#Prompt 31

[writing-promptsss]

Prompt #31

"Why do we have to do this again?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Right..."

#writers #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writing prompt #writing prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration #writing #writerscommunity #writersociety #writerscorner #writer things #writeblr community #story prompt #story prompts #story inspo #story ideas #story inspiration #prompt #prompts #dialogue prompt #creative writing #creative writing prompt #creative writing inspo #creative writing ideas #original prompt #daily prompt #dailyprompt #daily writing prompt #prompt 31

[my-lovely-writing]

(Note: as always, please check the tw tags before clicking read more. Also, if formatting isn't the same for every post, I'm experimenting, but it should be relatively the same.)

"I've always held fast to the belief that we're reborn. That we live in the world we created." The hero circled the villain, dragging their nails across the dining table with a sharp screech. "You better pray I'm not right, [villain], because the only thing you've ever created is massacre."

The villain paused, fork and knife hovering over their steak as they chanced a glance at a nearby booth of curious onlookers. They turned back to the hero. "Sit down. You're drawing attention to yourself, to us."

"And why should I?"

"I just said, you idiot. Are you going to eat that or what?" The villain sat down their fork and reached for the hero's salad, who smacked away the villain's hand, glaring.

"It's mine."

"Then sit," the villain growled, careful to keep their voice quiet.

The hero rose taller. "Not with you."

At the commotion, a few hushed murmurs rippled through the room. The villain exhaled through their nose. Their voice was a whisper, but it dripped anger: "I swear to whatever almighty being you believe in—are you here only to make a fool of me?" They shoved the knife into their steak. Possibly a threat.

"No," the hero said, a bit more quietly. Their jaw clenched.

The villain narrowed their eyes and stared at them for a long, silent moment. Their next bite felt hard to swallow. "Then why, [hero]?"

The hero shook their head, as if that was an answer. Why would they, of all people, accept the invitation, much less show up? The question left them reeling just as much as the villain.

Perhaps it was the idiocy of the moment. Of spitting out blood and shaking on their knees, their body so wracked with pain that the pouring rain felt like a thousand shards of glass embedding into their skin and hearing the villain ask, not unkindly, "How does dinner on Monday sound? Olive Garden at midnight?" Or maybe it was the comfort of somehow waking up the next morning, safe in their bed, a bottle of painkillers tucked beneath their pillow.

The hero frowned. Maybe it was the creepiness of the villain knowing where they live. At least there was nobody else they could hurt with that, but still.

"What's that look?" the villain asked.

The hero blinked and snapped back to reality. "You know my house, and that's creepy."

"Your house—that's what I was going to discuss, if you would ever sit down." The villain pointed a sharp finger at the chair.

Their house? That was worth all this? The hero crinkled their nose. For a moment, they gauged the villain—they looked sincere enough, slightly less ready to murder. And they did pay for the food. But on the other hand, the villain had caused so much pain and suffering, all for a reason the hero couldn't name. They struggled with themselves. The villain waited patiently for a few moments, before shooting them another scathing look. The hero sat down.

"I know what you're thinking," said the villain. "Why is this evil man/lady inviting me out to dinner? Why do they want to talk about my house?" They nodded towards the salad. "Eat that—I know you're starving. And the truth is, I don't really want to talk about your house, that was an error of phrasing on my part. I want to talk about your home life."

The hero's frown deepened. They were starving, but how did the villain know that? The villain seemed to pause and wait for the hero to follow the command, and curiosity got the better of them, so they did. An acidic taste filled their mouth—tomatoes. The hero would have spit it out if they weren't so hungry.

"I've noticed that you always show up to stop me, no matter when I decide to blow up the next building." The villain arched an eyebrow. "Getting enough sleep? You're getting weaker."

"I don't see how any of that is your business."

"I'm not much of a villain if my arch-nemesis can't take a hit, now am I?"

So that's why they asked: villainous pride. The hero snorted. Of course.

"Something funny, [hero]?"

"Hilarious, actually."

