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witch-hazels-musings · 5 months

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familiar

Warning -> comfort, SFW - sick fic! (reader is sick: aches and pains, sore throat, general sick descriptions | reader passes out | reader is carried | reader is taken to an unfamiliar location and wakes up a bit disoriented but is safe | Childe: reader is threatened but unharmed, fingers get cut off of random person)

Includes: Childe, Diluc, Thoma

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Your skin was burning. You breathed and the air felt like fire as it passed across your chapped, dry lips. Someone called your name and you turned, lifted yourself from a hunched position to look only for the action to make your head swim.

You smiled anyway.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The patron near the counter slid something toward you. What was it? You blinked and realized there were several items in a basket. You swore they multiplied as you pulled them out one by one. The transaction was the slowest you'd completed in your life but it wasn't the last as several more people stepped in line. You felt a bead of sweat run down your spine.

You smiled and greeted them.

Your head throbbed. Parts of your body you rarely thought about ached, cried out in pain as you rose from the chair.

Finally, you could go home. Could rest.

Unsteady, the world teetering as you made your way toward the door, you caught your breath near the entrance only to realize you'd left your bag and the shop key in the back office.

Coughing, you tried to clear your throat and push through the waves of disorientation as you meandered back down the hall. You labored in the doorway with ragged breaths trying to remember what you went back here for. Pressing your forehead against the trembling and clammy hand that held onto the door frame, you tried to focus.

"What did I ..." you mumbled, scanning the room. A flash of flickering light from outside caught your attention. Pushing forward you grabbed the key and made your way to the front door.

The outside air felt as refreshing as drinking a cold glass of water on a hot day. You gasped at the way it caressed your skin, at the way it soaked into the mist that speckled your brow, that clung to the edges of your hairline. You breathed deeply, welcoming the strain of your lungs before an inevitable cough tore you from the reprieve. You crumbled, caught your breath, then, with multiple uncoordinated attempts, locked the front door.

It was hard to concentrate, but you let your muscle memory carry you through the streets. You did your best to smile and keep a safe distance from those you passed, though most people didn't seem to notice you, even when you staggered and caught yourself on a beam for support.

I just have to get home, you told yourself. Eyes blurry, head swirling and disorganized. The stack of crates next to you served as a useful crutch. You did your best to catch your quickening breaths against them. All you wanted to do was sleep.

You made it through the day like this, what was a few more minutes?

A surge of strength rose in you as you pushed away from the pile of crates but as soon as you took a step your legs crumbled and you fell into a heap at the edge of the street. Your hands burned from the violent contact of the sharp, frozen ground. Puffs of steam exploded from your mouth as you struggled to take in as much air as you exhaled.

You swore you heard your name but when you turned your head to look, the world went dark.

Childe

His smile faded as soon as they left his office. The click of the door was the switch he needed to flip the mask he was so good at wearing. Just like he had learned - like a good boy.

He wiped his face with the palm of his hand and rose from his chair. At least they gave him a window - though perhaps it was more of a tease than a gift. A reminder that he was trapped in a room with suffocating walls. Like a caged animal, whose only desire was to feel the soil beneath their feet.

He hated when they made him do this work. Even if it was a pain, he'd rather be out in the field training new recruits than sitting in this stifling room signing off on peoples debts they'd never repay.

Childe sighed and leaned against the window. He scanned the passersby, hoping, wishing one of them would give him an excuse to leave this cramped office. Though, it was unlikely - Liyue rarely had anything fun. He missed the days before the Archon fell. At least then he had toys to play with.

A knock rattled his thoughts, "We've got three more for you, sir."

"Tell them to come back tomorrow," Childe called without looking at the massive and decorated door.

"I'll be sending in the next one shortly," they replied, clearly ignoring him. He rolled his eyes and looked back down to the street. In the corner, just out of view, he saw someone stumble through a back alley. He would have passed it off as a drunk if there wasn't an air of familiarity to the figure.

Childe pinched his brow as drifting voices spilled in from the hall.

He turned to head back at his desk but gave one last look to the alleyway and saw a small group taking the same path the stumbling person just walked.

"Childe will see you now," the voice said as they opened the door to Childe's office, head bowed and eyes closed as their arm escorted them inside.

"Um - who will?"

The voice snapped their eyes open to see an empty office with an open window and billowing curtains. "damn-it", they cursed and ran down the hallway.

Childe stayed in the shadows. Curiosity leading the way as he stalked the group. Further down the alley something crashed onto the stone ground but he had a hard time making out what it was. The group turned a corner and he could hear their voices echo off the tight buildings. He leapt onto a nearby walk-way hoping to get a good view of whatever was about to happen below, but when he saw who they were stalking their way toward, he finally understood why his body leapt out the window on its own.

Rage filled him as he launched forward so he could land between your gasping body and the oncoming group.

"What did I tell you guys? Easy pickins -- woah!" The group raised their hands as a wave of water splashed against them. They all stumbled, but one fell to the ground. "What the-"

"I suggest you leave."

"Huh?!" The one in the middle stepped forward, clothes soaked, hands fumbling for a knife. "T-this was ours first. So b-back off," he tried to puff out his chest but looked more like a drenched toad than anything to be frightened of. It would have made Childe laugh it he weren't currently seething, and if he hadn't looked back to see you shaking, terrified as you barely held yourself off the ground.

"If you're looking for a fight, I'll happily provide you one," Childe threatened, his blades appearing in his hands and sending out a high pitch whine as they danced in his grip, "See I've been cooped up all day and could really use a good workout."

"H-hey man, let's just go," one of them quivered, grabbing the 'leaders' arm.

"No, this is ours - we need thi-" the leaders voice died out as a slash of water cut through the fingers that had managed to grip his feeble knife in the first place. The man screamed, doubled over while his friends held onto his shoulders to keep him from falling to the ground.

"I must not have heard you correct. Because, I'm pretty sure you just called something of mine, yours?" Childe took a step toward them, his body raging, his blades growing at the thought of them calling you theirs. "So, I'm going to give you another chance to repeat yourself."

The group scurried like rats down the drenched alleyway and though he was half-temped to chase after them, to teach them a lesson, he barely made it a step when something burning grabbed his pant leg.

In an instant, his blades faded into nothing and he turned to scoop you into his still trembling arms. You were on fire, and even though he could tell you had near to no strength, you still managed to wrap your arms around his neck and hide against him.

With a possessive hand cupping the back of your head, he held you close and made his way to where he knew you'd be safe.

You could finally breathe without a protest from your lungs. Only a few areas ached instead of everywhere, and though you were still warm, you felt surrounded by cool waters.

Shifting, you tried to sit up, to open your eyes, but something covered your eyes and you fell back into satin.

"Sleep," a voice told you. It felt stern, but warm. Your tried to push the darkness away but found it hard, even when you curled your fingers around the palm of someone's hand. "You're still sick. So go back to bed."

"Where -- where am I?" you croaked, your voice dry and scratchy.

"You're safe." The voice felt so familiar. You breathed and though your nose was stuffy, you caught a whiff of something that made you turn your head toward the dip in the bed.

"... Childe? What's happening?"

"Don't worry your head over it. You're alright, that's all that matters."

You listened to his voice, felt his palm against your skin, sensed his presence next to you. You weren't sure how you got here, honestly you weren't sure where you even were, but Childe was here - he was right here and, as you moved closer to him and let your forehead press against his side, you felt safer than you ever had in all your life.

Childe turned his head from the book in his hands to glance at the sleeping figure next to him. It was the first time he'd ever seen you so relaxed, so at ease. The first time you'd ever been this near to him - the first time you'd ever been in his bed.

Carefully, he ran his fingers over your ear and let them know the taste of your skin while you slept.

He sighed and wondered how he was ever going to let you go now.

Diluc

The cold air reminded him another season was passing, changing. He'd stopped trying to measure the passage of time years ago, but there was something about cold, night air that felt like a ticking clock. Or maybe it was the reliable pocket watch he kept with him while he worked to help him tell when he could 'respectfully' request everyone leave so he could do more, important, work.

"Master Diluc," Charles said as he slid a heavy wooden box onto the back counter, "I think we've got another in the back."

"Great," Diluc held back a sigh but not the heavy roll of his eyes, and stashed the cup he had just pulled down for a customer. "Finish this up. I'll deal with it."

"Sounds good. What can I getcha?" he asked the drunk patron who didn't seem bothered to repeat their order to the new, friendlier, bartender.

Diluc reached for his jacket as he passed the back office. His hair snagged the coarse fabric as he pulled it from underneath. He adjusted the collar before opening the door to the back alley.

He hated dealing with drunks in the first place, but a sick one throwing up behind his establishment was somehow worse.

Scanning the immediate area didn't reveal anything to him. So he took another step into the chilly evening. Off in the distance, near the stairs that lead to the small docks on the lake, he saw a silhouette hunched over a stack of crates. Ones he had just assisted in unloading earlier that day.

"Hey, don't make it other people's problem if you can't hold your ---" Diluc froze when he saw the blob of dark shadows turn into your shape and likeness. He blinked, thinking he had made it up, but as he drew closer he knew his eyes didn't lie. Normally, you would have waved to him, called out to him - brightened his day - but right now you looked terrible. When he called to you, you didn't answer.

His pace quickened when he saw you stumble away from the crates and he was practically running when you fell to the ground. He let out a breath when he was just in time to catch your head before it careened into the cobblestone.

"... are you ok--?" Diluc turned you toward him but he didn't need to feel your brow to know you were burning up. He could see it in your pained expression, in the moisture of the night as it drifted toward him. When he realized you didn't have anything on you, he took actions into his own hands. "Hold on."

Diluc hoisted you into his arms, made sure you rolled into him as he carried you swiftly back toward the bar. With every groan and whimper he became more concerned. His muscles tensed when your fingers weakly grasped his clothes. Even though it made you whine, he held you closer to him and picked up the pace.

There were only a few sounds in this world that made his heart stop.

He took no time carrying you up the stairs to the third-floor apartment he used on nights he didn't want to make the long walk back to the Winery. As he passed by the confused, and rightfully worried Charles, word was already on its way to the church to bring a healer.

You were so hot. Your back hurt to the point you wished someone would rip it from you. Every breath was agonizing but you couldn't convince yourself to stop breathing.

You felt somewhere between dead and alive, and though you didn't understand it, you found yourself in a bed you didn't recognize, in a room you'd never been in before.

The shapes came and went. A halo of light bloomed in the corner. You coughed, pulled back the sheets but froze when a figure now stood where the halo once was.

"Who --"

"Don't get up," a voice, a familiar voice said. The figure moved closer to you. You tried to lift your hands in defense but they were weak and in your uncoordinated move, you slipped from the sheets. "I got you," the voice comforted you. Gentle words that floated into your ear. Something sturdy and wrapped around your stomach.

The figure, which smelled like barrels of sweetened fruit, carefully helped you back into the bed. Strands of red filled your senses and brushed against your cheek. Kind fingers caressed your jaw as they slipped to the back of your neck and eased you onto your back.

"Try to rest. I've called on a healer." The figure spoke, their deep voice like the rustle of leaves in the morning sun. "You're safe. I've got you," they said like a mantra as their fingers soothed your weary eyes closed. "I've got you."

The warmth of their touch against your skin was soothing, but suddenly it was gone and you cried out, reached out your hand to find it again. "Don't go," you pleaded.

Their touch returned to your fingertips, then your palm as they took your shaking hand in theirs. "I'm right here," the voice soothed and let you hold your captured treasure close to your parted lips.

You found it strange that your sickness would concoct such a vivid and realistic specter in the shape of the man who held your heart.

Thoma

"Hah, not a problem," Thoma waved them off for the third time. "It really wasn't that difficult. So don't worry about it." He took another step back and let out a playful laugh even as the person bowed for the tenth time in front of him.

Eventually, after many more reassurances, he managed to be on his way and - surprisingly - was only ten minutes behind schedule. With speed, and restraining himself to only courteous waves and passing smiles, he hastily walked down the busy Inzuma streets. To save himself more time, he dipped into a less traveled alleyway and doubled his pace.

It wasn't uncommon to see random and sometimes unsightly scenes in the back alleys. Inazuma was safe, but it wasn't immune to crime. So, as he spied a figure hunched over a stack of crates, he debated if the person looked like they did, or didn't, belong there. When he got closer, he started to recognize bits a pieces of the blurry figure.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips and growing with each second. When you didn't answer him, and he saw you stumble away from the crates and fall to the ground, his joy shifted to fear.

He swore he'd never run so fast in his life.

When you didn't answer him, or react to your name, he wasted no time in lifting you from the dirty, cold ground and into his arms. He wasn't far from the estate, but he also wasn't close. Normally you had a bag - one he remembered because you'd purchased it with him the last time the two of you went to the markets - but right now you were empty handed. Something was clearly wrong.

With you in his arms, Thoma rushed through the alley. His heart raced at the sound of your labored breathing, at the way your face scrunched with every jostle of his movements, at the trembling hand that gripped his clothes.

"Hold on," he soothed, "Just hold on." Thoma burst through the alley and ran through the crowded streets toward the Kamisato Estate.

Something cold touched your forehead and you let out a gasp at the contact. Instinctually, you tried to push it away with weak hands.

"I know its cold," a voice said. A comforting, familiar voice that called to your heart. Whoever it was took your hand and caressed your skin with a gentle thumb. "You have a fever, this will help."

You groaned, tried to open your eyes but found it hard. Your body ached and though you didn't want it to, it moved uncomfortably under plush sheets.

After a while the covering over your eyes lifted and you heard the sound of water falling. Turning your head, you pried open your burning eyes to capture blurry and unusual shapes. Your heart raced as you tried to figure out where you were, but the longer it took, the more concerned you were.

"I ha --- to go," you tried to push yourself up but swift footsteps met you before you could.

"Easy, you're sick. You need your rest."

Why was this voice so familiar?

You looked up, even though the action made your head throb. Squinting your eyes, the blob of yellow and red in front of you started to take shape.

"T-Thoma?"

The blob made a smile and pushed strands of your hair out of your face. "It's me," he reassured you, his hand cupping your cheek. Like someone who opened up a door to a dark room, his contact breathed new life into you.

He caught you You fell into him He ease you to rest You were finally at ease

"You found me," you said weakly with a thankful smile. His hand brushed the top of your head and the cold returned but, this time, it felt soothing, refreshing.

"I always do," he hummed and soon your uneasy breaths slowed and faded into healing slumber.

#genshin impact #hazels works #genshin impact sfw #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact childe #childe x gn reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc x gn reader #genshin impact thoma #thoma x gn reader

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short-honey-badger · 4 months

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Peppermint Tea 9

Hey guys! On to part 9! I've been doing a lot of thinking on this fic and I think it's evolved into something bigger. Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings! Violence in a dream

Masterlist

Dracule leaves two days later. You send him off with a kiss and a pouch of your peppermint tea leaves and watch him sail away until he is nothing but a speck on the horizon. You shake your head, the forlorn feeling present, but you are quick to shove it down. You had things to do, so you didn't need to be standing around wondering when you would see Dracule again.

After the incident at the cliff, Mihawk had acted as if nothing had happened, and you were content to let the promise slide. The next two days had been spent quietly reading and getting to know one another. Sweet kisses and wandering hands had invaded each one of those moments until Dracule rose this morning and deemed that he had to go. Business to attend to once again.

You frown thinking about those words. You want to know what he means by business. You want to know what islands he goes to and who he's met. You have poured over your books and sea stained papers for years, and every single map you have come across never has your island.

You know the shape and length and every plant and animal that shares this island with you. You and Hank have explored every nook and cranny your home has to offer, down to the sandy beach and up to the small mountain on the western side of the tropical island. And not once have you seen it labeled or drawn on any of the scrolls that wash up on the shore.

Dracule offered you so little knowledge about himself. However, he could go on for hours about the books he's read, reciting poetry from memory as the two of you sit by the fireplace late at night. Later, he would say that he would bring you more books, either to add to your collection or to replace the old ones.

Maybe you can convince him to bring some maps so that you can try and find out more about your home. Did you live in any of the Blues? Or was your home in the more dangerous parts of the ocean such as the Grand line and the New World? You had no idea.

The shaggy body of Hank barreling into you sends the melancholy thoughts from your mind as the big dog pulls your focus on him. He has his stick again, and the two of you play until both of you are exhausted and in need of a good nap.

The two of you would wake up later than you had intended in the evening and examine the seeds and other goodies that Dracule had brought with him. You had been far too distracted with the man in question to even think about going out and planting any, but now was a good time as ever. You find some empty pots and carefully press the delicate seeds into the soil that you'd gathered from your garden. Once covered, you add enough water to properly dampen the spoil and then place each of your pots on the tall barrels that sit behind your home. You smile down at your hard word, excited for when the saplings break through the soil, though that wouldn't be for a week or two at the least.

