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comradekatara · 1 month

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Your atla analysis is the best so I wanted to ask your opinion on something I've found the fandom fairly divided on - what did you think of Azula's ending within the show proper? Unnecessarily cruel or a necessary tragedy? Would you say that her mental breakdown was too conveniently brought about in order to 'nerf' her for the final agni kai? Also, do you think it was 'right' for Zuko to have fought with his sister at all or would it have been better for him to seek a more humane way to end the cycle of violence?

okay so im saying this as someone who loves azula to death like she has always been one of my absolute favorite characters ever since i was a kid and i’ve always vastly preferred her to zuko and found her to be extremely compelling and eminently sympathetic. i am saying this now before the azula stans come for me. i believe in their beliefs. but i also think her downfall is perfectly executed, and putting aside all the bullshit with the comics and whatever else, it’s a really powerful conclusion to her arc. obviously that isn’t to say that she wouldn’t continue to grow and develop in a postcanon scenario (i have a whole recovery arc for her mapped out in my head, like i do believe in her Healing Journey) but from a narrative perspective, her telos is in fact very thematically satisfying.

no, she wasn’t nerfed so that they could beat her in a fight. the fact that she falls apart is what makes them feel that they can confidently take her on (although i do think in a fair fight katara could win anyway), but the whole point is that it’s not about winning or losing in combat. the whole point is that zuko and azula being pitted against each other in this gratuitous ritual of violence as the culmination of their arcs is fundamentally tragic. yes it’s a bad decision to fight her, and zuko should have chosen another path, but the whole point is that he’s flawed and can only subscribe to the logic he has spent his whole life internalizing through violence and abuse.

that’s why aang’s fight against ozai, while tragic in its own way, is also a triumph for the way in which his ideals prevail in the face of genocide, while zuko and azula’s fight is very patently tragic. there is no moment of victory or triumph. even as zuko sacrifices himself in a beautiful mirroring of “the crossroads of destiny” and as katara uses the element of her people combined with techniques across other cultures to use azula’s hubris and ideology of domination against her, it’s presented as moments of personal growth occurring within a very tragic yet inevitable situation. it was inevitable because azula had always been positioned as an extension of her father, and thus to disempower ozai also means disempowering azula, his favorite site of projection, his favorite weapon.

yeah, it does rub me the wrong way when zuko asks katara whether she’d like to help him “put azula in her place.” it’s not a kind way to talk about your abused younger sister. but it’s also important to understand that zuko doesn’t really recognize his sister’s pain, despite the fact that they obviously share a father, because he’s always assumed that she was untouchable as their perfect golden child and thus never a victim. and he’s wrong. zuko and katara expect a battle of triumph and glory, noble heroes fighting valiantly so that good may prevail over evil. but as they discover here, even more so than their previous discovery two episodes prior, a battle is not a legendary event filled with bombast and beauty until after it has been historicized. often a war is simply fought between pathetic, desperate people who see no other option but to fight.

aang’s ultimate refusal to fight despite having all the power in the world is what makes him so important as the protagonist. but katara and zuko both share a more simplistic view of morality and what it means to be good. and zuko assumes that by fighting azula, he can only be punching up, because she has always been positioned as his superior, and she (in her own words!) is a “monster.” and then azula loses, and his entire worldview shatters. joking about putting her in her place makes way for the realization that behind all her posturing and lying (to herself more than anyone) and performance and cognitive dissonance, azula has always been broken, perhaps even more than he is.

azula says “im sorry it has to end this way, brother,” to which zuko replies “no you’re not.” but i think azula is truly sorry, because in her ideal world, she wouldn’t be fighting zuko. she doesn’t actually want to kill him, as much as she claims to. she’s already reached the conclusion that zuko will only truly reach once their fight is over. she lacks a support system, and she needs one, desperately. if she could somehow get her family back, do everything differently, less afraid of the consequences, she would. she’s smirking, she sounds almost facetious, but really, she is sorry. as of this moment, she really doesn’t want it to end this way. but zuko cannot accept that, because in his mind, azula is evil. azula has no soul nor feeling. azula always lies.

her breakdown doesn’t come out of nowhere, either. it’s precipitated by everyone she has ever cared about betraying her. first zuko betrays her, then mai, then ty lee, and then ozai — the person she has staked her entire identity to and to whom she has pledged her undying loyalty and obedience, become nothing more than a vessel for his whims — discards her because she had the audacity to care about someone other than him. what i don’t think zuko realizes, and perhaps will never realize, is that azula betrayed ozai by bringing zuko back home. he was not supposed to be brought back with honor and with glory. azula specifically orchestrated the fight in the catacombs to motivate him to join her, and it’s not because she’s some cruel sadistic monster who wanted to separate a poor innocent soft uwu bean from his loving uncle, it’s because she genuinely believes that she’s doing what’s best for him. she believes that their uncle is a traitor and a bad influence, and she believes that bringing zuko home with his honor “restored” is an act of love. to her it is.

yes, she claims that she was actually just manipulating him so that she wouldn’t have to take the fall if the avatar was actually alive, but also, she’s clearly just covering her own ass. she didn’t know about the spirit water, and only started improvising when zuko started showing hesitation. but even if she was only using zuko, then that was an insane risk to take, because either way she was lying directly to ozai’s face. and zuko admits it to ozai while simultaneously committing treason, so of course ozai would blame azula, his perfect golden child who tried to violate his decree by bringing zuko back home a prisoner at best and dead at worst, and instead found a way to restore his princehood with glory.

we only see ozai dismissing and discarding azula in the finale, but it’s clearly a tension that’s been bubbling since the day of black sun. and we know this because we do see azula falling apart before the finale. in “the boiling rock” she is betrayed by her only friends. in “the southern raiders” we see that this has taken a toll on her, that she is already somewhat unhinged. she and zuko tie in a one on one fight for the first time. and she takes down her hair as she uses her hairpin to secure herself against the edge of a cliff. unlike zuko, who is helped by his friends and allies, who has a support system. it’s a very precarious position; she’s literally on a cliff’s edge, alone, her hair down signifying her unraveling mental state. azula having her hair down signals to us an audience that she is in a position of vulnerability. she is able to mask this terrifying moment wherein she nearly plummets to her death with a triumphant smirk, but it should be evident to us all that her security is fragile here.

and the thing is, even though she’s always masked it with a smirk and perfect poise, her security has always been fragile. azula has never been safe. azula’s breakdown is simply the culmination of her realization that no matter how hard she tries, she will never be ozai’s perfect weapon, because she is a human being. she is a child, no less. and there is no one in her entire life who loves her for nothing. zuko has iroh, who affirms to him that he could never be angry with zuko, that all he wants is simply what is best for zuko. but azula doesn’t have unconditional support in her life. she doesn’t even have support.

everyone she ever thought she could trust has betrayed her, and so she yells that trust is for fools. because she feels like a fool. of course fear is the only way; it’s what kept her in line all these years. azula is someone who is ruled by fear, and who is broken by the recognition that fear isn’t enough. her downfall is necessarily tragic because her worldview is wrong. the imperialist logic of terror as a tool for domination is her own undoing, just as ozai’s undoing is losing the weapon he has staked his national identity to. it’s a battle of ideals. aang v ozai: pacifism v imperialism. katara and zuko v azula: love and support v fear and isolation.

zuko is unfair to azula, it’s true. he tries to fight her even as he can clearly recognize that “she’s slipping.” instead of trying to help his little sister, he uses that weakness to his advantage, tries to exploit her pain so that he can finally, for the first time ever, beat her in a fight. it’s cruel, but it’s also how siblings act. especially considering the conditions under which they were raised, and how zuko has always viewed her. and in zuko’s defense, she has tried to kill him multiple times lately, both in “the boiling rock” and in “the southern raiders.” zuko is someone who gets fixated on a goal and blocks out everything else, including recognition of his surroundings or empathy for others. so of course when he’s promised to put azula in her place he’s going to exploit her weaknesses to do so. after all, isn’t exploiting his weaknesses exactly what azula does best? so he allows himself to stoop to her level, and in fact only redeems himself through his sacrifice for katara. but it is when azula is chained to the grate and zuko and katara, leaning on each other, look down and observe the sheer extent on her pain, that zuko realizes that “putting azula in her place” isn’t actually a victory. it feels really, really bad, actually.

they’re in a similar position as they were when they faced yon rha. and now it is zuko’s turn to understand that he is not a storybook hero triumphing over evil, but rather a human being, facing another human being, in a conflict that is larger than themselves. to “put someone in their place” is to imply a logic of domination, of inherent superiority, that someone has stepped out of line and must be reordered neatly into the hierarchy. but aang disputes the notion, ozai’s notion, that humanity can be classified along these lines, that there exists an ontological superiority among some and not others. so operation: putting azula in her place was always going to be flawed, even if she was performing competency the way she always does, because they’re nonetheless subscribing to her logic.

of course they should be helping azula, of course they should be reaching out to abuse victims through support instead of more violence. but first they must recognize her victimhood. first they must come to understand that they didn’t get lucky, and they didn’t dominate her because they are more “powerful,” that they weren’t “putting her in her place.” they must understand that they are not heroes fighting villains in a glorious trial by combat. that the logic of the agni kai is flawed. that they are all victims. that they are all just scared, hurt children who are still grieving their mothers.

#update: ok i readmored it 👍🏼#azula #analysis #zuko #katara #ozai #azula&zuko #azula&ozai #asks #malatilata #ugh azula is such a beautiful character….. i love her sm #her arc is so beautifully perfectly tragic #just thinking abt the mirror scene gets me sooo . distraught #this was supposed to be like 2 paragraphs lol #as is always the way . with me..

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spider-stark · 1 month

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INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this…

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her.

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.

And it still made you angry.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”

Understand.

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.

You weren’t used to this.

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…

This was different, somehow.

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.

But Peter wasn’t like other people.

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.

You knew better than to think he meant it.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.

You were good at expressing anger, though.

You were very good at expressing anger.

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.

“I will,” you promised.

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.

series masterlist

a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

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golddust-if · 3 months

Text

you're a wanted person. that isn't new to you, but after years of working, someone. no. something is after you.

you were taught by the best, your mother, she was an amazing woman but she was too trusting and in the end, that was her downfall. you won't make that mistake. you're a killer, but a righteous one. you kill those who deserve it, the disposable.

with your abnormal abilities, of which only twenty-five percent of the population is gifted with. you can succeed in what she was never able to do, rid the world of sinners.

you work for the slaughterhouse, a bar... with a dark side; in a rowdy part of the city. your mother was the owner but she didn't pass it down to you, she passed it your younger twin siblings. she believed you were far too talented to sit behind a desk, dealing with paperwork.

you've traveled all over the world, exterminating. you've claimed plenty of people, but perhaps this time you went after the wrong one. having no other choice you flee back home, but you aren't safe there either, you never are.

play with a customizable mc [gender (male or female), physical appearance, personality, sexuality]

protect those you care about or turn your back on them when they need you.

romance, befriend, or make enemies between any of the sixteen characters. four gender selectable, six male, and six female.

decide what supernatural ability you were gifted with; telepathy, telekinesis, or teleportation [figure out how to develop it and what other ability you have]

define your mc's signature weapon, fighting style and overall skillset; how you feel about killing, and the supernatural abilities you were gifted with.

this story is rated 18+ for sexual themes, substance (drug and alcohol) use, explicit language, and violence. [more themes might be added later]

the tattoo artist [male or female] [ro] wren price – partner in crime. they've been by your side since you can remember. always with a bright smile and cheeky remarks, you can't think about how your life would look without them. though they act differently with others, more serious, with a glint in their eyes you can't quite figure out. they never look at you like that.

the bodyguard [male] [ro] theodore price – the older brother of your best friend. there's no doubt in your mind that they're related. he's protective over you, although you can't hold that against him as that's what he does for a living. protect people. he's hard to get to know on a deeper level and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his mind.

the detective [female] [ro] rori hayes – now, if you weren't yourself, perhaps you could have been friends with her. but unfortunately for you... she's extremely suspicious of you and set to bring you to justice. she's recently been promoted and she cannot afford to fail, not when her family is counting on her.

the chief deputy sheriff [male] [ro] charles butler – good ole charlie, you're acquainted with each other. he can't say he isn't a little impressed with you. but you're endangering the citizens of his city and that includes his little girl. he may not have any evidence on you but you need to be brought down, and he's going to be the one that books you.

the model [male] [ro] julien ripley – son of the sheriff. he always looks uncomfortable with his own father. he’s never talked to you before and you’re almost positive he has no opinion on you. he’s a very well known face, although you can tell he doesn’t like being stared at and overall talking to anyone. *male mcs only

the journalist [female] [ro] sloane campbell – she's fast alright and always seems to know your moves. too bad she isn't on your side. always trying to announce to the world, where you are and what you're planning to do next. good thing she's overlooked at her job, consistently being handed stories that, even you know, aren't going anywhere.

the bartender [male or female] [ro] hale/hart vaughn – a family friend, and your sister's best friend. with their tantalizing words, they don't know the meaning of being serious. they are quite insufferable and you can't seem to be able to get rid of them. you have a feeling if you did, your own sister would come after you.

the florist [female] [ro] paris graham– at first glance she doesn't appear to be anything special, but that would be wrong. she's a firework waiting to explode and you want to be there when it happens. her work doesn't suit her but you have a feeling, that being a florist isn't all that she does. *female mcs only

the apartment owner [male] [ro] nolan adams – he knows about you and what you do, but he doesn’t give off the feeling of someone who’d go running to tell. you’ve always come back to lay low at his apartment complex when you need to and as long as you pay on time he doesn’t care what you do.

the actor [female] [ro] ophelia wylie – a face from your past, one you can’t say you particularly enjoy facing again. she seems remorseful for what she did to you, in fact she looks like a completely different person and she’s offering to help you, but for what in exchange… after all, no one gives anything for free.

the crime lord [male] [ro] louis foster – of course you’ve heard of lou, you’d be an idiot if you didn’t. he's tried and failed to recruit you and he never fails. you’ve been warned before, it would be a mistake to make an enemy out of a king.

the informant [male] [ro] vincent sutton – it’s rare to ever see him out, only ever seen accompanying lou. if you had the ability to feel fear, you’d fear him. he shows every sign of being against you, but then again, it seems as if he does that to everyone around him as well.

the chef [male or female] [ro] mateo/melanie olsen – you see them quite often, as their restaurant is one of your favorites. they always serve you with a smile and if they do know you, they play oblivious. they're just happy to have a customer who enjoys their food.

the doctor [female] [ro] eileen yates – serene and calming, a voice who always knows exactly what to say. she may look innocent but she’s far from it, you’ve known her for years yet you don’t truly know her, for all you know eileen may not even be her name.

the accountant [female] [ro] felix price – the youngest of the price siblings, she helps out with all the money coming into and out of the slaughterhouse. she’s always been compassionate and reasonable. you can't imagine her hurting a fly.

the rival bar owner [male or female] [ro] kinslee dean – they own a bar just a couple streets down from yours. it’s always been a problem and they’re actively trying to shut down the slaughterhouse. but they’re surprisingly level-headed and want to 'handle' this problem with logic.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [male] archer – your younger brother, he’s honestly kind of a mess. he was not ready for this responsibility but he’s trying. the mischievous boy you grew up with, you don’t know where he is anymore.

the owner of the slaughterhouse [female] iris – your younger sister, she’s always been loud and bold. but she’s changed too, she’s calm and collected. she’s trying her best to help her brother along too.

the sheriff [male] lazlo ripley – a pompous man with nothing else to do but terrorize those he thinks are inferior to him.

DEMO [Coming Soon]

warning: this story is still under development, all elements are subject to change!!

#gold dust #gold dust if #if wip #writing #interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #intro post #upcoming if #choice of games #cog #choice script

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bvtbxtch · 11 months

Text

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 1: Prom Night)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: You have finally started to find your own groove after accepting that Eddie and Chrissy were an item, and ultimately more into each other than you. But why do you still feel such a strong connection to Eddie? Why are you secretly wishing for their downfall? Everything comes to a head during your final high school play and the prom where a new friend makes Eddie rethink everything.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 9k (I got excited)

A/N: Holy hell! I never thought that this series would get so much love just from the prologue. I thought this was going to take me the next week or so to write, but I whipped this puppy out in 2 days. Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. Again, your feedback, reblogs and replies are so appreciated!

