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pandoraroid · 14 days

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redacted filipino hcs & thoughts! lol

mostly about shaw pack + vamps + guy&honey

inpsired by @erial-c nahiya akong itag ka pero hiiii po

the trivia and translations are probably not accurate 🧍‍♀️please forgive my very scattered brain thoughts

darlin probably does arnis. it's why they fight like a menace 😈 sam has never known peace since he's seen em wield an ital

arnis - a ph martial art

itak - a bolo sword(?)

asher doesn't call milo "tol" bc he's not tall /j

"tol" is like the equivalent of "dude" as in a way of calling your friend

lovely & darlin would probably call vincent & sam their asawang (gets niyo ba asawa + aswang)

asawa means spouse or wife or husband

aswang is a ph mythological creature. different sources tell different things but what is mostly agreed upon is that (1) they're nocturnal (2) they usually pretend to be humans in the day time if not (3) they hide in the woods (4) they prey on children, pregnant women (specifically for their unborn child), and maybe new borns. they often get lumped with vampires though i'm not too sure how accurate that is.

aspins have a very special place in darlin's heart. sam's cabin in the woods usually have attract lots of them and they never had the heart to turn them away. in a way too, they know what it's like to being wild, dirty, street dog.

aspin - a dog breed in the ph that is sort of a mix of other breeds. they often get a bad rep for being street dogs and not having a particular breed.

vincent n his cars get featured a lot in those carspotting around manila tiktoks. whenever lovely finds em they make sure to send those to vincent lol

(this is me also hoping that vincent gets to keep at least few of them when they leave the house of solaire)

not entirely sure how the entire mate thing would translate into ph culture but even with all that david & asher would insist on doing things properly before marriage - they would mamanhikan to their partner's parents respectively hehehe

mamanhikan or pamamanhikan is a like a traditional practice of going to the fiancee's family's house and asking for their hand in marriage lol.

whenever they drive down shaw boulevard, the pack would turn to david and go "taga dito ka di ba?" or something to that effect HAHAHAHHA

"taga-dito ka 'di ba?" = "you're from (around) here, right?"

angel know it's general cleaning morning whenever david is blasting opm songs or old timey songs around their house.

asher would take panliligaw very seriously!!!!! magpapaalam sa magulang lagi ni baabe paglalabas sila!!! aabangan niya after work si baabe tapos "sabay na raw sila umuwi" galawan mo asher talbot !!!! dyan ka magaling !!!! and ofc it never stopped kahit naging sila na ni baabe :)))

panliligaw or ligaw is a more traditional pre-dating courting stage in a relationship. lol

marie has definitely said to david & asher & milo & darlin at some point na "kakaselpon niyo yan". it doesn't matter that they're adults.

"kakaselpon niyo yan" = "it's because of that (damn) phone"

this one is a bit more in general: vampire houses have THE filipino family drama. territory/progeny disputes? grudges? backstabbing? been there done that.

speaking of vamps: pre-turning, sam was once an altar boy (darlin: hahaha samkristan)

speaking of sam (again): pre-turning, he has a picture in baguio, riding a horse & wearing a cowboy hat. when darlin found it they couldn't stop staring at it for a loong while.

sweetheart LOVES singing. marie loves having them over for karaoke.

marie would drag milo's ahh every night for simbang gabi.

simbang gabi - mass service for the nine nights leading up to christmas eve.

guy's filipino nickname would be "totoy"

"totoy" is another way of refering to a younger male. addtionally, it's also often used as a euphism for a dick HAHAJAHA

guy definitely has a tiktok acct tapos don siya nagpaparinig kay honey HAHAHAHA lagi niyang kinakanta "crush" by tweens of pop

guy always does those cheesy, poetry pick up line jokes to honey like:

"cheese, cheese, cheese. gusto kita i-keese (read: kiss)"

"mga 6 out of 10. medyo pilit yung rhyme"

"honey naman 😭😓"

translation:

"cheese, cheese, cheese. i want to give you a k-eese."

"a 6 out of 10. the rhyming was a bit forced."

"honey, c'mon 😭😓."

guy and honey are definitely oa x nonchalant pairings but may i also suggest na they are jeje x pogi typings. they both definitely have kanal humor though HAHAHA

- after returning to the pack, darlin couldnt help but cry tear up after marie called them "anak" again

anak = child

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writing-whump · 25 days

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The reveal

The long awaited reveal of the truth. Hector and Arnie find out about Isaiah from their father. Hector stress sick as hell.