The rest of the day was spent harvesting your other herbs, cutting and drying out the roots and leaves for brewing and leaving the rest to replant. It's satisfying work, and soon, your kitchen is full of drying herbs that make your home smell delightful. Chores done for now: You make yourself a cup of tea from the ones that Mihawk had gifted you and settle on the couch by the fireplace with one of his books. You read until you dozed off, Hank curled up on the floor snoozing away with you.

~~~~~~~~

“Oh boy, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Shanks crowed, a grin stretching across his face as he raised his mug of ale up in greeting. It isn't often that Mihawk would show up in a good enough mood for a drink, especially since the warlord didn't want to fight him anymore.

Dracule rolls his eyes, a sneer on his lips as he casts his ringed eyes over the Red-Haired Pirates and their Captain. He'd seen the Red Force by chance and had decided on a whim to investigate what they were up to. In a way, it was his job to do so, so it wasn't like it was out of his way, “Only to see what you and your lot are doing here.”

It didn't help that the Yonko had docked on an island only a four day sail away from your home. Shanks didn't hang around the first half of the Grand Line often, so it made him antsy to know that someone so powerful, even with a single arm, was so close to his safe haven.

“The usual, partying, exploring, having a good time. Something you should definitely do more often,” Shanks tells him, vague and annoying like always.

Dracule keeps his expression neutral. Shanks was like a shark in the water when it came to finding out things about his once close friend. It would be catastrophic if the redhead found out about you.

“I have my own way of enjoying my time. One that doesn't involve drinking myself into a stupor every evening,” Dracule quips, but still takes the offered drink despite his words.

Shanks slaps him on the back, laughing jovially, and Mihawk grimaces when the unexpected contact makes his drink slosh over the edge of his mug. Dracule shrugs off the offending hand with a roll of his eyes.

“I'm sure you do, Hawkeye. Brooding away in that castle if yours. When's the last time you even spoke to a woman?” Shanks teases and knocks back the rest of his ale then signals the bar keep for a new one with a cheeky wink.

“A couple of days ago, if you must know,” Dracule admits without thinking about it, and immediately curses himself when Shanks gasps dramatically and crowds his space.

“What? Tell me about her! What's she like? What's her name? She must be someone special to catch your eye, Mihawk.”

Dracule shoves the redhead back, regret coiling hot at his mishap. He takes his time by sipping his ale and ignores the manchild whining in his ear and asking questions after question that Dracule would not be answering. His patience soon wears thin, however, and he slams his mug down on the counter with a snarl.

“It is none of your business, Shanks. I never meant to say anything to you about her,” Dracule states, tone tinged in an unfamiliar rage. He doesn't get angry very often, but the thought of playboy, beachbum, Shanks even knowing your name sets his teeth on edge.

The other pirate captain shows some tack for once in his life and raises his hand in surrender, “Alright. I won't ask anymore,” he says, but a shit eating grin is curling his lips and he leans in close to the warlord, “Ya gotta at least tell me she's a catch though, right?”

Mihawk huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shanks just couldn't stop could he?

“As beautiful a fresh blanket of snow, but with a smile that could melt it all away,” Dracule murmurs quietly and Shanks eyes the swordsman in a new light. He had never heard the man wax poetry about someone before.

“Huh, you must really like her then, huh?” Shanks presses and is rewarded with the sight of Dracule dipping his head in a nod. he sips his ale, thoughts swirling about this mystery woman.

“Well. I'm glad you've finally found someone that'll put up with your broody ass,” Shanks snickers and slaps Mihawk on the back once more with a big grin. Truly, he was happy that his friend had someone to escape to, especially when their world grew more dangerous every day.

Mihawk is quiet for a long time, long enough that he has finished his ale and stands from his stool. He tosses enough berri on the counter to cover his drink, and then turns away from Shanks, “Thank you, Red Hair,” he begins and sends the Yonko a look over his shoulder, eyes holding The threat of a fight, “Don't make me regret telling you.”

Shanks laughs with a shake of his head and waves at Dracule, “I'll try not to, Hawkeye,” he snickers again at the glare that receives for that, but it was definitely worth it.

Mihawk leaves the island without bothering to learn its name and sets sail for Gloom. He filled the boring trip with thoughts of you, recalling how nicely your cool skin felt upon his heated body. How much he enjoyed listening to you read from the books he's already devoured countless times. How sweet your lips taste when you kiss him so innocently.

Dracule is not sure when he will go back, but his hands already itch to feel your soft skin, and he is parched for the sweet peppermint tea you grow. The warlord sighs, a great expel of air from his lungs, and looks north to the calm belt, where your island stays protected at its edge.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The screams of the men and children of your home island echo in your ears as you are dragged through the crowds of people. Your older brother holds you tight by the wrist, pulling you through the throngs of citizens. Your short legs can hardly keep up, but you power through the fatigue to keep up with your brother.

Your island, your home is being attacked, and you are terrified. You don't understand why it's happening, only know that your oldest brother had woken you up in the middle of the night and packed your largest bag with the essentials. He had instructed you to be silent as the two of you snuck through the castle, away from your mother and father and other siblings that still slept in peace.

You yelped when you suddenly tripped over a loose brick in the road, sending you to your knees and snow exploded around you and your brother, causing screams to erupt all around. You wince and push yourself up, desperately scrambling for your older brother.

Gods, you wish you could remember his name.

“Come on, princess,” He is suddenly there, swinging you up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “We're almost to the port.”

You watch from your perch as the people of your island run for the castle, panic and fear all around as the town burns and the fields are decimated by someone with an earth devil fruit. Your brother runs as fast as he can to the port, trying to shield his baby sister from the harsh realities of a treaty gone wrong and a dark secret revealed.

The two of you make it to Port just in time to witness the biggest ship you have ever seen crash into the main docks. The pirates don't seem to care about the destruction they have caused, and you watch in horror, eyes latching onto the symbol that the barbarians proudly wear. It's a bright pink cloud, a skull with bug red lips and with a sun and a tree on opposite corners.

The sight is broken when your brother rounds a corner, and you grunt when he slides to a sudden stop. You try to turn around and are able to catch sight of a wide brimmed hat with a massive white feather falling from the back. A giant sword rests on the man's back, the hilt oddly shaped like a cross.

“Don't look, Sunshine,” your brother orders, but you don't listen. You can't listen to him. Not when that hat and sword look so familiar. But from where?

You are still thinking about the strange looking man when the two of you finally make it to the escape ship. Your brother loads you up, and with one last forlorn look at your dying island, he sets sail for Paradise, away from the New World, where his precious little sister would be safe.

You wake slowly, the dream trickling away like grains of sand in an hourglass. It felt familiar, and your heart ached at the sight of the man who had saved you. With a sigh, you pull yourself up from the couch and give Hank a smile. It was time to start the day.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #peppermint tea

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anipgarden · 7 months

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What to Do Once Things Are Planted?

This is my seventh post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps!

So you’ve gotten started on making a garden to boost biodiversity! 10/10, excellent work! So, now what?

First, you’ll need to keep watering the plants--especially if you’re going through a dry season. Native plants will be more acclimated to your area’s seasonal weather, but they’ll need a helping hand while they’re getting established--especially if you’re starting with young, tender seedlings. With that in mind, if you accidentally skip out on crucial watering days, don't panic! There's been tons of times where I haven't watered for an entire summer and had perennials come back the next spring! Even this year, during a heatwave, I completely did not water my swamp milkweeds, but they're already popping back up! You may also need to go in and weed, especially if you’re seeing invasive species popping up in the garden. Invasives are no good--if you do anything, do your best to get those out as effectively and safely as possible!

If you’re needing to maintain your shrubs in spring and summer, double check to make sure there are no active bird or insect nests within them. If it’s possible to wait until later to cut your shrubs, it could be extremely beneficial.

When fall and winter come around and your plants begin to die back, don’t cut them away if you can! Many insects overwinter in the plant stems left behind as perennials die back to the roots. In addition, birds will use seed heads as a source of food over the winter. Try not to clean things up until late winter/early spring, when other food sources are beginning to come back and things are growing again. By then, the insects should be waking up and leaving the plant stems as well.

However, don’t let this discourage you from collecting seeds! Collecting seed from your plants is a great way to continue gardening at low cost, as well as making friends and encouraging others to garden by trading seeds or offering them as gifts. If you're in an area where you do need to cut back, this is a great opportunity to collect the seeds and save them for the future. You could also cut back what’s dying in the front yard and keep things to overwinter in the backyard. Some overwintering habitat is better than no overwintering habitat.

Want to know how to collect seeds from specific plants? I've found YouTube to be a great source of info for this! Knowing what you're doing and when is key to getting a viable harvest.

As your mulch begins to break down, you’ll need to keep adding more to top it off, if you can. It can get a bit repetitive, but no worries--the mulch breaking down means your soil is improving!

If possible, add to your garden! Expand, add in new things, and keep encouraging the growth of native plants. If you couldn’t add that water feature in year one, see if you can in year two! New interest in birds? Add a birdhouse, or more bird feeders. Loving the butterflies? Add plenty more nectar-rich plants, or do more research into what they lay their eggs on! Want more color? See what else you can add in! Came into some new pots to expand your flowerpot garden with? Find cool native plants to put in them! I always encourage people to start small and then expand over time, as opposed to starting big and getting overwhelmed.

Keep learning and observing native species of birds, insects, mammals, etc. See what’s coming to your yard now, and look into how you can improve things more for them on your budget. If you aren’t seeing what you were hoping, see if there’s other actions you can take that’ll attract what you’re hoping to see in your backyard habitat. Knowing more about the world around you makes it easier to know how to help the world around you. Talk to others about what you’re doing, the changes you’ve made, and the results you’ve seen! Curious neighbors? Work friends? Your closest homies? Your family? All fair game! You just might be the one who gets someone else interested in making their space a habitat for local wildlife!

That’s the end of this post! My next post is gonna be about the secret Other Thing you can do to help biodiversity--tackling invasives! Until then, I hope this advice was helpful! Feel free to reply with any questions, your success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!

#biodiversity #solarpunk #gardening #outdoor gardening #ani rambles #out of queue #the biodiversity saga #at least it hasn't been 2 months since the last post amiright #i know its september so by this point a lot of northern hemisphere folks are winding down on gardening #buuuut winter's a good time to buy seeds for cheap! and for plotting and planning #and meanwhile the southern hemisphere will be just gearing up!#either way I hope this advice has been helpful so far!

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lowlights · 17 days

Text

cosmic disruption

summary: the eclipse happens, and everything changes.

Joel Miller x gn!reader // 1.5k

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, reader and Joel are patrol buddies, cute handholding, a smooch, self-indulgent eclipse nonsense

thank you to @ezrasbirdie for telling me to write this and @saradika for the divider!

To say that “normal” had changed a lot in the two decades since the outbreak was a laughable understatement. Society had upended in every single way possible, reshaping itself into something brand new and most often focused on the basics of survival. Amidst the hard work of existing, Jackson sometimes afforded you a few moments that made you feel like your old normal.

As you thumbed through a yellowed astronomy almanac in the small town library, a date only two weeks from today caught your eye. “Globally, total solar eclipses happen every 18 months,” you read to yourself, “however they only occur once every 400 years in a singular location.” The little science nerd who still lived inside of you jumped for joy when you saw a list of cities in the path of totality for this year.

“Jackson!” you announced triumphantly to Joel as he walked through the door.

“Yeah, we’re in Jackson,” he confirmed with a confused look.

“No, look! Jackson is in the path of totality! We get to see a total solar eclipse in a couple of weeks, look here- Joel, look!” you held the book in front of his face, tapping the page eagerly.

Joel grimaced. “Well that’s fine, but we ain’t got time for all that seeing as that’s our patrol day. Who cares what the sun is doin’ anyway, as long as it rises and sets each day?”

You lowered the book, defeated. “I care. I wanted to be an astronomer when I was a kid, did I ever tell you?” Your thoughts drifted far away to that little kid who got their first telescope on their eighth birthday. The world seemed so full of possibility then.

Joel’s face softened a bit. “I don’t think you ever told me that. Hard to say though with all that yapping you do during patrols, sometimes I just drown it out.”

You slapped his arm half-heartedly as he smirked, his eyes bright with humor, and carefully put the book back on the shelf. “Did you come in here just to give me a hard time, Miller?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Long past lunch and I didn’t see you in the mess. Heard you might be over here gettin’ lost in the books again. C’mon, they’ve got those roasted potatoes you like so much. Saved you some.”

You thought about the eclipse on and off for several days but put it mostly out of your mind as you took care of your chores and went off on your patrols every three days. Joel had long been your preferred patrolling partner, once you figured out that his silence and scowl didn’t mean he hated you. He grumbled about most things but in a way that always made you smile.

He might give you a hard time for how much you talked, but it was Joel who was the true storyteller. He wouldn’t admit it for anything, but he came alive when you got him talking about music or his brother or even woodworking. There were many topics that Joel wouldn’t speak on, and you had gotten pretty good at not pushing even when your curiosity burned at you.

Today you were focused on tilling the soil for next month’s garden starts to be transplanted outside. You liked working with your hands, truth be told, and this was a job that no one else wanted. You were happily alone with your thoughts, humming a tune under your breath, when Joel walked up.

“Hey there, Miller. Whatcha got there?” you asked, laying down your backhoe and tugging your gloves off.

Joel shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he held out a plywood box to you. “Made you this,” he said without explanation. You took the box from his hands and marveled at how light it was despite being the size of a large microwave.

“Thank you? What… is it?” you inquired. Joel was not the gift-giving type, and this was surely one of the oddest things anyone had ever given you.

Joel looked uncomfortable. “Did I do it wrong? It’s been a long time since I made one.”

“Do what wrong? What is this?” you turned the box around, noting a large hole cut out of the bottom and an aluminum panel on one side.

“Today is eclipse day, ain’t it? That’s what the book said. I looked it up and it says it starts in about 20 minutes, and this will let you look at it without burning your retinas clean off. Unless you want to look directly at the sun which is your business, I s’pose,” Joel rambled hurriedly.

Realization hit you. “Oh, Joel. Did you make me a pinhole viewer?”

He nodded. “It’s for your eclipse.”

Your eclipse. You sat the box down carefully before practically flinging yourself at Joel, wrapping your arms around his neck. Emotion welled up in your chest. “Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Joel froze for just a moment before reciprocating your hug. He drew you in tight against his body, tucking his nose against your neck. “It wasn’t any trouble. Just wanted you to have something, not a big deal.”

You sniffled. “It is a big deal, Miller. Thank you.”

You both were hesitant to part, holding on to each other as long as you could. You had never so much as shook Joel Miller’s hand before today, but something about being in his embrace felt…right. Like you should have been there long before this moment.

Joel gave you a squeeze before you broke apart. “Let’s go over to the other side of that tree line there, you’ll get the best view,” he suggested. He picked up the box with one hand and reached out for you with the other. You laced your fingers through his without a thought and followed him towards the clearing.

“Alright now, what you do is turn your back to the sun like this and put your head inside,” he instructed, lowering the box to rest on your shoulders. You noted that he had padded the sharp edges of the cutout with fabric so that it rested comfortably. “And just move your head around til you see the sun on the paper inside there.”

You followed his instructions until the eclipse came into view. “Oh my god, there it is! Oh, Joel. You can see the Sun’s corona, and oh - I think that was a flare! Joel, you have to see this!”

You started to lift the box off of your head, but Joel stopped you. “No, sweetheart, this is just for you. Just tell me what you see.”

“You’re not staring at the sun, are you?” you asked with genuine concern.

“No I’m not staring at the sun, for Christ’s sake,” he responded gruffly. You just laughed.

Joel held your hand and squeezed every so often, humming in acknowledgment at everything you were saying as you watched the moon pass in front of the sun. At one point you just stared in an awed silence, thinking about how you wouldn’t have believed even an hour ago that you would be standing here holding hands with Joel Miller and looking at the sky.

The moon and the sun didn’t know that there was an apocalypse, and at this moment you forgot there was also.

Finally, as the moon continued its trek across the sky, you lifted the box off of your head. As your eyes adjusted to the light, Joel’s smiling face met yours. You had never seen him smile so big with happiness radiating from his eyes.

“That was…more than amazing. Thank you. How did you know how to make that?” you asked, immediately regretting the question as the smile faltered just a bit.

Joel cleared his throat. “Made it with my, uh, daughter for her third grade science project.”

He didn’t offer any more details and you didn’t ask. You just took his hand again and smiled sadly. You knew loss too, like everyone in this world, and you didn’t need to ask how much pain he had been through.

“You know, you’re awfully sweet, Miller. I’m going to have to tell the rest of the town,” you joked, watching the sadness lift just a bit from his face. “They’re going to expect you to be nice to them from now on.”

He laughed and shook his head. “They know better than to think that. Tommy said they know it’s just for you, anyway.”

“Just for me?” you asked quietly.

He looked away. “I’m no good at this, sweetheart. But I took a shine to you a long time ago and I’m not hidin’ it anymore. Do you…do you think you could take a liking to an old bastard like me?”

“Joel…” you breathed out, turning his head back so you could look straight into his deep brown eyes. “I never thought you would feel that way about me. I hoped, so many times, that you would just lean over and kiss me. Or that I would get the courage to tell you how I felt. I could do more than take a liking to you, Miller.”

Without another word, Joel Miller kissed you. Gently, deeply, a perhaps a little clumsily. It had been a long time since either one of you had done that. You hoped you would get the chance to do it again and again.

“Thank you for my eclipse, Joel.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #gn!reader #fluff #the last of us fanfic #tlou #eclipse

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musings-and-overanalyses · 7 months

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Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: Why This is My Favourite Ghibli Movie

CW: Major high-school English teacher vibes ahead. Proceed at your own risk.

Nausicaä of the valley of wind is a story of the titular character Nausicaä and her being a bridge between the world of humans and nature to bring peace, thus fulfilling an ancient prophecy.

Nausicaa is the princess of the Valley of the Wind. The film begins with her walking and exploring the Sea of Decay, an area with toxic air, plants and fungal spores. She collects some spores and finds the hard molten shell of an Ohmu (gigantic blue-blooded trilobite-looking creatures), which her people use to make weapons and tools. As the name suggests, the Valley of the Wind is a civilisation that depends on and bases their culture around wind, which one can see through an abundance of windmills and gliders, including the one that Nausicaä rides. They are shown to be peaceful people who do not interfere with the politics of the warring human kingdoms or disturb nature. Nausicaä in particular is shown to have a special gift with animals—from calming Ohmus to having a pet fox-squirrel. As the existence of the kingdom depends on the sea wind that shields them from the effects of the sea of decay, there is a general reverence towards nature and its other members such as the Ohmus, that are often referred to with honorifics.

This was an element I liked: the symbolism goes deep in this film; for example, with the nature of wind—it being the very breath necessary for life is contrasted with its other face, through toxic spores in the sea of decay capable of killing anyone who inhales it.

