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#[starts screeching and clawing like an animal]
robinsteves · 2 years
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i saw ur tags!! who d'ya think would be leah's favorite st character? i think she'd love nancy
ooooooooooh anon this is you literally asking me to excessively dump so I’ll try my best to be concise. but as I’m thinking about what I’ll write, I realize that is a complete lie. sorry but you asked <3
I agree that she’d like nancy— they’re both motivated by the same thing, truth, so she would make leah feel very #seen (and oh my god would she need that more than ever after the island). from being the quieter, simple girl with really only one friend, to becoming the forces of nature they both easily fall into and arguably always were. the respective narratives paint their efforts similarly, too (more specifically, leah’s season 2 arc)— without their relentlessness, the group they oftentimes guide, or at least try to guide in leah’s case, wouldn’t be as quick in achieving success. they do have many differences though; for instance, I’d say nancy’s demeanor is closer to someone like dot. a less emotion-forward, more “this is what we need to do and this is how we do it” approach, and leah falls short on that. the natural leadership both nancy and dot exude is what makes the other characters follow suit without pushback, unlike the hesitation the girls had with leah. which brings me to my next point: the fun thing about leah is her layered complexity. I’m someone who connects patterns in characters I adore, fully unintentionally, yet leah is all-consuming when my brain tries to do so! she commands my full attention, and I loooooove it. so despite how much nancy I see in her, I also find fragments of max, mike, robin, and probably the most obvious choice, joyce. honestly? if I thought hard enough, I could connect her to literally anyone on that show. next thing you know I’ll be posting “leah rilke and heather holloway are sooo tethered” lmao
one more thing to add though: leah would probably compartmentalize who she relates to vs who she likes. I could even see her being the type who sometimes hates the characters she shares traits and experiences with. soooooo, despite my unnecessary think-piece, she’d probably say her favorite is, like, murray, or some shit. just to be different… and because she’d think hes cool
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brainrotdotorg · 1 year
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Partners In Crime by Finneas but imagine Piss and FTW - HM anon
imagining it. getting invested in it. adding it to my piss and fuck playlist
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months
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Dark!Naga!Gojo Satoru x reader x Dark!Naga!Geto Suguru
Top of the Food Chain
I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc
Part two
(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 
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Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 
He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 
He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 
Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 
It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 
You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 
Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 
 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 
It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 
Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 
Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 
Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 
Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 
In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 
At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 
"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.
He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.
"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."
Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.
"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.
Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.
"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.
You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.
You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 
You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 
Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 
"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 
For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 
It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.
"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 
"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 
Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 
They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 
Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 
You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 
"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 
His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 
"Mine," you repeat. 
He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 
A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 
"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 
You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 
Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 
He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 
"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 
You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.
"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 
You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.
If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?
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panzil · 6 months
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I just kinda realized all of team bolas are animals/mob hybrids of some sort.. (at least the ones that log on lmao)
But like... It just makes me think that they're like being consumed by their animalistic instincts and it just makes me love even more how fucking feral they are hehe... And just their animalistic features just become more prominent
Like imagine Foolish's nose becoming so much more sensitive to blood. His teeth become sharper.
Cellbit and Carre just act even more like feral cats. There is fur that is starting to grow on their chests and backs.
Phill and Jaiden's battle cries are just their various bird screeches. Their feathers are also growing in more places as well
Charlie is already a gooey, gunky, slimey guy. But I like to think because of the radiation and toxic fog his slime had become a little more acidic and bubbles a lot more.
Baghs lets the claws on her feet grow, and she is already a humanoid duck so idk what else I could add to her but she can put the fear of god in anyone by simply charging like a goddamn duck about to beat someone's ass.
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httpsobi · 2 months
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YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"
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WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).
A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!
REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"
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KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.
"Jump!"
"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"
"Just-"
Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.
"-do it!"
Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.
The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.
He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-
does he really prefer concrete over nails?
He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.
Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.
Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.
Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.
The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.
"Dude, we did that!"
"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"
"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"
Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted. 
Not around Kaldur anyway.
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ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.
"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.
They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.
Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.
Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."
The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-
The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.
There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.
"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.
Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.
"Me neither."
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MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.
Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.
She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her. 
Miss Martian, watch out!
Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.
Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.
Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.
What's more surprising?
"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.
"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.
"Duh, who else?"
"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.
"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.
"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "
Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.
"That's not- that's impossible?"
"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."
"I don't believe you."
"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"
Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.
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all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.
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funnywormz · 10 days
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my primary hope for chimera falin getting animated is that they make her beautiful and adorable but ALSO genuinely terrifying and unsettling as well. like the scene where she comes down from the rooftop and lands with uncanny grace with a beautiful calm smile even though she's literally crushing maizuru in her claws. and the scene where she rips her shirt off and starts screeching like a banshee and it makes it clear that the dragon part of her is in there and it's freaking MAD. idk i just rlly hope that they put a lot of attention and care into how they animate her lol it means a lot to me
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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year
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Can’t Lose Family / Joel Miller Imagine
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Request: Joel request- him helping Reader get her medications and she repays him with a kiss even though they aren't together?
This turned into a much cuter found family fic than I meant it too lmao but also sorry not sorry  @miraclesabound!!
Warning: strong language, fighting infected, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of what happens with Sam and Henry, mentions of blood, and mentions of Sarah!
This one’s pushing 4,000 words lads which has to be my longest one shot - I spent all day writing this, so if you enjoyed please support me by commenting and reblogging!
(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @manny-jacinto.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
If you found one more goddamn empty first aid kit, you were going to tear a clicker’s head clean off its stupid mushroom neck.
It hadn’t been an easy journey even getting to this point. Despite Ellie’s numerous protests, snide looks, and even grabs at your jacket with a ‘questioning your sanity’ kind of look, you and Joel had both agreed that a supermall was the best next place to look for the specific kind of medication you needed. 
‘It’s the only place left in this state we haven’t already scoured’, he had muttered from in front of you, pulling up Callus’ reigns and bringing the horse to a sudden halt. The building seemed to loom up from the corner of your eyes like a shooting spore; beams of light seemed to light up its cracks, spraying dust upwards through the shattered windows and clawed bricks until they flew out and danced across the sky. It whistled with every blow of wind, grumbled and heaved with the weight of its walls, howled with the furious screeches of the horde of infected that vacated the forgotten premises.
From where she was sandwiched between the two of you, Ellie managed to squeeze her head out past Joel’s shoulder and scoff. Your grip on her shoulders tightened as she tried to turn her head back to throw you an averse scowl. ‘If you guys go in there and make it back in one piece’, her words are jolted by her nose face planting into the back of Joel’s jacket, Callus rearing up his front legs and whinnying at the piercing cry of what sounded to be a recently turned runner convulsing about in horrendous pain. You straightened her back up on the saddle, and she let you wrap your arms around the top of her stomach to keep her balanced. ‘I swear, I’ll eat my backpack.’
Joel just looked past his shoulder to give her a bemused look.
‘Still would be better than having to hear another one of them lines from your joke book.’ Ellie slapped him on the shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was looking down at the sprouting shoots breaking through the strewn concrete on the road to hide her growing smile. ‘Shut up old man. You can never escape Will Livingstone.’ 
You tapped Ellie’s shoulder, and when she turned to see the mischievous glint in your eye, she nodded with a grin. ‘Hey Joel’, you started, waiting for his grunt reply. ‘Do you know the last place I went before the outbreak was too a zoo?’
‘Is that so’, he sighs, not even bothering to turn his head with the foresight to realise where this was going. Hearing Ellie snicker into her hand, her other clutching into his shoulder with anticipation also brought some clarity.  ‘Yeah, the only animal there was a dog. It was a Shizu. Get it? Get it, a Shit-zo-’. Joel just gave a groan that erupted from the pit of his stomach, pretending not to laugh as Ellie erupted into giggles, throwing her head back against your chin.
Joel gazed forward, looking out past the large stretch of empty highway and over the impending treeline speckled in the distance towards the swirl of dull pink and sweet lavender that had begun to transfigure the sky. ‘Yeah, see, this is the problem’, he grunted, ‘maybe being a runner wouldn’t be so bad.’ He couldn’t hide the fact that he was beginning to grin too. 
Ellie snorted, and waved her hand out towards the upcoming building. ‘Well if you go in there, I think your wish will come true.’ Her words brought a fresh wave of silence over the three of you; the kind of forlorn, contemplative stillness that hadn’t shrouded itself over your little makeshift family since you all lost Sam and Henry-. You shuddered, not wanting to go back there anymore. It had been hard enough burying them, let alone trying to deal with the solitude of Ellie’s guilt and the barricading walls Joel had thrown back up at even the mention of the too small grave. It had been hard, the last few weeks, and you didn’t want the people you loved most in this derelict world to fall back into a hopelessness you had fought so hard to drag them out of. 
You didn’t miss the way Joel had glanced back down at his watch though, his face hardening as he steered Callus on.
‘It will be alright, Ellie’, you patted her shoulder and winced as the sound of more infected began to ring out through the dusk and pierce your ears. Ellie shook: not with fear of them, but with terror at the thought that it could take just one wrong move, one wrong moment in this life for her to be left alone again. To be left behind. To lose everyone she loved, yet again. 
But she was brave, and strong, and ready to fight for every scrap she had in spite of the world’s indifference. ‘I know,’ was all she whispered as the three of you came to a stop in front of the mall’s perimeter. The resignation didn’t last too long, though; as soon as Joel had given you his hand to help you down onto the curb, Ellie had started up again at the groans of the building’s floors constricting with the cold.
As Joel had given you a boost up past the half-blown brick wall leaking frost out from the west side of the building, Ellie had thrown her hands up in disgust. ‘Fine!’, she grabbed Callus’ reigns and led him over to a bent piece of iron fence at the edge of the perimeter. ‘If either of you fuckers decide to become infected, I’m gonna kick your shins!’ Even with the crossed arms and huff that followed, when you turned your head to look back at her, she had given you a silent, pleading nod warning you to both come back in one piece. With a final reassuring smile in her direction, you had left the girl stroking Callus’ back, and leant down to heave Joel over into the grave darkness.
The first thing you heard was the sound of sneakers pounding through the walls, the huffing and sliding of about ten bodies coming running towards you. Drawing out your knife from your back pocket, you readied yourself for the oncoming onslaught, but it never arrived. Instead, you were blinded by the sudden flash of gunfire as Joel stepped in front of you, using himself to shield himself from the infected unhinging their mouths and running into the gunfire. Only when he was sure the last one had stopped twitching on the ground did he lower his gun and turn to look at you, raging frenzy clear in his eyes. 
Yet he was so gentle. So, so gentle with you. He clicked on his torch and clipped it onto the lapel of Frank’s old plaid shirt, stained once again with the scent of blood. He reached out a hand towards you, chest heaving as he turned his back to the litter of bodies now staining the linoleum floor. 
‘Are you- are you alright?’ He didn’t know exactly what to do, bless him. So unsure as to how, or if he should show affection anymore. His face fell stern as he looked you up and down, yet his fingers itched against his thighs and clawed at his jeans, as if he were desperate to touch you and make sure himself. You reached out to him with one arm, and he tenderly took your wrist within his fingers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to hold your hand yet, to allow himself that sort of vulnerability, to ever give in to that sort of familiarity with another person again, but it was a step in the right direction.
‘Are you okay?’ The question was more desperate now, more sober, and the most genuine reflection of his pounding heart as he flipped your hand over and used his pointer finger to check your pulse. Sometimes, when the three of you got into tough scraps, it would be the only thing that could bring him back from that fear induced rage. You pretended not to feel his thumb shake against your wrist bone, instead nodding and dragging your fingers down to squeeze his own. ‘Let’s keep going. Ellie will be freaking out by now.’
‘Yes, I am! What the fuck was that!’, you heard echoing in from outside, the alarm in Ellie’s voice filling the vacuous hallway. 
Joel managed to huff out a laugh, before shouldering his gun back round his side and nodding at you. He swallowed thickly, but even as you brushed past him to head further towards the shops, you could see how desperately he was scrunching his lips to try and push away the worry that flickered in his eyes.
And now? After all that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
You kick the empty case clear half way across the store, grunting in victory as you hear it smash against the legs of a frayed mannequin and toss it down onto the floor. An ash cloud of dust sprays up at the movement, making Joel cross his arm in front of his mouth and hack a cough as he’s sprayed in white.
‘We still haven’t tried the door behind the counter.’
‘Joel, we’ve tried every damn door in the country. Plus, it’s sealed shut, and I don’t see you packing any shivs to open it.’ You sigh and squat down to the ground, holding your head in your hands for a second. You only open them once you realise the thudding sound you hear is Joel moving over towards the back wall of the pharmacy, straight towards where a huge mass of spasming, bloated fungi seems to be pulsating on the wall.
‘Are you out of your damn mind?’, you seethe, as Joel reaches into his backpack to strap his gas mask on. 
‘On the contrary, I seem to be the only one in this room with any sense.’ Although his words seem to bite, you can hear the mocking tone drip through the crinkled words as they rasp out past the ventilator. Joel joins you in squatting down to the floor, although his movement is done a lot less gracefully and with a lot more complaining about sore joints. He moves the light away from where its strewn over the floorboards to land straight in the middle of the heaving mess, and the sight nearly makes you gag in shock.
‘Ugh, Jesus’, Joel mutters, his face contorting in disgust as he clenches his fist open and closed in preparation. The figure clenched into the wall in front of him was barely recognisable: it’s drooping face was now sprouting from behinds its eyelids, mouth open as if in a never-ending frozen scream, its lab coat caked in dried old blood that seemed to suggest he wasn’t the only one to die in this dank room. ‘Well, here goes nothing.’ Tentatively inching his hand forward, Joel waits for the poor bastard to come tearing off the wall and clamp its three teeth left around his fingers. Thankfully, both for his sake and your heart, which had decided to start pounding through your ears, Joel is successful in inching the infected’s hand out of the way. He reaches into the breast pocket, sighing in relief and turning towards round to your expectant face. 
Perched between his thumb and pointer finger is the rusted tip of a key.
‘Bingo’, he whistles as he stands up, stretching out his back and clicking his spine back into place. You shake your head as he heads off, following him round the counter edge and butting him out of the way once he reaches the back door. Shaking the handle one more time for good measure, you nab the key out of his hand and ignore the cry of indignation he gives you.