Prologue

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

April 1986

Falling in love with Eddie Munson was easy. He made it so incredibly simple. The spring production rehearsals were in full swing and you got the lead role. It meant long hours in the theatre with your favorite metalhead, sharing snacks, laughing at inside jokes and telling deep dark secrets. You had started to spend equal amounts of time at the Hellfire table, making quick friends with Jeff and Gareth, you grew to love and protect the freshmen as your own as well. Even though you had no interest in playing DnD with them, Eddie always invited you to sit in on their campaigns. Chrissy and the other jocks started to distance themselves from you on the days you would decide to sit with them, but it started to bother you less as you made more meaningful connections with people who liked you for you. The last 5 months caught you off guard. Things seemed like they were normal, better than normal even; until you went home alone after school and remembered that Eddie had someone else keeping his bed warm. Chrissy was there. Your best friend stealing your other best friend away from you and nobody knew.

Things between you and Chrissy were tense only on one end. The blonde always greeted you in the hallway and passed you notes in class, blissfully unaware of the heartache her new romance had caused you. But when you were in a group, she seemed to unconsciously take value to others in the group. Eddie and Chrissy had started their relationship in private, and you were their sworn protector. Even when you didn’t necessarily want them, you got all the gory details of how Chrissy let Eddie feel her up for the first time, or how Eddie is a lot more well endowed than many had previously thought. It killed you on the inside, but throwing yourself into the spring show gave you a healthy distraction. Cheer kept you just close enough to Chrissy to keep up the feeling that things were not falling apart between the two of you, but you could focus on what you needed to do on the field. It felt good to put effort into new friends and reignite passions, even though the love the two of your best friends shared would always take up a small residence in the back of your mind.

It was three weeks until prom. You were seriously considering not going, but you knew you would regret not going, so you decided that you would make an appearance, likely not a sober one, but you would show up. You waltzed past the posters in the cafeteria, and the ballot box being guarded by the student council, stationed around it like soldiers. You knew who would be winning each crown, there wasn’t even a point in voting for anyone else. You would be there to cheer Chrissy on for the third year in a row of winnings. Like clockwork, she would accept her crown, dance with whatever meathead got crowned king, and then help her fix her mascara that ran from her happy and “surprised” tears. You rolled your eyes thinking about it; but you were snapped out of your trance when you heard the blonde call your name. You reluctantly wave to her and the other ponytails looking expectantly at you and you start to cross the cafeteria. You are interrupted by a mop of light brown hair and a gleaming smile.

“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Gareth greets. You instantly relax as your new friend puts his arm over your shoulder and leads you to the Hellfire table. You look over Gareth’s shoulder to see the cheer table staring daggers at you. Chrissy looks disappointed, and the rest of the table looks mildly disgusted. Chrissy understood why you would hang out with the freaks but she still didn’t necessarily approve. Your image was important to her as you continued to be associated with her. You look at Chrissy apologetically, but happily turn and walk with Gareth.

“It’s good to see you, Gareth” you smile up at him.

“How are rehearsals going? You getting excited for the big show?” He remembered, and he seemed genuinely interested.

“Yeah I guess so! I’m sort of ready for it to be over so we can push through exams and get out of here.”

You slide out your usual chair at the hellfire table, across from Gareth and beside Eddie at the head of the table.

“I thought you were eating with Chrissy today?” Eddie questions.

“Good to see you too, Ed…” you mumble.

“No, it’s just… I wanted you to see if anyone had asked her to prom yet” Eddie leaned over and whispered to you.

Gareth rolled his eyes. Eddie had recently let him in on his secret relationship with Chrissy, since he was missing or late to more and more hellfire meetings and had been mentally absent during their band practices. He needed someone else within the group to be able to cover for him when you couldn’t, and Eddie trusted Gareth with his life.

“Why the hell wouldn’t she be going with you?” you snorted. You knew that Eddie and Chrissy weren’t necessarily public, but you would never think that she would brush him off like that.

“I don’t know… because I’m well… me” Eddie looked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and he instantly turned red. Your skin burned when you touched him. It felt like it had been so long since you had any physical contact which made you feel empty. Eddie was always one to give you a hug, or hold your hand or pick you up and carry you down to the theatre when you were running late. He was a tactile person and it took you until now to realize how much you really missed the way things were.

“Eddie Munson you listen to me, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with you” You turned pink as you reassured him. Gareth noticed and tried to hide his smirk underneath his hands. You kicked him under the table. You wish you were the lucky person that he would take, but you know that he would soon rather die than be seen with anyone else but Chrissy.

“ I don’t know” Eddie questions as he shyly pulls his hand away from yours. Both of you felt cold after the loss of contact. “I just really like her and I really want her to be with me, you know, not in secret… sometimes I think she’s ashamed of me.”

“Well, that’s her problem then, isn’t it?” Gareth snaps. He was so tired of watching Eddie stomp all over your heart when he knew that Chrissy was going to do the same to him eventually.

Both yours and Eddie's heads snapped to look at him. He was never one to question anything from Eddie, but he looked bothered. He stood up and left the table without a word.

“What’s up with him?” You chide. Eddie shrugs and picks at his pretzels.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could give Chrissy a note for me? I think I’m gonna ask her to go to prom with me today.”

“Ed, shouldn’t you just go up and talk to her? She’s your girlfriend for fucks sake.” You were getting sick of being put in the middle. Neither of them understood how much their romance crushed you.

“Whatever, I thought you would wanna help me, seeing as you’re my best friend and all, but I’ll just humiliate myself then”. He shoved his chair backwards and with a huff, he stormed out of the cafeteria. Eddie was always one for theatrics. Usually it was entertaining, but this felt more like a toddler’s temper tantrum. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he left.

Eddie’s departure caught the eye of Chrissy. She looked at you quizzically and you gestured for her to follow him and rolled your eyes. She discreetly got up and trotted out the exit Eddie had just used. The back exit opened up to the field outside. You could see Eddie’s figure heading out to the bleachers - the place where you often went to to get out of O'Donnell's class, or smoke after a particularly stressful rehearsal. But it wasn’t sacred to you two anymore. It was their spot now. You could see Chrissy’s figure following behind him. You took the rest of Eddie’s pretzels and ate them with a huff.

The final night of the play was here. Your last hurrah as the lead and the last show you may ever be a part of. Hawkins for sure does not have a thriving theatre community, so who knows what other opportunities you might have. You didn’t want this to be the last time though, it made your heart hurt and you wished this night would never end. You had spent your time before curtain warming up with Eddie. He could tell you were nervous.

“Sweetheart, I am telling you, you have nothing - and I mean nothing to worry about. You have been crushing this whole show run. All you have to do is go on stage and do your thing! And if anything bad happens, I tell the booth to blackout and I cut your mic!” he giggles. You didn’t find it as funny. You paced back and forth across the small stage, arms shaking and your breath hitching. None of your friends had been there to see your performance yet. You weren’t expecting many people, at least Chrissy, but she hadn’t said a word about your show or if she was coming. You pacing was driving Eddie wild. He hated seeing you so bothered.

“Y/N just relax” Eddie grabbed you by your shoulders and your whole body went stiff. Your breath caught in your chest and your heart sank to the floor. You could feel his breath on your face; you hadn’t been this close in a long time. Without being able to help yourself, your eyes flicker from his to his lips. All you would have to do is lean up and your mouth could be on his. His gaze lowered to your lips as well. You wanted to give in so badly, you wanted to kiss him, to feel like his again - but you couldn’t do that to your friend. You broke his contact and took a step back. Eddie cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly.

“Did Chris say when she was coming to the show?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to clear the thick, tense air. Eddie’s gaze went from soft and longing to hardened. Eddie looked to the floor and shifted his weight.

“I-uh I don’t know… I haven’t talked to her in the past couple of days.” Your eyes doubled in size.

“What do you mean? What happened that day after lunch?”

“I don’t want to talk about it” Eddie turned to stalk back behind the wings of the stage. You pulled his arm back and turned him towards you.

“Eddie, please. What happened?”

“She said she didn’t want to go to prom with me, okay? Are you happy now? Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” His voice boomed through your skull. His eyes were glassed over, dangerously close to spilling tears, like yours have already started to do. He had never talked to you like that.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“Oh don’t be so naive. You’re fucking happy that Chrissy doesn’t want to be seen with me. This is what you wanted the whole time, right?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper to him, tears free flowing. “Why the fuck are you coming at me now when you just wanted to kiss me? I know you felt that too and you can’t deny that to me” You yell at him with a shove. You were shaking. You wanted to pour your heart out to him now, tell him how angry you were and admit that maybe you were happy that things weren’t picture perfect for them. But it wasn’t worth it now.

“You know what, Eddie? You both deserve each other. Have a great show” you turn away from him, panting. You felt like you were going to fall to the ground because your legs felt like jello. Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders. You both looked into each other's eyes, glassy with emotion. For the first time in what seems like forever, you could not tell what Eddie was thinking. His eyes clouded with conflict, with anger, but with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. His lips quivered and his cheeks were flushed.

You felt like your head was going to explode. What was going on? You felt like all of your weight, your body and soul were all dependent on Eddie holding you up. In one swift movement he pulled you in and his lips were on yours. Your whole body tensed, your eyes remained on his face. It was so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But as much as your mind was screaming at you, his lips felt perfect on yours, like they were made to be there. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you might crumble into tiny pieces. But this is not how it was supposed to be.

You pull away and look at him. His eyes were beautiful. The glow of his chocolate irises were back. He looked at you like you were his world, but he looked guilty.

You slapped him across the cheek. You turned around and you paced back to the dressing room, leaving Eddie there with a burning cheek and a hole in his own heart. He walked backstage.

“Fuck!” He yelled and punched the cinderblock wall, making his knuckles bleed. He trudged back up to the booth to prepare for the show, the feel of your lips on his lingered on his like a tattoo.

You took your final bows with heavy applause. Your heart felt warm and finally you felt like things were falling into place for you. The stage is where you belonged and where you felt the most like yourself. You had almost forgotten that you were standing in the very spot where Eddie Munson kissed you for the first time three hours prior. He shouldn’t have done that. You shook the memory out of your head. He didn’t matter right now, this was your time. You gestured up to the booth for their applause and there your gaze met Eddie’s. He was beaming, both dimples showing from the sides of his cheeks. For a moment, you saw your proud best friend. You saw the boy you made friends with in seventh grade art class and you saw the boy that came and knocked on your door to see if you wanted to go to the arcade with him. You beamed back at him, in hopes that he felt those same feelings as well. You eyes cast down to the audience and you searched for the other face you were so wishing to see. Chrissy was nowhere to be found. Instead, you saw another mop of shorter dusty brown curls and four other hellfire shirts to accompany him. Gareth whooped when you took your final bow. Your heart soared. You finally found your moment.

The Hellfire club waited for you in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Jeff and Gareth each wielding bouquets of flowers to give you. The freshmen were buzzing about the performance. You ran to them and embraced them in a big group hug. You thought your face was going to break from how wide you were smiling.

“Holy crap, Y/N! You were amazing!” Mike gushed.

“That actually made me regret not going to more plays here” Gareth laughed and handed you the bouquet in his hands.

“Thanks guys. I am so happy you’re here” You were so relieved to be telling the truth from the bottom of your heart. It seemed like forever since you could be totally honest with yourself.

“Dude, we wouldn’t have missed it” Jeff offered his bouquet to him and you gave both older boys kisses on the cheek.

“Did I ever tell you guys that you’re the best?” You exclaimed, while you brought them in for another group hug.

“I’m just gonna run and grab my things from the dressing room and then we should go grab something to eat! I am starved!” You turned and trotted towards the stage door.

“Hey, Y/N wait!” Gareth ran up to your side

“What’s up?” Gareth shifted his weight and looked to the floor.

“I want you to know that we - I think you’re great.”

“Thanks, Gareth” you wrapped your hand around his wrist and gave it a squeeze.

“You deserve better than you’re getting, sweetheart.” Your smile faltered.

“What do you-”

“You know what I mean, Y/N…” Gareth implored. You nod.

“I know that I am not your first choice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom together? I promise I am not in like love with you or anything, and I want to go with you as a friend, but I don’t want to see you go alone, or worse go with friends you don’t like or don’t show up at all because I think you could win pro-” You cut Gareth off by giving him a tight hug and when you pull away you give him a kiss to his cheek. Your eyes wet with gratitude.

“Gareth, I would love to go to prom with you” Gareth lets a long breath out and laughs.

“Okay, great. That’s really great… cool” You squeezed his shoulder and turned towards the door again.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and then we can talk more about plans over some food” You offered.

“Okay cool! Awesome! And Y/N? We’re all really proud of you. You shone out there.”

Gareth retreats back to the group to wait for you. Eddie had now joined the group, his face looked hardened. Why did you just give Gareth a kiss on the cheek? He knew, like him, that you were a tactile person. You showed your appreciation in physical ways, but he had never seen you be so close to Gareth. It bothered him more that it should. “What was that about?” Eddie interrogated.

“Nothing man, I was just congratulating her.”

“Did she say anything about me?” Eddie pressed.

“...No? Why would she?” The rest of the group snickered at Gareth’s remarks. Eddie turned away. Not only was his mind racing, desperate to talk to you, but now he was embarrassed in front of his own group of friends. He couldn’t take being in the same room with you right now. He needed time to think.

“Alright, I’m going then.” Eddie stalked off to the double doors.

“Wait! You aren’t going to come out to celebratory dinner with us?” Dustin whined.

“Not this time. I got shit to take care of” Eddie retorted.

“Probably another hot secret date” Jeff poked at Gareth and they both laughed.

Eddie grumbled as he turned and opened the door to the parking lot, a cigarette already out of his pocket and in his mouth. He needed to find Chrissy.

It was 11:36pm. Chrissy had gotten home just an hour ago from an outing with Tiffany and Sarah. Her stomach was in knots, she was afraid her reputation was slipping. They had both made a comment about you sitting with the Hellfire club recently and she instantly went into defensive mode. She couldn’t handle them talking shit about you, her best friend and her boyfriend. The girls grilled Chrissy about why she had been being so nice towards the Hellfire seniors and started to put two and two together.

“Oh my god, did that Freak Munson put a spell on you or something when you went for that deal?” Sarah sneered.

“Holy shit! That would make sense as to why Y/N is spending so much time with him too. I heard she sucked his soul out of his-”

“Okay enough!” Chrissy boomed. She could feel her chest caving in. She hated hearing people talk about you that way, but she hated the idea of you and Eddie being together even more.

“He was really sweet and friendly to me when I went over to his trailer. He seems like a really nice guy. And Y/N is one of us, she wouldn’t do that with him.” Tiffany and Sarah sat with their mouths ajar, unwilling to believe that Chrissy would ever talk back to them like that.

“Oookay, Chris. Didn’t know you were like, in love with him” Tiffany teased.

“Ugh, as if. Let’s just drop it…” Chrissy mumbled.

She couldn’t sacrifice her already jeopardized reputation by being seen in the auditorium, where both you and Eddie would be. She wouldn’t be able to help herself around him. Her feelings towards the metalhead, although still conflicted, were growing stronger. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out in keeping this a secret if she was going to actively be seen in public with him.

She had plopped onto her perfectly made bed with a new Danielle Steele novel when she heard a knock at her window. She looked up and her face contorted into the most beautiful look of surprise to see her favorite curly haired metalhead at the window. He looked like he lost his lucky DnD dice. She opened the window quickly and stood out of the way to let him stumble into her room.

“Eddie? What’s wrong, darling?”

“Are your parents home?” he grabbed her waist and began to back her into her wall.

“Ummm no, they’re out” Chrissy breathed. Eddie pressed his lips to her neck, moved his right hand up her torso as his left hand flicked the lock on her door.

You had tried to call Chrissy a few times after you had returned from the diner with the hellfire club. You were hurt and wanted to know where she had been. But most importantly, you wanted to tell her what happened between you and Eddie. Although you also felt your friendship slipping, this was something you couldn’t keep from her. You had showered your show hair and makeup off and had gotten yourself into comfortable pjs. The flowers the boys had got you sat neatly in a vase on your nightstand; they made you smile every time you looked at them. You had just closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep when your phone rang. You answered and you heard the cheery voice that you had been waiting for.