It is revealed that humans had built The Giant Men, weapons so dangerous—not unlike our atomic bombs as shown through the characteristic mushroom cloud—that the destruction caused by the war had unleashed the fury of the Ohmus, an otherwise gentle species. They wiped out entire civilisations and where they died, the Sea of Decay grew on their decomposing corpses, showing how all life is interconnected and that even in death the rage of the Ohmus, and through them the rage of nature, wouldn't subside. It is then that the viewers find out that this is not some far-off planet, but a post-apocalyptic future on earth.

New species of plants and fungi made the Sea of Decay their habitat—nature and life always find a way. It is implied that the humans lost the war referred to as the Seven days of Fire, but the truth is that it is not a war that can ever be won. Even if you win the war against nature you lose. As the story progresses, we see that the plants and fungi that Nausicaä collected from the Sea of Decay are actually trying to purify the soil and water—nature holds no grudges but only seeks balance.

The seventh of the Giant Men, a sentient atomic bomb if you will, apparently hid underground for a thousand years until the kingdom of Pejite found it for use against their enemy, the Tolmekians. They both remain oblivious to the sheer destruction that can be caused by this Giant Man and they don't care either. Despite the balance between humans and nature being a delicate one, instead of trying to rebuild together, they justify to themselves that the war is necessary for self-preservation and to put humans back on top of the food chain.

In their hubris, the Tolmekians and their princess Kushana believe that with the help of their superweapon they can destroy the Sea of Decay despite knowing that it will trigger the wrath of the Ohmus. The Giant Man however is not complete and hence, though the devastation is great, the final giant man dies and all that is remains to be done is to calm the wrath of the Ohmus.

Nausicaä saves an Ohmu child who was injured by Tolmekian soldiers to lure the Ohmus into a war. She saves the baby Ohmu and sacrifices her own life to calm the sea of maddened Ohmus. The now-calm Ohmu then revive Nausicaä, symbolising the mystical healing power of nature and its ability to support and create life.

Nausicaä is an excellent protagonist, and how the trope of the chosen one is utilised is beautiful and full of symbolism. Right from the get-go, we see her being inquisitive and brave. She is willing to defend her people but not through violence. And it is made abundantly clear that her avoidance of violence is not due to any lack of strength; when she strikes down the soldiers who killed her father, rather than feeling any sense of pride (as one might expect from a character not used to strength), it sickens her. She shows understanding even towards Kushana, whose men took over her kingdom. She sincerely loves and respects animals and plants.

There was a prophecy among the people of the valley of wind that a person clad in blue over golden fields will save their kingdom and bring peace. And towards the end of the film, Nausicaä's clothes becoming blue with the blood of the baby Ohmu she saved and the golden fields being the tendrils of the Ohmus healing her is poetic to say the least.

In addition to a good female protagonist, we also get a powerful female antagonist in Kushana, who starts out as a one-note expansionist ruler, but it is revealed that she lost her limbs and got severely maimed by the sea of decay, motivating her to destroy it once and for all. Proud and arrogant, sure, but she has a motive beyond just wanting power and possesses some form of a moral code. In another story she could be the protagonist bravely defending humanity against the evil, alien-esque trilobites and spores.

It was a unique and meaningful choice on Miyazaki's part to symbolise nature through the Ohmus—alien-looking giant insects—instead of something cute and fluffy. Oftentimes humans care more about the conservation of animals that they find cute (pandas over, say, Panamanian golden frogs), but an animal doesn't have to appeal to human aesthetics to be worth conserving.

Absolutely not to be missed is the breathtaking soundtrack by Hisaishi. There are symphonies, techno music, sitar-like instruments and a child's humming, all elevating every scene to give a moving experience.

Ultimately it is an ambitious story that aims to deal with themes of coexisting with nature, the futility and dangers of war, and of how innocent children who should live carefree lives are dragged into it and made heroes. This film is often categorised as falling into the genre of Solarpunk: a literary and artistic movement that centres around building a sustainable future interconnected with nature and community. Although this film does depict violence and wars, it ultimately shows a peaceful future is possible.

Truly a masterpiece. 9/10.

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0v3rcast · 10 months

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Gnaw (4)

You stand at the precipice of Liyue. The land of Geo. The resting place of a corpse-god, the dragon Rex Lapis, and the home of Archon Zhongli.

Though some part of you hopes that they'll be less hostile, you can't help but feel that Liyue will simply be more of the same.

More suffering. More death.

But now you have a gift. A way to protect yourself. The symbol of one of your loyal creations, and a font of power from which to draw destructive energy. You are not alone. And you will not fall so easily.

You step through a boundary, a line between the nations, and the world changes. Suddenly, the sky does not feel so vast. The air feels thinner, and the ground beneath your feet feels... denser. More present. As though the soil and stone of Mondstadt was gravel.

You take a few moments to breathe, to aquaint yourself with lungs that go unaided by Anemo, and begin walking.

Somewhere in the distance lies the Stone Gate. You decide to avoid it and the people of Liyue as best you can.

You decide to experiment with the abilities you now have so you can defend yourself if need be.

First, you should probably learn to sense them, starting at the symbol upon your wrist.

After a minute of concentration, you feel the faintest twitch of static in your veins. The subtle hum of energy that now calls you home.

You move the energy sluggishly, slowly convincing it to travel along your veins, and it proceeds to gain speed.

By the end of your first hour of 'training', there is a storm in your chest, your heart pounding thunder down your ribs, your blood singing with voltaic power.

It feels good.

You are unaware that special organs are rapidly growing in your dermis and flesh to allow you to conduct electrical energy safely.

You are unaware of the way billions of neurons are rearranging themselves to make your use of this power instinctive.

You are unaware of the way your entire nervous system is editing itself, allowing you to pump your body full of electro energy without a cost to your health.

You are unaware that you could now shrug off chewing on a power plant generator's active primary circuit or that you would register lightning as nothing more than a mild annoyance.

What you are aware of is the ball of lightning hovering over your hand. You grin, victorious.

(Electro watches from their throne at the peak of existence, smug smile on their face.)

Your doppelgänger howls in agony as they carve a spiral into the space between their shoulderblades with a blade that oozes molten gold.

They cannot allow themselves to be discovered as a false God. To be revealed now would be a waste of all their work.

To lose the luxuries they rightfully deserve is so horrible a fate that they'd rather maim themselves to keep up the illusion.

Soon, their acolytes will arrive.

They command that their 'imposter' shall be killed on sight.

Five Archons obey.

(They do not notice the way their Gnosis begin to dim.)

You spend two weeks slowly navigating the terrain of Liyue and exploring your new abilities.

You've learned to weave the energy into your limbs to vastly speed them up. You've learned to push that energy into your nails and teeth, turning them into vicious claws and fangs.

You've learned to push the energy into your brain to increase your reaction time and slow the world around you to a crawl.

Days of travel are collapsed into mere hours as you become a purple-streaked blur that rushes across the terrain fast enough to run up cliff faces and across water.

...you've also had countless bloody noses and scraped limbs, gotten enough dirt in your mouth to fill a flowerpot, choked on a multitude of flying bugs, and nearly drowned trying to water-walk.

Fruit and vegetables are bountiful, but you can't quite shake the urge to find some new small creature and bite down into it and fill your mouth with delicious red-

No. You are better than your urges. You are a person, not an animal, no matter how tempting the idea is.

Unfortunately this peace does not last.

You run across a small patrol of Millelith members, each bearing a weapon of some sort.

"Fuck," you hiss, ducking into the treeline to hopefully avoid being found. It's too late.

One of them cries out in alarm, and the entire group is instantly alerted to your presence.

You learn from the orders their leader is barking that you are now to be slain on sight.

Spears are leveled in your direction, arrows are nocked and readied, clubs and greatswords rise.

You easily avoid the arrows, your body humming with electro energy, and the first to swing their blade at you is met with a spear of lightning through the brain, their body writhing violently at the end.

You dispel the spear and dodge a mace, giving the woman bearing it a blast of electrical energy straight to the face, turning her head to ash and instantly killing her.

An arrow slices your side as you toss the headless body away from you, and the wound immediately begins to sizzle as it mends in a golden scar.

You reach into the head of the archer from a distance and send a jolt of power into his brain, flash-frying nerves and swiftly ending his life.

You don't remember ever being as clumsy and slow as they are before you had Electro. Are humans this pathetic, or are the Millelith just awful?

Five more stand in your way.

You gather the charge within your gift and send it out as a bolt of raw electro energy.

The leader is hit, but does not die. They are instead surrounded by a potent magnetic field. The metal of their armor and the metal of their squadmates attract to each other, and they're slammed together.

The five of them struggle to part themselves, pathetically squirming in place. You put them out of their misery to save them the embarrassment.

As soon as that's done, the gravity of your actions hits you. You just killed eight people.

You're horrified - but they were going to kill you first, weren't they?

Should you feel horrified for defending yourself from people who wanted you dead?

...should you feel anything for these people? Some part of you still desperately clings to the idea that this is all some fucked-up dream or a game.

It ceases to matter when elemental energy erupts right in front of you, and Kequing lunges out of a teleport to cleanly slice off your head.

As your vision begins to blacken, and the world drifts away, you watch your headless body stagger backward a few steps and then drop.

"Maybe next time," you mutter without sound, as the darkness swallows you.

Deep purple blood oozes from the stump of your neck as every trace of your corpse disintegrates.

("I will put you back together, my maker," whispers the Abyss. "I will always put you back together.")

((Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead

#sagau gnaw #sagau cult au #genshin impact #genshin sagau

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 1 year

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Demon Knight: Odel 2

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Part 1 | Part 2

A/N:

I wasn’t expecting the number of likes from the previous part, and I want to thank everyone for the kind comments! I’ve been a bit low and didn’t think it would get any likes, so it means the world!

I honestly didn’t know how else to write it, apart from the two of you discussing what to use as a ring.

Ad Laetitiam et Pacem Part 2

Sir Odel was a mighty knight indeed: armed and readied for anything to protect you with.

He was one to keep you close and possible enemies away: lending travellers little or no sight of you, pretending the Whitehaven Hold was merely a sight of ruin. You opted for a life of seclusion, finding it rather quaint not having servants at your whim, and the title of runaway seemed to suit your needs.

Odel was a great companion when you needed one in the loneliness: learning more and more about him by the day. He told you of the previous lord he watched and protected, his family, the life he lived and how he came to the pact of defence.

Turns out, it had been a usual occurrence for a demon like himself to make a living out of service to another. He had been a lessor lord in the underworld, a knight bound by service and duty.

He was older than you imagined, older than the soil of the world, borne before all life was created.

“What you’re offering to me,” Odel began, watching as you knitted by the well-lit fire, occupied in thoughts and peaceful silence. “this marriage pact, do you have a ring?”

You snapped up to look at him. “I never thought of that,” you thought carefully. “I guess I said it at the moment. Usually, a lord provides the ring—that’s what my father told me.”

“Your father is most correct,” he said. “Thought there are other items that can be used to replace a ring.”

“How so?”

“Well, some cultures use a sword, an axe or a great axe.” He stated, polishing his sword. “It is for both to present a sword. It represents a ring to give to one another.”

“That’s rather interesting,” you pondered. “Though I don’t think I have the strength to offer you a sword.”

“How about a dagger?”

You watched as the demon knight unsheathed a dagger from his hip, its hilt as black as obsidian, a ruby gem embedded in its hilt in all of its beauty. “I offer you this dagger as a symbol of our marriage.” He stood, walking towards you, his armour creaking as he went.

Before you, he knelt once more, the dagger held up for you. Cautiously, awaiting, you did not grab for it just yet. “I will protect and swear arms to you. Protect you in sickness and in health. For as long as you may live, your life is mine to protect and love.”

You blushed heavily, gingerly taking the dagger carefully in your hands, observing it in amazement. The blade was unlike anything you had seen crafted, the blacksmiths of your father’s kingdom had never seen the likes of this material, nor did you believe it was of this world.

“Wait—how about this.” you patted yourself down quickly, remembering you could have something to offer. The ring was given to you as a gift of your birth. It was small, but with some string, you found on you, you tied it around the ring, offering it closely to the knight to wear.

“I offer you this ring, as a symbol of our marriage.” You began. “I will keep you close to my table, and provide the needs any husband requires.”

“Requires?” He inquired.

“Needs—erm, like kin?” You hesitated, realising how incredulous you sounded.

Odel was silent for some time before a loud chuckle resonated from his armour, old and powerful. “You shan’t expect that from me.” He reassured. “I swear it.”

You nodded, continuing. “I shall adore you, in sickness and in health. Now until the moment of my death.”

Odel looked pleasured, reassured by your words, embracing the ring to his chest. He tied it around him, and the simple act was enough to make you feel a level of comfort.

Princess you had been, now, forever in peace.

#demon knight #odel the demon knight #princess reader #reader x monster #monster boyfriend #demon oc #Demon Boyfriend #monster writing #monster x reader #monster x human #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #monster lover #part 2 #female reader

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morsmordream · 8 months

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my random HP family headcanons that i firmly stand by

(not canon compliant)

creature blood was remarkably common in the older family lines that existed before modern-day laws. it is rather rare that these families produce true creatures themselves, even half-blooded creatures, but the blood can often manifest into family gifts. for example, creature blood is how the slytherin line have their ability to speak parseltongue.

the black family are world-renowned in various fields. they’ve produced countless scholars, and some of the finest duellists of each generation. but the family specialty, that everyone learns, is curse-breaking and it’s inverse. there’s a terrible item in the family vault that could kill you if you touch it? contact the blacks. you need an object enchanted to persuade someone into supporting a wizengamot bill? contact the blacks. expensive as their services may be, it’s always worth the money. customer satisfaction guaranteed.

the black family have held their reputation for dabbling in the darkest of arts, even black magic, since their very beginning. their family name comes from their reputation of practicing black magic. this is separate from dark magic, and is a dead art today. whilst books exist in the darkest corners of very few family’s vaults and libraries, the sacrifices required have deterred anyone who picked them up for centuries. a branch of black magic involves the summoning of beings from beyond our world, ‘demons’ as they are often referred to. the summoning of a shape-shifting demon, and subsequent procreation with, is a potential reason why only the black family have metamorphmagi in britain today- though this claim is unproven, and no longer proudly claimed by the family itself.

the malfoys have veela blood, especially these days. it was a rather scandalous affair when abraxas malfoy married a french witch, amelie bonnacord, who had been adopted into a notable pureblood family and happened to be a veela. the malfoys already had distant veela ancestry, making abraxas resistant to the veela allure. their children, lucius and lydia malfoy, were therefore half veela, and her grandchildren, including draco malfoy, a quarter veela. the veela allure seemed to work differently with men, and little was known about it as men born to those with veela blood was rare. the malfoys spend most holiday seasons in france, visiting family, and all speak fluent french.

the potter family never have been, and never should be seen as, a sparkling beacon for light magic. as necromancers by blood, no matter how much time passes since their amalgamation with the peverells, they naturally lean towards darker magic to facilitate practicing the art. not every potter has dabbled in their family gift, it’s not a requirement, but the ancient books in the family vault cannot be destroyed and will always return to the vault after a necromancer passes.

a few centuries into the past, the potter family migrated to india before a couple of branches returned to britain in the early 20th century. fleamont potter and his cousin, charlus potter, were the first potters to be born on british soil for centuries. fleamont potter married euphemia patil, a half-indian british witch, and had james potter. james potter, upon marrying lily evans, had harry potter- who was half indian.

the lupin family have a long history of naturally born werewolves, hence their family name. as time went on, and laws changed, werewolves born into the family would assimilate into packs instead of living as wizards with a dark secret. with time, fewer and fewer werewolves were born into the family, and the werewolf blood appeared dormant. remus lupin became a werewolf through an attack from fenrir greyback- the first werewolf in the family in several generations. his condition did not pass onto his son, but it is possible that remus being a werewolf may awaken the possibility of future werewolves in the lupin line in generations to come.

the weasleys hail from an old irish clan, one which they no longer practice the traditions and magic of- deeming them outdated in an age where they are deemed ‘blood traitors’ for their love and acceptance of muggleborns. the family magic is largely based around the elements, and is only really practiced by bill and charlie- though fred and george dabble in it from time to time. due to turning their backs on tradition, the weasley manor wards refused to grant entry to those in the family who did not practice their family magics- which is why they live in the burrow instead.

the weasleys fall from grace is infamous in pureblood circles. before the first war, they were actually a rather wealthy family. arthur weasley’s auror wage was enough to live off with two less children, and their vault was plentiful. molly added to their income by authoring books on household charms and tutoring pureblood daughters in etiquette. unfortunately, molly encouraged arthur to funnel money into the order of the phoenix to help with the war- they were not active participants, rather financial backers. by the war’s end, the family vault had been halved, they had two more children, and molly had quit authoring books to raise the children. she soon quit tutoring too, turning her back on other pureblood families due to her paranoia that anyone who hadn’t aided the order in the war were all dark and thus contributed somehow to her brothers deaths. soon after, arthur left the aurors and moved to head the misuse of muggle artifices office at molly’s insistence, due to her persistent paranoia- this time that something horrible would befall him as an auror. this caused another significant drop in the family’s finances, gaining them their reputation of being a poor family with more children than they can clothe.

the nott family are descended from viking clansmen in norway, and the majority of the family are still based there today. they’re very proud of this heritage, and every child born into the family is trained extensively in hand to hand combat from a young age. the nott family additional pre-schooling education also includes the language of old norse, nordic history, ancient runes, and runic magic. the england-based branch of the family add norwegian on to this as well.

the gaunt line, and subsequently the slytherin line, are only extinct in britain (the cursed child is not canon to me idc about delphini). a branch of the family, descended from one ominis gaunt, live on in france and have long abandoned their practices of inbreeding. the branch or branches of the family that remained on british soil rapidly squandered all that remained in their vaults by the turn of the 20th century, leading the family to financial and societal ruin with only their heritage and a few heirlooms remaining intact.

the lovegood family are rather notable as one of the few remaining seer lines in britain. pandora lovegood, upon marrying xenophilius ollivander, found her own seer ability passed down to her daughter luna. many overlook their seer lineage and focus more on the family’s eccentricity, forgetting that true seers rarely speak in plain language- they cannot always just speak the truth of what their visions show them, they must relay what they have seen in a way that makes others search for the answer. it’s not that hard to understand when you actually try it.

#harry potter #hp fandom #hp headcanon #dark harry potter #hp drabble #harry potter headcanon #harry potter drabble #harry potter fandom #the ancient and most noble house of black #draco malfoy #luna lovegood #house of gaunt #weasley family #remus lupin #theodore nott

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clangenrising · 2 months

Text

Month 12 - Leafbare

Time was hard to hold onto these days. Scorch blinked and suddenly spring had arrived, cautiously thawing out the gardens and poking its flowers up through the soil. If she thought back, she could remember that she had spent the time studying to become an interpreter in between visits from Razor but the actual experiences of those moments tended to feel fuzzy and loose. She was grateful that she somehow managed to hold onto the knowledge of interpreting.