‘It’s my stuff we need, so I go first. Those are the rules.’
You slot the key into the lock and give it a firm twist. 
‘Absolutely not.’ You nearly jump when you feel Joel’s hand firmly clamp down on top of your own, effectively trapping you against the doorknob. You glare over at him, but feel the bitter remark you were about to whip out about how ‘he always puts himself in danger before me or Ellie’ dies on the tip of your tongue when you see how scared he looks. 
‘I go first.’ You tut. The grip on your hand grows firmer. His breath hitches as he bends and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close now, you can feel the rapid air escape his nose and brush over the side of your cheek. For a moment, neither of you are able to move; you’re both caught in some invisible entanglement, some building consequence the two of you have never been brave enough to breach before, some kind of tender understanding. You nod your head, realising now just how earnestly the two of you had been dancing around it: how the whole time you had known each other, one was always preparing to die for the other.
‘Please...I go first.’ His gaze drops to your lips, and then to your nose, and then finally settles, for the first time in a while, firmly on your eyes. Unwavering. Resolute. He lurches forward on the balls of his feet, and for a second you think he’s either about to headbutt you or kiss you. Instead, he gently uses his side to butt you out of the way, before turning his efforts to shouldering the door open in three abrupt pushes.
He lurches in, the door giving way before he expected it and taking his feet out from under him. He rolls to the floor, grunting with the effort as he nearly side rolls straight into the side of an empty rack of shelves. With the light in the musty room as bright as a grave, you’re left trying to figure out where Joel has gone by the sound of an empty pill bottle rolling across the room.
‘Joel? Joel! Where the fuck are you?’, you whisper, reaching your arms out and crouching down to try and find him in the darkness. ‘Shit, is that you? Are you alright?’ You grip onto something soft and squishy, Joel’s leg? It seems clad in denim, although slightly torn, as if he had skinned his whole knee slamming against the floor.
You realised your mistake only a second too late. Instead of the welcome, gravelly honey voice of one Joel Miller, and perhaps even the calloused fingers cupping your cheeks before taking your own to lurch himself back up, you were met by the spitting shriek straight into your face. ‘Oh, fuck!’ 
You roll backwards, slamming the back of your head straight into an iron railing. ‘Oh, doubley fu-’ Your shout is muffled by fingernails scraping over your forehead, a hand grasping onto your face and digging in until you could feel blood begin to run down the bridge of your nose. Grappling with your hand, you simultaneously try to pitch your knee up to stop the clicker from completely detaching from the wall and clambering on top of you, and wrestling past its bumpy elbow to reach the knife stuck behind your back. Gnashing teeth leaves drool dripping down onto your neck, and you groan with the effort of trying to stop them from tearing a chunk out of your jugular.
You finally manage to grasp onto the hilt of your knife, trying to lift up your backside to slide it out of your pocket and straight into the skull of the infected on top of you. It doesn’t matter though. A second later, it feels as if molten is being poured in gushes down onto your bare skin; you stifle a shudder as the blood leaks out from the clicker’s eye sockets and sprays over your shoulder blades. You squint, just about managing to make out the outline of Joel’s clenched teeth and furrowed brow as he pulls the crowbar he had managed to find out of the thing’s skull. Pushing it to the side, it flops unceremoniously onto the floor.
‘Jesus...’, you warble out, still slightly in shock that you had come so close to the end right there and then. So clumsily close. So stupidly.
Joel doesn’t give you a chance to finish your thought. You swear it must have hurt when he threw himself down onto the ground, not even pretending to be calm and collected as he comes sliding on his knees over to you. 
‘Are you hurt?’ 
‘H-huh?’
His hands are shaking as they reach up to roam over your face, his movements rapid and rushed and so carelessly unlike him that it only winds you deeper into your confused stupor. Before this - sure, he may have been concerned, but it was always hidden behind a thick wall of confidence and level headedness. But this, this was different. He was gripping onto the sides of your face as if the skin was about to peel away from your body in front of him; he was trembling in the way only a man marred by ghosts could be. As the flashlight blinked across the floor, the glass smashed into fractured shoots by Joel’s fall, all his mind can see with each glare is Sarah suspended in front of him.
‘Are you hurt?’ His voice is shaking as he speaks, tilting your face back and forth as if he’s scanning you for any scrabs and bites, yet his fingers are moving too quickly to truly take any of you in.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I just, ah-’, you cup his hands and bring them to rest within your own, both of you using each other’s weight to try and lever yourselves to a standing position again. ‘I think my ankle is twisted slightly.’ You watch his eyes widen, and try your best to shoot him a reassuring smile despite how shaken you were feeling. ‘It’s alright, it’ll be fine once I shake it off. Especially since I see another med-pack over there.’ You let go of one of his hands to point past his shoulder, finally coming back to yourself when you spot another plastic box hanging, squished in between the pharmacist's desk and the wall. 
Despite the elated glow that seems to suddenly gleam in your eyes as you hobble over bits of broken glass and clamber over the smashed up computer monitor, Joel doesn’t let go of you the whole way. Not even when you unclasp the lock and throw the lid back, tilting your head back and laughing in near hysteric delight when you see the full bottles still nestled in dust inside. They move from your hands, up your arms and around your shoulders, squeezing your biceps as the two of you make your way quietly back through the supermall and back out towards the hole to freedom.
‘Fuck me! I thought you guys were gonners for sure!’ For a second, as you glanced out and saw Ellie bent over with her hands on her hips with the relief of seeing the two of you dumbasses hobble back into view, you thought the young girl was going to collapse to the ground. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned back to you with a surprisingly serious look on her face. ‘Did you find any comics in there?!’
‘Are you kidding-’ Joel murmurs out with a huff, waving his hand at her in dismissal. Ellie only raises her hand in a shrug before flipping him off, but the two of them are both smiling as Joel offers you his hand. You take it easily, but before you drop down to the grass again, you surprise Joel Miller for about the third time that day.
Before he even has a chance to blink, you lean towards him and press your lips against the side of his stubbly cheek. His eyes widen, but even as you press a second, quicker kiss against his cheek, he seems too stoic to pull away. When you finally do, he raises two fingers up to the wet patch now gleaming on his skin, and looks at you with a rapturous confusion.
‘Thank you. For everything. For still being here’, is all you whisper with a final look back at him, before falling down through the sliver of dark orange that still falls like firelight between the breaks in the pine trees. Ellie welcomes you back energetically, nearly knocking you over with the speed in which she comes running towards you and wraps her arms around your midriff, squishing the side of her face into your chest.
Joel watches the two of you for a moment: the way Ellie looks up at you as if you were pure unbridled hope as she unlatches herself from you, the way you grab her hand and help her hop back up onto Callus’ back, coming to rest on the side of the saddle before animatedly falling into conversation with her, most likely checking up to make sure she was doing okay with all of this.
He blinks back the wistfulness from his eyes as he stands on the stone strewn crag of the building, the soft ground suddenly seeming so far away. As he watches you, he tries to figure out what he feels: love? Longing? Guilt? Before he even notices, he finds his gaze has drawn itself back down to his wrist, the shattered clock face seemingly staring him down and stifling whatever happiness he was trying to feel.
He covers it with his hands, rubbing his fingers over the side as if it were burning his skin and he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of it anymore. But then you call over to him, and Ellie waves her hand up and beckons him to come down with a bright grin and yell, and suddenly the heaviness seems to unburden, to unlatch its grip on his stomach. 
Sure, the misery of his past still haunted him, still dragged behind his head as he jumped and landed on the ground with a thump. But as he slowly jogged back over to the two of you, the shadows were beginning to lift. The light was beginning to break through, and Joel Miller couldn’t remember feeling so bullishly light in all his life.
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 6 months
Text
❝ooh look at me i’m a coward❞
➵ “you’re such a scaredy cat.” — ❤︎
pairing: sodo ghoul x ghoul!gn!reader
theme: crack ✦
a/n: this relates back to my silly ghoul headcanons w sodo being absolutely terrified of hamsters. you can read those hcs here
cw: sex joke at the end, but other than that it’s just sodo being a stupid lil’ funny guy
┅✦┅
you were walking into the ghoul den after a long day of work and just wanted to rest up with your fellow packmates.
after such a hectic day, you just wanted to curl up in your room and snuggle in your sheets and forget about everything else.
“ah finally! home sweet home! now i can just relax and chill all day—“ you were quickly cut off by a loud, high pitched scream that almost broke the sound barrier.
a certain fire ghoul came practically barreling out of the room, running into the walls and scrambling all over his feet like a wet cat. he then spotted you and darted behind you, trembling like he just saw a damn ghost.
“…. sodo?” you asked both confused and concerned. “what’s going on—“
“don’t. go. in. the. kitchen.” sodo spoke in a firm, yet antsy tone.
it was kind of funny seeing him in his current state. sodo was trembling like a leaf, and his tail was inbetween his legs, but you didn’t want him to be so scared. sighing, you turned to face him and quirked an eyebrow.
“what’s going on in the kitchen—“ you started, but sodo put a hand to your mouth and obnoxiously shushed you, muffling your words in the process. he was practically cutting off your airflow with how harshly he pressed his palm to your hands.
“shh! shhhhh!!! it’ll hear you….” sodo whispered dramatically and frightfully, which only made you narrow your eyes at him.
forcing his clawed hand off of your face with a snarl, you just rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, completely ignoring the begging and near-to-tears sodo behind you.
when you entered the kitchen, you felt a little bit of your soul shrivel up on the inside from what you saw, but mainly because it was from disbelief.
on the kitchen counter, was a hamster.
“…. really, sodo? it’s just a hamster.” you said in a deadpanned voice, going over to pick up the cute little furball. however, sodo just squealed and his tail shot up in fear.
“no! get— get that thing away from me.” the fire ghoul practically shivered out, and you cocked your head to the side in confusion. then realization hit, and you struggled to hold in your laugh.
“pfft— sodo.. sodo you’re scared of hamsters?” you asked mischievously while bringing the hamster closer to sodo— and the little demon just screeched and jumped to the ceiling, clinging onto the top of the ceiling like a scared cat.
“NO I’M NOT!”
“….”
“… okay— okay maybe i am.“
“but why?”
“i don’t know! they’re… they’re creepy.”
it was kind of amusing, seeing your packmate acting like this. sodo, the grumpy, feisty and short-tempered fire ghoul, was shaking in his knees at the sight of a small, fuzzy little animal.
you stifled in a laugh and spoke again. “creepy? i’m hearing these words come from an all powerful demon who can kill a human in seconds.”
sodo rolled his eyes in response and stayed clinging to the ceiling, hissing at both you and the hamster.
“tell anyone about this and i’m making you swallow your fangs.”
“okay then! chill, sodo. the others will find out eventually.”
“literally go fuck yourself.”
“gladly! as long as you’re watching!”
“ugh, nevermind.”
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digenerate-trash · 4 months
Text
GN Ivory Wraith | GN PC
It started a couple of months ago. You kept getting up and being led to the edge of the forest. Always before you made it too deep though you managed to shake off whatever was calling you in. It's been getting harder though. And tonight you're particularly tired...
You don't even notice you've gotten up till you're standing on a trail leading into the woods. Bare feet softly pad against the dirt and rocks as you make your way in a trance toward the lake. Everything in the woods is eerily quiet. It's just the wind. And the soft constant sound of the lake in the distance.
You're more conscious part of your mind is panicking. Scratching at the back of your head like a viscous animal. Trying to get you to wake up. Snap out of it. But the haze that surrounds the rest of you can't register it. It's like hearing screaming from down the street.
When you get to the lakeside you shiver when you wade into the water but it doesn't stop your steady pace. Soon you swim down into the ruins. The ever-present allure makes it easy to overcome any fear you might of had.
When you finally break the suffice of the water again you panting. The shock of the cold air has woken you up a bit more and you glance around the ancient temple. Dragging your body up out of the water to rest on the shore for a moment. You're starting to come back down to earth and it's causing you to panic.
Your hand slips on the smooth tiles smearing dirt and mud across your already-soaked clothes. You pull yourself up from the ground carefully cradling your hurt arm.
It's too dark to see really. There's just a soft light coming in from the water but that's about it. Your haze is almost completely gone as you rest against the wall and think about how you're supposed to get out of here.
Then you're suddenly surrounded by something warm. Like a blanket covering you you still shiver as you feel soft delicate hands trace up your stomach to your chest
Your heart practically stops as the movement keeps going like it's trying to soothe you but when you move to look at the thing that's holding you so gently you meet with something terrifying. Its face is a twisted maw of sharp teeth and wide black eyes gaze at you. Stands of silvery hair cover the more gnarled bits of its face and body naked as it is. You can see a writhing mass of fumbling ever moving limbs and tentacles attached to uts torso and a necklace that hangs around its collarbones dangling down to its pale chest, Ancient looking. The metal and string are tarnished and old. Bits of bone and jewels hang off the mangled jewelry. You're tempted...oh so tempted to take it
But when you reach out for it your eyes wide the thing grabs your arm with multiple limbs and screeches loudly. The old temple seems to shake with the noise as it wrestles you down to the ground easily. The thing is drooling over you the many limbs keeping you pinned easily. Its black eyes meet yours and there's nothing behind them...
It isn't long before it tears your clothes off sharp claws dragging against your skin ripping and tearing into every part of you until you're completely bare. All of its limbs work together to pull your legs up and pin them to your chest so hard it's difficult to breathe. Multiple tentacles slide over your hole as you squirm and try to choke out cries for help but nothing seems to stop the thing as it presses one of the larger tentacles into you ruthlessly.
Your body tenses up but the creature shutters above you. It must have been so long...
You shake off the thought trying to keep control. This thing doesn't deserve sympathy for raping you. You try and fight it off as best you can as you're fucked against the temple floor your body hurts as it continues to stuff as much of its slimy tentacle into your body
Its gaping sharp toothed mouth drools all over you as it continues to stuff you full. Tongue sliding between is teeth as it continues to hold you. Other tentacles pick up and start to fondle and grope your body coating you in slime.
It's comfortable...warm... you should just give in
You shake off that thought and try to focus again. How do you get this thing off of you?!
You start to feel a bulge at the end of the tentacle and it presses against you. Your body is on fire as you try and resist it.
Why are you resisting..?