"Are you entirely sure you don't want to come?"

Arnie shook his head for what felt like the billionth time. "I'm sure. I told you, I'm sick."

Hector gave him a sceptical look. "Sure you are not just pretending to get out of the meeting with dad?"

Arnie sighed dramatically. "No. I have a fever, my nose feels all clogged up. I'm gonna take an easy day. You have fun."

Technically speaking, Arnie didn't feel any desire to meet their father. It was an annual internal Wolfson pack meeting, but this was the first time in 6 years their father would be attending.

Hector was admittedly excited. Arnie didn't know what about, a guy who didn't think of them for 6 years and ignored Arnie specially for another 6 years before didn't seem much worthy of attention.

There were two people to choose from to blame for the whole of their family falling apart. Arnie would choose their father where Hector would Isaiah.

It was 50:50. One of them was certainly right. Maybe both.

Hector glared at him, which would look a lot scarier if Arnie didn't know it was out out frustration. "You know 37.5 is barely a fever."

Arnie shrugged. "Excuse me, for not waiting for my brain to be half-fried before taking a break, like some people."

They both knew that wasn't what they were arguing about.

Hector sighed, then gave up. "Fine. Whatever. See you."

Arnie smirked, leaning against the wall. "You will tell me all about it anyway."

Hector rolled his eyes. "Don't count on it." But his tone was lighter, which Arnie counted as a win.

Once the door closed behind him, Arnie relaxed. He wasn't lying, he really wanted a day off. Taking some vitamins, he got into PJs and a comfy bathrobe so he wasn't cold and promptly passed out on the sofa with Friends rerun in the backround.

Arnie woke up when twilight was falling through the windows, which meant he had a good sleep, all the way from noon.

Was there a coughing sound or did he imagine it?

Arnie lifted himself up, rubbing the back of his head. His hair got all tangled, he would have to recomb it all over. He wasn't feeling worse, but neither quite okay per se, limbs heavy and his shirt all sweaty.

He blinked around, wondering what woke him up. When he couldn't find any source of the noise or light, he fell back onto the cushion. When was Hector coming back? Likely not before midnight if he didn't decide to spend the night.

The image of Hector bonding with their father after his long absence left a bitter taste in Arnie's mouth. In theory, Isaiah left them too, at about the same time.

But Isaiah always cared for him, cooked and sat with him when he was sick and taught him to play chess. He never made Arnie feel less special for not being a wolf.

Maybe Arnie was just petty. Just because father didn't care for him, didn't mean he wouldn't be nice to Hector, right?

In a way, Hector couldn't help being exicted. Role models were very important to wolves. Fathers, uncles or older brothers, it didn't matter as long as it was an older wolf who could show the proper behavior and control to pups.

Especially in puberty, when most pups struggled the most with their shadows. Wolves lived longer than humans and were nearly indestructible, if they survived their teen years.

There was that weird coughing noise again, bordering on a gag that had Arnie shooting up again. He felt a bit dizzy as he stumbled upright and out of the living room.

Did Hector come back and he didn't notice?

He found their second bathroom alight, although the door was shut. Without thinking, Arnie barged in.

Hector was on his knees in front of the toilet, both elbows planted on the toilet seat. His breathing was ragged, choked at the end.

He lifted his spikey blond head up at Arnie, turning his palm up. "Hi."

"What the hell happened to you?" The sleepiness left Arnie in a rush as he skidded to his knees next to Hector. "When did you come back? What's going on?"

Hector waved him off, but turned back against the toilet, burping loudly against the water. It was still clear though, so he haven't vomited yet. "I'm fine, I'm fine..."

"Hex, for real. Did you catch some kind of flu? Do you have a fever?" If so, he had it worse than Arnie? Or was Hector sick before but pushed himself?

Arnie slapped a hand to his older brother's sweaty forhead, but his skin was cool and clammy. "What's wrong with you?"

Hector gave a whole-bodied shudder that was so out of character it had Arnie scrambling up to shake off his thick woolen bathrobe and throw it over his shoulders. "Are you cold? Hey. Talk to me."