The act fascinated her. Each Name Charm was marked with symbols that the Folk used to convey meaning and slowly, she was learning to interpret it. Confined in her house as she was, Portia wasn’t able to do much teaching so she had put a young molly named Marmalade in charge of teaching Scorch how to understand the symbols.

Marmalade took Scorch through the neighborhood, usually with another cat along to ‘escort’, and showed her the symbols in different places. Now that they were pointed out to her, Scorch couldn’t stop seeing them. They were on the corner poles and the fronts of houses and the sides of cars and nearly every wall in the downtown area had some cluster of them somewhere. Marmalade would teach her what they said and then teach her how each symbol made up a piece of the meaning. She learned how to recognize the individual symbols wherever they appeared in the clusters and how there were two versions of each symbol for some reason.

It was honestly exciting. She couldn’t believe that all her life there had been meaning spread across the surface of the world and she hadn’t even known. When she was at home, when time was the most solid, she would wander around, discovering all of the different symbols in her home and trying to interpret them. They were everywhere, on the food boxes and her dish and flashing across the magic window that her Folk would watch and the pages in the kits’ rooms and the warm thing the adult human pawed at on her lap and even though Scorch didn’t know what some of the words meant, she knew their pieces and that felt like power.

It wasn’t power that helped her much, though. Being an Interpreter did come with a certain amount of prestige. She and Marmalade were sometimes sent to deliver blessings from the Folk. They would go to cats who were ill in their homes or to new mothers and their kittens and bestow gifts upon them. Cats always thanked them and looked up at them with worshipful gazes. They parted to allow them through. Chaff asked them for blessings as they passed and thanked them profusely when Marmalade bid them “be well.” Yes, there was definitely power there, but it never did anything to get rid of the babysitters that followed her everywhere she went.

And it never stopped Razor from calling on her.

Today, after an Interpreters’ meeting in Portia’s garden, he had arrived to collect her, all toothy smiles and pet names and suffocating touches. She purred and fell in beside him and let go of her grasp on time. He’d invited her to accompany him to another meeting, this one about the warfront, and she had agreed.

Now she found herself draped against his side as he lounged in the grass of his own backyard. Several toms sat around in a circle, discussing strategy. All of them, except for Ghost, were Exalted.

“Hunting operations are continuing as planned,” Oreo was saying. “We’ll have to increase our presence, though, if we want to account for spring prey numbers.”

“Do you think we’ll still be able to starve them out?” Razor asked thoughtfully.

“I do,” Oreo nodded. “The Chaff are hungry enough, the only problem is the risk of getting attacked by wild cats. We need to find a way to make it seem like the threat is minimal if we want them hunting in droves.”

Ghost cleared his throat and said, “From what my cats have been saying, most encounters can end without bloodshed as long as we don’t antagonize the Clans. If a cat apologizes and leaves they’ll get a torn ear at most. If you’d like, I can spread the word about-”

“No,” Razor rumbled darkly and Scorch felt her throat tighten. “No, we’re not going to teach the Chaff that they should run from these savages. We won’t show weakness like that when that territory is our right.”

“But, sir,” Ghost shifted uncomfortably, “most of my cats aren’t fighters.”

“Then pair them with fighters,” Razor said as if it were obvious. “If they need protection, give it to them.”

Ghost’s throat labored for a moment before he said, “Yes, sir.”

“I think it might also be a good idea to take a more proactive approach,” said Sardine, a younger tom who had only recently been allowed into these kinds of meetings. “You know what they say: the best defense is a good offense.”

Razor smiled and nodded in his direction. “I’m listening.” Scorch listened too, with bated breath.

Sardine continued. “Part of the reason the Slaughter of Sycamore was such a decisive loss was because our position wasn’t easily defensible. The wild cats had the home turf advantage and, given their surprisingly large numbers, I reason they must have had somewhere to organize themselves before the attack. If we could take that location for ourselves, we would have a much stronger foothold from which to orchestrate our campaign. We could even move a number of chaff to the front full time.”

Scorch repressed a shiver as the image of Razor and his followers carving their way through RisingClan’s camp flashed through her mind. The calm, detached manner in which Sardine said it rubbed her fur the wrong way. It was almost like he didn’t care that he was toying with the lives of cats on both sides.

“And how would you propose we do that?” frowned Tiger, his muscles rippling under his pelt as he shifted forward. “We have no idea how far that location might be and clearly inching our way bit by bit doesn’t work.”

“It could,” Oreo countered. “Another big reason we lost that battle was because of the snow storm and we’ll have all summer to retake that ground.”

“We’ll still be out in the open,” Tiger growled. “I don’t like it.”

“Please,” Razor said, his chest rumbling smoothly against Scorch’s side, “I’m sure Sardine has a plan. Don’t you?” He tilted his head to regard the young cat and Scorch heard the familiar undertone in his voice that said ‘this is a test.’

Sardine smiled and said, “I do. I propose we form strike teams of three to six cats and wait for the ‘border patrols’ to come by then kill as many cats as we can.” Scorch swallowed. “Soon enough, their numbers will weaken and falter and we will be able to find and clear out one of their bases and take it for our own, thus acquiring a proper encampment from which to stage our own assault.”

“Not a bad strategy,” Razor complimented and one of Sardine’s ears twitched in satisfaction. “What do we think, boys?” He looked around the circle, one brow raised. Scorch did likewise, trying to keep her expression passive as she judged their reactions.

“It could work…” Oreo hummed skeptically.

Ghost shifted, a grimace on his face, and said, “This all assumes that they have a fortified location we could use. There’s no way to know if that's the case. They could live in scattered nests or isolated burrows.”

“Who cares,” Tiger brushed him off. “Even if there isn’t some central location we can take over, I think the effort put into the strike teams would be worth it.” He smirked and looked at Razor. “I wouldn’t mind the opportunity for a bit of extermination.” Scorch’s blood ran cold. Tiger seemed to notice and his eyes twitched over to meet hers. She quickly ducked her gaze and leaned away to nestle her cheek into Razor’s fur demurely.

“We would need to be careful,” Ghost said. “The wild cats are a lot stronger than we first thought. I’m not sure many of my cats could go blow for blow with them for long.”

“They don’t need to,” Oreo said simply. “If we get enough of them in a group they’ll be able to wear the wild cats down even if they take losses.” Scorch spared a glance at Ghost to see his jaw working. He was furious. Still, he was hiding it well, she thought. It was only her experience with him that let her recognize the subtle tensing of the muscles in his neck and the way his tail tip was poised to start twitching if he let it.

Razor seemed to notice too and said, “True, but there’s no need to be so wasteful if we can afford not to be. It’s our job to look out for the Chaff, is it not?”

Oreo’s whiskers twitched and he looked down. Tiger huffed softly through his nose.

Sardine nodded and said, “Indeed. Perhaps combat training could be provided?”

Razor smiled. “Good idea,” he said. “Why don’t you and Ghost organize training for the most promising candidates. Once you both feel satisfied with their progress, we can start implementing these strike teams, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Sardine said, glancing at Ghost. Ghost grunted affirmatively, his jaw still clenched.

“Good,” Razor said, moving to stand. Scorch stood as well, pressing close to him and keeping her head low to avoid too much attention. “Is there anything else we needed to discuss?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Oreo said, standing as well. Tiger and Ghost both shook their heads.

Sardine took a step forward. “Actually, Razor, I was wondering if I could have a private word?”

“Of course,” Razor said, jerking his head towards the rose bush in the corner of the yard. Tail brushing across Scorch’s belly, he leaned into her ear and said, “Wait here for me, would you, dear?”

Scorch chuckled to hide the shudder of disgust that went through her. “Always.” His smile widened and he ran his tongue over her cheek and up her brow before gesturing to Sardine and padding off to the rose bush. She was tempted to try and eavesdrop but knew that she wouldn’t be able to get close enough without being seen.

In addition, she had a more important task to see to. She looked over at the others. Oreo and Tiger had started off across the lawn together, talking amongst themselves. Ghost sat still, his eyes closed as he breathed slowly in and out. Scorch cast one glance over her shoulder to make sure Razor was occupied then slipped over to stand next to Ghost. His whiskers twitched as she drew near and he opened his newly scarred eye to look at her.

“What do you want?” he grumbled. His eyes also darted over her shoulder to where Razor and Sardine were talking.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said softly, offering a smile. “I was under quite a lot of stress last time we talked and I did a lot of things that I am not proud of.” She held her breath, hoping he bought it. This part was integral if she was going to accomplish what she needed to.

He scowled at her. “You nearly got me in serious trouble, you know that?”

“I do,” she winced, hoping she looked sufficiently remorseful. “I’m sorry, Ghost. Really.” He stared at her for another long moment before sighing, his gaze softening a touch.

“I appreciate it,” he said, looking her over. She smiled and sat down. Good. He had never been able to stay mad at her for long.

“I did mean what I said about looking out for Smokyrose,” she whispered. “If you helped me escape, I could bring them a warning.”

Ghost shook his head. “And then what? My cats get killed instead? No, I can’t do that.” Scorch felt anger rising in her again. There was always an excuse with him, wasn’t there, some reason why he couldn’t do what she needed him to. She focused on keeping calm, though. Trying to threaten him hadn’t worked at all. She needed to use a softer touch.

She shifted closer, her eyes big and sincere, and said, “Then I’ll tell the Clans not to kill the Chaff. Goldenstar would listen. She took in Scrap despite my warnings. If she can spare a life, she will, I promise.”

“So Scrap is safe then,” he said as if he’d caught her in a lie. Scorch tried not to let her irritation get the better of her. Like he cared about Scrap at all.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “And I can make sure that she stays that way. Both her and Smokyrose.” Instinctively, she brushed her tail tenderly over his, satisfied by the way he tensed and then relaxed under her touch. “Please, Ghost. Won’t you help me?” She tried to make her eyes water as she held his gaze. Hopefully he would prove as predictable as always and be unable to resist the pleadings of a woman who needed him.

She watched him thinking. His eyes darted down to her paws like he wanted to place one of his own on top of them. He leaned forward almost imperceptibly, their whiskers almost close enough to touch. His mouth opened, a hesitant word on his tongue, and she felt her spirits soar. Yes! She had won! She had-

His eyes flickered over her shoulder and a scowl returned. “Razor is watching,” he said. Bile swelled to overtake her lifted spirits and drag them back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew better than to look over her shoulder or quickly fix her posture. She licked her lips and very carefully sat back.

“Think about it,” she said. “You know where to find me.” At this point, she could hear Razor coming her way. She let one ear twitch back, then stood and turned to face him, hiding all evidence that she had been touching Ghost. She smiled fondly at Razor and moved to meet him, butting her head against his chest.

“Ghost,” Sardine said, a dubious tilt to his voice, “Shall we talk logistics?”

Ghost cleared his throat and nodded, standing. “Yes. Let’s.” Stiffly, he turned and followed the younger tom and Scorch cursed him in her head. He was being too obvious!

Razor curled around her, his brows furrowed, and asked, “What was that all about?” As he did, he nosed the fur on the back of her neck and she went rigid at the touch, heart suddenly hammering.

“I was urging Ghost to have faith in your leadership,” she lied, trying to turn her head to look at him, but he opened his mouth and gently placed his teeth against her scruff and she immediately froze again. A purr rumbled through him and he removed his teeth. This time, she stayed exactly where she was.

“Is that all?” he murmured warmly against her skin. “It seemed like there was more to it than that.” He padded slowly around her, always keeping some part of him in contact with her.

Scorch fixed her eyes on the rose bush as she spoke. “Maybe for him,” she said. “You know he never really got over me.”

“Mm,” Razor hummed, unsatisfied.

Scorch swallowed. “But I promise, things were strictly professional. I have no interest in any other kind of relationship with someone like him.”

Razor came back around to look at her face again and she dared to turn her head to meet his gaze. “Not even a little?” he asked, “for old times’ sake?”

“No, of course not!” She promised with a worried expression. “Razor, I’m yours now. That’s all I could ever want.”

Razor looked her over and then sighed with a dejected glance downward. “I know. I just… after you went missing and everything…” He shifted his weight and sat down. “It feels like you sometimes don’t think about how your actions affect me. I do so much to make sure you’re taken care of and it’s like you don’t even care.”

“No, Razor,” she swallowed and stepped in to wrap herself around him instead, “of course I care! I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel that way.” She knew his game. This trick was the oldest in the book. But she had no choice but to play along. “How can I prove how much I love you, honey?”

Razor leaned into her touch with another sigh. “Just… promise you won’t talk to Ghost anymore?” he asked tiredly. “It would make me feel so much better if I didn’t have to worry about him and you.”

“Of course,” Scorch promised, pressing her forehead against his. “If that’s what you want, I’ll try and avoid him.”

“It is,” he purred. “Thank you, Gingersnap.”

“Anything for you,” she swallowed.

“Why don’t I walk you home,” he offered, pulling back to meet her gaze again.

“Oh, that’s alright,” she shook her head. “I can get back just fine on my own.”

“No, no, I insist,” he said, standing up. “I’ll feel a lot better if I know you got home safe.”

Scorch sighed. It had been worth a try. Smiling, she tried to play her reaction off as fondness and said, “Alright then. Whatever you want, dear.”

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Razor #Ghost #Oreo #Tiger #Sardine #Marmalade #Leafbare #clangenrising

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collectivecloseness · 2 months

Text

E.M. Little Mermaid AU

Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: Three days after Eddie Munson dies in the Upside Down, you’re called to make a deal with the not so dead Vecna. One where your boyfriend will be brought back to live a long and healthy life, but after the next three days, you need to receive true loves kiss from him. The only problem is Eddie won’t remember you... and you’ll have no voice. You, and the rest of the party, have three days to make Eddie fall in love with you all over again; especially since you don’t know what power you’ve given Vecna by making a deal with him...

(Notes: Plot loosely based on both movie versions of the little mermaid. Refs to Vecna having a ‘special’ interest in reader, esp in this chapter, but only em/r. Cw: references to character death and trauma)

3 days. It had been three days since Eddie had died in the upside down. And you’d been able to do nothing about it except hold him as he passed.

You had apologised to Steve for slapping him, right after he threw you over his shoulder and dragged you out of the upside down himself because you were still clinging to Eddie. Just wanting to stay with him, uncaring if that sealed your fate too or not.

Steve had of course forgiven you. He was a good man. You could tell he was upset not being able to save his friend also.

But Eddie was more than your friend. He was your soulmate. Your everything. Your future. What would you do now Eddie’s future had gone? Where was your part in the world now?

Nancy had taken the gun out of your hands the moment Steve landed your feet back on the grass and soil, over where the entrance had sealed closed, a gateway through the woods near Eddie’s home. She followed you when you stumbled behind a tree a few steps away. But all you did was hunch your back over, and vomit up your insides onto the ground.

Robin had caught you before you could fall onto your knees into it. And she’d been holding you as Steve held Dustin. You didn’t know what Robin was saying to you. You caught glimpses of what was happening around you, but you weren’t really paying attention.

Eddie was dead. And he wasn’t coming back.

You tried to save him. You’d thrown yourself over him. Your arm had shielded part of his torso as the demobats ripped his stomach open, but it wasn’t enough.

Joyce stitched up your wrecked arm, but you didn’t feel the pain.

Eleven had tried to talk to you. Tried to tug on her older sibling figures shirt. But your eyes remained misty and dazed.

Right up until the moment you burst into tears.

And you hadn’t stopped crying. Not for two days, all you did was cry and scream and choke. You’d had to tell Wayne what happened. He cried with you. But separately.

It was the third night now. You were in Eddie’s room, Robin and Steve staying over today. Wayne couldn’t handle it tonight, he was staying with a good friend, just to sleep.

The first night no one had slept, you’d cried all night in the room where you told Wayne his nephew- his son was dead.

The second you’d stayed in Eddie’s bed. Face buried in the dirty laundry that still smelled of him all over his pillows and covers, sobbing as you looked over the pile of his trinkets and collections all over his room. His room had once been your entire world, because it was just so Eddie. You couldn’t bare the thought of any of it being gone, Wayne moving any of it, because you couldn’t deal with the fact Eddie was gone.

You kept the necklace Eddie gifted you close to your heart, as you had since the moment he’d clasped it around your neck. Pressing a kiss to your ear as he did so - you could still feel the tickle from his laugh, his lips against your ear, his hands warm and always so loving pressing on your shoulders, after his fingers daintily brushed away any of your hair that may get caught, in case you got hurt, twirling your hair around his rings.

Eddie told you you could fill the locket with anything you wanted. He’d even offered up the thought of chopping off a lock of his shaggy mullet, a thought he’d have once been mortified by. Now you wished you’d taken up the offer, but you still liked what it held instead.

Opening the pendant up, at least you would be able to still see that picture you took of Eddie. Smiling, that smile he only ever gave because of you, one that anyone upon looking would immediately be able to sense the love radiating from him in the photo, from the moment it was taken. His big doe brown eyes, those ones you missed staring back at you so much, looking right at the camera, at you every time you looked at it. It felt like he was looking into your soul, even when he was still... And with this you could hold him to your heart, always.

Right now as you lay motionless, unable to cry much tonight, you looked over at Eddie’s vast collection of guitars. Electric and acoustic. You always thought he was so musically talented, and you told Eddie so.

You weren’t nearly as good. Although there was one song you’d always sing to him. You didn’t have the words, but it was a melody. You couldn’t remember if you’d heard it somewhere before, if it was a lullaby, or a song you’d made up as a child, but- but you’d always hum that tune to Eddie when he was sad. It made him feel comforted. That small chorus of notes. You’d sing that melody to him every time Eddie needed it. Your throat felt dry thinking you may never sing it again.

You’ll never see Eddie again.

You’ll never see Eddie again...

You didn’t remember closing your eyes, you had been so exhausted not even the last three days, but all the time spent trying to help Eddie before you failed him. But suddenly you were dreaming. Well, you thought you were at first. But then it all felt so real.

“Eddie?.. EDDIE!!!” You run over to where you see Eddie walking towards his trailer. Wayne is standing by the door, well worn cigarette dropped on the floor in shock.

And Eddie, your Eddie, is turning around, looking all over, confused, but unharmed. “Y/n?”

You cheer silently, a gasp leaving your massive grin, as you run over to Eddie. Feeling so soothed the moment he wraps his leather clad arms lovingly around your body, his ringed and clean hands immediately burying themselves in your hair, as Eddie always did... does.

Your face is buried into Eddie’s dark curls. A whimper leaves your lips. Eddie’s conditioner smells just the same, and you can catch his sweat, but no grime, in his scent too, pressing your nose and lips to his neck as your chin rests on his black leather jacket, eyelashes fluttering against his mulleted hair that tickles them. And you’re happy.

Eddie’s back! You have to tell everyone!!

Your hands tighten around Eddie’s waist. And while he pulls you in closer, he still doesn’t hurt you with his grip. Ever tender with you, his love. You press a shaky, teary, kiss to his neck, tasting your own salted tears over the small hairs there, and you sink into Eddie’s embrace, ready to look back once more at your boyfriends gorgeous face.

Only to find he doesn’t have one.

You fall back to the ground with a scream caught in your throat, your hands hitting the stone hard dirt as you look at Eddie, pale, faceless, a blur of nothing, just a shape behind perfectly familiar curls, standing above you aimlessly.

The flash of his face, that face, only lasts a moment. And you’re remembering how it felt having Eddie back. The need to tell everyone he was alive still so pertinent.

That need still, the sound of your thoughts, “Eddie’s back... you can see him again” echoey but not unpleasantly loud. The knowledge of Eddie being in your arms just a small step in the future away, they all stay deep in your gut, as demobats swirl above you. No blood on their mouths like the last time you saw them. The sky just red and blue, as it had been down there three days ago. As the same voice you thought you defeated calls to you, to let you know that he promises what you intially experienced just then was real...

Your whole body jolts on Eddie’s bed, finding yourself still facing the side, only a minute or two having passed on the dragon alarm clock you bought Eddie four months ago.

Steve and Robin were still in the kitchen, you saw the light through the slit in Eddie’s door. Wayne still gone for the night. And with everyone out the room, you knew what you felt, what he told you was real.

Vecna had released you. And you can still hear him.