You relax and It's not long before the bulge forces its way into you. You can feel it settling into your guts. Your body is tense when the tentacle bulges again. Dropping another slimy egg into your body. They're heavy. The thing over top of you seems so satisfied with your cooperation...
They deserve to be satisfied.
When it pulls out you've lost track of how many heavy eggs you've taken in. Your body is slick and warm still your stomach bulging out a bit.
The creature on top of you keeps licking at your delicate flesh tasting your skin and letting its hands play in the slime that coats your body.
When you finally wake up again you're surprised to find yourself still in the temple. Your stomach hurts so much as you try and leave.
But before you can You can feel someone tugging on you a bit.
Stay
And you do. The figure steps in front of you and smiles. A beautiful ghost... so pretty and soft looking. The only thing you seem to notice about it is the necklace that hangs off of them. It reaches out and places a warm hand on your stomach, the feeling sends shivers up your spine as you relax into its touch.
And you stay
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slashersteve · 2 years
Text
Just Hold Me
Tumblr media
requested by anonymous
pairing: Steve Harrington/Female Reader
summary: Your new nightmares cause you to distance yourself from your boyfriend while he’s still healing from the wounds that could’ve killed him. Steve isn’t going to let you though, and begs you to spend the night with him.
warnings/extra tags: mentions of death, injuries, nightmares/night terrors, angst, comfort, soft and caring steve who's still healing from his own injuries :( , kissing :) , beta read, editted by me and autocorrect
note: this fic is a whole "idc about what happens in v2" because in my hc vecna gets annihilated (again) and doesn't get the chance to murder and traumatize anyone else...at least like...a little... anyway thank you for the request and as always enjoy!
✧ ✧ ✧
You were no stranger to night terrors. Hell, they were all that you had following that night you, Nancy Wheeler, and Jonathan Byers hunted and trapped the demogorgon that terrorized Hawkins in 83 and killed Nancy's best friend Barbara.
The dreams of this over 9 foot tall, inter dimensional creature that had sharp claws and rows, and rows of teeth made the nightmares you’d have before look like child’s play. Mostly because it was real, as the dream of a clown chasing you as a kid with a knife was not, but this creature? It was real, you even had the scar to prove it.
As the years passed, your nightmares would not only get worse but actually expand. You would not only hear the clicking and whistling of a demogorgon crawling through your wall or a demodog hiding in the bushes as you were typically trapped in the middle of the woods in your nightmares but also smell the stench of burnt human flesh and feel the ground shaking beneath you as you ran away from this unstoppable being. That was courtesy of the Mind Flayer last summer, of course.
After going through what you had been through, along with the others, it was just something that you’d have to, not get used to per say, but more so…deal with and work through.
The most common way was to talk to the others about it, share your nightmares and don’t let it bottle up. That’s what you and Steve did, as many times either you or him have woken up in a cold sweat and had to dial the others number to talk to each other. It was always easier if you were next to each other though, so that you could hold him or he could hold you.
And it was a system that worked, up until very recently.
These new nightmares that plagued you were on a different level of horrifying. After experiencing the dimension these creatures came from first-hand, things had taken a turn for the worse mentally (and physically as you were sure you were short of breath more frequently).
They weren't just about being trapped there, and attacked by what you and your friends who were with you elected to call demobats, or about just you getting fatally injured anymore, but rather about...somebody else and that was your boyfriend, Steve Harrington.
You've dreamt of it before, but in the week following your forced adventure to the Upside Down, it was taking a heavy toll on you because it didn't seem very far off from what actually had happened.
One of these dreams always started with you in the water of Lover's Lake, and it's deeper in your dream than it actually was. You're swimming down as fast as you could in total darkness, water filling up your lungs and your body growing heavy with fatigue, but you never stopped in the dream because you knew who you were swimming toward.
Then, you're in the Upside Down, and you can't breathe in the thick, particle filled air of this other world that mirrored yours, and instead of swimming, now you're running.
Except, you're slow, too slow and all you could hear are the horrid, loud screeches of the demobats that are in the cloudy sky above you and circling something in the distance like how vultures might circle a deteriorating animal carcass.
The red flashes of lightning are almost deafening, as if they are hitting right next to you rather than in the distance like they actually had been and you're still running in slow-motion when everything around you is not. Like the being here was teasing you, and...well he was.
You're still running, except now you're a little closer, and that's when you see who you're trying to get to. It's Steve, he's standing there covered in his own blood, and open wounds, swinging an oar to try and get the swarm of demobats away from him.
He's grunting and he is yelling, and it's echoing in your ears. You call out to him, but he doesn't hear you, and then, the swarm engulfs him and you hear a final cry before your gasping awake in your bedroom.
It takes you a moment to realize you're awake, that you're not desperately running to Steve in the Upside Down or that you were drenched in your own sweat rather than the lake water of Lover's Lake.
For a few seconds, you still hear Steve's shout of pain, echoing in your mind. When the echo is gone, and you realize you're on your own bed in the darkness of your room, you're hyperventilating and trying to catch your breath as tears streamed down your cheeks.
You don't fall asleep again, and rather stay sitting up, hugging your knees in your chest and crying until the sun begins to peak through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window.
✧ ✧ ✧
Steve was excused from his job at Hawkins Family Video because of his injuries that nearly killed him in the Upside Down and after, and because of this, you had taken up most of his shifts since you weren't a high schooler like Robin was.
For the first few days of his medical leave, you would spend everyday with him after you clocked out, even when you had a closing shift past midnight.
Recently though, you stopped doing it.
The first night you didn't go over when he knew your shift was over, he called Family Video asking where you were. Robin had been the one to answer, and had told him you left hours ago.
It was stupid of you to disappear like that without warning, you knew that, especially since what happened only over a week ago when Vecna was killing teens left and right. You scared them, you scared him, but a single phone call that night assured Steve you were okay, that you were just tired of the long shifts and needed a night to recharge and promised to tell him next time.
He understood of course, and it only made you feel bad because the real reason was every time you looked at him, you could only think of your nightmares. Every time your eyes caught the bandages around his abdomen or the still visible bruising around his neck, you felt like you couldn't breathe again.
It was worse when he'd ask you to help him switch the bandage out. His wounds simply scared you, and so did the small sounds of pain when you had to take the bloody gauze pad off to exchange for a new one. Your body would freeze over, and then...you would find a reason to leave.
After a second time of not going to visit him again, you felt bad about leaving him alone, so you asked Robin if she could go see him for you.
"I don't think I'm the one he wants to see, but if that's what you want then alright," Robin told you, "Are you okay, though? I mean...I don't see how any of us can be okay after all that...but..."
"Yeah, I'm as okay as I can be," you lied with a convincing smile, "My mom just needs me home tonight since I've been at his place all last week, could you tell him that?"
Robin stared at you for a long moment, as if she could see right through you.
"Hey," she started, "We're all friends here who experienced all that...shit, I just...want to remind you that. If something's wrong then you know it makes sense for us to talk and help each other."
You knew that, you always have and considering how Vecna took and manipulated his victims, keeping things in like this was not a great idea, and yet, you were keen on keeping it to yourself for now.
"I'm okay, Robin," you told her as you were pulling out the headphones to your walkman and putting them over your head, "Tell Steve that too, please?"
You didn't wait for an answer, already turning your music on and giving her a thumbs up.
Had you not turned your music on, you would've heard Robin's skeptical response.
"Sure, I'll lie to him for you," Robin had said before watching you walk out through the front door to go on your lunch break.
Robin visited Steve that night, and then the night after that, and then the morning after that, but this time with Dustin at her side.
Steve was sitting in bed when they came barging in, and for a moment, his eyes had lit up because he was sure you would be one of them, but when he saw Robin (again) and then Dustin and his dumb hat, Steve didn't hide his disappointment even though they had bags of food and more movies for him to keep himself occupied today.
"You guys again?" he asked.
"Hey, it's my first time coming to visit you since last week," Dustin proclaimed, offended by such a question and Robin pat his head.
"It's not you Henderson, it's me he's so excited to see again," Robin told the kid.
Dustin raised a curious brow, and asked why Robin was the one seeing him the past few days and not you. Robin shrugged and crossed her arms while Steve frowned deeply.
"She coming tonight?" Steve asked Robin, and she shrugged to him this time in response as she sat on the end of his bed and Dustin moved to set down the bags of things on the desk in Steve's room.
Steve shook his head and flipped the covers off of him when Dustin turned and grimaced.
"Dude put some pants on, there's a girl here," Dustin told him with disgust, to which Steve gave him a look because he was literally wearing boxer shorts. It wasn't good or respectful enough for Dustin, who grasped some folded, freshly washed sweatpants that were stacked on top of other folded clothes on his desk chair and tossed it at Steve.
It hit him in the chest, and Robin had let out a short laugh as she fell backwards onto his bed. Her head knocked into something hard, and she raised a brow as she stuck her hand under her head and realized she had hit her head on a book.
Steve slowly put the sweats on as he asked again for clarification, "So she isn't coming today?"
"Based on her track record the past few days, I would say don't count on it," Robin replied to him as she stared up at the book, and he scowled.
He couldn't help but be agitated that his own girlfriend was very clearly avoiding him.
At the sight of Steve's graveling, Dustin huffed and said, "It's only been a few days Steve, you'll survive, I mean, I can't even see Suzie because we're states apart."
Steve rested his unamused expression on Dustin while he pushed his messy strands of hair out of his face and said, "Henderson, you chose to date a girl who lived in Utah, and it's not just that, something's wrong, she wouldn't just stop coming to see me..."
"Maybe she's just tired of playing nurse, I know I would be," Robin said as she set the book aside, and it was her turn to get Steve's unamused glare, she cringed and said, "It's only a joke, but yeah I would say something's up."
Dustin had moved the clothes off the desk chair and sat down, and said, "Well, it has just been a week since Vecna, so maybe she just needs some space mentally."
Steve looked at Dustin for a moment, before his eyes fell down.
You were distancing yourself, that much was obvious, but the reasoning for it wasn't as obvious to Steve. He knew it wasn't out of malicious intent and that was reassuring, but he knew it wasn't for a good reason either.
He missed you, a lot, even though it's only been a few days like Dustin said. Being home all of the time on bed rest was boring, and left him alone with his thoughts for too long. His highlight the past week was you showing up to brighten his dull days spent in his room, talking to him, kissing him, and overall just being there.
Really though, he wanted you here to see that you were okay rather than you sending others to tell him that you were when everyone knew you weren't.
"She still look tired?" Steve suddenly asked Robin, and she nodded.
"No more than the rest of us, honestly, but more tired than she usually looks," she replied, leaning on one hand to look at Steve  sympathetically.
Everyone was quiet, as they too weren't strangers to a loss of sleep due to the terrifying experiences they've all had and up until now, it just wasn't as scary as before considering one of Vecna's curse symptoms was loss of sleep. He was gone now though, as far as they knew, so it wasn't that. Something else was wrong, and Steve just needed and wanted to see you.
And thankfully, Robin and Dustin were on his side with this one.
Because of Steve's gloomy demeanor, Robin held up the book and said jokingly, "Have you been so bored without her that you started to read? I didn't even know you could."
His head snapped towards her, seeing the book you had given him back when he was in the hospital to try and keep him busy when you couldn't be there due to the strict visiting hours.
"It's another joke, god, we'll get your girlfriend over here so you can get that sense of humor back," Robin said, while Dustin laughed himself. Steve shook his head, but a small smile grew on his lips regardless.
That afternoon you were restocking videos on a shift with Keith when Robin and Dustin approached you.
You knew Robin had gone to see Steve, so when you saw their concerned expressions and considered the fact they were coming to you in the middle of your shift, you automatically assumed the worst.
"Why do you guys look so upset? Is it Steve? Is he okay?" you asked the both of them almost frantically. Dustin waved his hand side to side.
"No, no Steve's o-"
"Here's an idea," Robin cut Dustin off before he could assure you Steve was okay, physically at least, "Why don't you go down there and see for yourself if he's okay."
It wasn't condescending at all when she told you that, but your heart fell like it was, like she was insulting your ability to be a good girlfriend to her best friend.
Dustin cleared his throat when he saw your torn expression and added, "He misses you, I mean, he always does even before this, which I don't see why since he used to see you everyday here..."
There was this ongoing feud between him and Dustin about Dustin believing Steve had no right to miss you after a few days or even hours that you were reminded of again. It made you want to smile.
"You should probably go see him, it was really depressing this morning," Dustin finished, making your almost smile completely vanish and be re-replaced by the same frown that's been on your face since your night terrors began.
"Look," Robin started, "Henderson is right on the money here, he doesn't want to see me, or him, or anybody else, he wants to see you, so tonight, go see him, even if just for a bit."
You inhaled deeply, but didn't say anything as you slowly began to continue shelving the tapes before Keith told you something.
Dustin and Robin looked at each other, and now he sighed, "I'm just saying, whatever is going on with you, he's probably going through the same thing, and being apart isn't helping you or him. Remember, all we have is each other, isn't that what you said a couple years ago?"
You snapped your head toward Dustin because he was right. You did say that once, after you, him, Steve, Max, and Lucas were almost killed by a bunch of demodogs. You had said it when Dustin and Lucas were arguing about who betrayed the party when you were walking in the woods, and they decided to forgive each other.
You can't believe he remembered that, but you could believe he used it to make you feel even worse about not seeing Steve. Your boyfriend's unofficial little brother was too smart at his age, you were sure of it.
They could tell by the look in your eyes that you were convinced to see Steve tonight, and when you turned around, Robin and Dustin lightly high-fived.
✧ ✧ ✧
Your shift ended just after 10 pm, and even after Robin and Dustin left, you knew you were going to force yourself to go see Steve. It was easy during work, as you could preoccupy your thoughts with helping someone find the right movie, taking out the trash, helping Keith with the returns, but when you were alone in your car, you felt that same anxiety wash over you, the kind that made your skin feel cold and your hands feel tingly and uncomfortable.
It was just Steve, your handsome boyfriend of 2 and a half years now, someone that you loved and could see yourself being with for the rest of your life if he would have you, you loved him, he was okay- injured yes, but okay.
And your nightmares were exactly what they were, nightmares, and you shouldn't let them keep you from him, not after Vecna tried to isolate Max from you guys.