“Hey babe! How was the show?” So she did remember, but just decided not to show up.

“It was great Chris, but it would have been a lot better if you were actually there.” You tried not to sound angry, because in the long run, you really wanted her there. She hurt you more than made you mad.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I had this thing that I couldn’t get out of with Tiffany and Sarah. I’m sorry, you know I’ll be at the next one” She offered.

“What if that was the last one, Chris? You know what, I would rather not do this over the phone… Can I come over?”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Yeah, Okay.”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

You knock on Chrissy’s door. Unlike her previous visitor, you knew you were always welcome at her house. She was quick to open the door. She looked perplexed, worried even. It wasn’t often that you saw her being anything but her shiny happy self. You knew something was very wrong. She knew too.

“Hi.” You offer

“Hi… come in” she opens the door wider to let you into her foyer. She holds her cardigan tight to her chest. You follow her up her stairs and into her bedroom. It felt so familiar but there was a tension that made this feel foreign. You sat yourself on the end of her bed while she perched herself on her vanity stool. Even though you were facing each other, you found it hard to make eye contact with each other.

“I need to tell you someth-”

“I feel like we need to-”

You both started talking at the same time and with an awkward chuckle, you stopped talking so she could speak.

“Eddie came over after the play” Chrissy whispered. You clenched your jaw.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell from the numerous hickies on your neck, Chris.” you poked. She wrapped her cardigan around her small frame tighter and kept her stoic expression.

“Eddie told me that you kissed him at the theatre” she said, her tone hard. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Is that what he really told you?” You pressed. She nodded her head, not being able to make eye contact with you.

“Huh. So what if I told you that he kissed me? That we had a fight over the fact that you won’t be seen in public with him? That he accused me of being happy that my two best friends in the whole fucking world were destroying each other, all while they pretend that I don’t exist anymore and just keep shitting on each others’ feelings, leaving me in the middle of this whole mess?” you started to raise your voice. You couldn’t believe that Eddie would ever lie about what happened, and you really couldn’t believe that Chrissy would believe him.

“That sounds like a real easy way to shift the blame, Y/N. You kissed my boyfriend” Chrissy snaps, tears threatening to spill.

“Bullshit, Chrissy! He kissed me! And I still don’t fucking know why! He kissed me, I pulled away, I slapped him in his stupid fucking face and I left.” You screamed. Your tears flowing freely. This had been the single most confusing night of your life. You thought that the two people you loved the most couldn’t betray you more than they already had.

“Well, that’s not the story that Eddie told me” She whispered.

“Yeah… it seems like Eddie told you that story all over your body, Chrissy” she gasped and lunged for her bedroom door. Your face twisted in disgust. He used you because he was mad at Chrissy, and the he used her to lessen the blow.

“Get out.” She sobbed.

“You tell me to leave right now, you are telling me that you believe Eddie’s word over mine - fuck, not even Eddie’s, a stupid fucking boy over my word. Me. Your best friend. The one who has been there for you since forever.” The air was thick. Both of your eyes were red and chests heaving.

“I do. I believe him.” Chrissy gasped.

You cackled as you stood up. You huffed out of her room and bound down her stairs. You opened and slammed her front door shut and climbed into your car. You sped out of her driveway and rounded the corner. When you got out of eyeshot from her house, you turned off your car, slammed your hands on your steering wheel and screamed at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to go see Eddie. You wanted him to tell you that it would all be okay. You wanted him to wipe your tears away and you wanted him to hold you with the same passion he did at the theatre. You wanted him to kiss you and tell you that you were right and she was wrong; but you also knew that she would be calling him right now and she would be getting the comfort you so desperately needed. You turned your ignition and started back to your house.

The next weeks of school seemed to bleed together. You felt numb. You had no play, no Chrissy and no Eddie. Every other day, Gareth would meet you in the library to eat lunch with you. You were so thankful for his friendship. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened with Eddie and Chrissy; knowing that it would cause yet another rift within their tight group. He also thought that it was best to keep the fact that the two of you were going to prom together between the two of you to prevent the same thing; But, he knew that Chrissy had pushed you to the side. You had secretly thought that she was waiting for a reason to ditch you as a friend, seeing as you weren’t what Chrissy envisioned as a perfect person to put on her social resume. You knew that the cheer girls were starting to treat her differently because you were friends and you didn’t subscribe to the jock way of life. Gareth was there to listen through it all, and although your heart was broken, it was comforting to know that you still had a friend that was willing to help you put the pieces back together. You were grateful that one of the biggest nights of the year was going to be spent with him.

May 1986

Your preparations had begun as prom week came. You took Gareth shopping for a new shirt and tie.

“Are you sure I don’t need like, a tux or something?” he questioned.

“Do either of us look like we are fancy or rich enough to be tux people?” you joked.

“Fair enough.”

“You are going to look awesome in whatever we find!” you praised. Gareth beamed back at you.

You walked through starcourt mall arm in arm. The sting from the past couple of weeks had become a dull ache and you started to appreciate the little things again. You had been bold enough to take your seat at the hellfire table last Friday and although Eddie looked at you quizzically, he didn’t say anything. It seemed like there was a silent agreement between the two of you, that you were both going to put what happened at the show behind you. As much as you both wanted to though, neither of you could forget. You both remembered each time you looked into each other’s eyes. Your conversations had begun to pick up again, they were surface level and short, but you were happy for the small sense of normalcy. You wondered if Chrissy did tell Eddie about the conversation the two of you had. But in your growth you decided that you didn’t need to know that, and worrying over it was just going to cause you more stress than it was worth.

As you and Gareth passed through the food court, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes fixed on your figure. Eddie had posted up at the mall with Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and adult friend to many of the Hellfire freshmen.

“Dude, you gotta relax.” Steve warned. Eddie’s jaw had instantly tightened and his body had stiffened when he had seen you and Gareth walking through the mall. Why the hell were you out with him?

“Why is she here with him? Why is she holding him like that?” Eddie sneered.

“Is… Is Eddie Munson Jealous? I thought you were boning the hottest girl in school?”

“Yeah boning. But we’re also dating and she doesn’t want anyone to know that”

“Shit, dude” Steve gulped.

“Yeah… Shit.” Eddie wished he had natural charm like Steve. Maybe it would make it easier for Chrissy to like him. He hated that he was questioning his whole person because of a stupid girl. But he really thought that he liked her. But how could she like him if she didn’t even want to be seen in public with him. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, overwhelmed and wanting to burn starcourt mall down if it meant that you wouldn’t be here with Gareth anymore.

You found Gareth a satin button up shirt and he stole a lavender bowtie that matched the color of your dress. You were finally laughing and joking faintly like you used to. It made Gareth’s heart soar. He cared greatly for you, but knew that your heart belonged to Eddie. It never stopped belonging to him, even if you told him repeatedly that you didn’t have feelings for the Hellfire leader. Even though he was hoping you weren’t going home with him on prom night, Gareth was more than happy to be taking you.

Tonight was the night. Eddie was sure that everyone in his graduating class was stirring with anticipation and excitement for what was going to be the best night of their lives. Eddie wasn’t as optimistic. He had put on his best black jeans (the ones with no holes in them) and was sitting on his bed, lazily strumming his guitar with a lit joint hanging out of his mouth while he waited for his wet curls to come to life. He didn’t want to go anymore. Chrissy had ensured the fact that she was going with Jason Carver meant nothing but keeping up appearances and that she would save a dance with him once she was crowned prom queen. Eddie felt like a charity case and had been feeling so increasingly often lately, Chrissy only daring to talk to him through notes left in his locker, or going to their hiding spot during their class breaks. Eddie was sure that he wanted to be in love with her. But when he kissed Chrissy, it didn’t feel like it did when he kissed you. He was so confused. Your relationship was finally amicable again, and he had the girl that he had been chasing after for years. But he was scared to see you tonight because he was worried he was going to mess everything up. He could be in love with Chrissy, but it seemed like Chrissy might not love him back. But maybe you did. Eddie let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his bed. He finished his joint and put on his burgundy dress shirt and put his arms through his vest. He put on his freshly polished rings and toed on his reeboks. He reluctantly started his van and began his drive to Hawkins High.

Gareth picked you up at 7 o’clock sharp. You answered the door with a bright smile and his face lit up the dusk behind him.

“Wow, girl. You look amazing!” Gareth looked you up and down. Your lavender sleeves landed just off of your shoulders, highlighting the pearls that rested on your collar bone. Your tiered skirt flowed and shimmered beautifully with the light.

“Says you! I told you you didn’t need to get a tux!” you slap him on the shoulder. To your surprise Gareth had showed up in a full tuxedo, sporting the shirt and tie the two of you had picked out.

“Yeah I know but my mom was so excited that I was going that she went out and bought me one anyway” You both laughed as you turned to take your polaroid camera off of the entryway table.

“Let's take a picture to commemorate the occasion” you tease. The two of you place your cheeks together and smile for the camera. The light flashes and you both giggle. You were so excited to be spending an evening with your friend.

“Jeff gonna meet us there?”

“One step ahead of you!” You heard from Gareth’s truck. Jeff stuck his head out of the back and gave you a huge smile and a wave. You laughed as you closed the door behind the two of you. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Chrissy had stationed herself at Tiffany’s directly after school to prepare for what was going to be the best night of her life. Sarah had snuck a bottle of champagne from her mother’s wine cellar and by 6pm, Chrissy could feel her own pulse in her head. She felt beautiful, she looked beautiful, but even her baby pink slip dress could not hide the insecurity on her face. The stakes were high and all she wanted was everything to go the way she wanted. Her glossed lips sank another flute of champagne while they waited for Jason and his posse to show up in the limo.

When you arrived, the Hawkins gym was decorated with tinsel and adorned with snack and drink tables on the opposite side of the stage. Your stomach fluttered at the excitement of being at your senior prom with some of the people you loved the most. You grab some punch and you Gareth and Jeff sit. Your head was on a swivel looking for a beautiful blonde, or a mop of brown curls, but to no avail. You took a big sigh and shook out your hands. Tonight was going to be a good night, you repeated to yourself. No one was going to ruin this for you.

“Wanna dance?” Gareth held his hand out to you. You gladly grabbed it and let him sweep you out to the dancefloor. He spun you and you laughed. Any thoughts of anyone else dissipated as you laughed and danced with your best friend.

Chrissy entered the gym in awe, teetering on her pumps, and brain fuzzy from the champagne. It was her night for a win and she knew that. She walked arm in arm with Jason, a smile plastered wide and eyes full of expectation. Her eyes faltered when she saw you smiling and laughing with your date, she didn’t remember his name. She longed to give you a hug and apologize. She wanted to dance and laugh with you, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus. Tonight was her night.

Eddie trudged into the gym, head already aching from the synth pop being played out of the large speakers. He grabbed a small flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He sauntered over to the punch bowl and grabbed a cup, eyes scanning for two women. He found neither. Who he did find was his hellfire clubmates sitting at a table on the outskirts of the gym. Eddie tramps to them.

“Who let the freshmen in here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine” Jeff offers as he shakes Eddie’s hand “Looking good Ed. I didn’t know you even knew what a dress shirt was”

“Ha ha… I feel like shit. How long do we have to be here for?” Eddie whines

“Dude no one is making you stay! So have some fun with your friends would you?” Dustin scolds. Eddie scowls as he sinks into a chair at the round table. He immediately senses your absence. He looks around inquisitively.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks. Jeff nods towards you on the dancefloor and Eddie’s heart stops. You looked absolutely radiant. He felt his hands get clammy and his chest got tight. You looked so happy and carefree. He missed seeing you like this, his girl the way he remembers you the best. He smiles to himself when he hears you laugh.

“Gareth, stop spinning me, I'm gonna throw up!”

His smile faded. Gareth? You were here with Gareth? He saw the mop head holding your hands and laughing with you. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he saw red. Jeff saw Eddie’s gaze harden.

“Eddie, don’t.” Jeff warns. “She’s having a really good time.”

Eddie didn’t respond. He took the flask out of his pocket and took a long swig. As he put it away, he stood up, vision locked on your dancing figures. Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. Dustin and Mike looked at him confused. Jeff shook his head at them, implying that they didn’t want to know.

Eddie sauntered up to Gareth and grabbed his shoulder. Your smile faded as Gareth turned around to face Eddie.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. Gareth looked at you apologetically.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He squeezed your hand and let Eddie guide him out of the gym. You were left in the middle of the dancefloor, too stunned to move or say anything. Dustin came to your side and asked if you wanted to sit back down with the club. You nodded, dazed, but followed after the two boys into the hallway instead.

Eddie pushed Gareth into the hallway and grabbed onto his lapels. You ducked around the corner so you were within earshot and close enough to help Gareth if he needed it.

“What the fuck are you doing Gareth?”

“What are you talking about, Munson?” Gareth pushed Eddie off and he began to smooth out his jacket.

“Why are you here with her?”

“What, like you were going to ask her to go with you?” Gareth challenged. Eddie looked at him dumbfounded. “Look, Eddie. If you really cared about her, you would let her have a good time tonight. You’re too busy with Chrissy lately anyway so I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal…”

Eddie clenched his fists and stalked towards Gareth. You covered your mouth to prevent the two from hearing your gasp.

“That’s my girl… you’re here with my-”

“Oh shut the hell up, Munson! She’s not your girl! Your girl is here with Jason fucking Carver. The guy that has been tormenting us for fucking years! Get your head out of your ass and stop playing with Y/N. She isn’t yours.” Gareth yelled. Eddie wracked out a sob and turned away from his friend. Gareth’s stomach sank and he watched his friend unravel in the hallway.

“I didn’t ask her here romantically, Eddie.” Gareth offered. “I care about her a lot, but I know that she doesn’t like me. I know exactly who she wants to be here with.” Gareth bores into Eddie, only hoping that their conversation will knock some sense into him. You slip back into the gym and sit with the hellfire club, mind racing thinking about what you just heard.

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue to keep having fun with my friend.” Gareth stepped closer to Eddie and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get your shit together, Munson, and then try and enjoy yourself for once.” With that, Eddie was left alone in the hallway. He pulled at the roots of his hair, and let a string of profanities leave his mouth. It was better than punching a wall like last time.

Gareth returned to the gym and sat next to you with a smile, reassuring you everything was fine. Gareth whispered in your ear, telling you he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin this night for you or him and that it was time to have fun and forget about everything happening outside of this night. You couldn’t agree more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a thankful hug. He laughed as the two of you positioned yourselves towards the stage as the principal announced the prom king and queen would be crowned shortly.

Eddie slithered back into the gym, his arms crossed and a grimace glued on his face. He saw Chrissy and although his heart should have skipped a beat, it did nothing. She looked beautiful, gorgeous even. But she wasn’t you. But you made it clear, and Gareth made it clear. You weren’t his and you didn’t owe him anything. You deserved to have a good night and as much as he wanted to take you away and drive off with you, he knew that couldn’t happen. So he would settle for his dance in secret, and the potential for some action after Chrissy got her ten minutes of fame.

As the microphone squealed and the gym quieted, Chrissy shifted in her chair restlessly. Her dress felt too tight, and Jason felt too close. She wanted the boy that made her feel the prettiest. She wanted the boy who would do anything for her to be beside her. She wanted to dance with the boy who told her that he adored her. Her eyes scanned around the gym and she saw him lingering against the back wall. She sent him a wave as she smiled brightly. He waved back but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She thought she knew why he was so upset. He hated seeing her with Jason. She was starting to hate being here with Jason too. When Jason was called for prom King, he patted Chrissy on the thigh, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sauntered up to the stage to receive his crown. Chrissy felt like she was going to be sick. This was the single most important moment to her. Principal Higgins held a white envelope in his hands.

“And this year’s prom queen is…” He fumbled with the envelope.

You were rooting for Chrissy. You knew that you didn’t need to be, but there was part of you that was longing for your old friend back. Maybe her winning prom queen would bring her back from her orbit.

“Chrissy Cunningham”

Chrissy opened her perfectly glossed lips into a gasp. She stood timidly and strutted to the stage to accept her crown and flowers. She flashed a beauty pageant smile and wave and sobbed a thank you to the gym. You could tell that she was definitely not sober. You worried for her, but this was also your night. She was Jason’s problem, not yours. It gave you a small bit of relief to see Eddie was not in a matching baby pink getup to the blonde’s. They didn’t come here together. You knew you shouldn’t be holding out hope, but the scene he caused on the dancefloor and now this, you couldn’t help but be a bit hopeful.