When his voice tells you to follow the bats, you peek outside Eddie’s worn out curtains, and find two demobats, out of place in this world, and in their nature, sitting idly on Eddie’s front lawn. Just waiting for you. Even though they’re what killed Eddie, you still follow.

Still wearing regular clothes, one of your favourite shirts of Eddie’s on your torso, your necklace under it, you quickly slip on your shoes by his bed without even looking, and make your way to the open space of his trailer.

Steve and Robin immediately stop talking, both turning to you with that same look they’ve had for two or three days now. Not that you’re looking much place else other than the door.

“Hey!.. Hey y/n.”

“Hey man.”

Steve and Robin both greet you, quietening down as their bodies relax while talking to you. Just wanting you to be safe, and knowing right now you need their support more than ever.

You give them a quick nod, but you know you can’t go out there and follow those demobats without getting Steve and Robin uninterested in your comings and goings.

Your friends were eagle eyed looking out for you at the moment, all of them. And you were thankful that your friends were so loving, but right now, you knew you had to get out there.

And so you turned to your biggest target first, Steve, before your eyes had to look anywhere else, to not see all the emotion swimming in his soft brown ones. “I’m just taking a walk. I need to stretch my legs. Get some fresh air in my brain. I don’t think I’ve been feeding it anything else.”

“We- We’ve got pizza!” Robin offers, bringing over a half eaten pizza box from lunch. As they’d all been trying to find quicker ways to eat, to shower, to sleep, because dealing with their traumas right now was time consuming enough.

“Yeah! Let me make you an energy smoothie or something, get some pizza with Robin, like she said.” Steve enthuses, pressing a hand to Robin’s shoulder and giving her a nod, one she gratefully returns; both turning around to do their tasks for you in sync, before you interrupt them.

“No I’m fine. Seriously guys, I just need, like, ten minutes of walking.” It would probably be longer than ten minutes. But you needed them to let you out the house. And they couldn’t exactly be mad at you for lying to them with what you were going through right now.

“We can go with you! Or just one of us, silently.” Steve says enthusiastically, although that last part directed right at Robin. But you shake your head before he can go on, your eyes flitting to the closed curtain on the trailer door as you try to see if they’re still waiting.

“No, guys, I-“ your hand goes to your chest, breathing stuttered. “I just need some time alone with my thoughts. Please. I promise they’re not the self destructive kind. I just need to think.” You looked to both of them, eyes serious.

Steve looks nervous. His eyes a little wider and his lip more bitten, like he already knows he wants to say no, but he’s not sure how to do it without upsetting you any bit. Until Robin surprises him by pressing her hand to his wrist, and stepping up. “Okay. Ten minutes. Try and stay in the trailer park, and like, yeah, if it gets over ten minutes we’ll come to find you, but that’s okay. Just yell if you need anything, alright?”

You were too grateful to be leaving quicker than you could say a thank you, too quick out the door to see Steve giving Robin a look like he wanted to intervene, before she shook her head. Moving towards the window silently, to peek open the curtains, and Steve immediately understanding her.

Inside the park or not, Steve still needed to reassure himself over your safety, so did Robin. Getting his shoes on and kicking Robin’s towards her silently, both grabbing their makeshift weapons still by the front door of the trailer, just in case, Steve too protective not to right now, they both followed you out the door quick enough to see your back moving through the dark trees of Hawkins.

You had stopped dead in front of the demobats, waiting to see if they’d rip you apart just like they did Eddie.

Especially now they were intruding on his home, right after they’d stolen everything from him.

But instead they’d just... looked at you. The feeling was odd, making your skin crawl. Before the nearly identical demobats looked at each other, then chirped nightmarishly before swooping into the sky, gliding at a slow pace above you, to make sure you followed along.

Settling your heartbeat in your chest, at hearing that cry again, the last time you heard it being as Eddie’s own cry joined the chorus, you tried to steady yourself as you followed them. The vision of Eddie, back in your arms, back home - and his voice still looming in your head - causing you to follow.

You went through the woods, following them the whole walk until they took you to a patch of land closeby you knew well from experience was an opening. The one you’d narrowly escaped from three days prior. Leaving Eddie down there.

Robin and Steve had followed along, silently, even as they saw the demobats. They were just glad they’d brought their weapons. They stayed tight knit with each other, not knowing why you were following, if you were under Vecna’s trance again or something, but sneaking along to make sure you would be alright. They knew how ruined you were after Eddie. But they wouldn’t lose you too.

It was only until they saw where the ground had opened up underneath the swirling demobats, and saw you watching the creatures, before looking in the hole, that they yelled.

“Y/N NO!”

You jumped. And Steve and Robin screamed.

They ran right up to where you were, and without a second of hesitation, gripped onto their weapons and each other’s hand, as they leaped into the opening to the Upside Down behind you.

Following the demobats, you shivered as you walked through the upside down, the hellscape you thought you’d all defeated just a few days ago. Not that you could care too much that it was still here right now, not when you were too caught up in having lost your everything to attempt to do so. Now it seemed like it was all for nothing.

The demobats flew slowly so you could carry on at your pace, gliding above you as they lead you. Such a different temperament to when they were all... descending.

They were going to lead you past that spot. You knew it was coming up. So you had to do all in your power to keep your head down, and have your eyes still following the shadows of the monsters in this dim and hellish world. You couldn’t see Eddie like that. After three days. With all those wounds. You gently stroked your healing arm, nervously. And if you did look and he wasn’t there... You didn’t realise you’d been hyperventilating until you heard your own breath.

The noise finally louder than your own thoughts, upon noticing you quickly fought to regain control, a hand on Eddie’s necklace pressed to your chest as you sped up a little, it giving you some bravery as his picture, his gift, reminded you of why you were being brave, and following the demobats as you focused on breathing. They’d already destroyed his body when he was alive, you didn’t want to think of anyone hurting your boy more even after his suffering was supposed to have ended...

Steve and Robin followed close by, weapons ready, bodies never not touching each other, wanting to stay side by side to not be separate, so their platonic other half wouldn’t be hurt. Keeping them safe. Following you silently, as they scanned the place you were heading.

Truthfully, Steve and Robin don’t know what they would do without each other at this point. They’re the only one who... They almost lost each other, so many times the last couple of weeks. It really seemed like they could never rest, now they were back here again. Arms brushing even as they try to stop their weapons from clanging. They’re going to get each other, and you, out of here, together.

They make that promise to themselves each time they make eye contact with their best friend, while they both follow you covertly.

Your breath became a little stuttery as the demobats swooped closer, more at your shoulder height now, and you were lead to an opening, like a rock formation, maybe even a cave, in the woods. Not like the one Eddie used to take you though. This one was bigger... and you’d never felt frightened being with Eddie.

Not until the end.

Now as you saw who was waiting in the entrance, you’d never felt fear like it. Again, until you remembered how you had with Eddie. How nothing could be worse than that memory. And you felt rage, as you were face to face with the human, and smiling, form of Vecna. Alive, and waiting for you, with patience and intrigue.

“Hello y/n.”

You wanted to scream. That’s all you wanted to do. Your anger, your fear, your guilt from your entire life, the way you’d lost Eddie, how unfair it was for him to still think of himself the way he did when he died, when he was one of the best people out there, the way Eddie had died, a hero, just to help defeat this man. This monster. And here he was standing, smiling at you. Both alone.

You wanted to run over there and punch and claw and kick at him until your lungs were raw and your tears made you blind. But better instincts kicked in, and even with all your rage, you knew what was happening here was not right. Your feet took a step back on the, now vineless, rocks, but a woosh of wind from those monster creatures behind you pushed you forward.

Instead of cruelly thinking to yourself how these mutts would be the death of you just like your love, you kept moving forward. And you stood in front of Vecna, Henry, 001, Peter, whatever, you stood in front of him, and you did not falter.

“Why aren’t you dead?”

A smile blossomed through his teeth, and the demobats stayed quiet, behind you, by the entrance. As Vecna circled a position of stones laid by his feet, you circled too, never wanting to let him get you off guard.

“Well that’s a lovely greeting. And here I was wanting to be your friend.”

Robin held her hand on the back of Steve’s, seeing him bouncing in place ready to burst in and tear you out of there, as they got to the entrance upon hearing voices. Both of them felt nearly as awful as you did, seeing Vecna back, alive, smiling. But they stayed put, waiting to see what was happening, even though it killed the both of them to watch him close to their friend. The trauma locked away as they determined to stay strong in this moment for you. They knew you’d need it.

“I’m not going to be friends with you.” You spat, your teeth grit so hard in your mouth you were starting to taste blood. That or the memory of this place was bringing back old senses falsely alerted.

“Oh no? Well that’s a shame. Not even when I’m here to give you a gift?” Vecna cooed, his head tilting, still never taking his eyes off you.

You stopped walking now. Blinking, you took in his words. They were of course teasing, but the actual meaning didn’t seem so to you. You’d met this more human version of Vecna in visions he’d given you before. When you were all at war with him. This seemed like some sort of form in front of you, not just in your mind, although you knew Steve, Robin and Nancy destroyed his physical body. But here was what was left of him. And you could tell his words had some truth behind them.

“What would you have for me?” You questioned, knowing there was only one thing you’d want. Knowing, you didn’t know enough to be able to tell if he could actually give you that, in any way, at all.

Until his words worked with your thoughts, perfectly.

His eyes shone, and his smile never once faded, as Vecna answered you “The only thing you truly want.”

Your heart thumped, a ticklish feeling in your chest like electricity. Feeling it was hard to move your fingers, or your feet, or even to move at all. Just stood there in the face of Vecna’s proposal.

“Eddie’s dead.” The words hurt to say, but you couldn’t afford to be weak around him.

“Mm, right now yes, Eddie is.” Vecna tilted his head, some spark of delight in the conversation. A twinkle of knowledge. “As dead as all the others you and your friends lost. But Eddie doesn’t have to stay that way.” Vecna could practically feel your emotions rushing hot through your body. And he loved it. “What if that were to change? What would you do, to bring Eddie back?”

You tugged Eddie’s shirt further down your shoulders, trying to wrap yourself in it, hoping he’d protect you from this cold chill you weren’t so sure was just to do with the Upside Down. “You can’t do that.”

“OF COURSE I CAN!” Lightning boomed and struck wildly outside. You gasped shrilly as you span to see it, the red and white flashes like claws striking the sky, the two demobats flying and squawking up above the cave like formation’s high ceiling, in place. Unable to see Robin and Steve ducking down, cradling their weapons and each other at this display.

You’d noticed the lack of vines, only two demobats here, but the lighting, his form being here... Clearly Vecna was back in business. If not slightly stunted by you and your friends escapades. By Eddie’s help. Maybe that’s why he had ‘devolved’ to making deals with you.

Vecna calmed as the storm did, a tonal blue outside, even if still dark, as he smoothed back his wavy blonde hair. Smiling at you once again.

You took a step closer, your eyes squinted and questioning on him, but your mind only swirling with Eddie’s face again. Not the vision Vecna had shown you, but your own thoughts. Eddie right back at home, with you, as he deserves to be.

“What’ve you got to lose?” Vecna asks, his voice a soft fry. “I know why Nancy Wheeler took that gun off you so quickly when you got back. Surely you’d do anything to bring Eddie back, where he rightfully belongs. So young to be torn away.”

You swallow. Hands trembly, but body firm, as you remembered the past three days of torment. Knowing how you would’ve give your life for him, right then and there, but you couldn’t go back and change things. How you might’ve even been able to live with yourself tearing the whole town apart, if only Eddie had survived it. And if Vecna has even a chance of what he says he can, what wouldn’t you give?

“You... Can you really do that?” Hope, for the first time in three days, is layered in your voice. Deep under your show of strength, and concerned distrust. But it’s there enough for Vecna to be able to discern it immediately. He knew it’d be there anyway. You really were so easy for him to get.

“My sweet soul, of course I can. Why would I invite you to my home if I couldn’t do what I’m telling you?” His hand goes to his heart, and yours clench tightly by your sides. “You know you’re special to me. Of course I’ll help you out y/n.”

Steve and Robin move forward, weapons in hand, only to be shocked into silence as the demobats swoop out of nowhere in front of them. No squawking or biting or anything, just blocking them, which to your two friends, was infinitely more scarier once they realised.

Especially once they saw that smirk on Vecna’s face, like he knew. And as he took more comfortable steps towards you.

“Think of it as me turning a new leaf. Helping the miserable, the lonely, and depressed, such as yourself y/n.” He smiled charmingly.

Your jaw flexed to the side as you frowned. Your eyes never leaving Vecna, not that he wanted the opposite, as he stood happily close to you now, explaining finally why he’d summoned you here.

Maybe helping to bring light to why you’d followed so willingly, also.

It’s true you were all those things, but you didn’t think Vecna was turning around so quickly.

Vecna alluded from explaining for a few more seconds, instead pacing in front of you with a coy smile on his face, his finger tapping at his chin. “I know I haven’t been... the loveliest to you y/n. You or your loved ones. They weren’t kidding when they called me, well, a bitch.” He chuckled softly.

You almost could too. You made some kind of sound. Remembering how common a nickname it had been for your party. At least, for a little while. Before.

“But I mean it. This once.” He held his finger up, in front of his nose. “Call it what you like, a change of heart, mending my ways, repenting for my sins, seeing the light, all that shit.” He swivelled sharply, standing still in front of you, hands behind his back, head leaned forward to you.

You stood your ground. Even though his smile reminded you of how... close Vecna had seemed to like to get to you in the couple of visions he gave you. You were surprised when Nancy said he’d acted slightly differently towards her in her vision. Eddie had chimed, more like feared, that maybe you were a ‘favourite’ of his. Which is why he picked you to have those visions a little more than the other four young adults around you.

But now it didn’t matter. Not if he could help bring Eddie back. You were listening to every word intently.

“I can bring Eddie back to you. Fully. The way he was.”

You folded.

Your knees went weak. Having to catch yourself before you could visibly stumble too much in front of him, but also so uncaring to that, now he’d said what he’d said. “Really? You really can? Bring Eddie back properly? Not like a... a zombie, or a possessed ‘puppet’ of yours or-“ your voice was wobbling.

“No just like he was before. Exactly the same Eddie as you know, that is for certain.” Vecna nodded. “Of course, there’s a few caveats to that.”

Your breath flew out your lungs. You didn’t trust Vecna for a second. But the thought of Eddie actually being able to come back... To be brought back to life again...

Steve and Robin dodged through the demobats at hearing this, hearing your voice and knowing what it meant. But they only got a step before the monstrous creatures were back again, this time their wings outstretched in front of the two, and snarling dangerous looks on their faces as they hissed.

“Caveats?” You asked, your eyes tracking Vecna widely as he circled around the pebble grouping on the ground, looking up from them, before motioning you closer with a beckoning finger.

“I can bring him back for three days. The same amount of time he was gone. But don’t worry! Besides anything else, I personally assure you, that if you agree to this, and do everything you need to, that I tell you to do, no matter even if you don’t fulfil the contract in the end, Eddie will stay alive for the rest of his natural life. As if he’d never been so brutally ripped apart alive and murdered in the first place.”

You shivered at his words, and you saw his teeth glimmer in response as his lips stretched further in a smile. But he seemed serious, at least, about that part being true.

“Well, he’ll have a long life granted if he doesn’t, I don’t know, get hit by a car while drunk, or falsely shot for a crime he didn’t do, I’m not making him immortal. Just bringing him back. To you.”

You couldn’t even care about how those last two words were practically crooned at you by Vecna. A man who, you hadn’t really figured out, before he was ‘killed’. You knew Hopper had come back as Sheriff to clear Eddie’s name, although too late, even if it gave some peace to Wayne. But what Vecna was offering...

“However, Eddie won’t have his memories of you.”

This shot your head straight up. Your eyes bulging and your heart stuck in your throat, as you received this information.

Yes, you would do anything to bring Eddie back. And he said just agreeing and doing what he asked right now would mean Eddie would stay alive even past those three days. But the thought of him not knowing who you were... if you weren’t in this situation, with this monster, tears would surely be in your eyes. Vecna wanted to explain his plan it seemed though, so you never got too long to ponder over certain specifics he said.

“By the time the sun sets on the third day he’s back, you need to receive something off of Eddie. Something which will bring his memories back of you, and let you both live out the rest of your lives, as if none of this... nastiness,” Vecna held your hand in both of his, patting, before stroking over the fresh scar across your forearm, “had ever happened...”

You, slowly, pulled your hand away. Still listening, but not wanting to piss off Vecna. His blue eyes shot sharp into yours the moment you even started to pull away however. And even though it did make your heart jump, you held your own hand instead, putting it down by your middle, and carried on trying to get all the information you needed for Eddie. “What do I need to get from him?”

Vecna smiled again. You weren’t sure if it was because he was closer, so you could see him more, but this smile felt different. And as he spoke, his voice was so much more softer, as he practically whispered to you “True loves kiss...”

You shoved his chest, backing up a few steps. Vecna looked offended, brushing off his white shirt, while you felt nothing but loathing rile up in you. “Are you serious? How old do you think I am, six? What-“

“Stop talking and listen y/n.” He snapped coldly again, his lips thin, and face sharp.

You did as he said. Closing your mouth, but continuing to stay those few feet apart. Your distrust and despite for him growing more and more.

“What I’m saying is true. I’m experimenting with some new power. And who better to try it on than, you?” He sighed, and the way he looked you up and down made you sure he’d be stroking your cheek right now if he was still so close.

“You poor, desperate, thing. Willing to do anything for your poor Eddie, even make a deal with me.” He sighed folornly at you.

You’re unsure if you’ve ever seen him actually almost enjoying himself. Even while still seeming annoyed he wasn’t controlling all your outcomes like you’re sure he’d love to. Although with how close you were to killing him, you guess him being so close to oblivion might have shaken things up slightly.

“What would you get out of bringing Eddie back?” You ask, genuinely curious because surely he doesn’t expect you to think he’d do this out of the kindness of his heart. He’d never shown any liking towards Eddie. He and his bats were the reason he was dead. He killed him.

Vecna paced one more step, before turning to you, and a dark look you’d seen in his eyes too many times in your short experience with him, flamed once more. “Chaos. Power.”

You inhaled sharply, holding that breath as Vecna walked closer, his mouth rambling along with his twisted mind. “Putting everything out of place for once. Changing human nature so it’s not so destructively and uselessly linear.” Vecna riled up, talking faster and darker and louder and confident. “The chaos of putting someone living again back on the earth who wasn’t before, who’s body was going to rot in this place, bringing him back to live his life on that ground again, doesn’t that show my power?”

You weren’t sure you were supposed to answer. You just watched him. Eventually, a small curl upwards of his lips caught your attention. “Of course, using ‘true loves kiss’ as an end all seems quite powerful, for someone like me to do also. Although there’s another reason that is part of the seal.” He partly explained, and you retained it to memory to make sure that was answered later.

“But it’s not just what I get out of it, it’s what I need before I... allow you and Eddie to be my show of power, and I give you this gift.” He smiled charmingly.

A sick feeling crawled through your veins.

“Of course. I can’t believe we got this far into talking without discussing payment.” You rolled your eyes, your arms coming to cross over your chest, even if your mind and soul was open to what he was saying right now.

But you know Vecna’s tricks. You know his soul. If he even has one. And you dryly chuckle, nodding slowly. “I got it, my life for his, right?” You shake your head, biting your lip, with still some sort of smile on your face at the twisted irony.

You wouldn’t go down to Vecna. For the sake of Eddie’s memory.

Not unless there was absolute certainty...

Because while you would, you would do anything for Eddie, in a heartbeat you would trade your life for his, you do not trust Vecna to uphold his end of the bargain, especially in a situation where you can’t check if he has or not.

“No no no that’s child’s play.” Vecna says quickly. Easily brushing off the notion, which you thought was a stickler. You are surprised, and it definitely keeps you listening, with the thought of you and Eddie being back together seeming not so much like a dream anymore.

“That’s child’s play,” he repeated, spat, “swapping one life for another. I told you y/n I want to show power.”