When you finally made it to Steve's house, he was sitting in bed still with a book in his hands. It was the book you'd brought to him when he was still in the hospital because he needed something to do when you weren't there. He wasn't that big of a reader, but you told him to try anyways for you.
It was nice to see that he was, even though he hadn't even made it halfway through. Still, he must've been engrossed in it if he didn't even hear his door being open. He was even wearing reading glasses, and it made you smile softly.
You hadn’t seen him for a while so you took a moment to admire your boyfriend like you always did. You first let your eyes scan over his messy hair. He hasn’t been styling it because he had no reason to as of late, so his thick hair was sticking up in various directions. He was shirtless too and wearing those gray sweatpants of his.
Your eyes rested on his chest, admiring the chest hair there for longer than normal before your eyes fell to the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. That's when your smile began to falter, and the anxiety returned.
You had inhaled sharply, capturing Steve's attention finally. His eyes snapped upward, and his face instantly lit up at the sight of you.
"You're here!" he said, closing and practically tossing the book onto his nightstand and tearing off the reading glasses he didn't realize he needed until he started to read again.
Despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach and chest, you still found yourself smiling at his excitement to see you.
"If you didn't come today, I was going to defy the doctor's orders and drive to your house," Steve admitted to you as he sat more up. He clenched his teeth then, and you knew the simple movement had hurt him, resulting in your own chest hurting too.
"I'm sorry I haven't been coming around," you said truthfully, "All the extra shifts Keith puts me on have been exhausting."
You stepped further into the room, but didn't move close enough to kiss Steve like you always did. Instead, you stayed a good few feet away from him, your eyes scanning over the untouched stacks of movies you knew Robin and Dustin had brought him.
"I promise when I'm healed I'll make it up to you," Steve told you, you hummed in response, but didn't say much else. Steve stared at the side of your face with a frown on his lips, as he expected you to sit beside him or at least get closer to him.
"Hey," Steve called, making you look at him and he pat the spot beside him, "Come here."
You hesitated, eyes flashing from the space beside him and back at him. He noticed your eyes passing over his bandages, and he grinned at you softly, "You're not going to hurt me if you sit next to me, I promise. I'm not that fragile."
You pressed your lips together, and slowly went to sit beside Steve, sitting farther from him than he had wanted you to. Steve exhaled softly and moved closer to you, raising both of his brows questionably.
"Are you sure it's just the extra shifts?" he asked you, and you nodded in response.
"Yeah, it's a lot," you replied, half-lying and half telling the truth, "I also thought you'd like a change from just seeing me."
Steve scoffed, "You think I want to see Robin and Dustin every day rather than my own girlfriend?"
You giggled then and Steve laughed too, then settled his eyes back on you, and told you, "I don't mean to be...that guy...but...I haven't seen you in a few days and I want to kiss you so bad." That made you laugh again, so you leaned in to peck him gently on the lips.
It wasn't enough for Steve though, as you felt his hand reach up to gently grasp the back of your neck and pull you toward him again. His lips met yours in a tender kiss.
Your initial concerns faded away as he kissed you, as you were reminded in this moment of how good of a kisser your boyfriend was. His lips expertly sliding against yours, and the gentle swipe of his tongue over your bottom lip that made you putty in his hands making you realize how much you've missed kissing him too.
You tilted your head, giving him more access to your lips. Steve chuckled softly when you did so, and released your lips to say, "I guess I'm making those extra shifts up to you right now."
You licked your own lips, and simply leaned in to kiss him again in response. Steve smiled before returning your kiss, this time slipping his tongue in between your lips.
You fell forward then, and just as his tongue met yours, he suddenly grunted in pain. You immediately stopped, and snapped your eyes open and saw Steve's face was in a slight wince.
"Sorry," he told you, and your eyes widened as you leaned away from him realizing in your stupor you had touched his sides, "It wasn't you, I just turned awkwardly-"
"I-I think I have to go," you said suddenly, feeling guilty for having hurt him even though he said it wasn't you who did it. You still felt like you caused it.
Steve frowned, "No, don't- don't go, at least not yet- you barely got here."
"I know and I'm sorry, Steve," you were already trying to stand but Steve caught you, his brown eyes growing sad, and you said regretfully, "It's late Steve."
"I know but, I was thinking you could spend the night," Steve suggested, and a wave of fear washed over you, not sure if that was possible without having your reoccurring nightmare, "Come on...I've been alone all day and...honestly I don't want to be alone tonight."
You thought about all the nights you've spent gasping awake from your nightmares, how you would sit alone in the darkness of your room and found that it was the same for you. Maybe actually being with Steve was the cure to them, rather than the cause.
"Yeah...I don't want to be alone either," you admitted to him, and Steve smiled weakly at you before he pulled you back on the bed with him, except this time you didn't let him pull you closer or coax you into another heated kiss much to his dismay.
Rather, you laid beside him, keeping your attention on the movie you had put on in the TV in his room. You ended up falling asleep though, your eyes fluttering shut about halfway through the film.
For the first few seconds, your subconscious was blissfully quiet, and peaceful, giving you the impression that tonight would be the first night you didn't have that night terror...well...until you heard a splash of water and a loud crack of lightning.
Steve was laying beside your sleeping figure, his eyes starting to flutter shut and join you in sleep when suddenly the bed jolted underneath him. His tired eyes snapped open, and he thought maybe he had one of those jerks or something that tend to happen before people fall asleep and they feel like they're falling, but when it happened again and a quiet whimper that he didn't make followed it, Steve knew that wasn't it.
Rubbing his eyes, he turned his head to look at you. You were laying on your side facing him. You jerked again, waking Steve up even more, and he sat up to get a better look at you.
From the light of the television that reflected on you, he could see your troubled expression. Your face was contorted, eyebrows taunt and your lips were parted. Very obviously you were dreaming, and he was willing to bet it wasn't a good one.
"Hey, babe," Steve tried, reaching one hand over to you to gently rest on your shoulder. You shook away from him, quick paced breaths releasing through your parted lips as one would when they were on a run. Steve's stomach dropped, and he ignored the pain in his healing wounds as he turned his whole body toward you, trying to shake you awake.
As he, Dustin, and Robin figured, you were suffering from nightmares, and the content of them could've been anything, but at this moment Steve just wanted to make you wake up, especially when tears began to squeeze out of your eyes and your fast breaths turned into quiet cries.
"Hey! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" he said louder, and finally your eyes snapped open and you were gasping loudly as you jolted upward without warning. Steve had even released you as you were suddenly sitting up, hands moving over your face as you cried into them due to your night terror.
Steve sighed out of relief though that he managed to get you awake, and then he said, "Hey- hey come here, it was just a nightmare-" His hand touched your shoulder blade affectionately.
Upon hearing his voice and feeling his gentle touch on your back, you were pulled back into reality faster than the other time's you've woken up from your dream. Your breaths slowed down, and Steve gently scooted toward you, wrapping his arm fully around you as he told you quietly, "It's alright, it was just a nightmare-"
You leaned into Steve, your quiet cries turning into sobs as you sought comfort in his warm embrace, something that you didn't have these past nights and was actually depriving yourself of.
Steve held you then, letting you press your head against his chest to listen to his beating heart and the pain that he typically with every moment seemed to have subsided so that he could continue holding you.
"It's alright," he told you again softly, "I'm right here, it was just a dream...just a bad dream."
Steve didn't even know the content of your nightmares, that you were dreaming of losing him in the Upside Down, but he somehow knew it was exactly what you needed to hear. You nodded against him, nuzzling your face into his chest and taking his presence in.
After a moment of sitting here with him like this, Steve asked if you wanted to talk about it.
Your voice was hoarse as you told him not yet, but promisied you would tell him all about it later as you now realized it was something you needed to talk about in order to get through.
Steve accepted your response, knowing that you would tell him perhaps in the morning, and he asked, "Is there anything I can do right now?"
You inhaled deeply, taking in his unique scent, and replied softly, "Just keep holding me, Steve, please."
And he did.
He held you tightly against him, up until your heart calmed down and your body stopped trembling, up until you started to drift off to sleep again, which was something you couldn't do when you were alone and without him.
You don’t remember if the nightmare happened again when you fell asleep, but what you do remember is waking up still in Steve’s warm embrace with the sun barely peeking through the curtains of his window and then kissing Steve awake.
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storiesbyrhi · 11 months
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: Death is here. 3051 words.
Notes: As per canon, Max is in the hospital. Argyle left Hawkins once he dropped Jonathan, Will, and Mike off, at the urging of Jonathan – who did not want his friend to be hurt. Maybe headcanon that he went back to Suzie’s place in case they needed her expertise and also because, ya know, Eden.
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1843
Left in the sunlight, a vampire would not explode nor turn to ash and float away in the breeze. They would burn, blister, and shrivel until their body lay twitching and immobile. This provided a very brief window of respite from their evil; as soon as night came or shade was provided, the vampire would begin to heal.
Whatever damage, they could heal. Sunlight’s scorch. Blessed blades’ cuts. Holy water’s burn. Nothing could kill a vampire. A witch could curse a vampire to trap them in places, times, and forms; but ultimately, it had always come down to a fight.
At the beginning of the 18th century, a witch from a Romanian coven wrote a spell. It would allow a conjurer to summon a ball of sunlight to wound the vampires. The wounds would linger, fester, and scar their marble skin. Ripples in an otherwise perfect complexion. The Romanian witch had to offer her life in exchange for the gift of the spell to bless all of her kind.
And so, “lux solis urere hic malum,” became the witchfire war cry.
By 1843, the vampires had been hunting the humans your coven protected for seven years. The sunlight spell helped, but it was no longer enough. Your coven’s strongest wordsmith, Penelope, had been at work, spending days… months… years… on end hunched over her alter and communing with The Witches Who Came Before.
It was a bitter morning when Penelope’s magic worked for the final time. Frost bit at the tips of leaves and even the most hardened farmers took an extra minute to get out of bed, while she worked to ensure not only the protection of humankind, but the freedom of all witches.
Through bloodletting, she poured herself into a bucket, a witch’s sacrifice the last ingredient in a potion so strong, a single drop was death to an entire colony. Your aunt painstakingly soaked paper in the potion, let the sheets dry, then ground them up into a matte powder. She went into the night, her fist full of dust, and blew into the face of the undead.
The vampire had forgotten what it was like to breathe, but as quick as the feeling returned, it was taken away, and he clawed at his throat for air. He screeched until he shredded his own throat deep enough to sever his vocal cords. Then, not by God nor sword but by a magic woman’s hand, he was no more.
1986
Little witch echoed in your head.
You tore your gaze away from Eddie and blinked off the haziness that had overcome you. Change the subject, change the subject.
“So…” you started, but lost your intended sentence.
“So,” Eddie repeated.
“I don’t… I don’t know what we’re meant to do now…”
He rolled his shoulders back and considered his options. There was an urge to run, to abandon you and leave the doomed Hawkins. Go to the cities, feed, make more vampires. It was his first thought, primal and defining.
Eddie didn’t know if was all those years in bat form or if he had been patient in his forgotten life, but he was willing and able to wait on his primage urges. While his memories weren’t returning, his personality was, and he personally found it very amusing that a witch had knowingly brought vampires back from extinction.
That’s what he was telling himself. That he was not moving from your couch because he was entertained. That it wasn’t the feeling he got calling you ‘little witch.’ That it wasn’t a familiarity he couldn’t place. That it wasn’t your smile or smell.
You wondered what he was thinking. It occurred to you then, that he was probably sizing you up. “Do you remember what it feels like?” you asked. Eddie’s eyebrows rose. “The witchfire?”
His naked body had been in front of you enough for you to know the witchfire scars run along parts of his torso, and it covered his arms. Part of his neck, jaw, and cheek had been marked too.
“No,” he answered, holding a hand out and examining it. “Remind me?”
Hesitating, you thought about it. The burning smell. “Um… It would burn, like the sun. But concentrated. You couldn’t heal from it fast. Couldn’t wash it away with darkness,”
“It disturbs you,”
“No… Not… Not the vampire part. It’s the rest. Everything that happened around the vampire part.”
Eddie nodded. “Show me.” Your puzzled expression made him grin, fangs and all. “Witchfire. Show me,”
“You might not remember the pain, but assure you it definitely hurts,”
“Then hurt me,” he replied.
“I liked you better as the bat.”
Eddie laughed. “You spoke of witchfire first. You want to show me you are not weak. So, show me.”
Huffing, you crossed your arms over your chest. It only made him happier. You tried to pretend you weren’t loving it by standing up and walking a few steps away.
“Come on, little witch. You did not go to all that trouble to get me here, just to not play with me now.”
You knew you shouldn’t.
Muttering the spell under your breath, “Lux solis urere hic malum,” you held your hand out, palm side up, and let a ball burn into existence. Without nurturing it, it remained the size of a tennis ball, floating just above your skin. As you turned and walked back to the couch, you watched the witchfire reflect in his dark eyes, getting brighter the closer you got.
When you sat, Eddie moved closer still. He looked at the orb in awe rather than fear. “Your magic is…” He shook his head softly. “Remarkable.” He slowly held a finger up to the fire, you pulled your hand back, extinguishing it.
“It will burn.”
Eddie didn’t move. His sly smile did not falter. He waited.
“Fine…” And you repeated the spell and brought the fireball back to him.
Eddie’s eyes grew wider as he got closer, then as the tip of his finger touched the flames, he hissed and flung himself back so hard he rolled off the side of the couch.
Cackling with laughter, you clapped your hands together to kill the fire.
His face popped up over the armrest glaring at you, then in a literal blink, half his body was over the side coming towards you. He froze, timing his movements with your blinking. You didn’t see him change positions. It was terrifying. His arm looked twisted somehow, or maybe it was the sharp angles he was holding himself in. Spiderlike.  Murderous.
You held your breath and tried to wait it out, but the trailer’s air wasn’t clean enough to let you stare for long. When you blinked, he was instantly halfway across the couch.
Terrifying, but exhilarating.
It would take one more. Less than half a second. A single blink. He’d be on you.
Eddie’s pupils were wide, dark, void of emotion. His lips were in a twisted smile that let his sharp teeth show just enough. Nails clawed into the plush of the couch. A monster, no doubt, but somehow still so profoundly beautiful that you couldn’t bear to look away.