Hector spat into the toilet, squeezing his eyes shut as he rode out a wave of nausea, but nothing else happened. He swiped a hand over his mouth and leaned back against the wall, panting.

Arnie went with him as if glued, wrapping his hands around Hector's arm, trying to coax him into talking with the contact.

"I met father today," Hector said into the silence.

"That's the most important thing right now? I was asking-"

"Just shut up for a second." Hector put the side of his fist to his mouth, muffling a weak gag, before leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

Arnie frowned, unsease pooling into his stomach.

"Rolled my shadow down."

An icy cold feeling crawled up Arnie's spine. That would explain why Hector was so distraught and shivering. Rolling down someone's shadow was always unpleasant and painful, but it was worse with big shadows. And it was worse for Hector, who had nobody roll it for him for years. He was too powerful, too invincible and too controlled to let the happen.

"Why?" Arnie stammered.

"Said that he was testing me. That I was too weak, because nobody trained me the right way. Not like Isaiah." Hector shivered again, huddling deeper into the bathrobe.

Arnie stayed silent, feeling like there was more coming.

After a beat of hesitation, Hector continued. "He said this is why he trained Isaiah with silver. In fighting. Beat him bloody. Rolled his shadow. That that was the best kind of training that would have made me powerful." Hector swallowed heavily.

"But he didn't?" Arnie wanted to make it sound like a statement, but it swang into a question at the end. He wanted to make sure nothing like that happened, cause surely he would have noticed if Hector went through something like that.

"He couldn't. Isaiah wouldn't allow it."

Arnie's eyes widened and he crooked his neck to look at Hector properly. Hector's eyes were open to slits, amber brown, almost yellow in the bathroom light.

"Can you imagine that? Rolling his shadow, not every day, but several times a day?" A distressed choked edge came into Hector's voice as he met Arnie's eyes. "To teach him how to call it back faster? Taught him how to stand silver injuries by cutting him with silver knives, to get him used to pain? So he would be unbeatable by simply ignoring-" Hector's voice broke, his breathing speaing up like he couldn't get enough air.

Arnie went deadly still at his side, realizing with some kind of horrified detachment father might just have confessed to them the pack's biggest secret.

The reason behind Isaiah's behavior during his executioner training and work. Why he would lock himself up in his room. Why he would disappear for days. Why his expression closed up, why he stopped talking.

Why Isaiah left.

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't," Hector said in the most broken voice Arnie ever heard from him, his own lungs constricting. "Why didn't he say anything? We could have- I could have-"

Arnie held his arm tighter, wrapped around Hector like a monkey. "You wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"No!" Hector's hands shot up into his hair, pulling at them desperately. "Probably not, I guess not, but I should have known! I could have- I could have helped him! He didn't have to be alone, he didn't have to keep it secret, he didn't have to take the blame-" This time Hector gagged, body heaving violently.

Arnie tugged at his arm to direct him over the toilet, Hector barely making it over it as he heaved and heaved, until a splash of sick hit the rim and then the water.

Arnie patted his back, feeling it arch with the heaves. "Breathe, Hex. Just breathe," he managed to whisper, throat all closed up, tears pressing into his eyes.

Hector retched, then made a horrible choking sound and coughed.

Arnie thumbed the middle of his back harder. Hector's breathing hitched, dislocating a loud burp that brought another wave of chunky brown vomit into the bowl.

Hector kept heaving over it for what felt like an eternity, groaning and burping. Arnie wasn't sure if he was crying or if his eyes watered from the strain.

He could understand what Hector was feeling very well, his own stomach in knots. But he had no time to panic himself with Hector struggling to breathe and expelling everything he had eaten that week violently into the toilet.

Arnie pressed his face between Hector's shoulder blades, out of comforting things to say. It felt like he could feel the earth turning, spinning with them, how it sped up and them raced into the opposite direction with the revelation.

Hector moaned loudly, shoulders slumping as he cushioned his head on his arms. He was folded over the toilet seat, still panting and sweaty.

Arnie reached behind him to flush the toilet, the air sticky and smelling of stomach acid. Then he resumed his position, face pressed against Hector's back. A steady diligent presence, joined with him in suffering.

Hector's throat bobbed and he shuddered again. Arnie wrapped his hands around his waist, slow to let Hector react if he wanted to shake him off.