‘Eddie, Eddie, Eddie’

It’s all you can think about. It was louder than your own thoughts. But you tried to make sure none of this was a trick, although you were sure it was in some way. You knew what he was like, what he had done to El, what he could do to you, you tried to be smart enough to make sure Eddie would come back alive, or you’d be able to kill Vecna right here right now.

“Okay. So what do you want?”

Vecna takes those steps closer in your personal space now. You stand strong. But when his eyes slowly linger, down to your throat, and his hand twitches large by his sides, you can’t help but gulp. Your anxiety actually making it worse. Your veins fluttering in your neck as your eyes tracked his from staring at it, to slowly trailing back up to your own, and his lips spreading into a smile as he spoke up, loudly and clearly.

“Your voice...”

You lean your front back, your neck and head extended that way too, as your own hand comes to rub tenderly over your neck. Realising now as you tried to speak, just how hard it sometimes could be. “M-My voice?”

He nods, his eyes flipping from your hand on your neck, back up to yours. “Just for three days.” He poses. As if it’s that simple.

You weren’t the only one struck by this revelation though.

“Y/-!” Steve and Robin tried to call out for you simultaneously. Their weapons pushing back against the demobats, even if they were still several feet away by the entrance.

They were quickly shut up though, as the few withering vines that were left snapped to attention, and coiled themselves throughly over Steve and Robin’s mouths. Wrapping around their bodies enough so they couldn’t fight back, as the ends twisted and turned to shut them up.

Both friends facing each other, terrified, and looking back to you, who still hadn’t noticed your friends who would’ve talked you out of something so dangerous, having followed you, to help you. Terrified not just for themselves but because they knew what you were going through. And that you were fragile.

Luckily for them the vines didn’t squeeze. They just held them there. As if they themselves, were focused only on waiting for your response.

You kept rubbing your neck, thinking about how your breath sounded, how you used to chat and sing and laugh with Eddie. Why Vecna would need or want that. All these thoughts flowing through your head, that and still ‘Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!’, but you had to use your voice while you can, and ask him at least one thing importantly.

“But without my voice, how will I get him to remember me? Or- or fall in love with me again?”

“You’ll have your looks!” Vecna says, in a way that sounds oddly unlike him, but also as if he’s mocking you, which does seem slightly more in character.

“That pretty face will do wonders...” He hums, his lips pressing together at the end of his sentence as he looks at you.

You feel that chill in the air again.

“And who needs words, y/n? I’m sure you can attempt multiple methods of yours. Eddie’s kind, isn’t he? That’s what you’ve been trying to teach all the others, in your backwards town, in that ignorant world.” Vecna talks, as if spreading a teaching to you.

You definitely know how he feels about the majority of humanity. Having only interacted with few in his existence, he may be more inclined to inform opinions on those he has met. Including, to varying degrees, you and Eddie.

“I’ve watched you, you’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’re... peppy.” The way Vecna enunciates that last word seems to contain a meaning you can’t be bothered to decontstruct right now.

“It will hardly matter if you and Eddie are truly soulmates, will it?” Vecna asks you, as if he is serious which you know he is not. He seems to twist into showing his discontent for yours and Eddie’s lovey dovey semantics as he moves on, with a smile. “Besides, even without dialogue, I’m sure you can use some body language to entice Eddie back.”

You look at Vecna with disgust. Eddie is not like that. He isn’t, not was you still think with relief, with hope, even as you scowl at the monster who was the reason he was dead. Especially when the way Vecna said it, how he looked you up and down, how this was one of the few times any of you would ever see him smile, it made your skin crawl.

You’d say you knew what men could be like, but you would not call Vecna a man. Not even when he was before. He’s always been a monster. But Eddie is not like that. He wouldn’t see you like that, he didn’t. And your Eddie is not a monster either.

Vecna has that look on his face again. The curious one, where he tilts his head. Even when he seems like he’s trying to be ‘playful’, he just always looks full of anger to you.

“Oh come on y/n. I’ve seen it up there. You don’t need your voice. I mean surely, not for Eddie right?” Vecna twists and twists his words. His eyebrows raising as does the corner of his lips, revealing those shark like teeth, whenever he sees you being pulled in by him.

“Men up there don’t like the girls who gossip and yap and bore, at least, that’s what I heard.” He squints his eyes, smiling as he takes another step forward. You think his eyes are shark like too.

You know he doesn’t know Eddie. It’s very clear especially with his words. Eddie and you used to talk, and talk, and talk. You both loved having someone to just talk to, about anything on your mind, for hours at a time; someone who understood what it was like to want to, someone who listened.

When you took a step back, Vecna changed up his method.

“Eddie though, now he never avoids conversation, he is impressed with how you keep up with him, how you can listen and entertain, how you two fit so well even when talking together unendingly, don’t you love that about him? Do most men live up to Eddie Munson?” Vecna asks you, as if he’s curious for your answer. Not just trying to manipulate you.

You notice he uses the word ‘is’ for Eddie. But you also notice the word ‘live’. Your head feels like it’s burning, everything feels so confusing right now.

Robin and Steve struggle to yell behind you.

“But even Eddie would think you were cute, how could he not, still? He would dote on you just the same as before. Knowing Eddie, he might just trip as he fawns over you being so... quiet.” Vecna purrs, leaning forwards again, so close he can afford that last word to be mewled quietly. And with him breathing down at you, for you to still be able to hear him perfectly.

“If you hold your tongue, it may just save your heart.”

You gulp. Feeling like you’re about to choke on your own tongue.

Vecna lifts one thin finger, and so so gently, brushes it down your pulsing neck, right from the centre of your chin, down gentlemanly to the beginning of your collarbone. Removing his hand afterwards. “Don’t you want to win your prize y/n?”

You hate that your breaths are shaky. Because Vecna can hear them, he can probably feel them on his skin. If he really is here, which you suppose now he is, in some way, since you could feel him too. But you don’t want to gulp either, not this close. So you keep on breathing. Until you have enough air in your lungs to speak again.

“Eddie will remember me.” You say confidently. Certain in your meaning, although your voice not sounding quite as harsh as you’d want it to, although still induitible. Still confident, about Eddie, in front of Vecna.

“Sure.” Vecna squints his eyes as he nods. Backing up again, as he paces around his cave.

For a moment you’re begging to yourself that you didn’t piss him off. Because you need Eddie back. Then you find yourself pissed at not wanting to piss Vecna of all people off. But you swallow your emotions, with a gulp now he’s not looking, because Eddie is more important to you than anything.

You hate thinking this, but you would probably do anything Vecna asks you to do right now, all if it meant bringing Eddie back.

“I need something from you.” Vecna turns, his eyes not on you, but body pacing closer.

A shiver runs down your spine. But you force yourself to stay in place, for him.

“Something from you and Eddie. Parts of you.”

Your body completely freezes now, apart from your heart plummeting to your stomach.

You blink tears out of your eyes, ignoring the tickling of your eyelashes to keep your form strong in front of Vecna, even though now you’re presumably to be faced with your worst fear. Which was definitely not him...

“Where-“ you swallow shakily, your spit feeling vile in your own throat. “Where’s his body?..”

“No no no.” Vecna tuts at you, his finger shaking as he finally looks at you again, with that condescending narcissistic look you’re more used to seeing on his features.

“You’re darling. Not like that. I need something physical from you two, from when Eddie was alive of course. I presume you’ve heard of DNA by now?”

You had. Especially with all the snooping through files at the Creel place, you’d started doing a lot more scientific research then you ever would’ve done at Hawkins High. Especially when planning on how to prove Eddie’s innocence as a back up plan once you’d saved the town. Ultimately it didn’t end up saving him anyway.

You know what it is. The fact Eddie is currently dead you know all too well also. But Vecna can’t be asking the impossible of you this early on.

However when you start to ask, your jaw moving open in confusion, Vecna moves in again, just millimetres from you.

His elbow nearly brushing against your torso as he raises his hand. His eyes trained to your lips. While his hand moved upwards, and gently grabs your chin. His touch cold, but body presence emanating onto yours. Vecna’s thumb slides, caressing up your chin... but stopping before he can touch your lips.

Almost like he doesn’t want to contaminate them.

“There’s still traces of Eddie with you y/n. They will fade soon. Then so will Eddie.”

Your heart beats, trying not to suck in your lips, your body warming in thought you still have Eddie’s touch you on, his live touch. His last kiss still lingering with you, living on, even three days later. Even now he was gone.

The mix of your fluttering emotions tingling throughout your body doesn’t change the fact Vecna is still so close and grasping you, still looking to your lips with wicked desire.

Desire for his plans you’re sure. Although you’re not sure what else your lips may hold of interest to him.

“And that’s why our kiss can also break the seal?” You ask, chin upturned, mouth barely moving with his hold, but your eyes nonplussed at him, except for determination of your goal.

“True loves kiss.” He interrupts seriously. Moving his eyes to you, from your lips finally, although his fingers still graze under your chin. “They’re very different things. I need that to prove my power, love defeating death and all those things you don’t need to know about. So that’s what will break it in our little contract.” Vecna finally let’s go of you.

You rub your jaw with gritted teeth, while Vecna backs up a step, not before you take a breath.

“Why? Just for power?” You ask again. He did seem a lot weaker than before. Especially if he was just... talking to you like this, making a deal like he said. Then again, you thought he was dead. But if anything could bring Eddie back.

Vecna nods, but with a tilt in his head, hands held in front of him. “There is one last thing yes.”

He doesn’t need to take a step forward this time. He only leans in.

“If you don’t succeed, you belong to me.”

Robin and Steve barely have time to glance into each other’s panicked eyes, before their wrists and legs are fighting at the vines. Robin trying to grab a weapon from Steve’s bag even with her arm ensnared, Steve trying to kick a rock at one of the demobats hissing in his face, even though he’s terrified of the thing. Especially after seeing what they’ve done, taking a bite out of him, seeing Eddie’s body.

But no matter their panic they are clawing at the vines, Robin trying to stamp on one of the demobats tails, just to try and get your attention with the noise; Steve trying to bite through the vine coiled over his lips, while enticing a demobat to attack to hopefully bite at his restraints instead.

The set of best friends yelling furiously into the vines only smothering their cries, not aiming to kill them this time, which partly makes matters worse.

Panic pumps through their body like ice cold blood, dread oozing in their stomachs, fear causing both of them to strain towards the other, their eyes desperate as they look at their best friend, because they know what your answer will be if neither of them get free.

It’s not a question of what you say. It’s if they can stop you in time.

They need to get you to see them now, to get you away, to do something. Both fighting hard for you, like they always would, how they try to. If one of them can just save you, after they failed to save Eddie.

Looking directly at Vecna, lingering in the silence of his offer, you take two steps back. Finally able to breathe, where he wouldn’t be able to draw you in even more. Breathing air not surrounded by him, taking steps back so you can come back to your reality, to what you’re actually surrounded by.

You followed demobats, monsters, the creatures that killed Eddie down here. To the Upside Down. After having a vision, like the ones he gives people before he kills them. You’re in some kind of cave surrounded by skies that are too blue with red lightning. And here you have the devil himself offering you a deal, in front of you. Surrounded in this nightmare place, seeing clearly you have been lured into the dark by the monster you’ve been fighting so hard against; with no Eddie in sight.

Even taking in your surroundings, the back of your mind only knows it’s not right because Eddie isn’t here with you.

“I don’t know.” You take another step, then two, back. Looking at Vecna as suspiciously as you were before he pulled you in. Dread seeping in your own stomach, your hands twitching by your sides.

You could imagine he was tricking you right now. That Vecna couldn’t actually do this. And why would he want that if you do fail? Or maybe that is to motivate you to absolutely not do so? Importantly, if you do complete everything he asks, what would he do with his growing power, if all went well?

You’d sacrificed Eddie for this town once... you didn’t think you’d do it again. That part wasn’t a problem in your mind, not after you’d lost Eddie once.

You feel bad for thinking it, because you know Eddie wouldn’t want you to, God, fuck, you know Eddie would be shaking you awake, screaming at you right now to fucking run, to not be a hero, to not let anything happen to you. Maybe he was yelling it right now somewhere, banging at whatever gates were keeping you two apart. You could almost see him in front of you, see his hands on your shoulders, those dark eyes in yours as he screams at you. But that’s an almost, Eddie isn’t here, you can’t see him. But if you knew Vecna would truthfully bring him back - you’d do anything right now right here with him.

Vecna sighs.

You’re not sure if you blink, or keep your eyes closed so dissociated in your mind from the moment you lose time, but you open them with a start when Vecna is suddenly stroking your cheek, his blonde waves tickling your temple as he coos to you.

Drawing you in as your knees weaken towards him...

“Ohhhhh poor confused little y/n. A life so full of tough choices. Everything so much harder now you don’t have your Eddie by your side...”

Tears trickle past your lips, ones you hadn’t even noticed in your eyes. And you hiccup quietly a little as Vecna helps lift you steady, just with that one cool and long palm cupping your cheek.

“But I know what you want.” He whispers softly to you, his voice a rumble.

Your cries are small, in nature and in volume. But with Vecna this close, helping you stand, a lock swats at a warm tear on your cheek, brushing it coincidentally away.

That, for some reason, is what pulls you back.

Tears stopping, even with shiny eyes, you pull back silently. Not stopping walking back this time, noticing the surprised look in his eyes as he watches you retreat. And you don’t stay longer. You lean to turn around, continuing to go - you have to get back. Robin and Steve are waiting. Dustin can’t lose you too down here. All your friends have already dealt with too much trauma. Joyce has been working so hard to save you. Wayne needs someone to mourn with. Your family. Eddie!

“You- you’re tricking me.” You say, voice weaker than you’d want it to be but you’re not controlling your emotions anymore. Your thoughts are finally catching up. As your eyes shine in distrust and guilt up at Vecna.

“Tricking you? No- no I don’t trick. I’m trying to help you right now y/n- I am the only one who’s helping you! Truly doing what you’ve been begging someone for, to listen to what you’ve been screaming for.” Vecna’s head twitches as he tilts it. Confused and irritated over how no one ever seems to believe him. Or understand his ways. He’s helped you, and Eleven, and people always, always-! “I promise.” He speaks. But his voice carries that indignant vex from everyone’s disbelief in it still.

Your gut riles and tightens. “This is wrong.” You say, turning further as you walk, shaking your head of the mourning thoughts of Eddie making you numb to common sense, to that anxiety in your brain that’s been screaming at you to run away this entire time.

Thunder roars above you, and you keep your head down, huddling yourself as you keep walking, your skin crawling at the fact you can feel Vecna’s anger behind you.

“Fine y/n! Forget about the world, and love!” He sneers, the air howling without fresh wind. “Go back ‘home’ to your ‘friends’ without him, and never see Eddie again!”

Those words makes you shoot around.

Vecna smirks. He knows he’s got you.

The two demobats swoop out, clearly they were just ahead of you, in the dark close by, but you turn quickly to follow their direction, not seeing what they were distracting you from as you’re turned around. Facing a much bolder Vecna than you’d seen yet.

“Go on and decide y/n.” He sneers, only turning into a smirk as your legs carry you back towards him. “All it will cost is your voice.”

The way Vecna describes it... Eddie is more important than your voice. You’d give anything for him. Even if you were to be without him, if you made this deal, no matter what happened to you, Eddie would be back.

There is no other possible way your Eddie Munson could be alive again.

Vecna stands close to your side, pulling out some kind of contract on a folded piece of paper for you. You raise your brows, even though your mind is fully on Eddie, a twinge of disbelief is shown on your face. “A contract? Seriously?” You ask, genuinely unsure.

Vecna simply shoves it into your hands. He seems to get some type of glee when you hold it. “I need to get that DNA of yours and Eddie’s again, so it was either using this, or...”

His hand running across your cheek, fingertips stretching past your ear gets you to look up from the words on the paper, into his eyes. Unfortunately, they’re back on your mouth.

You can tell it’s purposeful this time though. Vecna seems to delight in making you wriggle. A toothy smile stretching beneath his pink lips when you shrug out of his hold, placing his hand back to his side.

Easily doing so. Your quickly rising and falling chest is for every other reason. As your eyes bore into the paper in your cold hands, knowing in it was the only possible future for Eddie Munson. Rising falling rising falling rising falling, as Vecna talks and talks and talks, while you read and breathe and beat.

“What happened to Eddie is sad. But it happened. Your boyfriend is dead. If you want a miracle to happen you’ve got to pay the price and let me help you y/n. Take a deep breath. Look at it. Who’s around you here to help?! No one! Eddie would be here! But he can’t! You let him die!!!”

You screw your eyes closed. You can’t listen to that you can’t think you can’t not do this you can’t leave Eddie again you can’t do that to him you have to do this with him you have to you can’t not see Eddie again you can’t abandon Eddie to die you have to save him you have to help him now you have to listen you can’t stop listening you can’t let him die.

Vecna smiles up to his demobats, raised above you both in sharp victory.

You have to listen to him you can’t let Eddie die you have to do this for them.

His hand snatches out and grabs your necklace from your collar, throwing it to the ground. It doesn’t break, but opens, to the image of your Eddie, so clear even on the ground like this, smiling up at you. At you.

“This poor-“

Your eyes stay on Eddie’s face.

“Poor-“

Your eyes move to the paper.

“Soul.” Vecna coos.

You don’t realise Vecna’s calling both of you this same thing.

You quickly sign the contract, scribbling your signature on it fast, your blood pumping as you make the choice to be brave. You will bring Eddie back no matter what. Even if you’re giving him to the world, and not yourself anymore. You’re not thinking about you. You can’t even see the words, only Eddie. You need to save Eddie.

You press a kiss to the end of your signature, the wet ink moulding with the spit of your lips. Quickly pulling back the contract and looking at it all. Noticing your wavy signature, not realising until you’d actually looked at what you were writing, you’d signed it with red ink. Until you saw the splotch where you’d kissed it at the end of your name.

Vecna’s eyes had not left you once.

As you’re staring wide eyed at what you’ve just signed, your mouth opening a little in shock, red dotting your lips, immediately a hand is around your neck. You’re cut off with a choke as Vecna grabs you.

He pulls you in close, his nose bumping into your cheek as you panic to stay on your feet, gasping as you feel your neck expand in his cool hands. Your own going to his wrists, feeling the material of his white shirt, his cool skin, the little hairs on his arms, as you try to dislodge his hand a little. Not fighting back as much as you should, one because he was letting you breathe, but mostly because you were willing to let anything happen for this to work.

Suddenly Vecna grabbing you by your throat isn’t as much of an issue, especially since he’s not actually cut off any oxygen, just held you in his grasp; because now you’re distracted by the room spinning, and that definitely isn’t from lack of air flow.

Looking down at your feet you can see the both of you are spinning, and just like Max did, just like Chrissy did, you’re up in the air. Only this time conscious, and with Vecna.

His eyes leer in close as you both raise some inches, continuing to move, his face serious, as his two demobats screech above you. The sound ignited you with terror, panic and trauma from associating it with the sound, the smell, of Eddie’s ripping flesh; and yours under your bandage. But these bats now, they sound like a song out of order, there’s chaos and melody to their shrieks.

Each time you get closer to the sound of their yowls as they fly in the air though, they just raise some more. The storm of the upside down blocking much of your view as you don’t even feel the movement anymore, although that may just be to do with your heart lurching as you go along with this plan, and your eyes held tight on Vecna now.

You feel weird about what’s happening, managing to grab your necklace off the ground without even looking, before you were raised any higher, the winds in the place you thought wouldn’t have any helping you, as you manage to thread your finger through the clasp, small pebbles scratching your arm. You hold it tight before your lose it, the pendant with Eddie’s picture in grasped protectively in your palm, because you know things are happening now.

Your eyes back on Vecna, not fighting his hold on you anymore, just fiercely gripping your necklace of Eddie, you gasp. Breathing deeply as you commit yourself to everything you’re doing right now, planning all this that definitely is trouble, but for Eddie’s life, for what’s right, for the chances he was never given in life and you were fighting to give him now, even though you know what’s happening is wrong, your determination to keep going outweighs any fear that’s howling. Eddie always liked you being a hero, until his final day.