Through his complete stillness, Eddie listened to how quickly your heart rate began to race. You were breathing through your mouth, audible and shaky. Like his, your pupils were blown. Although he couldn’t recall when or where or to whom, Eddie knew he’d played this game before. It wasn’t like this though.
You closed your eyes with purpose. He was silent, but you felt the weight of him as he climbed over you.
Eddie waited for you to open your eyes, or push him away, or conjure witchfire, or any number of predictable things. Instead, you short-circuited his brain when you giggled. A happy sound. Carefree. Unafraid. Then, with your eyes still closed, you slowly laid back.
One of your legs hung off the side of the couch, while Eddie straddled your other. He held himself above it but you could still feel him there. His hands were still clawed into the fabric, one on the backrest, the other next to your head. As you laid yourself back, he followed you down, letting his weight distribute on his knees.
When your eyes opened, you were looking up into a soften expression. You could see the chocolate brown of his eyes. The ghost of freckles he earnt as a human and couldn’t shake as a vampire. His expression – a gooey combination of confusion, curiosity, and something else.
“I told you it would burn,” you whispered, turning your head and taking the hand next to your head. A mortal man would have collapsed, unable to maintain the position, but his nimbleness prevailed and he remained still. Eddie watched you study the finger he’d held the flame. It was a raw wound, but it would heal.
Without thinking it through, you kissed it. He let you. As your lips touched his skin, the hunger roared through him. Suddenly, he was at the door of the trailer. You scrambled, standing up.
“I must go,” he said.
“I can’t let you-”
“I will return,”
“You-”
“I won’t,” he assured you as if he was reading your mind.
“Promise me,” you demanded. “Say it,”
“I’ll return to you,” Eddie swore. “I won’t harm any of your humans.”
You hugged yourself and frowned.
Eddie said your name softly. “I will return to you.”
The trailer door slammed and he was gone.
Steve Harrington died in pain. There were no memories flashing before his eyes. No warm bright light to follow. Just agony. The feeling of his bones snapping through his skin. His eyeballs squelching inwards just before it all stopped. Then, he was gone.
There was no time to hold Steve or to carry his body to a safe place. Nancy Wheeler screamed and thrashed against everyone as they tried to pull her back. It took the brawn of Jim Hopper to hold her tight and carry her to the car. The group sped away, reeling from another loss.
Steve made three. Murray Bauman and Dmitri ‘Ezno’ Antonov died a week prior, on the Party’s second ill-fated attempt at taking Vecna down.
Nancy and Robin held onto each other in grief-stricken desperation in the back of the truck. El Hopper, not a witch but magic nonetheless, blamed herself.
“What are we gonna do…?” Joyce Byers’ small and scared voice asked from the front. “How are we going to keep them safe?”
Nobody answered.
The ride to where the Party was held up was void of conversation. They’d taken up in the empty lakeside house of one of Hawkins’ currently incarcerated drug dealers. Hopper, assumed dead but still a cop, knew Reefer Rick wasn’t going to come home anytime soon.
Inside the house, Dustin Henderson was the first to notice Steve’s absence.
While the children cried, Hopper and Joyce huddled in the corner. They were both pale with shock. Joyce shook her head. “We can’t keep doing this,”
“We’re getting them out of here. Sue and Charles were right to take Lucas and Erica. I’ll drag Henderson to his mom. Get them out of Hawkins. Mike too,”
“You think he’ll leave El?”
“Won’t give him a choice.”
Nancy, forcing herself into stoic resolve appeared. “I’m not leaving,” she asserted.
“Nancy,”
“No. We have to end this. For Will. And El. For Steve. For everyone. We have to end this.”
Within hours, half the Party was on route to evacuation, leaving Joyce and her sons – Will and Jonathan, Hopper and El, Nancy, and Robin. Like Nancy, Robin refused to abandon ship; vengeance was on the minds of the teenage girls.
“He’s getting stronger,” Will said. They were all sitting around Reefer Rick’s kitchen table. Will’s skin was tinged a sickly blue. His connection to Vecna and the Upside Down had never truly been severed.
“We cannot fight him there,” El added.
“So, we need a hometown advantage? How do we get him up here?” Hopper posed.
There were no suggestions or solutions at first. Then, Nancy thought out loud, “We need help. Maybe if we go back to Victor, to his dad…”
“Help!” Robin yelled suddenly. “We need help!”
Everyone watched her. “Erica. Erica’s leg should not have healed that quick. And it wasn’t just a sprained ankle. That was… that was Vecna magic poison shit, right? So, so, the girl that helped. Erica said she was weird. What if she’s like…” Robin gestured at El. “You know, superpowers weird? What if she can help?”
“Where would we even find her?” Joyce asked.
“Yeah, I don’t know, seems like a-” but before Nancy could finish, Robin interrupted.
“A shot in the dark?!”
When a knock on your door woke you up, you tripped over your feet to get there. It was as you opened it you realised Eddie wouldn’t have knocked. You’d learnt the hard way vampires did not need an invitation; they’d carefully cultivated that myth themselves.
Standing on your doorstep was a group of people. Although you recognised them, it was only Robin who recognised you.
“I told you we shouldn’t have all come,” one of them mumbled. Jonathan.
“We need your help,” Robin said. “We know you have superpowers. We know you did something to Erica. You have to help us,”
“She means ‘please.’ Please help us,” Nancy corrected.
Pure desperation.
Utter grief.
Abject misery.
“Come in.”
They told you the story, beginning in 1947 when Henry Creel was born. The Lab. Papa. Eleven. Will Byers going missing. The Upside Down. Barb. Demogorgon. Dr Sam. Demodogs. Bob. The Mind Flyer. Kali. Billy’s possession. Russian invasions. Starcourt. Hopper’s not-death. More Russians. Vecna. Demobats. Kate Bush. Max Mayfield lying in a hospital bed. Murray. Enzo. Steve.
“So, now it’s your turn. What’s, ah, what’s your deal?” Robin was pacing, nearly manic. Only Steve had ever been able to focus her energies, now he was gone and she was lost at sea.
“You’re not like me,” El said. She was sat between Hopper and Joyce on the couch. Will sat at his mother’s feet. Nancy perched herself on the barstool while Jonathan stood against the kitchen bench next to her.
You blocked Robin from taking another step, taking one of her hands and holding it tight. Her eyes welled up with tears. “When this is done and if we survive, I will help you talk to him. You are owed a farewell.” You turned to the group. “You of all are.”
Robin dropped to the floor and folded in on herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and rocking. You let her self-soothe.
“The first thing you need to understand is that involving myself in this could make it worse. Vecna is a parasite. He has his own power, but he feeds off others’ too. The other world, the Upside Down, he draws power from there. From you, Eleven. Even you, Will,”
“But he’s just a boy,” Joyce said sadly.
“I don’t think he is… You’re something else. But… nothing that can help us now. My point is that if gets a hold of me, he doesn’t just get my magic. He’ll find a doorway to all witches. That’s… Well, it’s almost endless power. He will not be stopped. He will take this plane of existence. And, he might find ways to the others.”
There was a stunned and pensive silence.
“So… It’s, it’s a gamble,” Nancy concluded.
“And we’re betting… literally the entire world…”  Jonathan said, looking at her. She nodded.
“What if he already knows about you?” Will asked, voice quiet.
You sat down on the carpet on the opposite side of the coffee table. Eye level with Will, you studied his face. “You feel him…” Will nodded. “And he feels me?”
“No,” Will replied. “He saw Erica, after you healed her,”
“Are you sure?” Joyce asked him.
Will shook his head. “No… But… he might.”
Cutting through the tension like a chainsaw through salted butter, the phone rang. Nobody was spared from the jolt of fear.
You jumped up to answer it, knowing the few people who had your number. “Hello?”
“You need to get out of Hawkins,”
“It’s fine,”
“No. It’s not,”
“Kelsey, whatever the news is saying-”
“You don’t understand. It’s not on the news. As far as the humans know, the clean up of Hawkins is going well and there hasn’t been any more casualties – injured or dead.” There was something worse than panic in Kelsey’s voice that you hadn’t heard in decades.
“What’s going on?” you asked, skipping over the obvious ‘that’s not what’s happening’ and rhetorical ‘how do you know about what happened?’
“The Witches Who Came Before. They’ve given a warning to the coven.”
Your blood ran cold, so cold it felt like ice, like all the red had frozen solid in your veins. Kelsey didn’t continue, maybe too afraid to tell you, maybe wanting to give you a chance to bail from the conversation if you wanted to go entirely rogue.
“Karhu. What’s the warning?”
Kelsey hadn’t heard her first, her ancient name, for centuries; she wanted to sob. She remained stoic and delivered the mystic caution. “He knows. He knows you’re close. He doesn’t know what you are. He can’t find you like he can find the humans. But it’s only a matter of time.”
Divine timing.
“And the coven? What are they going to do?
“Ah, well, they-they’re gonna set up a border. Around Hawkins. He-he shouldn’t be able to cross it. And his power shouldn’t be able to, you know, get through. But, um…” Kelsey was nervous, stuttering as she anxiously reported.
“But what?”
“They haven’t worked out if… If it’s better that you… Uh…”
She didn’t have to say it. “If it’s better that I’m trapped in here with him. Right? ‘Cause if I run, he’ll come after me,”
“Yeah,” Kelsey whispered. “I’m sorry… I tried-”
“Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry. You haven’t done anything. And don’t try to… Don’t fight the coven on my behalf, okay?”
Kelsey was crying.
You looked back at the terrified faces watching you intently.
“He’s powerful, but he’s just another monster. Just another leech. We have outlived famine and demons and war and witch hunts. Henry Creel is no match for a witch.”
End Note: I personally feel like the 1843 section of this chapter slaps so hard. Grimoire updated to include witchfire, and the timeline has been updated too.
You know the drill. Tell me your thoughts and feelings! I need them! xo Rhi
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Vesuvia Weekly: The Marketplace Incident
~ my little written sketch for @vesuviaweekly's prompt "How Things Went Wrong (feat the Arcana familiars)". Enjoy an afternoon from the perspective of my fandom self-insert :3 ~
Word count: 1.5k
The marketplace really is the best spot to write in. The bustle of afternoon shoppers in the sunny square is a soothing view from my shaded nook, tucked between Selasi's booth and an alleyway of stairs. The steady sea breeze makes the parchment in front of me flutter, carrying the smell of spiced bread as it tousles my hair from my forehead.
"Need a refill?" The baker leans on the stone wall above the low table I'm pretending to draft my next story on. "Maybe it will help the ink flow better."
"Thanks, Selasi, but I'm afraid I've barely had a sip." I gesture to my mostly-full clay cup. "It's a good blend, though - what did you use for it this time?"
"A craftsman never shares his secrets." He hunches closer, not-so-subtly trying to sneak a peek at my handwriting. "What is today's writing about? More of our six friends' adventures, by a friendly young man whose signature is a rotting brain?"
I roll my eyes at his teasing smile. "Okay, using the moniker 'brainrot' doesn't automatically mean gruesome physical decay -"
We both jump at the sudden cat's yowl from the direction of the baker's counter. A fuzzy orange blur streaks to my corner, tiny claws digging into my shirt as it uses me as a ladder to get to Selasi's shoulder.
"Pounce? What is it, little one?"
"Bad dogs!" Faust's face pops into view, her body slowly unwinding from the cloth umbrella over me.
I barely have time to stabilize her plop onto my arm before I catch sight of two more barking fuzzy blurs tearing around the corner, a screeching raven flapping frantically after them. All three start heading in my direction as soon as they see me stand up to intervene. "Mercedes, Melchior! Come here!"
As ill-trained as I know Lucio's dogs are, the half-finished roll I hold out in their direction is more than enough to convince them. They slide to a halt in front of me, paws and tail still skittering from side to side, eyes trained on the treat. The flustered raven descends on my shoulder and Faust scoots onto Selasi's arm to give him more space.
"It's rare to see these fellows here without their owners ..." The baker runs his hand over Pounce's bushed-out tail in a soothing arc. "Did something happen?"
"What didn't happen?" I mumble in response. I don't think I recognize the strange goop Faust has left on my shirt, or the hooped earring in Malak's beak, or the concerningly pleasant smell wafting off of the dog's silky coats. I hold out my palm in front of the bird on my shoulder. "Give me the shiny, please. Which friend did you take this from?"
"Took it when I squeezed!"
"Who did you squeeze, Faust? Was it Julian?"
"Stinky count. Stole my fishies!"
The hissed voice clearly belongs to a cat, but it's not coming from the trembling ginger tabby in Selasi's arms. Pepi lopes into view on the wall above me with a smug look on her little face. Oh, right. I keep forgetting that she learned how to talk ...
"Lucio ... stole your fish?"
"Pepi earned the fishies - Pepi was a good cat and caught all the rats! Went to the docks to get the fishies, but he took them first!"
I try to piece the narrative together, noticing what looks like a pearly white owl listening in from the roof of the booth. "So ... Portia went to buy Pepi some fish, but Lucio bought them first? Where did the earring come from?"
"Master tried to help!"
"Oh, did Asra try to trade their earring for the fish? I thought his piercings closed up years ago."
Malak caws loudly in protest. Faust wiggles and bobs from her perch on Selasi's shoulder as the distant owl takes off for a different corner of the marketplace.
"Not Master's earring."
I study the golden hoop, finally catching the protective gleam in Malak's eye. "Ohh, this is Julian's, isn't it? Okay, from the top." I watch five pairs of animal eyes point back in my direction. "Portia went to get fish for Pepi, but Lucio bought them first. Asra tried to intervene, and then Julian offered an earring that he apparently owns to bargain for the fish with. Is that right?"
I almost miss the variety of nods when a thick coat of fur unexpectedly brushes across the backs of my knees. When I look down, it's right into Inanna's bright green eyes - and the torn bag of rice in her mouth. She drops it at my feet, spilling the grains across the ground and sending Malak into a flurry of indignant squawks. The wolf curls up for a nap at my heels, completely unfazed. Selasi gently sets Faust on my abandoned parchment and returns to his oven with an amused "good luck!"
"O-Okay." I drag my hand down my face and do my best to analyze the mess. "So why do the dogs smell nice, why is Faust slimy enough to smudge my ink, and why am I the one currently holding Julian's mystery hoop?"