Now that he knew what was wrong he understood why Hector seemed so subdued, so lost and cold and small without the presence of his shadow, the faithful intimidating force always radiating from him.

Hector didn't feel complete without it and Arnie hated it. He hated this is what one rolling did to Hector.

He hated the idea what so many did to Isaiah.

Hector groaned again, the sound somewhere between an angry growl and a pained sob.

Arnie rested his hands gently on Hector's stomach, feeling it suck inside and then blow up again with his harsh breathing. He could feel when it spasmmed under his palms, shooting pressure up his brother's ribcage that has Hector burying his head between his arms into the bowl with a loud productive heave.

Arnie gently stroked the upset heaving organ, feeling the gurgling and clenching under Hector's sweaty shirt.

Hector winced at the movement of Arnie's hands, then relaxed, slumping forward against his arms. His breathing was still fast, but it was slowing, becoming more regular.

Arnie turned his face to the side, so he could breathe better, but not letting go for a second.

"You know what's going to be really important right now?" Arnie whispered into the silence.

Hector turned his head too, looking up at the ceiling with one eye. "What?"

"Don't shut him out right now. You guys...we have to talk about this with him. If this is the reason...maybe we should call Isaiah right now-"

"Fuck, no," Hector protested, straightening up. It would have looked more intimidating if he didn't have bile hanging from the corner of his lips. "I'm not-...I can't-"

"Yes you can," Arnie interrupted sternly. "You have to. Or this is never going to get solved. He needs to know we know and that we are on his side."

Hector looked down, eyes shiny and watery. "I don't know how I'm supposed to look him in the eye." His voice trailed off to whisper. "I told him so many horrible things. I blamed him so many years...I was so wrong..." he blubbered, confirming Arnie's suspicions.

"Yes, it was a mistake. Doesn't mean you should keep making it," Arnie protested, untangling himself to get a good look at Hector.

"Okay," Hector quaked. "Okay. Just...not right now."

"Hex-"

"Please." Hector turned to rest his forehead against the meat of his wrist.

Arnie sighed, a sinking sensation in his chest at the sight. He couldn't make Hector do anything in this state.

But he was afraid this would only be more painful, if it dragged on.

#emeto #sickfic #angst #emetophilia #hurt/comfort #whump #werewolf wip #my writing #and there it is #Hector

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dizzyizzyhands · 23 days

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teehe thanks for tagging me zoe @serve-cunt!!

15 questions 15 friends

Are you named after anyone? nope

When was the last you cried? literally can't remember i'm like if an emotionally stunted old man was a girl

Do you have kids? never wanted 'em

What sports do you play/have you played? soccer when i was very young and then swam until mid high school

Do you use sarcasm? every second of my life

What is the first thing you notice about people? what they're wearing, speech patterns

What is your eye color? hazel

Scary movies or happy endings? scary movies with happy endings <3

Any talents? i don't believe in talent but i used to be pretty good at the piano and clarinet. i can do impressions sometimes

Where were you born? new yawk

What are your hobbies? writing, crochet, obsessing over cars, baking, hiking, visiting graveyards, trying new coffee spots

Do you have any pets? no but i want a cat

How tall are you? 5'3

Favorite subject at school? latin

Dream job? i'm kinda doing it but the real one i want is a few rungs up: linguistic engineer. but i do love working in cars all the time

tagging: @gonnabreakhisheart @archieyelash and anyone else who wants to

#tag game #arni speaks #not the do you have kids question #someone asked me that irl once and it gave me whiplash for 3 days #like sir i am 23..

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arnesia-a · 2 years

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Just wanted to share this beautiful interaction I just had with my boyfriend

#Arny speaks #Idek what to tag this as #halloween #last braincell #yea

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 4 months

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Episode 2 of What If Season 2 poked the Peggy hornet’s nest and did exactly what I thought it would.

So, for context, in this reality Yondu actually handed Peter Quill over to Ego when he was supposed to, and within just 6 months Ego was able to corrupt his son into a conqueror, so they invade Earth together. Peggy is director of SHIELD at the time, and she and Howard work together to assemble a proto-Avengers team to stop them. The team consists of Hank Pym, Bill Foster, T’Chaka, Thor, Wendy Lawson (who I think is from Captain Marvel), and… wait for it… the Winter Motherfucking Soldier.