Once Chrissy and Jason took a bow as king and queen, the DJ had spun a slow song. Gareth offered you his hand again and you happily accepted it. Dancing with Gareth had been the most fun you have had in a while. You both went to the dancefloor and dramatically rocked each other back and forth.

Chrissy left the stage and as Jason went to grab her to dance with her, she tossed her flowers to him and trudged across the gym in Eddie’s direction. Jason looked back to his posse confused, he followed Chrissy’s bouncy curls to the opposite end of the gym.

Eddie nursed his flask as dancers started to repopulate the space. He saw you get up with Gareth. He scoffed and took another swig of his flask. When his eyes returned to the mass of students, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes bounding towards him. He stood in shock, not knowing what Chrissy was doing. When she reached the wall he was leaning against, she stuck out a perfectly manicured hand to him, her face set with determination. She led him to the middle of the dance floor.

“Chris, wh-what are you doing?” Eddie breathed

“Shut up, Munson. W-we are gonna d-dance:” she slurred.

“We don’t have to-” She stopped him in the middle of the gym and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could see Jason fuming behind her and he smirked down at her.

“You’re ready to stir the pot aren’t you, doll?” Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m r-r-ready to start some, some shit b-because I-I love you, E-Eddie Munson.” Her blue eyes bore into him. Did he really just hear her properly? He felt like there was only one right thing to say.

“I, I love you too, Chrissy,” Eddie hesitated. Before he could wrap his head around what had happened, Chrissy pulled his head down to hers and planted a searing kiss on him. He quickly returned her offer and swiped his tongue over her lips. She deepened the kiss. Eddie felt like he was floating, but it didn’t feel like it was a good feeling. Chrissy tasted sour like wine and Eddie’s head pounded. But feeling this was better than feeling nothing. It was better than the emptiness he felt when he saw you being held by someone else. He kissed Chrissy like no one was watching, while in reality all of the gym had directed their gaze to the world's oddest couple they could imagine.

You swayed Gareth back and forth, laughing so hard your stomach hurt and your face felt like the smile was never going to leave. Once your laughs subsided, you pulled Gareth in closely and rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and hummed in content.

“Thank you, Gareth. This has been such a great night”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I am having so much fun with you” Gareth rubbed small circles into your waist as you turned slowly. You opened your eyes and you instantly stood up, your body tensing under Gareth’s touch.

“Hey, what’s wr-” Gareth turned to look behind him and saw the picture perfect way to ruin your night. Gareth stiffened and grabbed your hand. You didn’t want to look but you couldn’t avert your gaze. You felt like you were going to be sick. Gareth grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Let’s go get some fresh air, okay?” You nodded your head and let him lead you out of the gym.

As Eddie broke his kiss, the first thing he saw was you taking in their display. Then he saw you turn and leave the gym with Gareth’s hand in yours. Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it and ran out of the gym after you.

You refused to let the tears fall. You didn’t want to ruin your night with Gareth and you didn’t want to give Eddie and Chrissy the satisfaction. Why would he look at you the way he did, why would he say those things to Gareth? Why would he call you his girl? Gareth could tell you were trying to process, so he squeezed your hand to ground you and remind you he was here for you.

“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice ring out. The voice you wanted to hear the most and the least. You turn to find Eddie standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Gareth gripped onto your hand tighter, a scowl setting on his face.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you manage to squeak out.

“I-I’m sorry” he huffed. “I’m so fucking sorry”

“For what, Eddie? For being defensive all night, telling Gareth that I’m your girl?” Gareth and Eddie both tensed. “For knowing that my heart fully belongs to you and you actively shitting on it? What is it?” You were angry. You deserved to be angry. This time, it was Eddie’s turn to cry. You walked towards him, cheeks growing hot. You came chest to chest with him when you heard the gym door fly open.

“E-Eddie, my love?” Chrissy giggled. She stopped when she saw the three of you in the hallway. “Oh no.” She murmured.

“Chrissy, go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Eddie ordered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Tears are now dangerously close to ruining your makeup.

“Hmmmm, no. I think I wanna st-stay for this Teddy” she cooed. She stumbled towards him and threw her weight on him.

“Yeah, Teddy. She might want to stay for this.” you sneer. You could feel your blood heating up, your hand tightening on Gareth’s.”Why did you kiss me in the theatre?” You take a step back as Eddie opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. “Tell me it wasn’t because you were in love with me and I’ll walk away right fucking now.” you sniffle.

“He didn’t love you, babe. He only kissed you b-back b-because he f-f-felt bad for you. That’s what he told me” Chrissy hiccupped. Eddie looked at you, his eyes now freely flowing.

“Y/N… Please” Eddie begs. You laugh at him.

“Is that the truth Eddie? Is that how you really feel? Or is that what you told Chrissy to feel better about the fact that you kissed me, and you didn’t want to stop?” You spit.”Or was it what you told her to get in her pants without any punishment?”

“Please don’t do that” Eddie whispered. You start to back away with Gareth. Eddie tries to peel Chrissy’s arms off of his torso.

“I’m leaving right now Eddie and you have a choice to make. You can come with me and that will be enough of an explanation.” You stood strong and dropped your hand that was holding Gareth’s. He whispered your name softly. You turn to him and smile tightly to let him know that it was okay. You turn back to Eddie who stands still.

“Eddie, lets gooooo.” Chrissy whines.She began to pull his arm back towards the gym. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. He looks to you, completely heartbroken as your gaze hardens at the drunk prom queen hanging around his body. You chuckle as he lets Chrissy pull his body back towards the gym.

“Great. We’re done.”

You hear Eddie release a broken Sob as you grab Gareth’s hand and walk through the double doors.

Chrissy finally drags him back towards the bustling music and plastic tinsel of the gym. He felt like he could throw up. How could he just let you walk away?

Gareth opens his truck door open for you and helps you get seated in the passenger seat. He stands in between you and his truck door. He kissed your forehead and began to run his hand up and down your arm.

“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?”

“You know what, a milkshake sounds really fucking great right now” you smile. Gareth laughs and you eventually join him.

“Milkshakes coming right up.”

Taglist:

@mxcheese , @anislabonis-love , @zenathebeautiful , h-ness1944 , @nymphetkoo , @tlclick73 , @darknesseddiem , @nega-omega , @them-cute-boys , @eggo-segual , @browneyes528 , @ali-r3n , @micheledawn1975 @partydulce @eddies-puppet , @elvendria , @itsjustwous , @littlemisslovestoread , @kjcmama , @chloe-6123 , @navs-bhat , @loveforreading , @thegirlthatsfalling , @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e , @metalhead-succubus

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lyrablack1883 · 24 days

Text

Death(s)

Death is a merciful being, or so he, himself thought. He, who stood at the pinnacle of magic, in his life granted mercy to those who he dearly loved. One and foremost to his lover and others to those who, he could call his “sons”.

The three brothers, grew up with pain embedded into their flesh and bone. The first brother received it from the way he was brought to this world, the second alongside his mother received it from his own father, and the third received it from the family that was supposed to raise him. But alas, they continue to survived and finally meet death halfway through their life. Death seeing himself in them, welcomed and congratulate them for surviving.

Death asked them what is their most deepest desire.

The eldest brother, wished for power, magic more powerful than any in existence. The second brother, wished for protection for the one he loved. And the third brother, wished for his life to be void of pain. Death guided them to achieve their wish but never granted them any of it directly. Even though he had the power to granted it in seconds. In the end, none of his sons’s wish came true, since to be loved by death only means to gained his mercy. His mercy to then orchestrated your death the way he thought you wanted to. But beware, for his mercy is not freely given, for everything came with a price especially for his love.

Death loved his sons, that’s why he keeps delaying their death even though their flesh already rotted, blood coated into black, and their bones snapped with each step they took. Death gives mercy, as he is a merciful being. his hands shall be clean and devoid of his sons’s blood. For his sons, he allowed one to kill him directly, one to kill his younger siblings, and one to end them all. As he watched their downfall from his throne, death smiled to himself, praising himself to be the one who saved these poor souls from misfortune. His three beloved sons. His masterpieces. His very own deathly hallows.

#harry potter #severus snape #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #deathly hallows #animatic #fanart #digital illustration

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sanjisboyfie · 7 months

Text

one piece smau: dating sanji edition

— modern! au , so fun , slight nsfw bc sanji is funny like that ig LMFAO

— SANJI X MALE READER one of my favorite pairings to ever cross the universe

liked by [name]s.chef, uso_pp, 9k others

lvrboy[name]: oh my god hes so fine someone give me this guys' number

[name]s.chef: BEAUTIFUL BOY MY NUMBER IS XXX-XXX-XXXX PLEASE SAVE MY CONTACT AS PRINCE SANJI I WILL ALWAYS BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL

-> dni_nami: no fucking way, why did this guy just leak his number TO HIS OWN BOYFRIEND

uso_pp: the day sanji doesn't comment in all caps to his boyfriends posts is the day the apocolypse comes

-> roro.zoro: fr why he always yelling at him....

-> freeluffy: sanji is so aggressive to his own boyfriend, should we help [name]? -> [name]s.chef: YOU MORONS HAVE NEVER BEEN IN LOVE AND IT SHOWS

-> uso_pp: ruhroh he angry

love.pudding: is he single?

-> [name]s.chef: I AM A GAY MAN AND IN LOVE WITH MY FUTURE HUSBAND - I AM NOT INTERESTED IN ANYONE ELSE BUT MY LOVER, I AM A LOYAL MAN TO MY BOYFRIEND. DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME OR HIM IF YOU WISH TO DATE EITHER OF US. WE ARE DEEPLY IN LOVE AND ALWYS WILL BE.

[liked by lvrboy[name]]

liked by freeluffy, dni_nami, boahancock, and 10k others

[name]s.chef: I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND HE MAKES ME SO HAPPY HES THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE HIM

tagged: lvrboy[name]

dni_nami: never seen you smile that wide before

-> roro.zoro: i wish i never saw it, it's terrifying

-> [name]s.chef: i fucking hate you, dont interact with any of my posts you idiot

-> [lvrboyname]: holy shit whenever you guys breathe do you have to insult each other

-> [name]s.chef: I WON'T ANYMORE MY BABY

SUPERCOLA: do you guys remember when sanji said he hated [name] and rejected the idea of being in love with him.

-> lvrboy[name]: LMFAOAOOA

-> {name]s.chef: that wasnt me, that was my evil twin that was plotting on my downfall.

liked by [name]s.chef, roro.zoro, and 10k others

lvrboy[name]: personal bottle boy <3

tagged: [name]s.chef

[name]s.chef: until the bed breaks. as many rounds as you want, any position you want, anything.

-> dni_nami: sanji please be fucking normal challenge

[liked by roro.zoro and 100 others]

dr.law: is this sanitary???

-> lvrboy[name]: deez nuts in your mouth are about to be sanitary

-> [name]s.chef: TELL HIM BABY TELL HIM !!!

-> dr.law: this shit doesnt even make sense ???

liked by [name]s.chef, lvrboy[name], and 15k others

freeluffy: i can't eat when sanji is making out with [name] across from me. i'm never going out with these two again.

tagged: [name]s.chef and lvrboy[name]

uso_pp: LMFAO i thought it was known to never go out with sanji and [name]? sanji just ends up ignoring you and only paying attention to [name]

-> [name]s.chef: and that's the way it should be. who else should i pay attention to when my beautiful, handsome, erethral boyfriend is right in front of me?

robinkills: i have never heard luffy sound so serious before, what did you two do to him?

-> roro.zoro: probably traumatize him

lvrboy[name]: i'm sorry lu, i'll make it up to you sometime

-> freeluffy: pay for my meals on campus for a week straight :D

-> lvrboy[name]: i'll pay for it for two weeks, i'm really sorry luffy </3

-> [name]s.chef: DONT STEAL MY BOYFRIEND FROM ME YOU FUCKING IDIOT I'LL SKEWER YOU ALIVE

roro.zoro: i think i vomitted in my mouth a little bit, happy for you guys ig.

-> lvrboy[name]: thank you...?

liked by [name]s.chef, dr.law, and 10k others

lvrboy[name]: my bby in crop tops >>>

tagged: [name]s.chef

[name]s.chef: I WILL WEAR WHATEVER YOU WANT BABE WHATEVER MAKES YOU HAPPY, I'LL WEAR. I HAVE EYES FOR NO ONE ELSE BUT YOU!! I LOVE YOU!!!

-> lvrboy[name]: i love you so much muah

SUPERCOLA: sanji and [name] stop making out challenge literally fucking impossible.

[liked by dni_nami, uso_pp, and 90 others]

-> skullnsoul: they're so funny

liked by lvrboy[name], roro.zoro, and 14k others

[name]s.chef: my beautiful boy suprised me by preparing me food with his own recipe today, i think i could cry genuine tears. you guys don't understand how happy i am that i found him and am now able to call him mine. i will love [name] until my last breath. i am so, so lucky.

tagged: lvrboy[name]

uso_pp: okay i guess this was a cute post or whatever.

[liked by dni_nami, robinkills, and 100 others]

lvrboy[name]: sanji i'm gonna cry :< i love u sm too

-> [name]s.chef: pls dont cry my love

ttchopper: my favorite couple, you two are so sweet!

roro.zoro: cant even say anything mean, this is very heartwarming

-> lvrboy[name]: sanji won't tell you this but he giggled and kicked his feet when he read this.

lvrboy[name]'s story

my boyfriend's so fucking sexy-

[name]s.chef replied to your story: CAN I KISS YOU PLEASE COME BACK TO BED SO I CAN KISS YOU PLEASE CAN I KISS YOU CAN I PLEASEEE-

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece #one piece smau #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #one piece modern au #x male reader #male reader #sanji x male reader #sanji x reader #sanji male reader #sanji imagines #male reader smau #smau #whoever sent me that anon ask is seething rn fs

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roadkill-punk · 19 days

Text

siblings :3

Misc. headcanons below the cut

This is all post black egg and fall of Hallownest, I'm just bad at remembering to draw Hollie's scars.

The stack! Hollie does that when they're bored and want to bother Hornet, like how some dogs will rest their head on you when they want attention.

The ideal outcome to being a pest is chin scratches, riight where their mask ends and their void-body begins. That's the best spot.

Hollie is absolutely purring anytime they get affection, Hornet does too sometimes, but she's a little self conscious about it.

That vessel is a fucking menace. Their favorite activities include making Hornet's day just slightly more irritating. This ranges from moving her things just a few inches to the side of where she left them to demanding attention while she's busy to 'accidentally' knocking her into various bodies of water.

These two have been through a lot together at this point, and given how starved for security and affection the both of them were as children among other things like being born into a death and chaos and given immense responsibility that neither of them had any control over that eventually led to the downfall of everything they knew and loved- they both were quick to open up to each other and seek out comforts that they previously were denied.

That's not to say it didn't take them a damn long time to approach each other and directly ask for things, both of them have their own reasons for being unsure about that sort of thing.

Their recovery was a process but they got there in the end, and now they have each other without the constant fear of not living up to the egregious standards of royal parents or being an impure, vile, worthless stain on the world :3

Their relationship is so sweet honestly they deserve to be happy and healthy and with family that loves them

Even if sometimes Hornet wants to rip Hollie's head off.

#hollow knight #art #digital art #fanart #my art #hollow knight art #the hollow knight #the pure vessel #hk thk #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #headcanons #roadkill rambles

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cherubfae · 2 months

Note

Request: You know that scene from The Show must go on with Charlie and Vaggie singing the reprise of "More Than Anything" On the night before the battle with the angel exorcists? Well can you do that but with Husk and his s/o with the two talking about how much has happened but they’ll always stand by each other’s side even if they’re freaking terrified about the outcome of it all and saying the word “I love you” for the first time in the process

|| Is 'I Love You' Enough to Survive This? || Husk x reader

Combining these two together!! Here ya go! :3

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, hazbin spoilers, fighting, violence, established relationship

a/n: the alastor fan in me tried my best to not skew this is Al's favor 😭😭 I'm so down bad for him

If this was the end, you needed to make it count. The Exterminators were coming any minute now and there's no telling just how long Alastor's shield would hold. The weight of your deal with the Radio Demon was heavy in the back of your mind.