"Squeeze the thief! Rescue the shiny! Run away fast!"
Faust bleps her tongue proudly, while Pepi takes a smug seat on the stones and the dogs begin to growl. One warning huff from the large wolf pretending to sleep behind me quietens the impending ruckus.
"And ... do I want to know about the slime and the fruity smells?"
Pepi yawns above me, slowly succumbing to the sun-warmed wall. "Beauty stall."
Faust curls herself elegantly over my story draft in an attempt to flaunt her shiny scales. "Moisturize."
"You're practically glowing, Faust. Such a beautiful girl!" Asra's trotting in my direction, a very sweaty pair of Devorak siblings close behind and a red-faced ex-count bringing up the rear. The magician scoops her up off of the table, my freshly hydrated parchment going with it, as Pepi uses the top of my head as a springboard into Portia's arms. Julian gives his judgemental raven a sheepish look before brightening at the earring in my palm.
"Did you leave us the rice trail, Faust?" Asra scritches the serpent's chin.
"Wait - rice trail? What rice trail? Is that how you knew where you were going? Where did they get - my rice!"
Inanna gives the shocked doctor a guiltily amused look, nudging the torn bag with her nose and watching the last of the grains spill onto my feet. Lucio straightens from where's been fussing over his perfumed dogs, finally catching his breath.
"Hah! Serves you right for trying to take my fish!"
Portia bristles and turns on him as Inanna slinks off to the large figure skulking in the shadows several booths away. "Your fish? That vendor and I have been friends for three years, you heard him say that I'd get first pick!"
I can't tell if Lucio is grinning or gritting his teeth. "Does it matter? I already paid for those things, they were the least smelly ones!"
"Enough!" The Countess's firm voice rings across the corner of the square, effectively halting the brewing squabble that's hijacking my writing corner. Chandra reassumes her perch on the baker's booth roof as Nadia rubs her temples in resigned frustration. "I have already paid for a year's worth of cosmetics. I have no interest in paying for your argument with a headache as well."
She heaves a tired sigh as the familiars settle in with their owners, sparing me a comforting glace. "Considering the paperless state of your table, I trust there were no writing casualties involved?"
Portia scurries over with a worried look. "Oh, I'm so glad you hadn't started yet!"
"Well ..."
"I think we did interrupt him, unfortunately." Asra's already taking a seat at my table, holding a fresh bowl of rolls in one hand and my smudged paper in the other while Faust hides guiltily in their shirt. "What's a 'ringtone'?"
Julian helps himself to the paper. "Allow me - perhaps I can shed some light on - ah!"
I've already given up hope on restoring my draft, so I don't wince nearly as badly as my friends do as a sharp, golden hand snatches my handwriting and rips it in the process. Lucio's pout deepens the further he reads. "I'm not in this."
"He's probably not finished it." Nadia holds her hand out, impervious to Lucio's begrudging surrender, and carefully offers the paper back to me. "We should leave you in peace, or you'll never meet your deadline."
Portia takes the cue and begins herding Lucio back to the docks for a fresh round of fish. Nadia gives Asra a pointed look, resulting in them stuffing the last of their roll into their mouth and rising from the cushions. They leave the last two pieces of bread for me.
"Julian," I call as he turns away, "one more question."
"Ah - yes?"
"What's the story with the earring?"
"Oh!" He flushes unexpectedly, fumbling the hoop away into his pocket. "... it, ah, it doesn't go in my ear. Adieu!"
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mageofseven · 11 months
Text
The Boys' Opinions on MC's Cat
I'm doing it!!! And the cat in question is specifically my little kitty man Beanie 🥰
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Imma write how all of the Boys react to MC bringing him as her emotional support animal (and honest, after the first school year alone, they totally need one)
Who likes him, or loves him, or really really wishes they could kick this cute little asshole out of the house hehe~
So please enjoy reading and leaning about my sweet baby boy through the Boys' eyes~
But first! His history with me:
Beanie was a stray in my neighborhood who always seemed interested in me and my dog. Whenever I'd take Elsa on a walk, Beanie would sometimes follow us and occasionally lay right in front of us on the side walk just to drive my dog crazy (my dog isn't a fan of cats, something we believe is from her own time on the streets, but more on that in her own post!)
Eventually, he started coming up to our house to ask for food so we'd feed him. I even made a small house for him on my front porch to shelter him from the rain.
Eventually, it started to get cold as winter started to come and Beanie would try to sneak into our home.
My grandma, who is allergic to cats, was unsure about letting him inside at first, but as it got colder she couldn't help being okay with the sweet boy coming in "for the winter season only".
Flash forward about 4 years later and this cat is still chilling in the house with us 🥰
Beanie's other names: Beans, Baby Boy, Beanie-baby, Cat!!!! (Whenever he scratches the couch lol), The Vicious Scoundrel Unfit For Society (whenever he brings a poor dead mouse or baby bunny to the front door)
And lastly
Lord Beanards the First hehe 🥰
•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•
Lucifer:
Oh devil, this man tried for so long to keep cats out of his house.
Cats could not truly be trained the way dogs can so he didn't want the unpredictable creatures in his house.
His brothers are chaotic enough; he didn't need this furry animal adding to it.
However, Diavolo has said this cat must be respected for legal reasons
And in truth...if any person truly needs an 'emotional support' animal (a human realm term he only now discovered), it would be the human that literally died to help his family once.
And so...he reluctantly accepts the arrogant creature into his home.
It's not always so bad; the cat sleeps more than Belphie does after all and that says a lot.
Once awake though, he is such menace.
Scratches at every couch and chair in the house
And whenever Lucifer tries lifting him up to unhook Beanie's claws from the couch, the cat makes a screeching sound more like a child opera star than an actual animal and jumps from his hands.
Despite his frustration with the cat, Beanie never seemed scared of the pride demon...
But made it his mission to see just how much he could get away with this new man.
Lucifer hides in his office more than ever
And even when his door is locked, some how the feline still finds a way inside.
How does he even do that??
(He slipped passed Luce when he stepped out to get coffee. Beanie is a little freaking ninja hehe)
Over all, does not like Beanie and prefers the cat to be outside.
Mammon:
Mammon is desperate for Beanie to like him.
But this dude is too loud for the cat's liking.
Plus, the greed demon has a little difficulty reading the cat's body language
And in result, has gotten bit and scratched many times.
Says he doesn't care about that 'stupid furball'
But in truth, this man's feelings are just hurt
And he keeps trying to get Beanie's approval regardless.
Despite all of this, Mammon is probably the brother most worried about Beanie going outside.
I mean yeah, the Devildom has their own stray cats, but they grew up here; those furballs were more aware of the dangers here and knew where not to wander to for the most part.
But the cat grew up a stray in the Human realm and refused to be confined so even if he tried to keep Beanie in, the sneaky boy still manages to slip out
And he's still okay so that's good at least.
Overall, likes the cat but struggles to bond with him.
Leviathan:
Nononononononono!!!!
Out of the room!! Go!! Shoo!
Beanie is always sneaking into his room and he hates it.
This cat jumps onto the shelves, will look Levi straight in his eyes as he gently paws at the figurines till they slid off the shelf.
And that wasn't even the worst offense!!!!
Beanie would paw at the glass tank, wanting to get to Henry the fish so badly!
Has literally tossed the cat out of his room
Just to sulk directly after, worried that he was too rough with Beanie.
You weren't! It's okay, Levi~
Overall, finds Beanie to be a nuisance, even if he is cute.
Satan:
Worships this cat harder than the Ancient Egyptians did.
Loves Beanie to death and enjoys the chaos he causes.
Probably the brother Beanie bonds with the most.
This man will literally put his book down or get out of bed in the middle of the night just to give this cat the attention he screams for at night.
Practically dies from happiness every time Beanie headbutts him.
Is very hurt that Beanie won't let him carry him, but respects the cat's boundaries.
Will even help MC makes sure the cat gets the meds for his breathing issues every day.
Poor Beanie sounds like he's choking without them and it scares the blonde 😥
Overall, loves Beanie to death, even outside of the cat annoying Lucifer~
Asmodeus:
Oh my devil!! He's too precious!!!
Takes daily pictures of Beanie to post online
And doesn't miss a single day without kissing the cat's head.
Finds the shedding Beanie does to be a bit annoying and dislikes when he uses his capped lipstick as a rolly toy
But overall, thinks Beanie is an adorable little addition to the family!
However, this man is scared of cat claws so he prefers Beanie not to sit on his lap or anything like that.
Along with Satan and MC, he is one of the brothers that spends time brushing the cat to limit the shedding
And luckily, Beanie finds being brushed more or less pleasant so this becomes the two's bonding time.
Overall, loves the cat but hates his claws.
Beelzebub:
Is neither a cat or dog person, but thinks both animals can be very sweet.
Doesn't have a lot to do with Beanie unless the cat jumps to sit next to him and then he'll scratch under his chin, just as the good boy likes.
Beel knows how to pet Beanie so good that the cat starts drooling and gives him love nips, which the gluttony demon doesn't mind.
This has Satan so jealous lol
Other than that, will try to help with Beanie's meals
And discovered that cat food isn't half bad 😅🤭
He also is usually the first person to let Beanie out when he's screaming at the front door in his demanding baby voice 💕
Overall, likes the cat pretty well, but never tries crowding the little guy like Satan, Asmo, and Mammon.
Belphegor:
Eh he's cute, I guess.
What? What else were you expecting?
Belphie does enjoy the cat's company though.
Loves when he wakes up to find Beanie in his arms or on his chest.
Honestly, this man has been looking for a new napping buddy.
Still, he prefers to let the cat come to him.
Knows that if Beanie wants his attention, the cat will not hesitate to make it very obvious.
Easily makes Mammon and Satan jealous with how much Beanie likes him and how effortless his relationship with the cat is.
Thinks those two make things more complicated than they need to be.
Just chill out and be good to the cat and the furry dude will handle the rest; it's really not that deep guys.
Overall, likes the little guy and likes having him as a nap buddy. Also loves seeing the cat drive Lucifer and Levi crazy.
Diavolo:
Loves when little Beanie visits!
In truth, Dia is more of a dog person just like Lucifer, but is far from immune to a cat's charm.
Doesn't fully understand how to properly interact with a cat, but enjoys the process of learning
No matter how many scratches or bites he gets 😅
Beanie shows him the ropes in no time though and the two become good friends!
Diavolo is very respectful to the feline and even keeps a jar of treats in his office for the cat's visits.
Eventually buys a little cat bed and sits it on his desk in hope it will entice the furbaby into sleeping next to him as he works.
And he does!!!
The prince couldn't stop smiling the entire day~
Unfortunately (for Barb), this man finds out about catnip and covers his entire office floor with the herb
Beanie was incredibly happy; Barb however, was not 😅
MC jokes that the prince is their cat's favorite drug dealer which honestly makes Dia really happy and proud.
Barb and Luce beg this man not to repeat this joke around others, but he fails to do so.
Overall, loves Beanie incredibly so and starts a new project to help the stray cats of the Devildom.
All because of the new furry friend that constantly breaks into his office 🥰
Barbatos:
Enjoys the cat's visits very much.
Beanie makes the butler's job much more enjoyable when he follows Barb around and keeps him company.
Only tried one time to scratch the furniture and the look in Barbatos's eyes was enough for the cat to carefully unhook himself from the thousand year old fabric of the chair and slowly back away from it.
Lucifer is almost tempted to beg the butler to show him his ways hehe.
Honestly, this cat listens to Barb to a degree that even shocks MC
'Cause like I thought you loved me, you little shit hehe
The cat is often right at the butler's heels and even when Beanie walks through the butler's legs as he walks, the man never trips.
The two are weirdly in sync and it's quite impressive to see.
He is also very, very happy when he discovers that the cat took down any mice or rats.
Beanie is a true kindred spirit indeed 🤭
Though he's not a fan of using his future vision, he occasionally does so he can look out for the cat and make sure he doesn't stray anywhere dangerous.
Overall, likes Beanie and does his part to make sure Baby Boy stays safe 🥰
Solomon:
Appreciates the little man and often finds him out on his nightly strolls
Sometimes he finds the poor cat in a fight with one of the Devildom's strays and gently separates them with his magick.
Has healed little bite marks on Beanie's ears so MC won't worry.
Soli is also the one who quietly cleans up the 'gifts' Beanie leaves in front of House of Lamentation so poor Asmo won't be upset in the morning.
Over all is good with the cat, but doesn't really interact or intervene unless Beanie or one of the HoL members needs him too.
Simeon & Luke:
Simeon finds the cat very sweet and enjoys watching Beanie sleep or wander around.
Luke's eyes went wide the moment he saw the black cat in HoL, but he made no move to touch or interact with him at first.
It takes a while for the child ease himself towards the rather aloof cat.
Eventually when Beanie is asleep on the couch, Luke quietly reached out and petted his fur.
He's so soft!
The little boy was so happy
Till Beanie woke up and swatted his hand away, causing a scratch on the little angel's hand.
It wasn't bleeding though and the act wasn't out of aggression; it was Beanie's way of giving a polite warning.
Simeon comforts the little boy (who is trying so hard to pretend his feelings weren't hurt, but his guardian knew better) and teaches Luke little things about a cat's body language.
Honestly, Luke learns a lot quicker than Mammon.
The child is still a bit hesitant with the cat, but thinks Beanie is still so cute.
The latter his guardian agrees with.
Simeon will sometimes buy treats for Luke to give to Beanie just to see the boy's eyes light up when the cat eats it from his hand.
Beanie is not just cute, but provides a bonding experience for the two angels.
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doppel-doodles · 13 days
Text
Watch me ramble on about Leshy, because I dont have time to doodle all of these-
The way Leshy "helps" Heket with cooking is basically she uses him as a trashcan, got any scraps? Just dumperoo it into your little bros mouth, doesn't matter if it's vegetable scraps,chunks of animal or follower meat. The little guy will happily consume anything.
Leshy is also very active during the night and prefers to take long naps during the day, but of course not in his home, naaaah homeboy is making himself comfortable in the sunniest spot there is, bonus points if there is a lot of nutritious dirt for him to lay in.
Building on that one, ever since his crown was taken he actually doesn't just do this because its nice but because he NEEDS sunlight and nutrients from the ground or else he'll get sick, normal food won't cut it in healthily sustaining him for long periods of time.