Yes, for real.

And because I know you’re thinking it, the excuse given is that he is in the hands of the Russians during this time, so Peggy and Howard couldn’t possibly have known about it UwU. Anyway, when they see him there’s a super drawn-out moment where they both think they recognize him (and it’s while he still has the mask on, so while this probably wasn’t intentional I actually read that as yet another middle finger to Steve, as Peggy could apparently recognize Bucky even under his disguise while Steve couldn’t). And then, Howard says, I shit you not: “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long-gone, Peg, and we have bigger fish to fry.” And then later in the episode, with no segway from that to this, there’s a scene where they’re all together and the Winter Soldier has his mask off, and actually speaks.

So, at least in this universe, Howard and Peggy are 100% aware that Bucky Barnes is in fact the Winter Soldier. Later on in the episode Howard attempts to get through to him, but only when it becomes a necessity to save the world (because he is about to kill Peter Quill while Hank is trying to convince him to turn on Ego), but it’s still pretty damning. And then at the end of the episode, rather than trying to rehabilitate him, they just let him go. Like, it’s not the same situation as Steve where he was out cold and unable to do anything, they could have taken Bucky in and tried to break his programming, but they didn’t. It’s left ambiguous what will happen to him after that, so it’s not like they sent him back to Hydra, but Hydra is still out there in this universe, so my hopes aren’t high.

TLDR; this episode attempts to handwave away the very strong possibility that the Howard and Peggy of the Prime Timeline knew what was happening to Bucky, but in doing so unintentionally made them look so much worse.

I don't... I can't even... WTF did I just read? (not you of course, I mean, what is wrong with Marvel?) 🤦‍♀️

So they use Bucky while brainwashed and/or still with Hydra's BS in his mind, and they don't even care to help him out after? They see a victim and they use him and then turn away from him, not caring about his well-being? And, I assume, Howard and Lady Brexit are still framed as good guys? And how are they any better than Hydra in that story?! The absolute nerve...

Once I read the spoilers a few days ago and saw they were going to have her as Director of SHIELD, I just knew they were going to absolve her of everything and never have her answer for any of her actions. And of course the only one who says he had "heard rumours" was Howard, not her. She's an angelic glorious being incapable of doing anything wrong. What in the absolute narrative protection is this...

Howard and Miss Brexit couldn't possibly know about Bucky... yeah, right. Except for the fact that they knew what Zola had done, because Steve told them, and they still willingly worked alongside him, even gave him a nickname. Oh Arnie, my beloved, wasn't it fun when you tortured Steve's best friend? Let's have some beer. I don't see how Miss "I shoot innocents when I'm jealous" Brexit could have recognized Bucky considering she didn't give a damn about him after Steve risked his own life against her wishes to save him, but apparently in this she can tell who he is even with a mask on? Damn girl, did you inject the serum in him yourself?

And I'm sorry but what is this... “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long gone.” Excuse me? Oh, good enough to use but not good enough to save? How is the everloving hell is that even a line?! Oh my god, Marvel, just say you hate Bucky and go. I don't get it, what, he's the guy who ruins their beloved Steggy nonsense and they can't help themselves, they have to drag him through the mud for daring to be more important to Steve than Miss Brexit here? (And I say that as a non-shipper but holy crap, this is nuts.)

Not even in another timeline are these two somewhat redeemable. And Bucky is fucked up no matter what. Typical.

So the Infinity Saga had Stark as their golden boy and now it's Agent Brexit's time to shine... Will the Hero Cinematic Universe ever provide any heroes of narrative protection or are they going to choose the bad ones only? Oh, you're a soldier kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed? Go ahead and make amends, you monster. Oh, you willingly worked for the TVA and tortured and killed because you wanted to? Poor you, let us frame you as good and pat you on the back, you sweet thing.