Vecna pulls back distracting you from your head full of Eddie, as you watch his blue eyes move further. His grip loosening, causing you to squeeze onto his wrist. Even as he fully let’s go, you stay in the air. And your breath finally comes back to you when he orders “Sing.”

Words escape you. The only thing you can think of, the only song that seems appropriate in this situation, melancholic, hopeful, and full of meaning and memories of Eddie, is that tune you always used to sing to him.

So you follow Vecna’s instructions.

You sing the melody of the tune you sang to Eddie so many times. When you’d stroke his dark bouncy curls on the couch, once full of life. When he’d hide his face into your chest because he felt safer crying there. When he couldn’t sleep because he was afraid someone would find him and hurt him. When he was afraid of the world. When he was afraid of not being able to show everyone who he really was, before he died.

“Keep singing!”

Vecna yells over the noise inside the rocky structure, noise you’d barely even noticed with your mind so full.

Your focus on the song that was always for Eddie, being for Eddie is such a different way now, as you put your whole chest into it. Raising your voice, and trying to remember the notes just right, even if they didn’t matter to Vecna, they mattered to you and Eddie.

You squeeze your pendant of Eddie tight, willing yourself to be strong enough to do this properly, to be brave for Eddie, like you always were when you hummed this tune for him, to make sure the world didn’t let him down again. You need him to stay strong, you hold onto your necklace with everything you’ve got.

Suddenly that’s when you see it. In the darkness of the Upside Down, of the dark blues and grey clouds and black shadows of this place, you see a ball of light. And as the light moves from your body towards Vecna’s greedy gaze, you’re hearing your own voice getting further away, but feeling your vocal cords move in time. It gives you this sick feeling.

Like something unnatural is being lost, that you can’t produce anything. A sick feeling in your throat, but nothing coming out. That what you’re doing right now, is effecting over there instead. That light should be in your body, and it’s, you’re, moving towards your worst enemy.

Vecna snatches your necklace from your hand, leaving you horrified. You need it back. The picture of Eddie laying close to your heart always, smiling like he was before, looking right at you, from the gift he gave you. Vecna’s hand burning cold on your skin, the chains cutting into your palm, as he steals that away from you.

But then you see your light with your voice going towards Eddie, instead of him, and suddenly, you feel more okay...

Vecna snaps the pendant shut, and you immediately start to feel dizzy.

A rush of dark smoke and red and blue lightning suddenly make outside the cave like structure so crazy, you’re even looking away from Vecna. But when they swirl around you, the smoke and the demobats flying around both you and Vecna in a close loop, you’re looking back to him with horror. Nothing matters but Eddie, but this power floors you, even if you already understood what you’ve signed yourself up for, and still do. Vecna’s using it all on you, he and Eddie are counting on you.

The demobats horrible screeches don’t outweigh the crash and rumble of the hurricane of smoke and lightning you’re trapped in, with your nemesis encaptured right with you. His smirk not on you anymore, but down at your necklace he flips between his fingers. You can only hear the demobats, seeing only smoke and lighting, and Vecna, when the demobats come swooping closer to you both. And then everything is black.

Steve and Robin are horrified as they watch on. The vines immediately withdrew once the smoke started surrounding yours and Vecna’s feet, and everything was too loud and far for you to hear.

Steve helped Robin up, and they grabbed their weapons and they just watched in awe. Weapons ready and pointed, but no sight of you in the powerful haze of elements.

Nothing had attacked them yet, and that left them strong enough to do this, to fight for you if you wouldn’t. But that meant they had to find you first. And now you were trapped up there with Vecna. Robin and Steve couldn’t even hear each other screaming your name, with the booms of thunder and rumbling of this whole world surrounding everything. Let alone you being able to hear them, and know you’re not all on your own.

Until finally, the smoke clears, and you’re only a few feet off the ground, compared to where Steve and Robin were searching up for you before. Luckily enough time for Steve to dive and scrape his barely healing back to hell as he catches you. Landing you on top of him as you fall, which he accentuates with only a cry.

Robin immediately grabs at you, yelling for Steve, as they both hit your cheeks. Robin standing atop with a weapon in hand, and Steve heaving beneath you as he leans over, with you snagged on his chest. Both increasingly hitting you, and shaking you, thunder still quaking as they quickly try and scream your name.

“Let’s go! Steve let’s go!” Robin yells out, red light filling the sky more than the blue cover, shadowing their faces as she helps fireman lift you off of Steve, just to get you up, before he’s on his feet.

“I’ve got them! Let’s go Robin!” Steve yells to her, both of them squinting their eyes from the flying dust and howling wind, as they lean their faces in close to yell. Their hands on each other, and on you, as they yell close to hurriedly plan their escape.

Steve throws you over his shoulder from where Robin was keeping your unconscious body up, and while he secures you quickly with his arm grappling your thighs, they both search around. Robin duel wielding, as Steve manages to hold you over his shoulder, and still hold his axe in another hand.

They can’t see Vecna. There’s no sign of him around. But they’ve got to get you out.

“The wooded path, we should go now!” Robin grabs Steve’s shoulder, both still squinting to see each other, and their way out, before she goes first, slightly lighter on her feet. While Steve still defends her sides, and your back.

Reminded of the time just three days ago he carried you out of the Upside Down like this. Thrown across his shoulder, but this time not kicking and punching and screaming, this time silent. That was worse for Steve. He didn’t think he could feel much worse, but the dejavu of three days ago, in these circumstances, was a lot for him. And this time, you’d managed to do something incredibly dangerous for Eddie, before your friends could stop you...

Both their faces looking to you occasionally, passed out over Steve’s back, your hair slightly obscuring you from Steve’s view, but Robin managing to assure/scare both herself and Steve as she repeats you’re still just out cold. With Steve at least able to feel your breathing over his shoulder, as his arm keeps tight hold of your legs draped on his chest.

Both of them keeping their weapons out in full battle mode as they rush to the exit you entered through, silencing their check ins with each other as the ‘weather’ down there stops, and the eerie quiet of the Upside Down loudens in a way, the closer they get to the exit back home. In a place like this, it shouldn’t be quiet. The two keeping hushed where they can knowing they can’t alert anything out there to the intruders in their space, especially with you unconscious in Steve’s hold.

What’s strange though, is that while they did miss their opportunity at seeing Vecna, nothing attacked any three of you on your way out either.

It let you pass.

#please lmk your thoughts and if anyone would be interested in pt2!#I’ve worked so hard and for so long on this so any feedback would be rly appreciated :) 💕 hope y’all enjoy!#Eddie Munson/reader #little mermaid au #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Vecna #Eddie Munson #platonic stobin #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson angst #my fics #stranger things #Robin and Steve r in the middle pic bc it’s mostly them and Vecna in chptr1 bc it’s abt bringing Eddie back haha #I promise Eddie will be in all the other chapters after this this is just the set up 👀#11.8k

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thisisnotthenerd · 1 month

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incredibly thicc 'sode tonight folks. longest so far of the season. we have reached a point where you cannot watch all of what's released of fhjy in a single day. we've also broken 150 hours in the world of spyre. spreadsheet for more details

starting with the loam farm. something's in the soil. wrapping up the school year. everyone's getting little clues and figuring out their academics. adaine and aelwyn bonding.

landing in fallinel. the return of telemaine lomenelda. seeing wolfsong and everything that's being done with it. all of the secret sylvan gifts for the moonar yulenear. kristen and tracker talking about social vs. personal religion and what that means wrt faith.

emily clocking the hallow spell? *chef's kiss*

figuring out the dead god's name. briefcase dimension. multiple divine interventions. adaine counterspells a god. fig gets uncursed. baron from the baronies is back. they're in fig's bedroom.

also just a ton of nat 20s this episode, especially from riz. some really critical (ha!) moments that moved up the plot advancement.

ok big brain mode. we found out a few things:

the red glass shards take on imprinted emotion, not just rage

people aren't dying from an attack, they're like the rage mages

devil's nectar can produce devil's honey, which grants charisma bonuses but comes with the downside of convincing yourself of your lies

the spy's tongue curse is a voluntary agreement that makes the participants unable to speak each other's names

kalina notably used it pre-nightmare king quest, likely with a fiendish ally

the fig/gilear curse is luck related, with both of them on opposite ends of the spectrum, and it is confirmed related to the pride armor, now dispelled by adaine.

tracker brought winter to fallinel, as a miracle from galicaea, with her declaration that as the moon changes, so too does galicaea invite change

there is evidence of proto-deities and gods predating those we now know in fallinel, in the stone circle that's on wolfsong's site

the dead god who was married to cassandra was named ankarna

speaking ankarna's name immediately caused a chain reaction of deific response--bakur potentially escaped, galicaea went full moon & transformed tracker and started targeting the curse on fig, cassandra responded with a shroud of mirrors, and ankarna maybe came back into being, given the fire.

anyway, i'm excited to see this all come together.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #the bad kids #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats

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wri0thesley · 11 months

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there's something so terribly sad about the thought of alhaitham and kaveh's darling, and kaveh tucking a mourning flower behind their ear with a sad smile. a flower from a part of sumeru darling will now never get to see; a reminder that kaveh can leave and come back, and still darling is so grateful for the reminder of the world outside their little square of alhaitham's-home-and-the-garden-he-lets-me-walk-in-for-half-an-hour-a-day that they sigh and rest their cheek against kaveh's hand and ask him (one of their captors! a man just as responsible for all of this as alhaitham himself!) to stay with them just a bit longer. to tell them about the mourning flower. to ask him what the desert is like.

because darling won't get to see any more of this, and if they ask alhaitham he will tell them the soil conditions and the average temperatures and the native beasts in his clinical, dry tone. at least kaveh will tell them the things they want to know; tell them about the people, crack a joke about the client he's working for, take a deep breath and smile like he's remembering something beautiful and let emotion swell his voice. will speak as if one day, darling might get to see it too.

they both know that darling will most certainly not. but kaveh will spin it like a fairytale anyway. and if darling kisses him for the gift, if darling places their hands into his (feels the roughness from working with his fingers, the grit of the sand still in his hair when they stroke it), if darling pretends through him for a moment that they're right there too . . . well, it's equivalent exchange, isn't it? kaveh's pleasure (a kiss, a touch, a murmured sigh) for darling's hope. a flower for a night together.

but it is just a flower. the same thing a lover would give their sweetheart. so kaveh can pretend that your desperate kiss (the press of your body on his, the whispered thanks against his lips, the sighs and huffs against your shoulder and the snap of his hips) is given freely.

#nat.txt #yandere for ts #not sfw text #dub con for ts #darling and alhaitham are in a normal yandere captive relationship and kaveh is a Fucking Mess #genshin impact posting #alhaitham plucking the mourning flower from darling's hair like #this will rot if you leave it there.#you don't need decoration. you're fine the way you are.#kaveh tearing his hair out over lack of romanticism in alhaitham #cant even say 'you're beautiful' to the person you kidnapped? 'you're fine the way you are'???

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helloescapist · 4 months

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Jujetsu Alumni During the Holidays

Word Count: 5979

Setting: [insert JJK Alumni] x gn!reader (established relationship)

Content Warning(s): mentions of holidays, Christmas, hint of suggestive material.

Summary: headcanons as to what the Jujetsu Kaisen Alumni (Geto, Suguru, Nanami, Shoko, Utahime, Toji, and Yuki) are like during the holidays.

A/N: my only regret is that I did not have time to do headcanons for Choso. Happy holidays everyone. Do your best, however that may look.

Geto Suguru

In his youth, the curse user had a warmer affinity for the holiday season, able to convince himself to overlook the infringements of the cheap expectations of those around him.

In those days, Sugur could sit before the Christmas tree amongst the dark of night. Still, and quite as none stirred, content to sneak downstairs in his pajamas. To place himself before the tree, and delight in the warm tones. The ambience of peace and serenity, gentle colors, ambered golds, and tempting reds. Natural greens that soothed against light bulbs, allowed himself to become mystified by the distinct glow in the dead of night.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Content in to gaze up adoring, reflecting upon how the year had drawn him to this very moment. Accomplishments at school, making a new friend, enduring said friend, all while running his fingers over ornaments. Treasured hand-me-downs that remind him of those who passed from this world, constructed wreaths of glue and cereal. Images of his younger self posed and smiled ear to ear. Delighted to be able to gift his parents with something he had made himself.

During those years, Geto would enjoy the laughter of those around him. Noting how the light seemed to sparkle upon his peers, as they anxiously awaited presents, and winter breaks. The pitch of humming, no matter how off key, and the sudden pick up of moods of those around him.

Opting to focus on the joy that had surrounded him, he immersed himself in the comfort of its presence. Content with the bustle of those around him. He was the child who was just grateful to receive something regardless of what lurked beneath the wrapping paper.

Yet, those days have slipped from his fingertips. Slowly, but surely, as a stream that divides mountains, tarnishes rocks, and erodes the soil beneath to the new realities of formation, the curse user’s awareness of his environment shifted. He began to notice the shift of temperament. The sudden generosity and charity moved by those around him, by corporations pushing wares, peddling new models at unreasonable prices.

The sudden demands of peers, Christmas lists that seemed to run on without end, nor consideration of financial wellbeing. Suguru struggled to keep his head above the undertow of the holiday season, focused himself to swallow the lump at his throat. Eyes trained a head on those dearests to him, if only to maintain his sanity. To see their smiles, delighted by ice skating, joyful of cookies, and holiday treats… Told himself that such joys were not limited to the season—for those he cared for always recognized the frailty of life, and savored the moments that came far pass the holiday calendar.

But it could only last for so long. Little by little chipped him from his optimism. Familial bickering, unrealistic demands, the children who struggle to survive, and receive nothing while other youth rotted amongst materialistic items. Competition derived amongst neighbors, unabashed displays of wealth that adorned pockets, and lawn décor. Recipes that demanded attention, extravagant and pungent, crowded amongst snide remarks traded over the dinner table.

Buy, buy, buy.

The growing realization that your presence was meaningless if it did not accompany a price tag. Chocked upon the dip of sanity, yanked, and shattered his hopes, peeled open his eyes to the horrid truths of the holiday monkeys. An insatiable appetite for more, as the meaning of life fell from the waste side.

Ultimately, Geto will approach the holiday with trained cynicism. He will do his best to tuck such bitter sentiments beneath his many layers, force a smile for you as you delight in Christmas lights. Sing praises over simple pleasures like hot chocolate, and warm socks. Tuck a smile to his face, the small slips of his old self threatening to resurface.

To enjoy the lights at your side.

To sip chocolate.

To just breathe.

It’s warm, and bright, and for a moment, if just for a moment, he can allow himself to release the knot in his stomach, ease the strong desire for control from his pores, to just breath, and enjoy your company.

Bittersweet, all too aware that this moment is fleeting, and he will have to resign himself to holiday shopping. The warmth of your hand folded into his own, his discontent to frolic amongst retail monkeys, and greedy bastards cushioned by your coos of the toy selection. Reminded of the life the twins have lived before your care, before his presence, biting back any resentment of the holiday grind as you rummage through merchandise.

The girls deserve so much more than these disgusting monkeys, and because of this, he will force himself to revisit holiday sentiments. Tried and true, if only to give you the holiday you and the girls desire.

But he’d really much rather be feeding the stray cats in the alley way than doing this.

Gojo Satoru

There are few things that Gojo enjoys when it comes to the holiday itself. The presents can be tempting, he certainly has a few things that he is happy to receive, but ultimately, he believes that there is no one better than himself to buy for himself. Cut out the middleman, and any obligatory returns. Not to mention he views the entire return process at department stores exhausting. Why isn’t there an app for this by now?

More so, there’s something about the expectation of those around him. The curious peek over shoulders, the way so many tend to thumb through name tags, never openly admitting that they expect to see their names amongst the packages. Smug when they discover it, and bitter at their own self righteous expectations deflated and humbled.

In what world would he ever gift Yoshinobu Gakuganji a sincere gift.

It’s almost humorous how bruised egos can become during this time frame, as though for some reason everyone believes them the exception, desiring fits. Superficial, shallow as the first year training pool. It’s embarrassing really.

But he will make time to squeeze in opportunities to set others up for facing their expectations head on later. Truthfully, there are only a few Gojo would pick up gift for, and the most majority of them are gag gifts that are unique to his brand of humor.

It would not surprise me in the slightest if Satoru were to send Utahime a framed portrait of himself just for the satisfaction of knowing it would crawl under her skin. Playfully of course, he means no spite in his gifting, it’s all well intended to build the banter between the two. It’s a shame Utahime does not return the sentiment and smashed it. D

Tender gifts selected with the fullest of his affections are rare, and few between. However, you can expect that he has something special in mind for you. It would be targeted towards favored hobbies, or interests, or maybe something sleeker like a new wallet, or other luxury item, even a new gadget he genuinely feels would benefit you. Although ultimately, his gift may be something you may not completely expect.

Unlike his counterpart, Satoru actually enjoys the come and go of the holiday season. The noise, the lights, festivities, and parties, and he is known to partake in a large majority of them. He has a natural affinity for being around others, especially those he is partial to, and you can expect him to drag you to quite a few celebrations. A random festival will be sure to spark his interest.

He’s buying everything he can.

Challenging games, stuffing down vender’s foods, and dragging you along with him. Teasing you as he offers bites, pressed between your lips without a second thought of who may see.

In many ways, he approaches the holiday season with childlike wonder, and curiosity. He’s eager to partake in a number of traditions, those familiar, and those completely foreign. So much so that he is easily convinced to give anything a shot at least once. Gojo’s open mindedness may lead him to food poisoning one day, but to day is not this day, and the suckling pig is just too intriguing to pass up.

His sweet tooth is notorious, and more than anything, he is a sucker for all of the pastries, delicacies, and all that the holiday season has to offer—which is quite the substantial variety. If the sorcerer discovers a fair, or event that offers sweet sampling from around the world—he will not ask if you are going. He will, quite literally kidnap you.

It is his weakness.

He really cannot deny the opportunity, and there is no one he would rather spend it with than with you.

However, the best part of the holiday is not in the presents, or in the way your hand captures his own as he teases you across the ski ring—smugly delighting in your struggle on wobbly knees while he glides across the ice; it’s not even his sugar bliss…

It’s the discomfort of all party attendees as he drops harsh realities tied to the holiday season. Openly depicting the correlation between beloved Christmas caroling through town, and the warding off of evil spirits. The appeasing of kisses beneath mistletoe for higher deities, the intention of decking the halls with holly as a means of spreading good wealth. Down to toying with the ornaments upon the tree, greeting the little gods chuckled at the obvious discomfort that has begun to circulate throughout the party.

There will however, come a point where the tinsel has begun to slip from the tree, the glitter has lost its charm as it infects its surroundings, and his desire to captivate the masses has lost its buzz. He’s tired and has expended the last of his good will. Satoru will no longer attempt to humor bystanders.

Gojo wants to go home. He wants alone time. He wants you pressed against him, your arms thread around him. Pressed his cheek to your heartbeat, exhausted from the adventures the holiday has brought him, the stray of your fingers curled around one of his silver bell locks. Bonus if you’re naked.

His eye is on the prize, and the best he will do is manage a later, before leaving in the most obtuse of departures.

Nanami Kento

One of the first things that come to mind when one thinks about the holiday season, is the endless to-do lists that plague observers. Never ending tasks to complete from scrubbing floors, ensuring beds have been properly made. There are sure to be visitors, relentless relatives that are known to rub their fingers across shelves searching for dust. Little things to nitpick, like flies to the flesh, the holiday is supposed to be something that is beautiful, and hopeful, but the reality is for a lot of people, the holidays are a horrible source of stress.