And of course he needs lots of water, him and Kallamar will often collect it together, though let’s be honest he carries the bulk.
Speaking of Kallamar he once caught Leshy being horribly malnourished as he was still adjusting to his mortal body, he was no longer used to the whole sun routine, and immediately Kallamar dragged him screeching and clawing tooth and nail to the nearest farm plot and proceed to bury him up to his neck in the dirt. Leshy was knocked out into a power nap almost instantly.
One can only dream of having an older brother that cares for you a delicately as Kallamar fr fr♡
Can we all spread the headcanon that if the seasons were to change Leshy's leafs would also change color and he would basically go bald in the winter?- I dunno man I just think that's such a funny idea. Also I'm not sure what idea would be better, him just being a bunch of sticks under his leafs or there being like actual flesh-
Also this in autumn:
Leshy:"It's not a phase shamura! "
Shamura:"Right you are younger brother, it is not a phase, but a season." *pats head*
And instead of getting acne berries would just start growing all over his face(for the love of the gods do not eat them-).
Out of all the Bishops he actually gets along the most with the Lamb, like you could call them friends??? even as he has no problem insulting them to their face five seconds later. Mainly because they also are pretty chaotic, which he respects. Leshy would even go as far as claim they could've been a worthy acolyte or even a favored disciple if they hadn't been born a Lamb.
He is the most aggressive towards Narrinder, he basically takes any opportunity to mess with him or pick a fight and if there’s none he will create one himself.
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6emo6zombie6 · 5 months
Note
hii!! I was wondering if I could request a reader who is hurt with either Dutch or John? maybe from an animal attack or just getting hurt by someone who now has a scar across their face?
If not its totally okay! have a great rest of your day <3.
Thanks for requesting! I hope this is good (And not all too graphic lol)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Clawed ~ Hurt gn!reader x John/Dutch
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“Where’re you headed?” Dutch asks, his voice rough as usual as he walks up behind you.
You pay him little mind, humming in his direction as you fasten your horse’s saddle, ensuring none of the straps are too tight.
“Huntin’?” He asks again, now walking up beside you to lean against the hitching post that your horse, Runar,  is hitched to. He’d clearly referred to the bow on your horse.
“Yeah,” You breathe, nodding as you glance at him. “Pearson mentioned we were out of meat, so I figured a little huntin’ trip wouldn’t hurt.”
“You’re not takin’ Charles?”
“No,” You shake your head. “He taught me enough, I’m all set to go on my own.”
“hm,” Dutch chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”  
You know he’s worried about you—he has been ever since he pulled you out of your situation and took you refuge in his camp. You’d been taken by a different gang, beaten up, and starved for their sick sense of entertainment.  
You tut at Dutch, unhitching your horse and clumsily climbing up on the saddle.
“You know,” He watches you. “You ‘oughta get a smaller horse. You can barely get up on this one.”
You roll your eyes, adjusting your position. “But I like Runar, he’s calm and loyal.”
“I’m just jokin’, I’m just jokin’.” Dutch chuckles. “You be careful now,”
“I’ll be back by sundown.” You put on your hat, nodding once more at Dutch before taking off and leaving the campgrounds.
Your ride wasn’t all too long, you headed up north from Strawberry. Charles had taken you there twice, and both times it had been crawling with deer and some smaller animals. You decided to stall your horse in the trees, grabbing your bow and carefully making your way through the woods. You peered up into the tree to see if there were any squirrels, though you couldn’t find any.
You wandered around for a while, missing tons of shots on little animals. It was clear you weren’t experienced enough to successfully get an arrow in any rodents. You got bored after that long while, making your way back to your horse and riding it through more of the trees.
You rode through the woods and out of the trees, and you were quickly met with an open field. You smiled upon noticing a group of deer, grazing peacefully. You felt bad about killing the animals at first, but you quickly concluded that hunting meant life or death.
“Slow up, boy,” You murmur to your horse, getting him to stop right where the trees ended. You get off of him and draw your bow together with a few arrows.
“Stay here,” You command, patting your horse on the shoulder. Slowly, you gain on the deer, focusing on them as you prepare to shoot your bow. You pick a spot slightly right from the deer, crouching in the grass as you lift your bow, drawing the string and aiming at the fattest of the group. You internally cheered, thinking of how proud Charles would be if he heard you hunted your own deer for the first time.
Suddenly, you heard Runar neigh loudly, his high-pitched screech alarming both you and the deer. Your head whips around, scanning the edge of the forest.
“Runar!” You yell out, seeing him gallop off into the foliage. “Damn that horse,” You grunt, looking the other way again, watching all the deer scurry away. You look at your bow, then at the sun that is starting to set. You sigh, making your way south toward Valentine in the hopes of catching a stagecoach there.
Only a minute had gone by, and you were nowhere near the edge of the field when you heard a blood-curdling growl.
Cougar.
Now you knew what had spooked Runar.
You turned around swiftly, only to be met with a large, female cougar charging toward you. You knew she was out for blood—seeing the hungry look in her eyes. You froze for a second, then whipped around and started sprinting, running as fast as you could.
Once you looked around to check where the cougar was, she had already jumped at you. You shrieked as she pummeled you to the ground, her nails digging into your hip and waist. Your heart raced as your mind went blank, only concerned with staying alive. The large cat nipped and scratched at you, one of her paws dashing across your face as you struggled under her impressive stature.
You were half aware when your hand shakily reached to your belt, your hands gripping your knife to bring it up and plunge it into the animal’s heart. She struggled a little longer before collapsing, her blood spilling all over your chest. You gasped for air as you pushed her off, her body lying limp in the grass.
You got up, your body trembling from all the adrenaline in your blood. You felt a faint stab in your abdomen, as well as the taste of copper in your mouth. As you stumbled forward, you looked down, your shirt ripped to shreds and blood seeping from two large gashes.
“Oh, no,” You breathed, the shock washing away, making you feel the painful sting from your wounds. You frantically press your hand up to the gash, breathing heavily as you start to panic. It all went by so quickly, your blood kept dripping as you walked, hoping to make it to civilization before anything else went down.
Alas, you never made it out of the field, collapsing halfway through as your vision started to flicker. You saw flashes and stars, then everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Don’t die on me, now,” You heard in an echo. The raspy voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it. Your eyes opened slightly to see the stars in the pitch black sky, then when you looked to the right, a dark-haired man, his face illuminated by a lantern on the ground next to him. You finally recognized the face.
John.
“John?”
John exhaled, an expression of relief washing over his face. “What-“ He grunted. “what were you thinking? Out here on your own. You’re lucky I found you.”
He seemed to be only wearing his jacket, his shirt currently wrapped around your wounds.
“I’m sorry,” You breathe, wincing at the pain of your wounds. “How—how’d you find me?”
“That horse of yours, he ran back to camp.” John shoveled his arms under you, lifting you up while you groaned in pain. “I followed his tracks back here.”
“You kill that cougar?” He looked around at the animal’s carcass.
“yeah—” You keep moaning out in pain as John places you on the back of his horse, getting on himself. You hold on to his jacket weakly, the world spinning around you.
“Dutch is worried sick about you, you know?” John shook his head, speeding through the woods. He grunted, frustrated by your lack of planning.
“God—i—,” He stammered. He seemed almost angry at you. “You could’ve died!”
“But I didn’t,” You murmur. John ignores you, riding back to camp with haste.
He helps you off his horse once you’re there. Charles, Dutch, Susan, and Arthur crowd around you, all with worried faces as you stumble along to your tent. The rest of the gang members watch from all over the camp.
“What—” Dutch walks up behind you on one side, Charles on the other side to help you walk. “What happened? My dear child,” His thick eyebrows knit together in worry as he successfully helps you lay down on your cot. He stands over you as he inspects you, your torn clothes, the gash on your face, all the blood.
Before you can answer, Miss Grimshaw is already in your tent, bandages in hand.
“I’ll handle it,” Dutch sternly says, taking the supplies and ushering the woman out of the tent. You watch, confused as he closes up the front flaps and lights a lantern in the corner of your tent. Something in his expression hints that he feels guilty.
“I—” You grunt. “I almost had a deer, all on my own…” You murmur, Dutch looks at you, still confused. “A cougar attacked me after Runar ran off.”
“I was a fool to let you go alone,” He sighs, bending down to take John’s shirt off of your wounds. You grunt at him peeling the fabric away, the cold air stinging. He looks at the gashes on your abdomen and waist, pained at the sight of his loved ones hurting.
“God,” He took a long look at your face, inspecting the ragged gash that ran from your cheek to your forehead. “Hosea’s gonna have to stitch that up,” He murmured, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger affectionately. “That damn animal, ‘went and tore up your beautiful face…”
You look away, feeling guilty about bringing Dutch this much distress. he gently caresses your cheek, then kneels by your cot and grabs the roll of bandage.
“Sit up for me, darling,”
You struggle to sit up, grunting and moaning in pain as you move slowly. The waistband of your pants digs into the gashes on your skin, so you slide your suspenders off of your shoulders and roll your pants down. Dutch pushes up what’s left of your shirt and begins carefully bandaging up your wounds.
You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, feeling the pressure of the fabric on your stinging skin. You’ve never seen Dutch this precise and careful, let alone his visible worry as he tends to your wounds. You look down at the mess, part of your pants had torn up and lots of blood had seeped into your clothes. Dutch sighs, constantly looking up at you to make sure you’re not in too much pain.
After a few minutes, he’s done bandaging you up. He gets up and takes another look at your face before silently walking out of the tent. You watch him with confusion, eventually forcing yourself up and out of the tent to see what he is doing.  
You look across the camp to see him filling a bowl of stew, he looks concerned once he notices you out of your tent. You ignore his gaze and walk over to the main campfire. John stares at you silently, and Reverend looks at you with remorse.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” John asks, his concern hidden by a mask of frustration. You hum at him, sitting down against a log with a groan.
Dutch walks over, shaking his head as he sees you by the campfire. The rest had already gone silent.
“Here,” He murmurs, handing you a plate of hot stew. You smile up at him and take the plate. “I want you to rest after you’re done eating, understood?”
“Okay…” You murmur, looking up at him as he pats your head quickly before walking off to his tent. The conversation sparks up again around the campfire after that. You watch John as he gets up and walks away, disappearing behind Pearson’s wagon. He comes back a minute later with a bottle of whiskey, not making any eye contact as he puts it down beside you.
“Should help with the—with the pain.” He murmurs, sitting back on the crate that he had previously been sitting on. You smile softly in his direction, taking the bottle in hand and gulping at it.
“Heh, you and Marston are matching,” Bill barks out a laugh as he walks by, referring to your bloodied and scarred face.
You and John mutter a synchronized “Shut up.” At the man.
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savventeen · 1 year
Text
to build a home
pairing: jihoon x gn!reader rating: T (for swearing) wc: 3.7k summary: on the train ride back to meet jihoon's parents in person for the first time, you realize you don't really know what it's like to have a childhood home — at least, not in the sense that most people seem to have. but it's okay, because you've found a home in jihoon instead. warnings: talks about divorce (reader's parents) tags: fluff, this is so sappy guys, kind of emotional hurt/comfort, soonhoon best frienemies (they’re ride or die dw their friendship is just based on mutual teasing lol), vaguely implied asexual reader, a truly excessive amount of handholding, i really made jihoon into a hand-holding fiend and i'm Not Sorry a/n: this might be one of the most self-indulgent things i've ever written since reader's experiences are 100% based off of my own lmao. also i can't believe i wrote almost 4k of them just talking on a train, like??? wow. also also, i listened to sleeping at last's cover of i'm gonna be (500 miles) on repeat while writing so i recommend giving it a listen for the Vibes haha
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Jihoon was nervous.
Not in a bad way, of course. But he was taking you back home to stay with his parents for the next four days and they would be meeting you in person for the first time and he was nervous.
Soonyoung, the bastard, could definitely tell and had made it his mission to embarrass the hell out of him until the last possible second.
It was only supposed to be Seungcheol and Minghao dropping the two of you off at the train station, but Soonyoung had physically crammed himself into the backseat between you and Jihoon and refused to let go of either of you until you’d reached the train station. Even then, you had to physically pry him off of Jihoon and promise to tell Jihoon’s parents that Soonyoung loved them and missed them and—
“—make sure to take lots of pictures of all his cringey old anime posters!”
Soonyoung’s insistence is only diminished by the effort he’s exerting not to be forcefully dragged back into the car by a disgruntled Minghao. Jihoon knows Soonyoung’s being even more of a handful for his sake, and Jihoon is both filled with love and also the desire to strangle his best friend with his bare hands.
Minghao is able to get him mostly back in the car, Seungcheol watching on with a slightly fond but mostly concerned smile, but before they can get the door closed, Soonyoung claws his way back to the doorframe to tell you, “Also, his mom keeps all of his baby pictures in a bunch of photo books by the—”
“And that’s enough from you,” Jihoon interrupts, forcefully shoving Soonyoung back into the car by the face, Soonyoung screeching with poorly disguised glee, and slams the car door shut.
Jihoon waves at Seungcheol who he can see laughing through the glass as he pulls away from the curb, leaving the two of you standing with your suitcases.
He hears you giggling, and turns around to face you with a sigh. “Ignore him.”
You give a thoughtful hum, drawing it out as you grab the handle of your suitcase and wait for Jihoon to grab his and start walking with you through the station.
“No, I don’t think I will,” you finally decide, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.
Jihoon groans, tilting his head back as if to ask the universe why me?
“Why,” you continue, “embarrassed about your Nami posters?” 
Like Soonyoung, Jihoon knows you’re just teasing, and he falls into your easy banter with a smile threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth.
He glares at you half-heartedly. “It’s poster, singular. And no, I’m not embarrassed,” he adds as you both make your way across the platform and into the closest empty train car (the only benefit of leaving at the ass-crack of dawn). “Why would I ever be embarrassed about Nami? She’s badass.” He grunts as he stands on his toes and lifts his luggage to store on the overhead rack and then reaches out to take yours as well. “Plus, you’re one to talk, with your weird shrimp god poster—“
And this argument is familiar, too. He can’t help but smirk as you roll your eyes in exasperation and slide into the seat next to the window.
“It’s shrimp heaven,” you exclaim, “we’ve been over this.”