Wow, I got mad in this one. Sorry. I have the Bucky feels right now 😜😂

#I'm so happy I'm not watching this series #anti peggy carter #mcu critical #what if spoilers #pro bucky barnes

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slymewitch · 2 months

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Slyme’s stats

Hp: 65

Attack: 12

Defense: 17

Magic attack: 23

Magic defense: 18

Speed: 10

STR:+1 DEX:+1 CON:+2 INT:-1 WIS:+1 CHA:+1

Skills: Persuasion, Investigation, History, animal handling, arcana,

Slyme’s equipment

Mana Arnis, upgraded mechanical body (cannon, rockets, and blowtorch, rune slots), spellbook, coat, glasses, blue tophat, backpack of holding, journal,

Slyme’s inventory

a gold dreidel with gears spider legs and a tank of red liquid, weed, slime dye kit, cute pink bunny themed armor, flask of Sybjorn's Wonderful Brew of A Thousand Effects, empty gun, a bucket, popsicle, 18 healing potions, vampiric shield, arcane halberd, ring of heat metal, bracelet of druidic illusion, monocle of sigils, stareater dragon nest map, strange pendant, GAU-8 minigun, luck crystal necklace, 4 slime potions,

Slyme’s spells

Fireball, slyme’s water slash, minor healing, shield ward, levitation, summon light, speak to goats, bubbles, Tueux’s soap of persisting bubbles, gather experience, summon duskbolt, summon burgerbarian, water ward, speak to plants, lesser control, lesser lunar blast, summon raven familiar, lesser control magma, summon leafcrest, lightning bolt, water sphere, ice blast, electro orb,

Slyme’s recipes

Sybjorn's Wonderful Brew of A Thousand Effects, spirit sight potion, gorgon’s brew,

Slyme’s team

Golbat: level 24

Misdreavus: level 34

Joltik: level 29

Lapras: level 35

Level: 5 (next level 160 xp away)

Lives: 654

Gold: 0

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glitchy576 · 6 months

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Why the Water Tower?

I have had a not healthy obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio lately, especially Jack Dawson and Arnie Grape. So I'm going to write for Arnie. Also sorry I haven't posted in a bit I was grounded so yeah!

I push my few strands of my hair as I watch my boyfriend ascend the water tower. He kept turning around and waving.

"God, will he get down!"

Ellen stated, obviously ticked off. I slightly smile.

"He'll come down, I'm just worried if one day, he'll just... well, slip!"

Gilbert snatched the mega phone out of the cops hand and began talking.

"Match in the gas tank, boom boom."

I could see Arnie mutter a few words to himself before looking back up at the tower.

"Match in the gas tank boom boom!"

Gilbert repeated much louder.

"MATCH IN THE GAS TANK BOOM BOOM!"

Arnie basically screamed, then he just climbed down the tower. I ran over to the latter. Once he made it all the way down I pulled him into my arms.

"Hi sunflower!"

I grabbed his face as he began speaking again and kissed him. He just laughed a bit.

"Don't do that again Arnie!"

"S-sorry."

Gilbert walks over to his truck and I follow, hopping into the trunk with Arnie. He plopped his head onto my shoulder.

"Look its the water tower!"

He yelled lifting his head.

"NO NOT THE WATER TOWER!"

This was so short but I just had to put something new out so here. I hope you enjoyed it though.

#x reader #y/n #what's eating gilbert grape #leonardo dicaprio #johnny depp #arnie grape #gilbert grape

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 ao3

Joyce drops off Will, El and Mike with more homemade food after they’ve had dinner, which makes Steve smile.

“Tell your mom I’m not gonna have enough space to put all of this in the fridge.”

“You can just eat some of it and then you will have space,” El says, matter-of-fact, “like what Eddie is doing.”

Eddie pauses in his eating of Koogle chocolate spread straight out the jar.

Steve laughs loudly.

Eddie sighs, leans into the melodrama of it. “Damn, right for the jugular. Haven’t I suffered enough?”

El makes a show of thinking in response. Eddie watches her with infinitely growing fondness, how she fights to keep a straight face, unable to stop her smile from breaking through. “No.”

Eddie slumps against the counter like he’s just received a fatal blow.

“Hey, person without a cast,” Steve says dryly, “help put some stuff away, this isn’t a hotel.”

“I dunno, Harrington, you seem like the type to have monogrammed dressing gowns and shit.”

The tips of Steve’s ears turn a damning red.

Eddie pounces on the sight with a delighted grin. “Oh dear god.”

“Eddie—”

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers, like he’s found the Holy Grail. “I was just talking out my ass man, but. You do.”