"Let Husker go, take me instead! I'll do what you want, just set him free, please! I'll make a deal with you!" You hold your hand out towards the red demon, his wicked grin only deepening.

"Hey, babe, no! Don't, it's not worth it--" A burst of green magic fills the hallway, cutting off Husk's sentence; Alastor's hand is clasped in yours. The deal has been struck.

Alastor smirks, snapping his fingers. The glowing green collar and chain leaves Husk's throat and wraps around yours. A contract materializes before you, you do your best to drown out Husk's pleas as you sign your soul away to Alastor.

"Alastor, you twisted fucker! Let them out of this! They don't owe ya anything!" Husk snarls, fur fluffing up. Alastor clicks his tongue, lips curling into a smirk. Radio static seems to purr from the demon.

Unphased as always. "They made their choice, Husker. You're free. Enjoy it."

It wasn't long after that the Hotel was besieged by the angelic Exorcists. Alastor's shield shatters beneath the holy power of Adam and Lute; the war has begun. Let the extermination commence.

Bodies littered the front yard of the hotel. The surviving angels have retreated, carrying Adam's dead body with them. Sir Pentious had bravely sacrificed himself for his friends and Alastor retreated to lick his own wounds from facing Adam head-on.

You were standing in yours and Husk's shared bedroom. He wouldn't look at you. His shoulders dropped low, there is pain in his yellow eyes.

"I appreciate what you did for me, honey, but I wish you didn't. Alastor is not the kind of person ya want owning your soul, but at least he seems to like ya well enough. I'm thankful for that. Ya got moxie." Husk sighed, turning to fully face you now. "I was scared to lose you. Before I could even tell you that I love ya. I love you, darlin'."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

Your hands slip against his paws, smiling as you cup his furry cheeks. "I love you too, Husker." Nuzzling his nose softly, you share a slow, intimate kiss. "I've got a word or two to share with Alastor.. He may look like a fuckin' twig but he's strong. His downfall is that he's also on a leash. I'm gonna get you out of this, even if it's the last damned thing I do."

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #cherubfae 2024

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nexysworld · 4 months

Text

Summary: It was like staring at a finished puzzle, everything clicking together correctly. Yet despite his fantasies, and how peaceful you looked – he knew deep down a piece was missing. The truth was you weren’t really his, at least not in the way he wanted, and he was going to have to change that. Pairing: RE4R!Yandere Leon x Reader Tags: Suggestive themes but no smut, Yandere, Mentions of murder, stalking, canon typical violence, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, drugging A/N: This was a ko-fi commission for a really wonderful person. I had so much fun writing a little self contained story about Yandere Leon. <3

Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists || Ko-Fi

Part I: The Small Details

Leon tapped his fingers against the scratchy worn fabric of the couch as he watched you curled up on the other end of the sectional nearly asleep. The colors of the TV flashing across your skin, the only light in the dark living room. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d found himself admiring you like this – running his eyes over the contours of your face, imagining what it would be like to trace them with his fingers. You were always the cutest like that, eyes lidded, mouth parted slightly as you teetered between dreamland and reality.

It was like staring at a finished puzzle, everything clicking together correctly. Yet despite his fantasies, and how peaceful you looked – he knew deep down a piece was missing. The truth was you weren’t really his, at least not in the way he wanted. As close as the two of you were, he was aware of the fact he was only a friend to you.

Every time he felt he was getting closer to making you his, you would wander off into the arms of another asshole. Every time it ended the same way, with you running back into his arms sobbing, if only you could see how much better off you’d be with him. If only you knew.

Though, what he neglected to tell you was he was the reason each of them ran off. Typically it didn’t take much. Some blackmailing via the use of government tools coupled with the threat of violence usually did the trick. They’d be off, tail between their legs leaving you with nothing more than a break up test or worse, being ghosted. He hated to see the downfall of it, the way the tears spilled down your cheeks as your face scrunched up. The sad way you’d ask him if you'd done anything wrong. It crushed him, but he knew it’s what you needed, what was best for you. Leon sighed, scooting slowly over to your sleeping form reaching a hand out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face before leaning down to place a soft kiss to your forehead. He let his lips linger there, taking in the scent of your hair and relishing the feeling of the contact. ‘Goodnight Sweetheart.’ He thought to himself before making his way to his own bed, down the short hallway. He curled under the plush sheets wishing you were with him.

The next morning he found you moving about the kitchen, cracking some eggs into a pan while the smell of bacon wafted towards him from the other. He loved watching you do things, somehow you managed to make even the mundane beautiful in his eyes. “Good morning.” “Oh, morning!” You said in return, pushing the eggs around in the pan as they cooked. “Hope you’re hungry. I think I cracked too many eggs by accident.” “Starving actually.” He went to pull the chair out to sit, interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. A sigh escaped his lips as he saw Hunnigan’s name on the caller ID. If there was anything of note about the woman, it was that she had the world’s worst timing. “Give me a minute.” Leon said, bowing out of the room. It was just a run of the mill mission, but the details took forever to get through, at least that’s how it was feeling when all he wanted to do was get back to you. The moment the woman finished her speech, Leon tucked his phone back into the pockets of his cotton gray pajama pants before sliding back into the kitchen and taking his seat. “Work again?” You asked, scooping food onto his plate. “Unfortunately.” He replied, slightly muffled as he was already chowing down. He used his hand to cover his mouth before swallowing. “You know, they’ve been reaching out to you a lot lately – are they ever going to give you a break?” Taking your own seat, he was already half finished by the time you scooted in and took your first bite. He shrugged, a smile coming to his face at your concern. “Comes with the territory.” “Territory? I mean the last time I was over here they were calling you at what, 3am? You had to book it out the door before barely saying goodbye.” “Like I said, it comes with the territory.” “Uh huh…” You replied, an eyebrow raising. “What kind of territory are we talking about? I know you’re not a doctor, or a cop, so what kind of job has you on-call 24/7?” Leon let out an annoyed sigh. This was a conversation the two of you have had many times since you met. He’d tried just about every tactic of avoiding the topic as he could, but you seemed unrelenting in your quest for knowledge about his line of work. “I work for the government.” “Sure, I know that, but most government workers are like 9-5’s, I thought that was the point.” “Not that kind of government – You’re always asking me this, why do you want to know so bad?” “Because you’re my friend Leon.” Ouch. “And I care about you.” ‘Then why can’t we be more than friends?’ He thought to himself before shooing the thought from his brain. He considered your words for a moment, taking a sip of his orange juice. “Will you take no for an answer?” “No!” You said firmly, a triumphant smirk overtaking your features. “Especially not this time. C’mon Lee, please? Please?”

As much as he wanted to stay firm, like he always did, something about this particular morning and the sound of your pleading voice cracked his shell just a little. “I can’t tell you, because I don’t want you to get hurt because of it.” “Oooooh spooky.” You replied with a roll of your eyes. “If you won’t tell me I’ll just have to start guessing. Let’s see, what kind of government job would be dangerous and have you darting off at all hours of the night. Hmmm.” You brought your chin to your face in mock thought – Leon would’ve thought it was adorable if not for how much he didn’t want to be having this conversation. “Are you in the mafia?” Well that’s not what he was expecting, he almost choked on his OJ, brow raising as he let out a snort. “Mafia? You can’t be serious! Where’d you even get that from, you think just because I’m Italian I’m in the Mafia.” He teased in return. “It makes sense, a secret life of crime – working with the government to take out rival families.” “You watch too much TV.” “Ok, ok, that was ridiculous. But seriously, I thought we were close. You can’t even tell your best friend what you do for a living? Do you not trust me? I’m hurt.” Your bottom lip jutted out into a mock pout and you batted your eyes dramatically.

He knew you well enough to know that you were half kidding. The pout and exaggerated tone were part of the joke, but damn if that look still didn’t kill him inside. “Fine.” He conceded. “I work for a special part of the federal government. Let’s say we handle things like viruses and stuff.” “Viruses…and stuff?” The way you tilted your head like a confused puppy made his heart trump out of beat for just a moment. “What does that even mean?” “I guess you could say we clean up after them, make sure they don’t spread. That kind of thing.” He was hoping her questioning would stop soon if he gave just enough information to satisfy your curiosity finally – he should have known better though. “But then why would knowing that have anything to do with me getting hurt?” Your eyebrows knitted together, frustration evident on your face. He wanted to smooth out those anger lines with him thumb. “Leon, there’s something you’re not telling me and I don’t like it. What do you really do for a living?” “I just told yo–” “No, cut the crap. Tell me the truth. The real truth. The whole truth –” “Or so help me god? What is this, an interrogation at the witness stand?” “Not funny.” You said firmly, crossing your arms as you leaned back in your chair, staring him down. “Not only am I hurt that you’re still not being honest, but now I’m worried too. Worried about you.” Leon matched the intensity of your stare, taking the last bite of his food. He mulled over things quickly, knowing he had to reply soon before the situation grew more tense. On the one hand, he still didn’t want to open that can of worms with you. On the other hand, maybe if you did understand what was out there, what he protects you against every day it would bring you closer. Maybe it was just the thing he was needing to take things to the next step, have you all to himself – to finally fit that last piece of the puzzle into place.

“Ok, if you really want to know what I do for work, let me show you.” “Really?” “Really. But I do have to warn you, you might see some pretty gnarly things.” “I can handle gnarly.” “If you say so.” He knew this was a gamble on his part, but he was too committed now to back out. Scooting his chair out, he stood grabbing his dishes. “Wait here for me, I’ll be right back.” He gently set the glass and porcelain into the sink as you gave him a thumbs up, a tiny piece of egg stuck to the corner of your mouth. Instinctively he reached out, flicking it off your face. “So messy.” He chided, teasingly. Leon headed down the hall and past his bedroom at the locked door of his home office. He’d never let you in there before, and he wasn’t about to let you in there now. Too much evidence of his love for you, among other things. Pictures of your smile scattered about in the forms of polaroids, documents he printed for keeping tabs, and an extra file cabinet dedicated to those he deemed unworthy of your life.

None of that was important though, what he was really looking for was the heavy metal laptop on the center of the cheap wood desk. The “Property of the United States Government’s Division of Security Operations” logo was worn down from years of use. Leon hadn’t bothered to request a new one, only ever using it for filing and reading reports – or a virtual meeting on the rare occasion. Grabbing it, he slunk back to the living room, leaning back down onto his couch.

A wave of anxiety washed over him as he considered what he was truly about to do, what he was about to show you. “Done eating?” He asked, patting the seat next to him. You responded by standing and stretching for a moment before walking over and plopping down next to him. Eyeing the laptop a smirk came to your face. “I guess you really do work for the government. I’ll be damned.” “The sticker give it away?” He asked with a chuckle. With the press of a button, the laptop came whirring to life. As it loaded he looked at you. “I know this probably goes without saying, but anything you see is confidential. Anything. I could get in a ton of trouble if a civilian saw any of this.” “Scary. But yeah I get it.” He could see the subtle change in your expression. Underneath that excitement and confidence there was a hint of trepidation.

Leon gave you one more moment to back out, before he entered his information into the login screen. Once the desktop was in view, he opened the web browser and pressed his finger to the scanner on the keyboard. “D.S.O Case Archives,” read the top of the web page. He toggled through a few navigational pages until finally an archive of folders appeared. “There’s two case files I want to share with you. The first was the incident that lead me to my current job.” He clicked on the file titled, “Raccoon City,” a document appearing on the page. Details of the year and date were at the top along with a case summary. “Go ahead, check it out.” He handed the laptop over to you, letting you scroll through the document. Eyeing your face carefully, he studied each change in your expression, each hitched breath as you made your way through it. A gasp left your mouth at a photo halfway through. It was a clip taken from security footage, one of the ‘lickers’ as Leon remembered dubbing them. The monster had its tongue out, deformed face almost staring at the camera. “This is a joke right? That can’t be real.” Despite your best efforts to remain brave, Leon could sense the unease beneath it all. “It’s not a joke.” He assured softly.

“Is that you?” You asked, pointing to a picture farthing down on the document. It was an old photo of himself, still in his RPD uniform. It looked more like a mugshot, he was in a gray room bandage wrapped around his shoulder. “Yeah. It was my first day as a cop when the outbreak happened.” “You were a cop, I never knew that…. But Raccoon City? I’ve never even heard of a place like that.” “That’s because you didn’t read far enough.” You leaned back for a moment taking in that information before returning to the webpage, scrolling through as you finished the report, eyes scanning over every line of text, every image. “Wait, the government bombed the city? Just like that? Wiped off the planet?” He nodded solemnly, patting you on the back. “Yeah. They thought it was the only way to prevent national panic and contain the outbreak. I managed to get out, but so many people weren’t as lucky.” “I don’t understand.” “That’s just how the government operates –” “No… I mean… Why would you work for them now? After knowing what they did?”

Not expecting the question, he thought for a moment before deciding to just be truthful. “It wasn’t my choice. After I managed to get out, I was picked up by some agents wanting to interview me. Afterwards I was “asked” to join this government program.” He shrugged it off. “I don’t mind it though. I became a cop because I wanted to help people, and I still get to. The money’s good, and if not for this job I’d never have moved here and met you.” A dry laugh escaped your lips at the last part. “You’re insane. But I guess it’s good you can think positively after…that. I’ll be honest though, I don’t know if I fully believe this. I don’t think you’re lying but like, monsters? Zombies? If I didn’t know you as well as I did I’d be calling you crazy.” ‘If only you knew just how insane I am for you.’ He nodded in agreement. “I get that. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it either.” “And so like, you deal with things like that all the time?” “I wouldn’t say all the time. Some missions are more normal y’know? Stand bodyguard for some high ranking official. Escort this person, investigate this lead – a lot of which don’t go anywhere.” He shrugged it off. “What…what was that second one you wanted to show me?” “Are you sure? You look a little freaked out. We can stop.” “No, no I want to see. Please.” You said, handing the laptop back to him. He didn’t question you further, instead exiting the document before scrolling to find the next one. “The Kennedy Report - Las Plagas” was the title. Again, the folder contained a document littered with information and photos.

Not even waiting for him to speak, you grabbed it from him, hunching over as if getting as close to the screen as possible would help you take in the information. “Wait, you wrote this report? And…Leon this was the last time you were away.” The shock on your face was palpable, mouth agape, eyes wide. He found it amusing that information alone had such an effect on you and you hadn’t even made it to the meat of the report yet. It made his heart thud. “Yeah, and yep.” He confirmed. “The President’s daughter? No way…” You continued to mutter little comments to yourself as you read along – nose nearly touching the monitor by the time you reached the first picture of a plaga. “Jesus christ! What the fuck is that thing?” He could tell you weren’t really asking, as you just continued your venture through the webpage, face becoming more contorted with confusion and an unreadable expression to Leon. The bottom of the report held a photo of him and Ashley Graham standing next to one another outside a helicopter. You reached out to touch the screen, finger on his chest. The look of discomfort on your face was quickly replaced with a smile, as if you were masking whatever it was you were really feeling. “That’s what you wear at work? If that shirt was any tighter you might bust through it, really showing off the muscles, damn.”

He couldn’t contain the snort that left him. You were too precious, making jokes to deflect how you were really feeling. It was something Leon himself was all too familiar with, just another reason he knew you were that missing piece to him.

Grabbing the laptop, he closed the lid and set it on the side table. He didn’t speak, giving you a few minutes to process.

“That was real?” “Yeah.” “All of it?” “Yeah.” Nodding, you flopped sideways to rest your head on his shoulder. He felt his chest tighten at the contact, resisting the urge to wrap his arm around you and kiss your forehead – just like he’d done when you were sleeping. “Thank you for telling me. I get now why you didn’t before. I’m sorry for prying.” “It’s alright. I get the curiosity.” Daring to take a chance, he did wrap his arm around you, combing his fingers through your hair. He felt you relax against him. “Made me feel a little better actually.” “Really?” “Yeah, it’s not often I get to open up like that.” “Can I ask you a question?” “Of course.” “You said part of why you never told me before was because you were worried about me getting hurt. What…what did you mean by that?” “Working on missions like that puts me in front of a lot of dangerous people. That’s not even including the government itself – they like their secrets. I guess I’m just worried the more you know, the more there’s a possibility of you being a target.” It was there, only for a second, but he caught it – a look of fear, it nearly crushed him. “Don’t worry though.” He added. “I’d never let anything happen to you. Ever. Promise.” “Lee…” The nickname you only used on special occasions, your voice so soft if you weren’t leaning on him he wouldn’t have heard it. “Yeah?” He didn’t expect the way you moved so quickly, moving so you were straddling his lap, staring directly at him – looking into his eyes with an intensity he’d never seen before. You gulped down and took a few breaths in as if to stop yourself from crying before wrapping your arms around him tightly, chin resting tightly on his shoulder. He mimicked your actions, squeezing you tightly against him. It affirmed his decision that telling you was the right thing to do. He could already sense that you two were closer after this, knew you’d be his soon. For now though he chose to linger in the moment, enjoying the way you felt against him – how you clung to him.