Jihoon just shakes his head, and he knows he sounds more than a little besotted when he says, “You listen to the weirdest shit.”
You give him a Look that manages to be both deadpan and undeniably fond, and no one except a few untitled projects saved on his external hard drive knows exactly how much he adores that particular look. “I am aware, yes, thank you.”
While this is the first time the two of you are traveling back to where Jihoon grew up, it is not the first time the two of you have traveled together. There’s a well-worn ease to the way your shoulders draw together like magnets, Jihoon offering up one of his earbuds as he balances his iPad across your joined knees.
It had scared him, the first time he felt himself leaning into your presence without a second thought — as easy and unthinkingly familiar as pulling on his favorite hoodie when he’s cold or the sound of his keys clinking against the countertop every night when he gets home. He’d never been one to seek out physical affection before, not unless he was desperate. But now he can’t help but feel like a flower seeking out the sun whenever he’s with you.
He leans his head against yours as he asks, “Want to watch some Bonobono?”
“Yeah,” you reply with a happy hum.
Jihoon presses play without further ado, and the two of you settle in for the next few hours.
You get through a few episodes quickly before taking a quick snack break, and it’s only a few minutes into the next episode that Jihoon notices you aren’t really paying attention. He turns his head where it's resting on your shoulder to get a better look at your profile, but he’s not able to see much since you have your own head turned to look out the window.
He finishes the episode and gets halfway through the next one, glancing over at you every few minutes, before deciding it’s time for him to check in.
Starting conversations is still not one of his strong suits, but he’s discovered interesting ways to wiggle himself into them, mainly by tricking you into getting the ball rolling for him. It’s in these moments that he channels his inner Soonyoung (he is taking this train of thought to his grave, mind you) and asks himself “How would cat-me ask for attention in this moment?” (Again, taking this train of thought to the fucking grave.)
So Jihoon leans away from you just enough for him to be able to turn slightly in his seat and gently plonk his head against your shoulder. When he gets no reaction, he does it again. And again, before doing it one more time as your turn to look at him with an amused smile. “Hi? You having fun, there?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the “p”. “The funnest.”
You snort and shake your head at him. “Okay, babe.” You turn your attention back out the window and Jihoon frowns.
With a quiet huff, he plonks his head on your shoulder once again, pushing in with his forehead and rubbing it back and forth against your sweater.
You start giggling — and god, it’s still one of his favorite sounds, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing it — and you turn to look at him again with a single eyebrow raised. “Yes, Jihoonie?”
He moves so his temple is resting on your shoulder and he can look at you properly. “You okay?” he asks, lighthearted and warm. “You’ve been staring out the window for a while, missed the last couple of episodes.”
You blink, a little surprised, and look down at the iPad still balanced between the two of you. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” You give him a smile and shrug the shoulder he’s leaning on. “Just thinking.”
The automatic retort of “oh, dangerous” is on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back with a small frown. He’s never liked when you apologize unnecessarily, but he knows it’s something you’ve been working on, so he decides not to bring attention to it this time.
“What about?” he asks instead.
You’ve turned your attention back to Bonobono at this point, and you respond with a distracted “Hm?”
Jihoon pokes your temple with one finger. “What’re you thinking about?”
“Oh.” You look at him, considering, and then you huff out a short laugh as you reach over to pause the video. “You actually,” you tell him, tucking the iPad into your lap as you turn in your seat to face him fully.
That was not what Jihoon was expecting. “Me?”
“Yep,” you say, popping the “p” just like he did earlier. “Your bedroom, more specifically.”
That was definitely not what Jihoon was expecting. Both of his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “My bedroom…” he trails off, voice dry and seeming to ask, are you really implying what I think you’re implying?
Your expression morphs into one of disgust so quickly Jihoon barks out a startled laugh. “Ew, no, don’t look at me like that, that’s not what I meant.”
Jihoon lets out a few of his own giggles as he asks, “What did you mean, then?”
He almost coos at the adorable way you pout as you cross your arms in faux anger. “Ugh, no I’m not telling you anymore if you’re just gonna tease me.”
“Aw come on,” he cajoles, reaching out to pry your crossed arms apart. “I only tease those who deserve it.”
You roll your eyes even as you let him pull your hands into his own. “Tell that to Soonyoung.”
“Are you kidding? He deserves it just for existing.”
You lift one of your conjoined hands to awkwardly point at him. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.”
Jihoon narrows his eyes. “Good. He needs the reminder.”
You fold over as you snort, falling into Jihoon’s space for a moment before you straighten back up with a beaming smile. “You’re such a terrible friend, Lee Jihoon.”
Closing his eyes, he nods solemnly. “I am aware of this, yes. It is my curse.”
“Oh my god,” you laugh, making him smack himself in the shoulder with your still joined hands. “You can be such a dramatic little shit sometimes.” There’s a glint in your eyes that tells Jihoon you’re about to say something purely because you know it’ll rile him up, and he’s proven right when the next words out of your mouth are, “Soonyoung must be rubbing off on you.”
Jihoon’s jaw drops in offended horror. “You’d better take that back right now, I swear to god, y/n—” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he untangles your fingers and digs them mercilessly into your sides.
You squeal at the onslaught and try your best to deflect, but Jihoon’s relentless and you’ve always been extremely ticklish, so it’s only a few moments later that you’re choking out through strained laughter, “Yield! Yield! Fuck, I yield, you absolute ass!”
Jihoon glares at you as he stops and generously lets you trap his fingers in your hold. “Take it back.”
“Yes, I take it back, geez,” you pant. He’s pretty sure he hears you follow it up with a near silent “Why are both of you so insane?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What was that?” He wiggles his fingers pointedly.
“Nothing,” you say quickly, glaring at him half-heartedly before rolling your eyes. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Good,” he smirks, wiggling his fingers again, but this time so he can lace them once again with yours. He brings each of your hands up to his face and kisses your knuckles before bringing them back down to his lap and letting himself drink you in.
You’re looking at him with something teetering the edge between incredulous and fond and over-the-moon, and Jihoon thinks he probably looks like a smitten fool just based on the way his cheeks ache and his ears feel like they’re on fire.
He’s come to love moments like these, where the both of you take a moment to just… take each other in — to simply exist in each other’s presence and soak it all in like sponges. And he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to put into words exactly what it feels like to look and be looked at like this. To see and be seen.
Jihoon doesn’t try to find the words this time, just lets himself bask in your glow with a soft smile.
After a few moments, he brings himself to break the ambient quiet of the train. “Hey,” he murmurs.
Your response is as soft and quiet as the smile you tuck into the corner of your mouth. “Hi.”
He stares at you for another moment before saying, “You never ended up telling me, y’know.”
“Telling you what?”
“What you were thinking about earlier.” He starts idly rubbing his thumbs across the skin of your hands, tracing gentle arcs with the pads of his thumbs.
“Oh.” You scrunch up your face a little before smoothing it out with a small shrug. “Eh, it wasn’t anything important.”
“Hmm.” Something tells him it probably is something important — to you, at least. And even if it isn’t, he still wants to know. “Tell me anyway?”
You tilt your head and look at him with a confused sort of amused smile. “Why do you wanna know so bad?”
Because I’m highkey obsessed with you and always want to learn more about you and how you think, is what he doesn’t say. At least, not out loud and not right now. He knows it’d probably fluster you and he doesn’t want to distract you from answering any more than he already has. (And maybe he’s still struggling with saying his sappy thoughts directly to your face instead of hoarding them in various notebooks, but that’s a problem for future Jihoon to work through.)
“Just curious,” he murmurs with a shrug. “And we still have a couple of hours left on the train.”
You stare at him for a moment like you don’t quite believe him and are trying to find the lie somewhere on his face. But eventually you mutter, “Okay.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose. “Well,” you start, after a moment of collecting your thoughts. “I said I was thinking about your bedroom, right?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay, so.” You purse your lips as you tighten your hold on Jihoon’s fingers, just for a moment, before loosening your grip with a quiet exhale. “I was mostly just trying to imagine what that’s like.”
Jihoon blinks at you. “...What having a bedroom is like?” His tone comes across more deadpan than he means, confusion flattening his question into more of a statement.
“No, no,” you shake your head. “What having a childhood bedroom is like.”
Jihoon blinks again, furrowing his brows. “...I don’t understand.”
“God, I’m not explaining this right,” you mutter, chewing on your lip in obvious thought. “Okay, so like… You know how in movies and books and stuff, a lot of times there’s this— trope, I guess, where a character goes back home and stays in their childhood bedroom and it’s like a glimpse into their past? A lot of times for comedic reasons?”
Jihoon slowly nods his head. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, well.” You give a self-conscious little half-shrug that makes Jihoon’s chest hurt for some reason. “I was wondering what that’s like. Like…” You trail off for a moment, gaze drifting off to the side and focusing on the middle-distance. Jihoon forces himself to wait patiently as you try to find the words you need to explain, his thumbs continuing their silent metronome across your skin.
“What— what’s it like to have lived your entire childhood in the same house?” you start, gaze still locked somewhere off to the side. “To have the same four walls watch you go from toddler to kid to preteen to moody teenager and then reluctant adult? And to know those same walls are still watching you grow up.” You give a wistful little sigh and focus back on Jihoon with a crooked smile. “I’m trying to imagine what that’s like. Hadn’t realized how much of a foreign concept it was to me until I really started thinking about it,” you finish with a small huff.
During your whole little spiel, you hadn’t sounded sad or bitter or anything other than genuinely curious, but it still pokes at that little ache in Jihoon’s heart. He knows your parents divorced when you were young, and there’s a part of him that wishes you could have had the perfect childhood he knows doesn’t actually exist. He also knows you’re not one to really talk about yourself or your past, so he’s grateful for the vulnerability you’re sharing with him in this moment. Softly, he encourages you to share more with him. “You went back and forth between your parents a lot, right?”
“Oh, god yeah,” you laugh. “And not only that, but my mom could never stay in one place either. Growing up, I think my dad only moved like… four times? But my mom moved… uh.” Your brows furrow deeply for a moment. “Hang on, I need to think this out.”
Jihoon almost whines when you detangle your fingers from his, but manages to turn it into a pretty convincing cough. (It’s actually not at all convincing, but luckily you’re too preoccupied to properly clown him for it.) He watches you mutter to yourself with a small pout and then he looks back down at your hands like he can make them hold his if he just stares hard enough. Your fingers extend one by one as you count, and his pout falls away as one fist and then the other blooms fully. And then one fist closes again, leaving a single finger standing.
“So… eleven? Eleven times.”
He’d known you’d moved at least a few times as a kid, but… “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
Gently, he reaches out to hold your hands again. Squeezes. “And how often did you go back and forth?”
“Oh, god. That was a mess, too.” You’re laughing, but that ache in his chest keeps spreading, digging deeper. “We had different schedules that would change like— every few months. We did three days on, three days off, alternating sundays; we did two days on, two days off, with alternating weekends; at one point we even did every other weekday with alternating weekends… it was insane. Looking back, it seems even more insane.”
“Jesus.” He can’t even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like — almost constantly being on the move. Especially as a kid. “How old were you when they split again?”
“Five.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” You sigh, long and gusty. It doesn’t sound sad, at least, just tired. Maybe a little bit like release. Then you send a small, amused smile in his direction. “So you can kinda see why the whole “childhood bedroom” thing is such a foreign concept to me, right?”
He can see why. And it aches. “Yeah,” he breathes.
Some of that ache must show on his face because you gently scold him, “Hey, don’t look like that.” You untangle your fingers once again to cup both of his cheeks, thumbs pressing into the corners of his mouth and smoothing out his unconscious frown.
You look at him, soft and warm and so full of love Jihoon’s breath catches in his chest. And then you adjust your grip so you’re pinching his cheeks, and you wiggle his face a little bit. “This wasn’t supposed to be a sad thing, Hoonie. Just a “we had vastly different experiences” kind of thing.” You stop pinching his cheeks and go back to simply holding his face between your palms. “Like, I know it helped me understand the concept of “home is where the heart is,” yanno?”
And, oh. Oh, Jihoon is so very head-over-heels in love with you. He can feel that love pooling and swelling inside him, curling up between his ribs and tickling the tips of his fingers as reaches up to cover your hands with his.
“Hmm.” His mouth moves before his brain can catch up. “And where is your heart, y/n?” he breathes.
For one infinite moment suspended in time, you and Jihoon are the only two people to exist. The world around him disappears as your eyes bore into his, and Jihoon gets to watch something in them soften, melt — pool into something that looks a lot like love as you turn your hands to let go of his cheeks and hold his fingers instead.
You bring his hands to hover in front of his face, and you roll your lips between your teeth like you’re trying to hold back a smile. What you’re trying to say finally clicks in Jihoon’s mind when you glance down at his hands and then back up at him with a raised eyebrow.
All of the blood in his body rushes directly to his face and ears so quickly that Jihoon thinks he might burst into flames.
 “Nooooooooo,” he whines, hiding his blazing blush behind your entwined hands and ignoring the way you’re outright laughing at him now. He lowers your hands just enough so that he can glare at you from over the tops of your knuckles. “How are you able to say the cheesiest things without actually saying anything? I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit,” you giggle, like the absolutely adorable little shit you are.
Jihoon growls in frustrated adoration before licking the back of your hands in retaliation.
You screech and try to yank your hands back, but he’s the stronger one between the two of you and he refuses to let go. “Lee Jihoon, you animal, what is wrong with you?!”
“Vengence,” is all he mutters.
You splutter. “Vengence for what?”
He continues to half-heartedly glare at you as he brings your hands down and presses them to the left side of his chest. Vaguely, he wonders if you can feel the way his heart is pounding against his ribs. “For stealing my heart,” he pouts.
The sound that comes out of your mouth reminds him of a dying seal, and that’s how Jihoon knows it’s over for him — because he’s never heard a more endearing sound in his entire life and he thinks that maybe he’d do anything to hear it over and over again.
You continue to tease each other back and forth, your love for each other a steady undertow, and Jihoon realizes that while they may be heading back to the house he grew up in, it’s not home in the same sense any more.
Not when he looks at you and his heart sings a steady home, home, home inside his chest.
The thought doesn’t scare him nearly as much as he thinks it should.
Home, home, home.
He likes the sound of that.
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