifty. Here, go nuts.

He left and she was so happy! He gave her a gift of her favorite ship!

Nifty: Hehehehe

They started to glow and sparkle with green magic.

Nifty: Oooou, pretty.

-

Adam: And I'm telling you, waffles are good too. Those pockets? Holds all the syrup.

Lucifer: Hmm, maybe. I like pancakes more, you can fold them like a taco.

Adam stretched: And that is your opinion. Tacos are good though, pancakes would be good for like, sweet tacos.

Lucifer: With strawberries?

Adam: Duh.

They looked as green sparkles glittered around them, they exchanged glances.

Adam: The fuck is this?

Lucifer: ....... I'm not sure.

[dropespeon]

god. god. sasasap. ogd

[bataddictedloony]

listen this might be something that seems obvious to me because I actually like the art of film and storytelling and art in general, but maybe… don’t make movies based off of old movies you very obviously hate. Why should I watch your remake if all you do is shittalk the source material you based it off of? How is that supposed to convince me your “new and improved” version is going to be better if you keep telling me the bar is literally rock bottom?

[bmpmp3]

Getting into stuff that has a lot of pre-announced release dates is really good for me like vocal synthesizer products and new love live etc franchise music releases....I'll be lying in bed at like 2 AM with ur usual 20-something's fear and existentialism over time and the future and then I'll remember a piece of singing software or a new song related to cartoon characters I like is gonna come out like next month and I'm like 😌

[toytulini]

wheres that post about how its hard to have like a fucking depression spiral or whatever while knitting bc lemme tell u im sitting here fighting back tears while actively crocheting and its not fucking working

[mako-island-moon-pool]

I really do deserve a fucking apology for all the times my friends and family valued strangers on the internet and their opinions more than me

How am I supposed to be just fine with being ignored for years and years or bullied for openly liking what I like, only for those same fucking people to then turn around YEARS LATER, AFTER THE DAMAGE WAS ALREADY DONE, and be like "actually this is cool, so glad I found it" while still ignoring me. Why am I not allowed to be fucking pissed about it? Why is it considered ""gatekeepy"" when I get upset someone who deliberately ignored me for years and insulted the shit I enjoy when I asked them to get into it cuz I thought they'd like it suddenly finds interest in it because it got popular online, not because I'd been begging them to give it a chance and to listen to me for years???? Why is that not allowed????? THAT'S SUCH AN ASSHOLE MOVE, WHY IS IT 'NOT OKAY' TO BE MAD? WHY DON'T THEY GROW A SPINE AND APOLOGIZE FOR DISMISSING ME FIRST? HOW ABOUT THAT?????

[torgawl]

unpopular opinion but a ship being queer coded doesn't make it compelling

[devotedlystrangewizard]

at first i considered engage to be one of the more strategic harder fire emblems (and compared to three houses it definitely is but thats a low bar) but no. its power fantasy. currently my main powerhouse is ivy + soren. they obliterate everything that dares to not have high resistance. wyvern rider? one shot. high def unit? one shot. everyone does decent damage at this point but for a unit i wrote off as a unit i only put on the field because i like her at first.

[thebadtimewolf]

yo.

me seeing the rtd complaints are now trying to lumping in david as if rtd hadnt had to beg on his knees for david not strolling up in the same fit as 13 and give the dt!hamlet girlies something to truly fawn over since nan's christmas special on sight

motherfucker probably got all the doctor who costumes in his closet and only wear his to throw suspicion AND ITS WORKING

yall out here reaching like we all didnt see that man on james corden stand up in only the pink suit top and georgia tennant briefs underwear on national tv as if he was posing for vogue magazine 'at home' edition

dt probably bought the blonde bob too: we dont know him. AND HE KNOW HOW TO WORK WOMEN'S CLOTHING?

dont play wit 'im dont play wit 'im dont play wit 'im. we all heard and saw that podcast for pride month the multiple usages of the nonbinary pin long before and after pride month:rtd had to beg because his own life was threatened if david didnt wear what we got for 14 like cmon now dont get too hatred blind to start spouting misinformation - reel it back

yall know full and damn well david strolled up in that 13 costume and rtd went: oh no hes hot we gotta make him a new suit we cant because of shit excuse and fumbled his own bag while david got a free 13 coat and tshirt.

we all saw those multiple takes of i dont wanna go, you think that was THE ONLY fit they had HIM in?? release the master!doctor cut of the fit.

stop it. stop. it. stop lying to urself to be more mad about it.