“Only ‘cause Robin—it was one joke Christmas present, all right?”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

They all make short work of putting the food away, but the kids linger in the kitchen, like they don’t want to say goodbye just yet.

It’s funny, Eddie has distant memories of Hawkins characterising Will Byers as a quiet little kid when he went ‘missing’, but there’s hardly any of that shyness now. The only slight hint of uneasiness Eddie can discern is that every so often, Will’s hand will rise up as if to scratch the back of his neck, like he’s hardly aware that he’s doing it; he spots El catching his hand in hers once, gently pulling it back down—does it in such a way that it never draws attention.

If anything, Mike is the quiet one, which is tripping Eddie up; he’s so used to his vocal commentary at Hellfire. He can’t tell if it’s just general post-nearly end of the world exhaustion or—something else. He doesn’t know what.

From the way Mike is standing, shoulders occasionally hiking up to his ears, Eddie gets the feeling that he doesn’t want to be asked about it.

Will does the majority of the talking, spends most of the time making references to what went down in California that Eddie can barely follow, revels in teasing Dustin about Suzie—

“Wait, Henderson’s girlfriend is real?” Eddie says.

Dustin glares at him. “Hey!”

Steve nods seriously. “I know.”

Dustin spins around, pokes Steve in the side. “Hey.”

Bizarrely, this prompts Will into an enthusiastic rendition of NeverEnding Story, which makes Dustin groan as if he’s been plagued with it for centuries. But there’s a celebratory sound to all of it, to the way Will sings cheekily, even the way Dustin is rolling his eyes—like they can’t believe they can afford the time to just be silly.

Under the cover of the kids’ laughter, Steve leans forward in his seat, catching Eddie by the wrist.

“Hey, later could you—would you mind helping me up the stairs? I wanna…” He pushes back his hair, grimacing. “Got, like, a sink wash in hospital, but it wasn’t that great.”

There’s a self-conscious air to how he speaks, how he keeps fiddling with flyaway strands of hair.

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Eddie says, matching Steve’s lowered volume. Still look good to me.

They wait until they’re alone—Dustin leaves in Joyce’s car, too, with a firm, “I’ll be back,” flung over his shoulder; Steve snorts, “Sure thing, Arnie.”

Once they conquer the stairs, Eddie’s shoulder aching from Steve needing to lean on it, Eddie optimistically believes that the rest will be plain sailing from here.

Steve’s set up on a stool, and Eddie’s standing in the bathtub, about to see how far the shower-head can stretch.

Steve is in the middle of saying, “Oh, just watch out, don’t think I changed the temperature from when I last—”

Eddie’s elbow catches on the dial. He shrieks as he’s immediately hit with a blast of cold water.

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezes, finally managing to switch the shower off. His hair is sopping wet. “How am I the freak? What kind of monster takes a cold shower willingly?”

And Steve laughs so hard that he nearly falls off the stool, as if the light-heartedness of the kids earlier has lifted his spirits, made him giddy.

“You look,” he says, through a raucous fit of giggles, “like a drowned rat.”

“Excuse me? Oh, tread very, very carefully, Harrington,” Eddie says, raising the shower-head in warning.

Steve raises an eyebrow coolly. “You’re bluffing.”

Eddie is, in fact, not bluffing.

“Oh wow.” Eddie makes a low whistle, like he’s just discovered a rare antique. “Why isn’t this behind glass? This shit is history; it should be preserved.”

Steve blinks, gives him a sardonic look from where he’s lying on the bed, leg propped up with pillows. “Pretty sure I’m not the only person to own a Hawkins Phys. Ed T-shirt.”

Eddie scoffs, shaking out the shirt with a pointless flourish before putting it back in the closet. “Yeah, but you, like, wore it.”

“Oh, sorry, I misunderstood you, man. So I’m the only person ever to wear a Hawkins Phys. Ed T-shirt.”

“You know what I mean, asshole.”

Before Steve got round to actually washing his hair, they had spent a lot of time just goofing around, trying to soak the other. While attempting to ensure that it was a fair fight, that Steve didn’t overbalance on the stool, Eddie ended up nearly braining himself on the tub’s faucets—but maybe he really did suffer a head injury, he reasons, otherwise there’s no excuse for what he says next.