Part II: The Short Interlude

Leaving that conversation with Leon left you feeling indescribable. It was easy at first to shake away those icky feelings, burying them under the ongoings of day to day life – but at nighttime the struggle would begin. The lingering memory of those awful images and nearly worse the stories behind them.

Denial was the first thing you tried, shaking your head as if the thoughts would empty themselves too. ‘That would never happen here. That stuff couldn’t possibly be real. The government wouldn’t really do that, right?’ The more you thought about it though, the more feelings of anxiety would wash over you. It had you rethinking a lot of things, things you wouldn’t normally have taken so seriously. Several late nights were spent suddenly missing your family, or old friends you haven't seen in a while.

The growing ‘what ifs’ weighed on you heavily to the point where you decided you wanted to be home again, close to your loved ones. If god forbid something happened they were who you wanted to be beside.

Of course you felt bad for leaving Leon, especially after how he admittedly opened up to you. It made you feel guilty, like the world’s shittiest friend. But worst of all, you knew you’d miss him. He was a great friend. The best really, more than you could ever ask for. The thought of leaving him behind tugged at your heart – but this is what you needed, at least for now.

It took all of your willpower to muster the courage to pick up the phone and dial his number. Swallowing down the nervousness, you pressed the cool glass to your ear, letting it ring. Each loop of the dial tone made your resolve falter. About to end the call – he picked up on the last ring. “Hey, Lee.” You said, pacing back and forth inside your own apartment, not wanting to stand in any one spot too long. “Hey, it’s been awhile.” “Yeah – you know I wanted to apologize for that. I know I’ve been acting really weird since the day you showed me all that.” “That’s ok, I know it was a lot. Is everything alright? You don’t normally call, just stop by.” “Yeah, yeah.” You said clearing your throat awkwardly. “I just had something I wanted to tell you, that’s all.” “Something to tell me over the phone and not in person?” You could hear the speculation in his tone. “Sounds like it must not be good news.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s bad news.” “Uh huh…. So what’s up then?” “Well this past weekend I went to visit my parents. While I was out there, I started looking around at places to move to.” “Wait, you went out of town and didn’t tell me? And now you’re talking about moving? Why?” “Well, I didn’t think I needed to tell you.” Shocked by his upsetedness you frowned, biting your lip in thought before adjusting the phone between your neck and shoulder. “Look, just after everything it got me thinking. I just think being near family is what I need right now.” “Is it because that stuff freaked you out? Because if it is, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent–” “No, no….I mean maybe a little. I know you didn’t mean it but –” “Come on, your whole life is here, you can’t really be planning on moving so abruptly.” “Leon –” “I’d miss you.”

Those words crushed you. “I’m going to miss you too, Lee. A lot.” “Then don’t go.” His voice was quieter now, softer. If the phone wasn’t right up to your ear, you wouldn’t have heard it. “Leon, I have to.” “No you don’t.” His voice was flat, authoritative – the abrupt tone shift shocked you.

“I already made an offer on an apartment.” The phone clicked, ending the call on his end. You stared down at the black screen for a moment before trying to redial the number. It rang twice before going to voicemail. You tried again a second time. Then a third time. By the fourth of him clearly declining your calls, you gave up. ‘Asshole, hanging up on me.’

It’s not how you wanted any of this to go. You slumped down onto your own couch, head in your hands as you thought about everything. “Man this sucks.” It was starting to get dark out, the streetlamps of the parking lot just flickering on, adding a soft yellow glow through the window. Even though you had lived alone this whole time, suddenly your apartment was feeling very lonely. You bounced your leg as you thought about your next move.

With nothing immediately coming to mind, you decided to try and distract yourself, flipping through the channels of your TV, not lingering on any one station for more than a minute or two, before starting back at the top of the list. When that didn’t work, you curled up under the throw blanket hoping sleep would be enough to distract you – instead, all it did was bring back the memories of the countless times you found yourself wrapped under one of Leon’s blankets, always soft and smelling like that fancy cologne he wore, as you’d fall asleep at his apartment.

You fell asleep missing him.

Part III: The Whole Picture

The morning sun beat down heavily against your eyes. Mumbling you rolled over, not ready for the day to start yet, hands grasping at the plushness beneath you. The softness of the duvet lulled you back into that sweet sinking feeling, nearly unconscious again when it hit you.

You fell asleep on the couch.

Where was the scratchiness of the knitted throw blanket? How did you have so much space to move? Jolting upright, you looked around, nearly blinded by the light against your sore sleep-filled eyes. Rubbing them quickly, you looked around while they adjusted, heart racing as you realized it wasn’t your living room. “What the–?” It was a plain white room, nothing really in it besides the bed and closet doors at the far wall.

Attempting to stand, you almost fell, catching yourself against the tall bed. It felt like you were drunk, your head was clear, but your limbs felt numb and heavy, like walking with noodles for legs. It took a moment of deep breaths and sheer will for you to finally fling yourself from the bed to the window, putting your weight against the sill.

All you could make out in the distance was a flat field of tall grass blowing in the wind, stopping only at a wall of trees. It was a far cry from the urban cement and neon lights of the city. You craned your neck to see if you could make out anything recognizable in either direction – it was just more of the same. A sea of unkempt grass surrounding whatever building you were in.

A noise behind you made you jolt with panic, in fear you let go of the sill attempting to run as you collapsed to the ground.

“Oh sweetheart…you’re not ready to be up and walking yet.”

The familiar voice made you turn instantly, eyes locking with those sky blue ones you were so accustomed to. Your mind was so scrambled by everything going on you didn’t even register the pet name at first. “Leon?” “In the flesh.” He replied, moving to crouch down next to you. He ran his hand from your shoulder down your side to your legs, eyes scanning every part of you. “You alright?” “Where am I?” “Not important, with that drug in your system you might not feel if you hurt yo–” “What drug? Leon where the fuck am I?” Attempting to crawl away from him, he stopped you easily, wrapping an arm around you to hoist you up. Any attempt to kick your legs was futile between his strength and whatever was in your system, there was no helping you when he tossed you back onto the bed.

“Calm down Angel, calm down. I’ll explain, just, you need to calm down.” “I don’t need to calm down. I need to know what’s going on!” You tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down gently. He leered over you, hands on your arms with a grip that was firm but not tight or painful. His face read full seriousness as you peered into his eyes – he didn’t speak, the cold mix of his stare and the ensuing silence made you wash over with fear. “I said, calm down.” His words were flat, cold. You couldn’t ever remember hearing him like this. The cold aura that seemed to be emanating from him had you biting your tongue only for a brief moment. “How the hell do you expect me to calm down? Tell me what’s going on right now Leon.” “Always so stubborn.” He said softly, whole body relaxing above you before he let go of his hold. Making his way to the other side of the bed he flopped onto it, pulling you close so you were resting with your head on his chest. He wrapped one arm around you and used the other to gently caress your hair. The switching of emotions nearly gave you whiplash.

“I–” “Shh.” He cooed, continuing to pet you like he was taming a pet. “Shh, don’t speak Angel. I know you have a lot of questions, just relax.”

Your brain wasn’t comprehending anything going unless, especially not his odd demeanor or the pet names he was using in abundance. It’s not like you had never imagined yourself curled up with him like this before – but given the situation it just didn’t feel right. You dared to bring your eyes back up to his, and there they were soft, caring, just like you always remembered them being. Once comforting they were now unsettling. Nothing felt right at this moment; your stomach churned with unease and anxiety. If physically capable you’d have squirmed away, pushed at him, but you were stuck. All you could do was bite with your words. “I’m not going to shush. Not until I have answers, and quit calling me that.” You looked up at him, giving your best icy stare. He stopped running his fingers through your hair. “Alright, alright.” He conceded. “What’s your first question?”

“Where am I?” “You’re home where you belong.”

That wasn’t very helpful and certainly didn’t answer your question. “You know that’s not what I mean. Where is “home?”” It was brief but you caught his eyebrow twitch at your pushing, something you’d only ever seen when he was irritated and trying to hide it.

“Home is with me, the exact location of this house you don’t need to know. Understand, princess?” The cold, flat tone was back again. “Any more questions?” “What did you do to me?” “Nothing, silly.” “It’s not nothing, my arms, my legs –” “It was just a little medicine to help you sleep on the way here. It’ll wear off soon.” “How did –” You actually didn’t want to know the answer to that. “Why?” “Why what?” He raised a brow as he tucked some hair behind your ear, an action that was once sweet – something you loved that he would do whenever you were upset. Right now though every touch of his fingertips stung, his non answers beginning to irritate you beyond belief. “What do you think I mean? Why are you doing this? Why did you bring me here?” “Because this is where you belong. I told you that already.” “Leon, come on. You know damn well that’s not what I meant!” You finally snapped out of frustration. “You know what? You’re fucking crazy – take me home right now!” His grip on you tightened slightly, not as tight as before, but just enough as a warning. “This right here is exactly why you’re here.” He snapped back. “You don’t listen. You don’t think. You have no idea what’s best for you. I’m sorry but I can’t keep letting you go on like that, I have to keep you safe.” “Wha–” “I love you.” He said the words with such firm confidence you were stunned. Despite yourself your cheeks dusted red from hearing the confession, thoughts swirling through your head in hazy clouds of confusion.

“Leon what the hell –” “I love you.” He said again, cupping your cheek with his palm. “That’s why you’re here. Why I have to keep you safe.” You swatted his hand away as best you could, confusion, anger, and shock morphing your features. He didn’t seem to care for your discomfort as he spoke again. “No more questions. Just relax.” He emphasized his point by sitting up and leaning forward to rub at your thigh. You weren’t sure what he was doing,definitely suspicious of his intentions, until he began kneading at your muscles with both hands. “Feel good?” He applied more pressure as he wired his way down, at first it was a strange sensation, pins and needles mixed with numbness, until it faded and all you could feel was the warmth of his hands on the spot he was working. “Use your words sweetheart.” “Don’t patronize me like that.” “You don’t have to be that way.” He sighed, but continued massaging your muscles. “It’ll help get you walking a little better so I can show you around, help you get settled in. I’m sure your attitude will change after a while” He spoke while he worked, pushing and rubbing against the flesh on both legs. “Doubtful.” You couldn’t deny it was pleasurable, but most of all you were keen on getting your movement back. It was clear that he was – crazy, to put it mildly. Either he snapped, or he was never really the Leon you knew, regardless, one thing was true: you needed to get out of here. “That should do it.”

He admired his work before slipping off the bed, and grabbing your hand. “Let me help you up.” Sliding both your legs over the side of the bed was much easier than before, though you were still lacking the ease of coordination you were used to. “You’re going to show me around now?” “That’s right.” Without the ease of proper limb movement you knew there was no making a run for it at this exact second. Considering your situation, you decided to be neutral, allowing him to show you around without much hassle. At best you figured it would be a good way to scout for information, a better understanding of your surroundings. The house itself was basic. An old ranch style home, one story only a few rooms. Each one was sparsely decorated and furnished, similar to the bedroom you had woken up in. No personal items in sight, white walls, nothing cozy about it. It felt eerie, too cold and open.

Leon prattled on with an explanation for everything. He left it blank so you two could make it your ‘own space’, he couldn’t wait to settle in with you and make it a home. You replied to his excitement with automatic answers when he forced them out of you, refusing to even feign appreciation. The wood flooring echoed loudly with each heavy step you placed down, you made note of that. Where he talked about putting up photos, you saw the window next to the wall as a potential escape route. The back door had an odd lock set up, several on the outside and the inside, clearly designed both for keeping you in and anything else out. ‘Don’t try that door.’ You added to your mental notes. The bathroom was the last one shown to you, simple, a white claw tub with a pull-string style toilet, mirror, and sink. Nearly nothing was noteworthy about it until your eyes caught the inside door lock, the push button kind. Sure enough, the outside of the knob lacked a keyhole, only that tiny circular pinhole – the only door in the whole house that locks only from the inside. You of course made note of that, bolding it in your head. “So, what do you think? I know it’s a lot different from what we had in the city, but I’m sure once it’s spruced up a bit you’ll feel better.” “Are you going to let me invite friends over?” You asked, sarcasm dripping from your tongue.

Of course if he noticed, he didn’t care, blowing past your attitude with more of his delusional talk. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. It would be a long while before I would feel comfortable letting anyone step foot in here.” “Sounds lonely.” You replied flatly, rolling your eyes before scanning around some more, trying to see if there was anything else that could help you. “You’ll have me.” He replied, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss. You steeled yourself to whatever emotion it brought out in you, resisting the urge to slap him. “Of course and when you’re halfway across the world for work, I bet I'll have tons of fun staring at the grass.” “We’ll get you a cat.” “Leon, I’m getting really tired of this –” “You’re pushing it.” “I’m pushing it? You take me to some texas chainsaw style house in the middle of nowhere against my will and I’m the one pushing it? You’re lucky you drugged me, otherwise –” “Oh cool it.” He ruffled your hair. “You’re adorable when you’re upset, know that? Like a kitten.”

You saw red, biting your lip, your hand came up to make contact with his face not able to contain the frustration anymore – disappointed when he grabbed your wrist catching it easily. “Exactly what I’m talking about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, letting out a deep sigh. “Look, I know something that will chill you out.” “I don’t want anymore medicine.” “It’s not medicine.”

“I don’t believe that.” “You don’t have to.” He said with a shrug, before turning you and leading you carefully back through the house, stopping at the large set of french doors at the front. To your dismay it held the same, if not more locks than the back door. The large window next to it was a casement type with a crank, the slats looked just big enough for you to slip through if you could manage to get them open; another note added.

You watched as he dug in his pocket for his keychain. The green and black one made out of paracord, you recognized it as the one he always used for his car keys, except now it held a slew of others. Leon made quick work of the lock system, expertly flipping through each colored key. Anticipation burned in your core with every click of a lock turning into place, closer and closer to the smallest taste of freedom.

The air outside was colder than you expected, the breeze that made the grass sway had picked up since your view out the window. It stung slightly against your cheeks, but felt great compared to the stale air of the house. Taking a deep breath in, you closed your eyes just enjoying the smell, the feeling, pretending he didn’t exist for a moment. The urge to run created an uncomfortable uneasiness in your legs.

The view wasn't much different than the one from the bedroom window. An endless sea of grass stopped only by a wall of trees in the far distance, except now the sunset was adding purple and yellow hues to everything. It occurred to you that you had no real idea how long you were out or what time it had been when you woke up. Nothing outside was distinguishable, nothing recognizable. At least until you scanned all the way to the right and noticed where Leon’s jeep was parked – if his vehicle was over there, then likely the path in and out was too.

“I know how much you love the sunset, it’s better here too. Another reason why I picked this place just for you.” He took a few more steps out with you, but held you close to him. More of the property made its way into your vision, not a ton, but enough that when you looked to the side, you could definitely see the dirt path that led out into the thicket of trees. ‘That’s the way I need to go.’ “Sweetheart, are you listening to me?” “How could I not be, you’re right there.” You could see the annoyance on his features again, he didn’t bother to reply to you this time, instead looking off at the sky himself. You weren’t exactly sure what the plan was yet. Even if you hadn’t learned about the details of Leon’s work, it wouldn’t take a genius to know he would be hard to get away from. Anyone with working eyes could see how built he was, but coupled with knowing that he was skilled at likely this exact kind of thing – if you even had a 1% chance of escaping, you needed an advantage. A head start, a distraction, anything.

As the sun dipped lower and lower, the hazy warm colors of the sunset disappeared into the ever growing darkness that began overtaking the landscape. He wasn’t wrong, it was different from the city, no neon lights or dull street lamps for illumination. As pretty as the stars were twinkling above, the rest of the world was dark. Another thing to worry about, if you even managed to get outside long enough to run.