If you are one of those people, lean on Nanami.

Let’s be honest, you can always lean on him.

Kento is an expert at delegating and accomplishing tasks. Calm under pressure, the holiday season is by no means a source of anxiety for him. Rather, it’s a chance to accomplish the highest of feats. A chance at glory, to be your hero. To demonstrate his strengths to prove once and for all,

He is a domestic god.

The sorcerer is a man of warmth under pressure, unphased by the daunting tasks to be accomplish. Meticulous, and well thought out, he can strategize his approach, and compose himself under fire, and strike when the iron is hot.

In just a few short hours, he has reorganized your home, sparkled beneath the gleam of lights. Sprinkled joy amongst the cinnamon and nutmeg, the sweet hues of vanillas and zest of orange that greets you as you open your door. The distinct tinkering of nails, or staples, his fingers calloused and tired at work. Dedicated to the task at hand.

He’s already ensured that there is not a crumb, nor speck out of place.

Balanced upon a step ladder, pins between pressed lips as his eyebrow furrows. Pressed in deep contemplation. The small bead of sweat those traces down his brow, the roll of his sleep revealing taunt muscles as the sweet smell of sugar cookies with his own special recipe wafts through the room. Too distracted by the garland and lights twirled between his fingers to notice that you’ve arrived home.

How desperately you want to enfold him in your grasp, snuggle him into your arms, if not more. Only pinned back by the way he balances himself upon the ladder, and knowing fully well that your intrusion would result in bodily harm. You’ll get him later tiger.

Yet, the moment he hears your bag drop, the slip of your keys into the bowl, rolled your shoulders. The way he peeks over his shoulder at you, the smile growing and spreading ear to ear, soft and warm. Delighted to greet your return, the way he whispers your name with affection that could easily be missed if you were not familiar with the dip of his tone. “Oh, [YN], welcome home.”

As if he is not in fact, balancing an act of decoration magic as he swiftly retreats down the steps, to greet your arrival home, requesting in as nonchalant tone as possible, that he would appreciate your input on his home-made mulled wine. His indirect way of offering you reward for your efforts. And he welcomes the praises.

Kento has little difficulty approaching holiday shopping. While he cannot say with the utmost confidence it is his favorite thing to do, but that being said, he understands that the majority of people have a severe aversion. Whether it’s simply something you hate to do who doesn’t, or if it is someone who simply struggles with the crowds, the social demands, finds the entire environment over stimulating and could result in full sensory shutdown—he’s more than happy to take responsibility for this task.

In general, he’s fairly unbothered by the task itself. Although he would be happier to be at home with you decorating sugar cookies. Yet, he will never struggle with completing the task. He can hop from store to store if it were to mean he could bask in the tuck of your smile, or the way you cannot help but release a sigh of relief. The bones that seem to ease at the sincerity, and how your small hands captivate his sides as you whisper your gratitude, shyly into collar.

You’ll find that during this time, Kento is at ease. The nostalgia of Christmas lights, the distant hue of holiday cheer. Gentle, and comforting to his ears. The sound of neighbors welcoming relatives as he sits in his balcony, sipping his mulled wine. There’s a sweet sense of enjoyment, warm and at ease. It’s all so cozy, and calls upon distant memories that remind him of simpler times.

Splitting a sweet potato with Haibara. Warm and tender, the heat a stark contrast from the pillows of smoke that captured his breath. The exposed of his finger tips fumbled across the potato that he insisted on sharing with Nanami, the exact opposite of him. His laughter at Kento’s open pessimism. The snarky remarks he had made at Haibara’s lack of consideration of his health, pointing out his lack of mittens in such chill.

His old age reflection, making Kento all too aware of how he had taken such moments for granted.

These memories, at times, can be stirring, little moments that he wishes that he could erase, or ones that he desperately longs to reclaim. A balancing act that he struggles to manage, but there it is. Your wide smile as you come rushing through the door. The sack wrapped around your wrists, excitedly tossing aluminum wrapped produce between fingers.

Your nose bright red, cheeks puffed as undeniable as the smile that spreads, the squint of your eyes. Excited, warm and nearly shaking with your joy as you make quick work of your shoes, abandoned at the doorway, and rush to share your spoils of war, packaging. Completely unaware that your smile reminds him of the ghost of your youth. Grins nearly perfectly aligned.

And he cannot fight the way the corner of his lips tug as he takes the potato from your fingers, lightly teasing that you should have worn mittens.

Shoko Ieiri

What day is today?

Shit, she doesn’t even know.

The rub of her temples, cold rooms, piled upon bodies in capsules. The sickening scent of methanol and sodium bi carborate. Toxic, and pulled, only shooed away from her senses as she lights another cigarette. Welcomes the shortened life span, the thick puff of smoke between pressed lips. Chocks on duties that weigh on her, as her fingers meet the bridge of her nose. The exasperating jitter of a dial tone vibrated against her desk. Buried beneath papers, files that have claimed her workload, and distracted her from any sense of a personal life.

The exhaustion that draws out a ushed annoyed sigh, as the sender of the text flickers in over excited, and obnoxious tone.

Remember to take time off for the holidays—Gojo.

The press of the time, well past three am, on Christmas morning. The jolly diabetes bowl of jelly has long since passed over Japan—no part of her is at all surprised that he had not bothered to pay her a visit as she clicks the lock button between her nails, allowing the phone to slip from her hand and plunk on the desk. The fatigue sunk between her bones as her back finds the back of the chair.

Ieiri cannot recall the last time she observed the holidays; work often distracted her from such sentiments. Not that she had ever truly cared about the septation. There were very few moments that the holiday season really held any significance for her. She can recall gifts that she enjoyed, but aside from such moments, it was never something she awaited.

More often than not, it felt as though she was directed in a play. Expectations of gifts, to pose for the perfect picture, laugh at jokes that lacked humor, act surprise despite the fact that her parents had a less than impressive maneuver to place it directly under their bed. Not even properly tucked under. How was she supposed to act surprise? All elaborate orchestrated performance, one that had all of its expectations on display for all those to view, and should she not put on a well enough performance as she often fell short of.

No one ever hid their disappointment.

Shit, Shoko had never been impressed with the concept of the holidays. Really, the only enjoyment she found in the season was the early outs from school, and well, when things were simpler. When Gojo and Geto would laugh, engage in snowball fights in the courtyard as though they were small children. Like elementary students, when things were simpler.

When she could smile.

These days, your girlfriend has very little interest in engaging in the holiday festivities. It’s not so much that she is downright hateful at the prospect. Shoko has no intentions of robbing the Whos of Christmas, but that beign said, she has no real emotional investment either. Her involvement will be for your sole amusement only. Even then, she’s tired, and on a limited battery.

Actually, Shoko can be rather giving of what limited time she has accumulated, so long as it’s not a forced participation. Do not guilt her, nor make her feel as though there are ultimatums attached to her absence, or her enrollment. Such consequences will not end well with your partner, but surely you knew this before you committed to this relationship.

You’ll hear no complains if you choose to visit friends and family, bar crawl, or even adventure past your borders to conquer every party that you can find, or investigate any vendors you come across. Really, have fun.

She wants you to have fun.

Truthfully, the only joy she divuldges in the holiday season, is the sweet late hours of slumber. The filter of the midday sun high in the sky as it peeks through sheer curtains. Catches her eyelashes, dances across her skin, to wake to you peering over her, the muddle of your bedhead. Stuck at odd ends, the wear of a late night relieved from your senses. The bright eyed gaze you regard her in, soft as the dimples form upon your cheeks. The blush of her finger stroked upon your cheek.

Yes, this is the moment that she lives for. One that she has craved, and is the reason why she has endured whatever holiday torture you have submitted her to. Shoko’s piece of joy.

Only brightened by the small squeal you release, as she plucks a present from beneath her pillow. The delight of the significance—the only person she has purchased a gift for in well over a decade.

Just for you.

Utahime Iori

Is a little embarrassed that she looks forward to this time of year.

Will never openly admit how excited she is, as though some part of her still clings to being a shy child. She’ll dodge questions, try to play coy as she averts her eyes when you ask what her plans are for the holiday. Mutter claims that nothing really comes to mind, perhaps she’ll just do the same old, same ol’.

It’s a ploy.

A down right lie. She knows exactly what she will be doing, and if you have progressed in your relationship, Utahime will still be a bit dodgy with her openness, but you’ll find small ways of being pulled into her traditions.

It’s not that she’s intentionally skipping yours over, and in fact, if you are an avid holiday celebrator yourself, you’ll find her interest peek. If you have a certain gingerbread recipe, one that demands a multitude of steps, she will watch your precision with peaked interest.

Peeked over your shoulder, leaned meticulously in as if to absorb all of the information you have to offer. The precision of your knife, patterns traced on parchment. Each line thought out with great care, and calculated angles to ensure that your gingerbread house mansion will stand through the festivities.

Iori adores observing your traditions, regardless of w hat holiday you dedicate yourself to, or religious practices. To be included means a great deal for her, and while she may not understand everything that is happening such as the morning mass, the sorcerer puts great care into researching prior. Doing her best to follow the motions as accurately as you demonstrate.

Smiles to herself at the significance of being included.

The small blush that claims her cheeks, paints to the tip of her nose and the ends of her ears only maintained dignity beneath her hair upon the openness in which you open the door of your family home, happy to share holiday traditions with your girlfriend, and those you love.

Obviously shy at first, will do her best to appear small, and out of the way.

Gradually puts herself to work.

Fixing dim lightbulbs upon the Christmas tree. Assisting the freeing of dolls and trucks from packaging. Happily greeting family pets, allowing them out for a moment of peace from the probing children. Before she inevitably builds the confidence to requests tasks.

Your mother juggling multiple dishes between an oven and a skillet, Utahime will ask if there is anything she can do for her, and despite your mother’s polite refusal, your partner’s ability to rescue the dinner rolls from certain doom is greatly appreciated.

Before she knows it, she has handed task after task.

Iori seizes opportunity to inquire casually about your upbringing. Naturally reserved, it’s almost comical at the approach she takes. Doing her best to seem as though she happened upon such topics—unaware of the side glances your siblings exchange with the smuggest of looks before diving into every horrifying memory they can muster.

Going so far as to procure baby pictures. The shy delight she finds in flipping through them.

Not that Utahime minds, she finds comfort in the way that she has been greeted by your family. A small wish pressed in the back of her mind, as to how naturally it all feels to be embraced amongst your childhood home. Imagines the future that could be born of such familiarity.

How your own home might blossom with the bustle of the holidays.

Now, if you are not one who has any particular attachment to traditions, or none worth departing into your relationship in your opinion, you will find that Utahime is bashful. She’ll do her best to tip toe around the conversation, shyly leaving boxes of ornaments in view, frosting backs of sorted colors, temple fliers to mark the upcoming visits, and any information of upcoming Christmas markets.

Each intentionally placed in view, praying that you will bridge the topic with some interest, rather than shuffle it to the side out of your way.

If you do, she’ll swallow her pride and ask if by any chance—would you like to go to the temple with her? However, you’d be missing out on the opportunity to see the heat come to her cheeks, the press of a smile, and blossomed joy as she imparts off the information she has gathered about the Christmas markets that will take place upon your inquiries. You’re unsure of what a Christmas market is? She’s happy to show you.

Fingers linked between one another as she gently pulls you forward, delighted in the displays, in the treats. Warmed by the Christmas lights, the holiday music, and cheer that bustles amongst vendor to vender. Children delighted, and curious, bearing so much similarity to your companion in a way that draws for warmth and appreciation of your time together.

The holiday season really does bring out child wonder in Utahime.

She’ll write in her diary about this day, and peek back at it every so often.

A beautiful memory.

Toji Fushiguro

The approach of the holiday season brings forth many joys. Generous gifts, meticulously placed decorations that spark a sense of wonder, nostalgia of familiar pastries, and good tidings all around, but not for the cast away Zenin.

I would say that there is a touch of cynicism that threatens Toji’s approach to the holiday season. His upbringing less than affectionate, but because of this—he is fairly indifferent to this time of year.

you’ll meet a scoff of a laugh, one that bites down realities before shrugging at the quip of his lips. “Couldn’t say,” simple and precise. Nothing more departed. Because truthfully, he really couldn’t give a shit less.

Well, assuming one of the bastards hasn’t sent a holiday card through the mail. The sweet impart of well wishes for the upcoming new year will wring out every bit of irony and hypocrisy. Would absolutely send something in return, merely as a slap to the face. Whatever infringement he can mustard. Even if it’s an explicit image of him fucking you, he hopes it ruins their fucking day.

Smug as hell as he drops it off with the post master.

Assuming he didn’t just hand deliver it along side a bag of candy dicks.

Overall, Toji is fairly indifferent to the holiday season as a whole, and as he grew older and older, it really meant… absolutely noting. He felt no animosity towards family on the street delighting in their wares and intentions to sneak goodies from fat man. It’s a little creepy, but if it makes them happy. He really could careless.

The 25th is the same as the 26th, cold. Loud, and sometimes with good food to snatch.

In correlation to his children, you’ll find that Toji is more willing to attempt the holiday cheer—well, in his own approach. While he for one has no interest, nor the capabilities of bridging the topic with his children. He has no desires to share tales of a jolly fat man who can squeeze down nooks and crannies, commit breaking and entering, and peep on them in their beds.

He does enjoy the opportunity to ambush them from their walk home from elementary school, completely blindsided that he has come to pick them up from their educational track by an onslaught of snowballs to the face.

No one is safe.

He is in it to win, and does not mind any potential bloodshed that will come of it. I promise he has hit one of them hard enough to elicit a nosebleed. It’s all in good fun, and encourages that they return the sentiment.

Megumi will never admit that this was the side of his father that was rare, small slips of a man that appear in his distant memories. Ones in which he was free, unbound by jujetsu norms, and just.

Present.

Happy.

But, that does not mean, the acclaimed Fushiguro is not in tune with the desires of his children, even if he does not speak to them.

He’ll put in more hours. Press for more opportunities to snub out problems curses and sorcerers alike for a bit of extra pocket cash, an haunting figure amongst holiday shoppers as he picks up items he noticed drawing his children’s attention, or hinted at in their expressions.

But Toji really doesn’t fucking care who the gift is from. In fact, he’ll intentionally leave the package blank. Knowing all too well that it will occur to neither child that their father is the sender of the package. They received it is enough.

You can expect his approach to giving you a git to be the same. He is observant, and well he may struggle to align a majority of emotional needs, Fushiguro is familiar enough with your likes and dislikes to select a gift you will enjoy. Even if it is something as small as your favorite cookies.

Offered in the most disinterested way, nonchalant as mentioning it or pulling it from his pocket on his way out. “Later,” under his breath, turned over his shoulder to hide the small smile that catches his lips, the sparkling aura you illuminate just a little to bright for his eyes, as he slinks off.

Back to the gambling den.

He is admittedly, a little busier this time of year, but as a sign of good faith, he is willing to entertain pushing a majority of request to the side when he sees the dimple between your eyebrows, and how you struggle to swallow back the bitter realization that a majority of families are not only astray, but downright treacherous. However, a higher bid cannot be ignored.

Really, that’s the only part of the holiday season that bring the assassin any sense of satisfaction. The opportunity for a higher payday, but the fact that his time is for the most part free. Unsolicited. Available.

The ability to divulge himself in whatever pleasures he desires.

Fushiguro can filter through requests, select high ticket missions. Lord knows the season not only brings out the worst in others, but it also dulls the senses of a majority of targets. Easy payout, and he’s home in time for breakfast, or he can wonder off to the gambling din. The round of desperation, indulgent depression tipped in his favor, easy money, or there are more opportunities that are even more delectable than coin.

Toji is more than aware that this time of year, brings out a certain generosity in you, a small spark of adventure, and willingness to indulge yourself.

Suddenly, you’ll find yourself filled to the brim with holiday cheer.

The opportunity to distract you from whatever mundane task you insist is necessary for the celebration is far too tempting. How far can he push you, until you break. Whining obscenities, puddy between his fingers. Desperate for his touch, gnawing back weakness, sputtering and pitiful.

That’s alright sweetheart, let me fulfill your wish list.

Yuki Tsukumo

Absolutely unapologetic in her freelance approach to the holiday season.

Will shamelessly drag her partner into her antics.

The thing is, and it may not surprise you by any means, Tsukumo has absolutely no attachments to long standing holiday traditions. Such detachment from family is a side effect of being offered up to Tengen. It’s not that she outright discourages you from engaging in whatever rituals you have opted to keep alive from your childhood. Depending on it, she’ll find it fun, and even cute.

If she’s being honest, and let’s be honest, Yuki believes that open communication regardless of how blunt is the appropriate approach in a relationship, she finds a majority of traditions… annoying. The concept that one should dip into their pockets to satisfy greed, the meaty underbelly of the holiday season that depicts itself as generosity, and acceptance is anything but. She has witnessed a number of individuals struggling to conform to the season, and a number of would be celebrators ostracized by families.

Unwelcomed.

Displaced.

She’s not outright denying dropping in for some holiday shenanigans with your parents, but should the opportunity present itself, she’d rather allow herself to drift amongst the winter seasons.

This time of year certainly has a tendency to bring out the worst in the human population, and a sudden fluctuation in cursed spirits is to be expected as a natural epidemic worldwide, and as such, Yuki welcomes tossing holiday constrictions to the side, but not outright abandoning.

Rather, she’d rather make the most of the environment she has wandered into. She’s not going to let the lack of unfamiliar faces dip into her spirits. Yuki is thrilled to have happened upon foreign celebrations. The adorable plays put on by children in the African continent, Anyone who has not experienced chakalaka is missing out in her opinion.

The year she wandered into a mystifying scene of las posadas, a procession that ranged with candles, and peace. Beautiful and enchanting amongst the night sky, savoring colemono, and the joy of children expressing how a baby brought their gifts.

The bar crawl expedited through out all of Europe upon this time of year, the flavors ,the joy, strangers intermingled, and the wide languages that greeted her arrival.

Depictions of Santa jamming on a saxophone, and the sweetness of a peace apple between her teeth.

Tsukumo really just cannot understand the appeal of remaining stagnant during such a wonderful time of year, and would much rather her wanderlust to guide her holiday. To welcome embrace and cheer by strangers, unfamiliar faces, and unusual foods.

The food is amongst the selling points; she has always enjoyed her food, and the opportunity to explore the unfamiliar accustoms is topped off only by the cuisine. She’s adventurous enough to try anything, regardless of how obscure the ingredients may be, but be aware that your partner does not mine openly spitting it out if it does not meet her palette.

Yuki is confident, and as such, you will find the natural way that she can enter the holiday season, welcomed amongst travelers, cross country explorations. The best part of this time is year is how effortlessly she releases expectations. Cast away duties, rules, and traditions. The road before her, your arms threaded around her, your cheek pressed into the leather of her jacket.

The possibilities before the two of you.

An entire world to unfold, and places to go.

Waking up in unfamiliar places, you pressed into her breast, shamelessly flaunting her figure and delighted in stirring you at early morning hours. Allowing herself the opportunity to part her appreciation for your company on this trip between pressed kisses that litter your body, uttered merry Christmas between small nips. Teasing, playful.

Squeezed in time together.

You, your presence is the only gift she needs.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #shoko ieiri x reader #utahime iori x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #yuki tsukumo x reader

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