The villain's lips quirked into something like a smirk but not quite, at that, deep green eyes slowly roaming up their face. The hero felt, distinctly, like the villain could see every microscopic muscle and twitch like a one-way mirror to the heart beneath their skin, all with the poise of a cat. No need to bloody their claws ripping out their ribcage, for that.

"You're adorably misguided, [hero]. I mean, veganism? Really?" The villain chuckled. How terribly casual they were, signaling the waitress over in the midst of this. "Starving your body of nutrients and being a hero don't go together well."

"What do you want?" the hero demanded. They were getting sick of this one-sided game. They were so infuriated they barely noticed the clacking of the waitress's heels as they suddenly appeared beside them—if they had, the hero would have wondered why they were so quick, if the waitress knew the villain was [villain]—but they didn't.

The villain took their sweet time in answering the hero, first telling the waitress to bring [hero] crackers for their salad—crackers, of all things to interrupt them for!—and then went even further in annoying the hero by taking long, slow bite of their steak before responding with a lithe smile, "For you to eat your dinner."

"Bullshit. You want something more than that."

The smile never left the villain's face even as they turned their attention to the returning waitress, going so far as to take the crackers and crush them into [hero's] salad themself. [Hero] never said they wanted them, but they politely thanked the waitress anyway, even as they seethed at the fact the waitress hadn't double checked with the hero themself. Children are usually provided that courtesy.

"So, what's your favorite color?" the villain asked.

The hero was caught off-guard. "Excuse me?"

"Your favorite color. What is it?"

And, perhaps in defiance of such inanity, the hero jammed a bite of their salad into their mouth. And then another and then another and then another until the conversation had long since died. They kept expecting [villain] to reiterate their question or order them to answer, but the villain didn't seem to mind at all, and instead merely turned back to their steak.

When their bowl was finished, the hero took the liberty of gritting out an insult at the villain who, despite everything logical and sane that would contend otherwise if there was anything logical and sane about them, seemed to be expectantly awaiting their answer still. "You have no taste. You said this restaurant is the best in town, but the crackers here taste fucking stale."

"Huh." The villain's hand slid underneath their chin, elbow resting on the table. "I've always wondered what it tastes like."

"What wh—" And then it hit them, and the hero's head was swimming with tired and dizzy and the world was a spinning blur of the villain's signature black and blue—and how horrifically funny to notice now that the restaurant was a black and blue thing. A heartbeat and [Hero] was up, stumbling away. They fell like a newborn doe.

The villain watched from their seat as the waitress caught them—no need to bloody their claws.

The hero awoke, alive, on something soft. Their body was coiled like a boom of thunder, fast and furious and inconsequential, but the hero was wise. They waited, eyes closed, for the sound of breathing, but none met their ears. They slowly peeked an eye open—no one that they could see, and they didn't feel anything around their wrists or ankles. Only after their eyes were adjusted and they were absolutely certain no one was with them did they slip out of the unfamiliar bed, testing the cold wooden floorboards beneath them before surrendering their weight. They didn't creak.

The hero's hand twitched at their side. They wanted to test if the door was locked, but they didn't put it past [villain] to wait in the hallway for that tell-tale half twist of the knob and really, they already knew the answer to that question, didn't they?

So instead they decided to search the room on the off-chance that the villain had accidentally left anything useful—and froze as they spotted a neatly folded up note on the nightstand, a small circular mirror beside it. They—the hero—was dressed in a stunning dress/tuxedo of black and blue. Faint taste of bile of their tongue and hands trembling, the hero unfolded the note.

"Good morning, [hero]. Since you didn't tell me your favorite color, I thought about it for a while and I decided that you'd look amazing in mine. I'll be home at five, okay? :D"

#writing #writing prompt #prompt #hero #villain #villain caretaker? #villain whumper? #whump #inspiration #drabble/prompt tbh #sorry guys I write long things normally #if my writing is ever a normal length it's been trimmed #hero x villain #villain x hero #mine #my-lovely-writing #my lovely writing #prompt 31 #tw allusion to abusive relationship #tw implied future abuse #tw kidnapping #tw toxic caretaker #tw toxic relationship #tw cursing #restaurant #pls tell me if I miss an tws #tw drugged

[kybercrystals94]

Resilient

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 30 | Prompt 31: “I thought I was getting better.” | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Rating: T

Words: 935

Summary: Echo thought he had gotten past these episodes.