Despite spending the entirety of the sunset in deep thought about your escape plan, nothing came to mind. Settling in on the fact that you would have to remain here at least for the night, you didn’t protest when Leon corralled you back inside. “We should start getting you ready for bed.” “I haven’t even been awake for more than a few hours.” You protested, not wanting to relinquish consciousness yet. “Today’s been stressful, and you’ve been extra fussy. It’s clear you need more rest.” He patted you on the back before toting you back to the bedroom, ignoring your protests. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you turned up your nose and looked away when he began to strip himself out of his day clothes, peeling the fabric off of himself to make way for his pajamas. “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t stain your neck like that, might hurt yourself.” “Whatever.” When you turned to look at him your eyes landed on the fact he was only choosing to wear a thin pair of pants as his ‘pajamas’. You’d seen him less than dressed before, but in this context it was definitely different. While you’d indulged in admiring his physique before, now it was a reminder of just how strong he was. The pants too left little to the imagination, him obviously having opted on going commando. “You don’t seriously plan on sharing a bed, do you?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t we?” “I don’t want to share a bed with you.” “That’s not up for you to decide. Besides, I’ve seen you sleep, you’re beautiful like that – I refuse to give up that view ever again.”

The words made your stomach churn. “Well, I’m not tired.” “That’s alright, you will be once you take your medicine. It’ll help you sleep.” Another protest died on your tongue as he disappeared from the room before returning with a few pills and a glass of water. They were small and pink, nothing you recognized. Accepting them from his hands, you considered if you should take them or if you could get away with only pretending.

The decision was made for you as a crack of thunder outside jolted his attention for a moment, pulling him to the window. In a snap decision, you stuffed them into the pillow case before pretending to put your hand to your mouth the moment he turned to look at you before gulping down the water. “Open for me.” You did as you were told. “Tongue up too.” You moved the muscle up and down, side to side to make sure that he could see nothing was within your mouth. “Stand.” “Oh come on, you told me to take the pills. I did.” “I said, stand.” He repeated, gently pulling you back to your feet.. He looked at where you had been sat, running his hand along the sheet and lifting the pillow before doing one final search on the floor. Pleased with the lack of what he found, he smiled at you. “Good girl. Let’s get some rest.” There was no avoiding the inevitable now as you slipped under the covers against your will. He’d pulled you in close to him, hot breath on your neck, body heat and muscles pressed into your back. His heavy arm laid over you like a blanket made of stone, keeping you in place. There you were stuck, trapped. Plush lips placed a few kisses on your neck as well, stiffening your body like a plank of wood. “Stop that.” You commanded, doing your best to jerk your neck from him. For once, he did as you asked, allowing you to adjust far enough away that you were out of the range of his lips, still stuck under his arm.

It made you sad, angry, every emotion in between. Despite only being aware of your situation for hours, it felt like a lifetime away that things were normal. You and Leon were friends, crashing on his couch while you watched movies – clinging to him at your most vulnerable emotional moments. Still no comfort was found in his touch, especially not in the dark silence of the room. If anything, it was making you feel worse than it had earlier, claustrophobic even. Despite knowing you needed to remain still, pretend to at least sleep, all you wanted to do was fidget, brain recounting the day's events over and over again, landing on that bathroom door. The knob, the only lock in the house that could benefit you.

The unbearable need to get away was gradually becoming all consuming the longer you were left with your thoughts. “Leon?” You called his name gently once his breathing had evened out along with his heartbeat. No response came, just a mild fluctuation in his breath, a twitch of his arm. ‘He must be sleeping.’

While no grand escape plan had come to you, the opportunity to at least get some solitude and to abate the restlessness in your legs kept tugging at your brain. Gently, you lifted his arm off of you, squirming out from under it to scoot to the edge of the bed. “Where …you…going?” His voice was slurred with sleep still, and he made no motion to move. “I have to pee really bad.” You did your best to match that same slurred sleepiness, hoping he was still under the impression you’d taken whatever medication it was he’d given you. “Just be quick.” He rolled over to the other side pulling the blanket with him as if he was settling back down to sleep.

Slowly you creeped around the bed, mimicking the heavy gait you had earlier when first waking up, even once you creaked the bedroom door open you continued allowing your footsteps to be heard, not wanting to make him suspicious of anything.

The bathroom was exactly the relief you had intended. Freedom to stretch and move your limbs, freedom of silence that didn’t feel all encompassing as you lightly drummed your fingers against the porcelain of the sink. Time was limited this evening so once you had enough time to breathe, you flushed the toilet before splashing some water onto your face, resolving yourself to head back to the room.

Turning to make your way back, the little button lock on the bathroom door was pushed out towards you, catching your attention once more. Clicking the button into place, you attempted to twist the knob – sure enough it stuck in place just like you had hoped. ‘No fucking way!’ You cheered mentally.

‘Ok, he forgot one lock… but how does that help me?’ Looking behind you, you took a chance by sliding the shower curtain open as quickly and quietly as possible. There eye to eye you came with a window. It was the same crank open type as the living room, but with only one panel that opened out. It would be a tight fit, but with enough determination you could probably fit. Debating on if this was something you should try tonight, or hold onto the idea for a better occasion. ‘But what better timing would there be before he noticed the lock?’

Taking a chance, you closed the door again making sure the lock was in place and testing the knob. “I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” You chanted to yourself, stepping into the cold tub. The crank on the window was old, and you were sure it would be loud. “Quickly. Gotta do it quickly.” It took all your strength to get it to budge, arm muscle aching, but finally it gave way beginning to turn. A loud screech echoed within the tiny bathroom. Immediately you stopped, listening for movement from the other room.

Nothing. So far so good. You went back to turning it, the window opening slowly with each turn. At the halfway mark you halted, this time the sound of another door creaking made the hair on your back stand straight. The thudding of heavy steps barrelling towards the door had your fight or flight mode going haywire. “Sweetheart.” His voice was low with having just woken. “Come out here.” The sound of his fist against the door made your heart skip a beat and made your stomach churn as if you were going to throw up. “No.” You called back, hurriedly trying to finish getting the damned window open.

His hand met the knob, attempting to turn it when it stuck. He jiggled it a few times, fear settling ice cold in your stomach at his voice. “Open. The. Door.”

It was a command. His fist continued to beat against the door and his other hand fought with the doorknob behind you, the wood creaking and bowing with each blow. It felt like time stood still and sped up all at once. The impending fear of him breaking through the door felt like it was only milliseconds away, while the crank of the window felt like it would take years to get open. “Angel, I’m worried about you. Just open the door.” He called through this time, his voice a soft coo in comparison to the harsh way he was handling the few inches of wood that kept you apart. “No you’re not you freak! Leave me alone!” You shouted, voice wavering as a loud boom was heard behind you, followed by the sound of wood cracking. “Angel, I don’t want to scare you. I just need you to come out right now please. Just come back to bed. It’ll be alright – we both know you won’t make it far even if you get out the window.” So he did know your plan, if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through you, that might have rattled you. But you were determined, with one more push, the window was open enough for you to pull yourself up and through, just in time for one more solid blow to the door behind you.

Plopping to the ground, you had just enough time to see Leon through the window staring down at you before you took off. Legs moving as fast as they could take you, you just ran. No thought for the path you saw earlier, no thought of where, just pure speed.

It was so dark you couldn’t see anything through the tall grass as you ran, feet stinging as you stepped on various rocks and anything else hidden in the dirt between patches. Had your arms not been held out in front of you, a head-on collision with a tree would’ve been imminent as you reached the edge of the property.

Not a track star by any means your stamina was waning as your legs grew sore. Knowing you couldn’t outrun him, you hoped you could at least hide, scrambling into the blanket of trees staying as quiet as you could.

“Sweetheart!” You heard his voice calling you in the distance. “It’s not safe out here.”

You ducked down under the root of a large tree, shivering against the cold and silently praying nothing was under there with you. “Just come back and we can talk. You have no shoes, you’re not in outside clothes, it’s dark. I’ll give you one chance to come back, you’re not going to like it if I have to play chase Angel.”

‘I’m not your Angel, asshole.’ You hunched in on yourself more, trying to make yourself smaller as his voice grew louder, hoping you wouldn’t be noticeable. You didn’t hear him again, or any impending footsteps after several moments. Ambient noises of the forest overtook your ears, crickets chirping a frog in the distance croaking – hyper aware of everything, the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up. You felt like a cat, ready to pounce at any second.

When there was still no sign of Leon, with limbs trembling, you stood, tilting your head to see if you could hear anything. The whistling of the wind picking up was the only difference, the cold air biting at you. Mustering up the courage, you took a single step forward. Then another, and another. Moving from one tree to another, praying to the universe that you made the right choice, that you were heading opposite of whatever direction Leon fucking Kennedy was in. With each progression forward, the fear ebbed away as your confidence slowly renewed. The farther into the woods you managed to get, the darker it was getting. The canopy above began to block out any remnants of the small moonlight that guided any of your previous moves. Feeling vaguely safe, you stopped to take a breath and to assess what to do next – one possibility hunkering down until sunlight came. ‘Who knows how long that could be, and he’ll be scouring these woods all night.’

“You got this. Just think….think…”

And that’s when you felt it from behind, his arms clamped around you, one hand covering your mouth. A muffled “mmph” escaped you before you registered a sweet smell overtaking you. You flailed desperately, feet digging into the mud, nails making crescent shapes in his tight forearms, desperate to get away. Your movements were becoming uncoordinated again, head hazy as the world turned hues of pink. “Got you Sweetheart. It’s alright, it’s alright.” Leon’s voice cooed in your ear again. “I’m not upset, I promise. You don’t have to be scared. We just gotta get you home.” His words warped and began to sound strange as your vision went funny – the few dark shapes you could make out twisted and bowed like looking through a circus mirror. You couldn’t help the giddy and giggling feeling you had, leaning back into his touch. “That’s my girl, come here.”

“N-no.” You protested between the laughter, like a child being tickled.

He lifted you bridal style, kissing your cheek before stealing a quick peck from your lips you neither returned nor rejected, watching for a moment his face was swirling in different shades of skin tones as he stepped out of the thicket of trees back into the field. “See? So much easier to be a good girl, isn’t it?” You flopped your head against his shoulder as he continued the trek back, not answering. Vaguely you heard him mumble something about making sure the windows were locked down, but you were too focused on the cartoon looking building that kept swaying in the breeze like grass, eyes becoming heavier and heavier. “I’m s’tired.” “I know, Angel. I know, get some sleep. Tomorrow will be our real first day home.”

Too close to unconscious to process anything else, your eyes finally slipped closed, the sinking feeling of sleep wrapping itself around you.

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solitus17utopia · 6 months

Text

"I need somebody to remember my name after all that I can do for them is done,"

The human mind seeks for a legacy to be remembered by, to exist for just more than the years their body can last. But, not everything lasts, and neither does anyone last, even if it be at the expulsion of the universe or the end of the world. Even immortality has its limits. But we seek out something to continue living, as fish for water, and want it to greater quantities to live for. But, even if you have nothing, neither do they, they'll be there, to remember and cherish.

pronouns — they/them, you.

genre — comfort? angst? fluff, though, surely.

c.warnings — slight possessiveness, marginal obsession, promises of turning mortality into immortality, somehow, don't ask me.

✧ Blade.

Anyone capable of even glancing at the unrestrained criminal was bound to be looking for a death wish, even if unintentional. He was an immortal that found no jubilation in the act of living, not once, at least, not after the downfall.

Ever since reformed into the acute Blade he is now, his lips only spewed bitter words and sneers. Well, to anyone other than the Stellaron Hunters. But, other than that, he was indifferent to everything and everyone surrounding him, the majority he allowed was Kafka calling him 'Bladie', but no one, or anything else.

Not until they came.

The one who shone so brightly despite the negativity of society surrounding them. Their voice, robbed of any ill intent, trickery or mockery. The skin that was plastered with coloured stickers above bitter irritation. No, Blade didn't know how, but the purity of their actions stood out to him other than anything; how could he not?

Slowly, but for sure, the immortal found himself slipping deeper into a quicksand named love, unable to crawl out. No matter the time, his hate foreboded into the unexpected triviality of love.

And, after what felt like the umpteenth time of his lifetime of Kafka teasing the two, a last string of jealousy set the line for them and Blade.

The chastity of the newly formed relationship was a foreign language to Blade, but surely his calloused hands would melt into yours in no time.

Your simplicity stood out, and so did your lack of experience in opposing violent resolutions. No matter your mentality or assets, you were just a common being, a mortal that might even pass away to the afterlife like an old friend of his.

He's yours, even if he might not admit it out of the chill of his heart. But, he'll make sure he is, with you coexisting as his. He'll make sure, nothing can take you away, not this time, even if it means resorting to other methods.

You'll stay, even if for a lifetime, won't you?

✧ Jing Yuan.

Ah yes, the Arbitior General of the Cloud knights, one that instilled fear in enemies' souls in battles by the draw of his kept-away smithed sword. A clever chess player, yet a lazy one who takes part in keeping himself busy by resting his weary eyelids in the Seat of the Divine Foresight. Or, by teasing a young teenager at chess, plopping off frivolous, harmful tricks on the youngest lieutenant.

But, do not let the playful and often bemused demeanour fool you. Guilt lies deep in the immortal's heart, gnawing at his mind slowly from the parting of the last four heroes that abandoned each other after Bai-Heng's sacrifice, each turning cold, reserved and to their own paths after. Only he remained unharmed, he thinks.

The General has experience of being abandoned by his friends and passing acquaintances, human or animal.

But, he didn't know how quickly he got attached to you, one not even a part of something like the Astral Express, but a typical resident of the Xiaozhou Luofu.

Ah, but how attached he was to the way you at first glance pointed out to him, without much fear for the consequences of speaking without overcautioning veneration of words, the flinch strangled in his hair. How, you asked so politely if you could call him by his name, instead of his title, just because you thought he was human, mortal or immortal.

Napping away on leisure time is replaced with spending a minuscule of time with you. Buoyant, trivial, you. No matter the occasion, day, or hour, he'll be at your beck and call, even more than you, or a certain pink-haired lady, might wish, clinging onto you like a needy cat deprived of affection for a long time. How could you say no?

As for your mortality, he'll find a way to keep you under death's radar. Even if that betrays crucial principles.

#⧼ ✣ ⧽ TO THE MANAGEMENT DEPARTMENT #⧼ ✣ ⧽ FOREIGN AFFIRMATION RECOGNITION.#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #blade x reader #yingxing x reader #jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #hsr fanfics #hsr scenarios #jing yuan scenarios #blade scenarios #blade x jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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shinjisdone · 21 days

Text

Me: I should probably take a break from writing

Brainrot:

Platonic! Lucifer with Angel!Reader (who seems evil but inadvertantly becomes his friend and therapist and also he is weird)

This man got problems.

He knows it and anyone who spends a good minute with him knows it, too.

He's a bit reserved while being loud with his thoughts but quiet with his presence. For being the king of Hell, he doesn't have much of a presence nor does he want to.

But, as things turn, he reunites with his daughter Charlie and is introduced to her big project, the Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer doesn't have much hope...he was met with betrayal and disappointment early on and believes that Charlie will face the same fate soon, unfortunately.

So, he felt prepared for the inevitable downfall but felt his entire system shock and stop when he spottend an Angel in the lobby.

"AH! Hah! Aaahghgah-! What is that?!" He spluttered as he pointed at that thing with his cane. Panic all over his pale face.

The heavenly being only rose a brow as Charlie was quick to come between you two and explain the angelic visitor.

You gave a smirk and feigned to bow at the king, offering your business card.

"A Judge from Heaven. I'll be here to oversee the progress of your daughter and her big project to rehabilitize sinners, the Hazbin Hotel."

Nope! No, no, no-ho-ho! No, no! Nope!

You're eerie and ever-knowing grin made everything so much worse.

You stand there in the lobby, the entrance, the bar, the rooms - observing each little thing that goes wrong. All menacingly!

Once again you underline that you came here to observe the progress and potential of the hotel and if it's existence is even allowed. If such a thing such as rehabilitizing sinners to send them to Heaven - your turf - is even allowed.

You can just put a stop to it whenever you like.