Author’s Note: I swapped the prompts for today and tomorrow, because I was going to post Part 3 of Regroup today; however, I needed a little more time with it, so it will be coming tomorrow!

“CT-1409, do you experience these episodes often?” a soft, even, expressionless voice asks.

Echo turns his head and finds himself face to face with a Kaminoan lab assistant, large orb eyes blinking slowly, expectantly. Waiting. They had asked him a question.

“What?” he asks, shifting awkwardly where he sits on the end of a medical cot, metal legs dangling.

The Kaminoan sighs but repeats the questions. “Your night terrors. Do you experience these episodes often?”

“No,” comes the automatic lie, “I don’t have night terrors.”

“That is incorrect, CT-1409,” the Kaminoan refutes, “Our records indicate that you experience night terror episodes between two and three times per week.”

“What records?” Echo demands. He’s never confessed his nightmares to anyone, let alone a Kaminoan medical facility. The only ones who know that he wakes up some nights with a scream being torn out of his lungs are...

“We receive reports from Clone Force 99,” the Kaminoan replies coolly. “It is troubling that you would find it acceptable to lie about your condition.”

Echo’s mind is reeling. The Batch told them? They’ve been reporting to the Kaminoans all this time? He trusted them...

“It isn’t a condition,” Echo protests weakly. His mouth and throat feel like he swallowed sand.

“Fully functioning clones are resilient to mental and emotional disorders such a post-traumatic stress. However, seeing as you have been altered extensively by the Techno Union, it is understandable that your cognitive constitution has been compromised.” The Kaminoan turns away from him, picks up a syringe filled with a silvery blue substance.

Echo stares at it. “What is that?”

“The cost of treating your condition far outweighs the benefits,” the Kaminoan tells him. “Please lie back and remain calm.”

“You’re going to decommission me,” Echo breathes out. He doesn’t move to lie down, he can’t. Even if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to die. “I need to speak with my commanding officer. CT-99...”

“There is no need,” the Kaminoan interrupts him. “Your commanding officer is fully aware of our decision.”

“No!” Echo shakes his head. “Hunter would not allow this. I demand to speak to him immediately.”

“You are Kaminoan property. Your commanding officer has no say. Please follow my request, or I will be forced to have you restrained.”

Echo wills himself to move, but it’s as though his muscles have turned to stone, heavy and unyielding. He can only watch in horror as the Kaminoan approaches him, puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back. The needle of the syringe glistens in the haunting white light overhead.

“It is a painless death,” the Kaminoan assures him.

“No, please,” Echo begs, and he realizes he is crying. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please.”

“You have served your purpose and are no longer a valuable or viable resource.” The pinch of a needle.

“Please...”

“Echo!”

The cyborg sits up with something between a strangled scream and a gasp. He is breathing hard, lungful after lungful of air doesn’t seem to be enough. A hand grips his bicep hard, and Echo pulls away wildly, swinging out with his scomp arm.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Hunter’s voice sounds startled, and Echo turns to see the Sargeant looking at him from several paces away.

“Stay away from me,” Echo chokes out, “Don’t come near me.”

“Echo,” Hunter soothes, “you were having a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“No,” Echo cries, “I’m not okay. I’m not!”

“Alright,” Hunter says.

Echo nods, still breathing hard. He can’t decide if his face is wet from sweat or tears. Maybe both. Either way, he rubs at his face with a shaking hand.

Hunter takes a step toward him, and Echo swallows, averting his eyes to the tangle of blankets only half covering him now. “Can I sit next to you, vod?” Hunter asks.

Brother.

Echo nods again, but Hunter still approaches slowly, like Echo’s a wounded animal about to lash out with teeth and claws. He kneels next to the bunk and puts out his hand, palm up. An offering. Echo takes it, gripping Hunter’s gloved hand so tight the fabric protests. “This is real,” Hunter murmurs. “You’re safe.”

“I’m safe,” the ARC echos softly. He sniffs. He is definitely crying. Kriff.

“This hasn’t happened in a while,” Hunter comments gently.

Echo tips his head back against the wall. “I thought I was getting better.” He glances at Hunter. “Did Omega hear anything?”

“Yeah,” Hunter admits, “she came and got me.”

Echo curses. “Hope I didn’t scare her too badly.”

“You didn’t,” Omega says from the doorway, her body pressed against the frame. “I was just worried about you.”

“I’m fine, kid,” Echo says. He releases Hunter’s hand and tries to wipe the dampness from his face again. “Just a bad dream.”

Omega smiles at him. “It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says.

Echo blinks. Damn it. The kid was going to make him start bawling again. He returns her smile shakily but doesn’t trust himself to say anything, so he gives her a tight nod. That seems to be enough, because after another flash of a smile, she’s gone, called away by Tech in the cockpit, by design, Echo thinks distantly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asks.

Echo shakes his head, the residual emotions of betrayal lingering in the corners of his mind. That wasn’t real, he reminds himself firmly. This is real.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Hunter says. He stands up, puts a heavy hand on Echo’s shoulder for a moment, then follows Omega out of the room, leaving Echo alone.

He focuses on the sound of the ship around him, takes a steadying breath. This is real.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List✨

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 30 #Prompt 31 #I thought I was getting better #Setbacks #Star Wars the Bad Batch #Star Wars #The Bad Batch #Nightmares #decommissioning #TBB Echo #TBB Hunter #TBB Omega #Echo needs a hug #Soft Hunter #Sweet Omega (as if there’s any other version of her really…)

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #31

A: How are you guys not dead yet???

B: I wonder that every day.

#prompt 31 #writing prompt #a and b

[lire-casander]

#31 always pointing out certain annoying behaviour

always pointing out certain annoying behaviour original prompt list here

Carlos is tapping his foot on the ground.

It wouldn't be annoying to TK any other time, but today, as they wait for the results of his genetic test on Huntington's disease, Carlos’ nervousness is grating TK’s nerves.

He places a hand on Carlos’ thigh to calm him down a little, but it is to no avail. Carlos stops his fidgeting for a few seconds, but the moment TK’s hand leaves Carlos’ thigh, the tapping resumes.

"Carlos," he calls out in a soft voice. He doesn't want to disturb the rest of the patients in the waiting room. "Babe, stop it, please."

"Stop what?" Carlos asks, looking at him with a frown. "I'm not doing anything."

TK swallows a sigh and counts to three before replying, "The fidgeting. You're making me, and everyone else here, nervous."

"I'm not fidgeting," Carlos defends himself.

"Every time you're nervous, you tap your feet," TK points out. "It's adorable the first few seconds, but after a minute it becomes annoying."

"So you find me annoying?"

TK counts to ten this time. "I haven't said that. Your fidgeting can be a bit too much, more so when we're in a hospital waiting room. I know you're nervous, I am too. No need to add to that, okay?"

Carlos shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to—I don't know, annoy you or anyone else. I didn't realize—"

"It's okay," TK reassures him. He places his hand once again on Carlos’ thigh and squeezes softly. "It's the same when you tell me to stop clicking my pen or munching on it when I'm studying."

"Well, this is a bit more serious than just studying," Carlos says. "But you're right. No need to add more pressure. We're already too agitated. But your results will be negative, you'll see. You won't have the gene."

TK smiles at his fiancé. He thinks he's really lucky to have Carlos in his life, with his positive and collected attitude even when he should be freaking out.

Until Carlos starts tapping his foot on the floor again.

TK sighs and places his hand on Carlos’ thigh for the third time in a row, keeping it in place. If contact is the only way to calm Carlos down, TK will do everything in his power to keep touching his fiancé.

As if it were such a hardship, he thinks to himself.

He only removes his hand when a nurse calls his name, requesting them follow her into the doctor's office.