It all sounds awry to Lucifer. Angels are judgemental, uptight and close-minded. Too many rules that this hotel could neeeveeerr uphold. No way this is going to work out. Being in your mere presence freaks him out!

He is quick to tell Charlie all of this, who goes with your proposal anyway (what other choice does she have) and sees it much more optimistic than her father. This is a chance for Heaven to see up close what all she can do! What could be a possible peaceful way of getting rid of their overpopulation problem!

Her father on the other hand has his doubts. He's constantly feeling anxious with an angel around and is just afraid that Charlie will end up being dissapointed or worse. He makes it his mission to observe the Observer in turn just to ease his mind!

Charlie and her attempts are laughable at best but you simply stand there and watch with high awareness but zero schadenfreude at her failures. You simply point out the mistakes while sugarcoating nothing. Perhaps a tad bit of sarcasm can be found in your tone but you never seem to mean harm.

Charlie, being so optimistic, keeps her head high and takes your advice, no matter how cruel it might be. She wants to impress you and Heaven!

How the others react, depends a bit on you.

Both Vaggie and Angel Dust are protective of Charlie, with the latter mocking you with the fact of how sinful he acts. Alastor is curious (the thought of owning an angel's soul unrealistic but tempting!). How Niffty and Husker feel depends on you as well.

They are sure to take a step back though when you hint at knowing a lot about them. More than anyone else should know. Vaggie panics when you ask the subordinate to step aside and Angel Dust suddenly feels less comfortable being himself around you. Alastor is pissed at you mocking him, seemingly knowing of his intentions, past, death, and the leash around his neck.

All that fuels Lucifer's fears. See! See?! This is a bad idea, a bad- everything!

No, no! Lucifer is sure to WATCH YOU and don't you DARE do something to ruin Charlie's dream! Or herself!

He is sure he will kill you.

Yet it never comes to it.

You're not active and barely react to things. If something offenses you, you do not fight back but simply walk away. When someone asks you what grrrreat advice you angel can give, you candidly do so. You might even give a bit of divine intervention here and there to help but the big task is something the asker has to do themselves.

There you are, walking along the hallway, with your all-knowing, all-righteous, close-minded as fuck self as if - as if you're perfect!

Well, you're not!

Angels suck! He knows, he is one!

"There's something wrong, Quakie," He whisper-growled while aggressively petting the small toy duck's head, "They're wary and foul, I tell ya! Absolutely the worst!" The small alarm he had built into the hallway rung and like a maniac Lucifer rushed to his peephole to see you having stepped on one of his creations. The duck quaked pathetically as you raised your foot.

A crime against all art!

He switched between growling like a dog and heaving deeply and in panic.

Without hesitation, you picked up the duck and dusted it off. A bit of angelic power here and there and the little fellow was as good as rain.

Wait - Wh-ua-whaufu - what???

Lucifer spluttered as he squinted his eyes at the sight, only to jolt and squeak like a schoolgirl when you appeared behind him.

"This is what you got banished for?" You offered the back-flipping toy back with an open palm. It spat a bit of fire. Lucifer first panicked, audibly, before chuckling nervously. He avoided your eyes at all costs. "Oh, golly, how - how did this come here?" Quickly he snapped it away, still laughing. "The little fellas are gonna get squashed here, left littered as your spies, you know. If not by Alastor, then surely by some new guests. They're here to become better people and don't start off as one."

Again, the king only stuttered nonsense. You rolled your eyes.

"You don't have to look out for me. I'm not an Exorcist nor do I plan to kill anyone here. I am here to judge the potential of Charlotte Morningstar's project. As the princess of Hell, she's got power and it is my job to oversee if her plan can harmonize with that of Heaven and can be done long-term. Like I've already told you."

Still, he eyed you with suspicion. "Heaven is not agreeable. I don't know why you're waisting your time here." With a sigh, you slumped your shoulders. "What do you think will happen once Heaven gets wind of Charlie trying to shoot up one of her sinners into their turf and try to turn them into a winner? You think they'll accept it all?"

"Of course not. They don't listen, don't give you a chance, it's-!" With a small grin you gesture to him. "Exactly. I'm the first phase to impress per say. I can't allow anything unaccaptable to reach the gates - thats why me being here is not a waste of time." For once, you try to be friendly. "I understand you're worried about an angel being so near your daughter-"

"I- I'm NOT! F-For that you'd have to be a threat, angel, and I'm not scared of you! No! No,no,nonononono not at all! Th-this, this s' just- nghn..." Lucifer bites his finger, eyes darting wildly as his threats became unintelligable nonsense. He jumped when he felt your gentle hand on his shoulder.

"-but I can assure you that I will go out of my way itself to keep Charlie safe. From all demons and angels alike. Including Alastor."

Like shot from lightning, Lucifer felt shaken to his core. His face grew paler and he was quick to get out of his frozen state and escape to the corner of the room like a startled cat.

He stared at you as if you had spoken the most unbelievable nonsense. "Wh-what, what is that, what does that mean." You chuckle at his dumbfounded face. "I am a Judge but I can also serve as an Guardian Angel for Charlie or this hotel. No Charlie means no hotel to judge - and, well, it would bring hell to, hm, Hell."

Lucifer brings a hand to the spot you touched. It was oddly warm. "You'd do that...? Just to see if this hotel-schmotel would work? For...Charlie?"

You nodded. "So there's no need of you to be afraid of me. If you ever want to know my intentions, you can talk to me. I'm rather curious about you, too."

It felt like you offering food to an stray cat which slowly comes out of its cave. Lucifer approaches you with the same curiousity. "W-w-wait, you are? Me? Me, seriously?! Oh my gosh, really?!" He grinned and applauded briefly, jumping in his spot - before having to wipe it all away and clear his throat. He had to play the cool king. "That's, well, uhm, mmmmmmh - great. You, uh, do that. I can - I WILL talk to you and YOU WILL answer me! Right. So, that's...cool."

Theres an awkward quiet and he cleared his throat.

"...So, you wanna talk about...the hotel? And, and Charlie?"

Your willingness to openly talk about the hotel and your thoughts on his daughter puts Lucifer in an odd position.

It feels...freeing to talk about stuff. Normally. In a normal way.

He's always ready to listen about things about Charlie. Since they haven't spoken in a while, face to face and open with their feelings, hearing what you've experienced with her leaves him wanting to know more but also opens his eyes when it comes to his own daughter.

The weirdest thing however, is seeing an Angel being so open to Hell itself. You want nothing to do with it, no, no - but you listen and you watch. There's consideration in your words.

You are an Angel - so is he, or was, well...he's fallen now, so he isn't quite sure what he is.

But you, you must be different from him! You are! You represent all of Heaven for this hotel, all the strict rules, all the rejection, everything a dreamer like him and his daughter are not. So how can you even still be here and listen to it all when Heaven doesn't?

The moment for him to really approach you and not the other way around is when you keep your word and help Charlie.

It could be anything but the key moment would be when you actually become active when aiding her. Using your powers to give her a second chance.

A chance.

Red eyes glance all over the place as he shielded the object in his hands. Lucifer needed a moment, a very long and big one yet you still patiently waited for him to talk.

With a clear of his throat, he spoke. "I, uhm, uh...thank you for...helping my daughter." He began lowly and looked away. "...You...You didn't have to do that, you know that, right? No being from Heaven would have ever thought of or given the permission to help someone from Hell."

It makes him ponder. No angel would have done so. But you did simply for...her? The hotel? Whatever the reason might be, you still did it.

You rose a brow and seemed to understand where he came from. "I didn't. Like I said, no Charlie means no hotel and your realm would also be affected if its princess was gone."

Hesitating again, Lucifer held out his hands, presenting a small duck. "And...as thanks, this is for you. A token from the king of Hell...if it means anything..."

Surprised, you took the duck and couldnt help but burst in a fit of chuckles. Lucifer startled like a cat before feeling a soft warmth in his chest.

"I'll gladly take a king's gift," You snort as you pet the toy, "unless it'll get me banished as well."

Cue awkward laughter from Lucifer. (Are you laughing with him? Laughing at him? WHICH IS IT)

"I've never gotten a gift such as this. But seriously, it's quite cute." "Wh-uawhatwhatwhat, really?" Cute? Cute? And heavenly being calling his projects cute? No one's done that before!

Except Lilith...

"I, uh, can make you one that backflips! Or breakdances!" He snapped the duck out of your palm to make you a better one, "Or spit fire! Or is that still looked down upon in Heaven?"

He growled the last part which you just laughed at.

"I'd rather you not make that. I'm already comitting a crime in their eyes."

Wait what

It turns out you being here watching and helping Charlie was never Heaven's intentions but your own. You want to find a more peaceful solution to get rid of the overpopulation than what the Exorcists do.

It genuinely impresses Lucifer. You are what angels are supposed to be. Not others like Adam. You promise to help Charlie out again just once if your intervention is needed.

"I'll gladly take any backflipping, breakdancing ducks. And if you need my help again, just call my name. I'll be here before you know it, friend."

And with that you were gone until you deemed to be needed again.

A week passes and your phone rings. Confused, you take the call.

"Heeeeey, bitch!"

You spit out your drink and quickly excuse yourself from the other angels. You hear stuttering from the other side.

"Lucifer? What are you calling me for?"

"AhahHAh, hey, eh, you said to call you when I need, uh, uhm, your help..."

"I meant calling my name and I shall appear before you. How'd you get my phone number?"

You're met with awkward laughter.

Your promise to Lucifer might have been a mistake.

It seems your consideration, good deeds, care for his daughter, appreciating his art and calling him 'friend' made him like you quicker and easier than you thought.

Having a friend sounds nice...and, and you're like him! Maybe! Possibly! Anyway, he made you a new duckie! D-do you like it?

You cannot tell but he's chewing on his nails and jumping from one foot after another as you talk. He's just...curious how you are! And how you would like your duckie! With roaring, sqautting, squeaking, flying, dying, swimming, quaking???

It's not like he's LONELY and starving for attention and understanding! Haha, no! He's been fiiiiine thousand years having no one but himself to talk to! Heh, why-why'dchu think he's NOT okay???

Just indulging him in small talk is enough for him for a week ngl. He grows more and more curious about you and maybe secretly hopes that you will give him the same attention and understanding words as you did Charlie! And him for that few minutes a week ago!

It's just...it's nice to have someone from a place not filled with awful people that used to be home and not speak to someone who speaks to him as if he is a king and wants something from him. He has to seek you out rather!

You say you do not mind the calls but have to be careful. You might get punished when people find out you're talking to the fallen angel Lucifer. He promises it'll be no big deal-io!

Though one day you catch him talking in a solemn tone. Asking what was wrong, he admits he's got a Problem regarding Charlie and their relationship. With a big sigh and contemplating if it's REALLY a good idea to ask further, you tell him that you'll listen if he wants to talk.

And boy does he want to talk.

In the beginning Lucifer hesitates but will be comfortable real quick talking about his problems - in an weird, self-deprecating manner.

You point out that things don't have to be like that and maybe give himself a push and be kinder to himself as well.

"Hahahaha!!!" Lucifer catches his breath, "You're so funny, bestie!!!"

However, after some time he thinks about your words and takes it to heart. If he sees any progress with your advice, he grins like a Cheshire Cat. Spinning around and giggling goofily, he thanks you a thousand times for your help. "Oh, golly, thanks a ton! You're, uh, cool! Didn't expect to have a decent conversation with someone from Heaven again, y'know what I mean, hehehe..." You cringe over the phone, thank goodness he can't see it. "No prob, bob...just keep doing your best!"

Oh my gosh, my gosh, my gosh, did you just call him 'bob'?! That's like a nickname! *deep inhale* You must...not hate him! He hopes!

"A-and as thanks I made that duck for you! You can...come pick it up! Yeah! Here, in my, uh, heh, castle and stuff...if you still want it."

"Oh, uhm," Lucifer hears you pondering and is biting his finger anxiously, "...sure. One secret visit will not kill me."

AAAAAAAAAAA

Djdjeidnsk

Holy shit, he's going to have a guest over! He's gonna have tea, and, and talk with you! Omigosh is he making a friend?????

As you can imagine, the king of Hell itself is ecstatic at your visit.

He grows hyperactive and talks your ear off with all kinds of projects, feelings and thoughts that come to his head. He is so over the moon having you over that he forgets to give you his creation up until the end of your visit.

So happy and eager to show you anything you have the slightest of interest in. He can explain it to you! He's basically an expert, heh, he created it. Made in Hell (tm).

Oh, what do you want? Hm? He's your host (and technically the king but he keeps forgetting that) and powerful to boot, so he can make you anything you want! Just say it, friendo!

If you show any kind of positive remarks, Lucifer gets a huge boost of confidence and joy. Someone actually likes his stuff and they are from Heaven! Maybe there's a chance to be open-minded after all!

Though, surely but slowly, Lucifer will kind of...bombard you with his issues. There's a lot and I mean a LOT, that you curiously enough can understand from where they came from at least. You both are from Heaven, after all.

It kinda becomes a therapy session? You first hoped it wouldn't but, well, here you are with tea in your hand and Lucifer lying on his couch and talking non-stop.

Once he feels really comfortable he also plops his head on your lap and just starts talking.

You...try your best to share the pain and give advice and as cringey as it all is, you can tell that these talks mean a lot to Lucifer and he also takes them to heart.

One day, he might shyly ask if you two are friends.

You pat his hat (so basically his head too! Right?!) and smile: "Yes, Lucifer. We are friends."

With these words, you've doomed yourself.

Brought a catastrophe. Caused a calamity. Cursed. Bewitched. Alakazamed. A pact for life.

This man lost a lot. Now he finally managed to get his daughter back and he's definitely sure to do anything to not lose you. He's done being passive. If Heaven found out about your friendship, they are sure to punish you.

He's ready to use all his powers to keep you safe. Know though that Charlie is his priority.

He'll do his best to keep you both safe, even if you are powerful enough to look out for yourself (and Charlie, as you promised). He just can't risk it.

After this, he is totally on board with the whole friends thing. Proudly calls you it around people he trusts, calls you friendo, buddy, pal, chum, and all other kinds of things. Will definitely give you a nickname based on your name but would turn it absolutely goofy.

If people (Alastor) point out his ridicilous clinginess and eagerness about his new friend, he will either laugh it off or comedically defend you.

Lucifer will be very eager to show affection in theory but is incredibly hesitant to do so. What if he's being weird, what if you don't like being touched??? WHAT IF HE RUINS EVERYTHING OH GOD NO

However, if you show even a bit of affection, he will return it on the same level. Things just escalate when the affection is physical, such as pats on the back or hugs. He'll stifle his giggle, his joy, before slapping you on the back or squeezing you so hard your spine breaks. The king is very starved of touch and affection and tends to give everything back tenfold. He'll also initiate it much more frequently and with very, very, very, very, VERY and LOTSA, LOTSA delight. It does tend to get awkward afterwards though.

Gifts you a LOT OF THINGS. ALL CARNIVAL OR CIRCUS RELATED. YOU NEVER SAID YOU LIKED THE CIRCUS BUT HE DOES IT ANYWAY???

They are all quaint and cute little things with little to no use for anything. But it's the thought that counts and that makes you smile.

It's Lucifer's way of not only impressing you but also letting you know he appreciates you, aside from physical affection.

Since he cannot go back to Heaven, he invites you often down in his 'part of town, hey, hey, hey!' (in his words) and no matter what you do, you often find yourself ending up playing the therapist. It's...endearing how he trusts you but also...annoying.

One day you say something particurlarly striking, something that eases his heart like a balm. Hot tea with the sweetest honey. With a big sob, he throws himself at you, clinging on you like a damsel in distress as he just bawls. You try to calm him down - then PUSH him off BUT HE WONT LET YOU.

"Y-You," He wiped his nose (as if he had one) and barely could recognize you through his squinted, watery eyes, "You're the bestest friend I've ever had. I dunno if anyone back up there even was my friend when they just easily pushed me away...you are what angels are supposed to be."

You crack a sad smile and embrace him back. "There, there. Maybe one day everyone down here and up there will be the same?"

He hoped so. Maybe there is hope for Charlie and her dreams.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel headcanon #reader insert #hazbin hotel reader insert #platonic #hazbin hotel platonic #lucifer morningstar x reader #PLATONIC PLATONIC #UR HIS FRIEND #and therapist (not planned)

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