#lire's 40 to the 40s #prompt 31: always pointing out certain annoying behavior #prompt 31 #tarlos #tk strand/carlos reyes #carlos reyes/tk strand #911ls #911 ls #911 lone star #spoilers for s04e15 #spoilers for s04e16

[toad-in-a-trenchcoat]

A beautiful sugared cherry

#Ending with a bang #inktober 2022 #prompt 31 #Farm #bee and puppycat

[kay-elle-cee]

Jilytober prompt 31: Writing letters to the other

Here it is, the final drabble! Thank you for the prompts and an incredible month, @jilytoberfest!

It's barely dawn.

James sits at the small desk in the corner of their room, dim morning light and a small Lumos the only thing allowing him to reread the words he's put down on parchment. Satisfied with the message, he creases the page, writing her name with the utmost care and longing upon the blank edge.

Lily

His quill stutters on the y and he wants to sink into this chair and never leave.

But that's not possible.

He stands quietly and his eyes fall upon her sleeping form—peaceful and unbothered, at least for a few hours each night—and he has to grab the edge of the desk to keep from crossing the room, brushing her hair aside, and giving her one final kiss.

He's going to his death, certainly, and anguish floods his senses knowing their last weeks together were spent like ships passing in the night. That his last weeks weren't spent drinking in her every sound, every look, every laugh that filled and filled him until his heart burst.

His letter seems like the coward's way out, but it was Moody's insistence that no one knew the plan before it was in motion. And it gutted him.

Lily,

I can't believe I'm having to leave you like this. I can't say much, only that Moody's sent a group of us off on some promising intel.

It's too important to not act but...it's not going to be easy. Moody made it pretty clear what we're walking into, what we might not walk out of. You know I'd never leave you like this if it wasn't the best chance of ending this thing for good.

I'm so sorry. God, Lily, I'm so sorry for having to say these things here, like this. I wish we could've spoken about it. I wish we could've had a proper goodbye. Hell, I wish that this war hasn't necessitated a goodbye in the first place.

But it appears I'm out of wishes. I used them all on us, and my only regret is not using them a little sooner to give us more time.

God and Merlin above I hope I come back. But if I don't, know how bright you made my life, even in the darkest of times. I love you, Lil. Forever.

He slips out the door with a last long look at his sleeping wife, her auburn hair fanned out around her. Taking a shuddering breath, he closes the door, knowing if he lingers any more he won't have the strength to leave.

Lily stirs at the sound of the door's gentle click, shifting ever so minimally in her sleep. Clutched in her hand is a letter, unread by its intended recipient.

James,

I've been trying to find a time to tell you this week, but lately our schedules have been so erratic we've barely seen each other. God, I wanted to see the look on your face when you found out, but I can't live with you not knowing anymore.

I'm pregnant.

Other Jilytober drabbles here.

#kelsey writes #jilytober #jilytober2022 #jily #31 prompts #prompt 31 #drabbles #ficlets #thank you all so much for coming along for the ride #love to you all!

[midcinmancave]

"I'm not alone and neither are you."

Love may heal all wounds, even Robert’s. Complete Story Source

Fictober Story  #06 Fandom:  Midnight Cinderella Featuring:  Robert Branche, The Princess Warnings:  Angst  Rating/Genre:  General Audience, Slice of Life Writer:  KoW Writer Project

[Original image credit: IRIASU]

#Fictober22 #fanfiction #Midnight Cinderella #31 #Robert Branche #Kingdom of Wysteria #MidCin #イケメン王宮 #Prompt 31

[red-akara]

Prompt 31 - Finale

I suppose you didn’t quite expect

for it to end like this.

A doorway through the eye socket

may lead to other worlds.

Who can know?

I know you tried.

And while you spiral

among the great expanse

of darkened void, remember.

The object of your discovery

is only but a haunt.

A shambling question

with no answer.

A velvet curtain

that hides your despair.

#finale #prompt 31 #incredibly inspired by the local 58 livestream tonight #analog horror #31 days of horror #31doh2022 #original #poetry #that’s the end! #happy halloween everyone!

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Fictober

100 word drabble: original fiction

“I’m not alone and neither are you”

He looked her in the eyes. “I’m not alone and neither are you.”

“It sure feels like it some days, though,” she sighed.  

“Well, being lonely doesn’t always involve being alone,” he shrugged. “I think we both know that, too.”

She quietly nodded, thinking about what her excuse to herself was this time for why she needed to get back to her daily life.  Both of them had their excuses, the things that really needed to be taken care of, and reasons that life couldn’t just be left behind on a whim.  Even if that whim was now getting old.

#fictober22 #100 word drabble #original fiction #prompt 31

[falcoworks]

Day 1 -- Autumn Colors

When the sound of fiddle music began to drift through the woods, fall had surely arrived.

#31 DAYS 31 PROMPTS LET'S GOOOO #Drawlloween #Halloween art challenge #Drawlloween 2023 #autumn colors #cat #pumpkin #scribble

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Ninjavember Days 25-30! 🎉🎉🎉

#ninjavember 2023 #rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #rc9gn sorcerer #rc9gn peddler #rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #randy cunningham #howard weinerman #can't believe i managed a whole -ber event!!!(except for one day but considering how much i drew for others its like meh) #like it happened only once or twice in my life before where i got thru whole month! lol #thank u evilspiritweek again for hosting! (also dude my brain literally didnt comprehend the 31 day thing until u pointed it out. so like #no worries dude we are all brainfryed around here) #also thank you anyone who enjoyed my prompt fills!! im glad my insanity didnt go unwitnessed! xD

[showyoumyfavoriteobsession]

TJ MIKELOGAN'S HALLOWEEN 2023 EVENT Day 1: A movie you watch every spooky season

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975, dir. Jim Sharman) ↦ timestamp roulette

#filmedit #horroredit #the rocky horror picture show #rhps #usertj #my gifs #about time i made a rocky horror gifset! i've only had this url for 11 years lol #more interesting gifsets to come! i'm not doing all 31 days but i had a lot of fun with the handful of prompts i did :)

[wigglebox]

Suptober - Day 15 || Abstract [x]

#suptober23 #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fanart #supernatural #spnfanart #wiggleart #I struggled with this one bc abstract can be so … abstract lol #but then I remember I liked the piet Mondrian pictures so this is inspired by that #also this is the last day except for Oct. 31 for official suptober prompts #I posted the extended list I brainstormed with a friend on my coloring book announcement #which is linked #so that will be the coming days!

[promptsbytaurie]

dialogue prompts for ~injury~

!!please credit/tag me!!

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

“Someone get the medic. Get the medic!”

“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”

“You did so good. Don’t worry, you-you did so good.”

“Here, lean on me. I can carry you.”

“We’re gonna fix you up, brand new. I promise.”

“No. No, stop. Stop talking like that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”

“I know, I know it hurts.”

"I don't care. I'm not leaving you."

“I’m going to lift you up, okay? Tell me if it hurts.”

“Where are they? Where are they?!”

"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so."

"You just watched them die."

"This is going to hurt, okay?"

"God, I'm so sorry, it'll be over soon, I promise."

"How many fingers am I holding up? ... I don't have six fingers."

"Stop. No. Wake up. Wake up! I said wake up!"

"I came as soon as I heard."

“Get away! You’re hurting them!”

“Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—”

“Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.”

“You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

"Help them! Please!"

"You scared us all back there. I... Including me."

"[name]? [name], this isn't funny. Stop... please..."

"Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid."

"It was supposed to be me... please, no, [name], please..."

"Tell me where it hurts, and be specific."

“You’ll be fine.” *silence* “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

#writing prompts #prompt list #angst #dialogue prompts #whump #injured #injured prompts #injury prompts #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #31 prompts #31

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 31st: Scary movie night | Vampires Will Never Hurt You - My Chemical Romance | Protective a/n: this one is a continuation from day 18's prompt! but it can absolutely be read separately! read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

It’s not like Eddie hasn’t had more than his fill of regrettable Open Mouth, Insert Foot moments in his life. He’s had plenty, a whole buffet of them in fact, but this might be the most humiliating one yet. 

As if being home on the best night of the year nursing wounds from actual monsters isn’t painful enough, he’s just learned that his tolerance for weed has decreased substantially from his baseline back in March. 

Enough so that as he and Steve, a new and surprising friend he desperately wants to be more, sit on his couch and watch A Nightmare On Elm Street, Eddie finds himself telling Steve truths he hasn’t told anyone yet.

Truths he hasn’t wanted to say aloud because that makes them truths, the same way that Freddy Krueger makes nightmares and dreams become real. 

Much like the fabled veil between worlds, the veil between Eddie’s brain and mouth is at its thinnest. 

“— and it just fucking sucks, dude. I’ve loved these movies my whole life! And now I can’t even enjoy them, I just look at these slasher scenes and see like, my actual life? I’ve been the slasher victim now and it’s not fun, and I want it to be because I love horror movies and now that’s just one more thing the Upside Down’s taking from me—” 

“We can change the movie if you want. Seriously, I don’t mind, man,” Steve tries to interrupt, running a soothing hand up and down Eddie’s arm, his eyes concerned as he strokes from wrist to elbow with far more gentility than Eddie’s used to. Or, maybe, feels he deserves. 

Steve’s words fall on deaf ears because Eddie’s on a rampage now, trying his best to breathe but Glen’s bed erupts on the screen, a geyser of blood sprouting from sheets to ceiling and Eddie just can't take it anymore. 

“Like that! God, I’ve lost that much blood! You, you had to carry me out of some bizzaro Freddy Krueger world covered in that much blood, and that’s not fair, right? We should be out at some party, you shotgunning a beer and me slinging wares and instead, we’re,” Eddie gestures vaguely towards the trailer living room. “Here.” 

He takes a breath and winces at the way deep inhales still pull at his side. 

That’s when Eddie realizes Steve’s holding his hand.

Their fingers are intertwined, just like their destinies were maybe always meant to be. He has more things to say, more thoughts, but they die on his tongue as he looks down at the small gesture tethering him to the couch. 

“Listen to me. What happened wasn’t fair, sure, but you did the best you could to keep Dustin safe and I don’t regret carrying you outta there for a fucking second.” Steve squeezes his hand. “Let’s just pick a different movie— maybe one with less like, blood and alternate dimensions— and if it makes you feel any better, I’ll shotgun a beer to make the Harrington Halloween experience authentic.” 

He turns and stares at Steve, into those huge eyes he’s only recently determined are hazel more than brown as he smiles back at Eddie, warily and crooked. 

And in that moment, he believes him. He does.

“Deal.” 

Steve pops in Ferris Bueller and does, indeed, shotgun a beer much to Eddie’s glee. 

The night wears on and Eddie ends up with his head in Steve’s lap, soaking in the feeling of Steve’s hand in his hair, his nails on his scalp. The sensation lulls him further into oblivion. 

“What if I came out like, a vampire or something? Would you still wanna be friends?” Eddie asks, the latest in a string of questions Steve’s handled with finesse and the occasional snark. He’s still Steve, after all. 

“Look, after everything I’ve seen, vampires are the least of my worries. Sure, bring it on.” 

“Even if I tried to drink your blood?” 

He’s teasing, but Steve looks at him with something heavy he can’t name. 

“Yeah, even then.” 

Silence beats on for a moment afterwards, the air shifting around them. 

“Y’know,” Eddie whispers for no reason. There’s nothing but Steve and silence beside him, but he doesn't want to disturb the atmosphere. “I’m actually kinda glad we ended up here instead of some shitty party. Wish I coulda made it with both nipples in tact, don’t get me wrong, but… yeah. I’m glad.” 

Bright teeth and glossy eyes gaze down at him, better than any Halloween decor or party lights could ever hope to be. Steve brushes the hair back from Eddie’s forehead and lets his other hand, large and warm, rest just above Eddie’s beating heart. 

“Me, too.”

tagging a few people who expressed interest in the follow up: @griefabyss69 @vecnuthy @starryeyedjanai @nostalgicbones @vampeddie

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie month prompts #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3333 #we did it #friends! 31 ficlets and blurbs for eddie month!