“You made it part of your whole thing, you know? Like, yeah, people wear clothes, but you wore outfits.”

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “Shut up. You’re making me sound like a sitcom character.”

“Oh, but you were,” Eddie says, grinning with the knowledge that he’s about to be very annoying. “Did you see yourself in the school corridors? You walked like you had your own theme music, man.”

“Says you,” Steve retorts. “I think a laugh track would’ve helped your cafeteria sermons.” And before Eddie can attempt a theatrical gasp of offence, Steve points at a baggy sweater in the closet. “Hey, gimme that one, it’ll do.”

Eddie actually puts some effort into properly aiming the shirt when he throws it, but Steve almost drops it. Eddie turns, ready to tease him, because Steve Harrington is hardly known for fumbling a catch, but stops when he sees the stricken look on Steve’s face.

“What is it?”

“I just—I just remembered,” Steve stutters out, eyes wide. “Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry. Your vest.”

Eddie stares, uncomprehending. “Come again?”

“Your vest. Damn it, I didn’t even think to ask for… they must’ve cut it off me or—”

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie says, and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He shakes his head to try and clear it of the awful image they must’ve cut it off me conjures up then says, with fervour, “Steve. Don’t worry about it. Like, honestly, truly? Do not worry about it. I really can’t stress how much I don’t give a shit.”

Steve frowns, clearly still unhappy about it.

“I’ll just steal one of your polos and call it even.”

Steve smiles weakly; Eddie still counts it as a win. “Mm, I have it on good authority that the Phys. Ed T-shirt is highly sought after.”

“Damn, what idiot said that?”

Eddie turns while shutting the closet, glancing over at Steve as he does so. That’s when he sees it, sees Steve’s bare skin as he takes his shirt off, about to change into the sweater—

There’s no bandages wrapped around his middle anymore. They have healed faster than any normal wounds should, but that fact doesn’t diminish the way Eddie’s stomach lurches at the sight: the gouges in the skin from the bats, and several deep, ragged claw marks. There’s a sudden ringing in his ears; the wetness of Steve’s blood on his fingers…

He feels his knee slam against the bed frame distantly, like it’s happening to someone else. Then Steve’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, and he’s thrown back into his body, and he tilts—

“Hey, hey, you’re all right,” Steve says, and he pulls Eddie down to sit on the bed.

Eddie sways, tries to stand up again—but that just makes the sudden faintness worse.

“Woah, take it easy,” Steve murmurs, and Eddie blinks and blinks until his face swims into view, eyebrows drawn in concern. “God, you feeling okay? You went white.”

“You were bleeding,” Eddie says stupidly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tips his head down and just breathes.

And then he feels Steve gently guide his hand to rest over the wounds. Places it there, puts his own hand on top.

“Not anymore,” Steve says simply.

Eddie traces the marks. They don’t feel overly cold which helps. His hand rises and falls with every breath Steve takes.

Steve keeps his eyes on him, doesn’t let go of his hand until Eddie can stand again.

Steve has already drifted off to sleep on the couch when the phone rings.

Eddie picks it up with a quiet, “Hello?”

“E-Eddie?”

At first, Eddie doesn’t recognise the voice on the other end. It’s only when his name is repeated that the realisation hits.

It’s Mike.

Eddie has never heard him sound so uncertain, not even when he was first invited to sit at Hellfire’s lunch table.

“Hey, Mike,” he says, can’t stop a note of anxiety bleeding through. “What’s up?”

“It’s… it’s Nancy,” Mike says. He starts off almost reluctant, as if he’s worried about breaking some sort of sibling code by mentioning her, but the sound of his true fear quickly overrides that. “She—she left, and she told me she was gonna, um, call you, or something? I don’t know, but she… she’s not back yet and I… I don’t think she did. Call you.”

“She didn’t,” Eddie confirms, grabs a piece of his hair and pulls.

Mike’s voice pitches a little higher; he sounds very young. “I don’t know where she’s gone. Eddie, she didn’t even take her car.”

“Okay, okay.” Eddie’s eyes dart about the room, land on Steve’s car keys. “Hey, Mike? It’ll be okay, man. I’m gonna go get her.”

He heads for the door in a mad dash, one arm through his leather jacket. Before he goes, he takes the time to write Steve a note—if he wakes up, Eddie figures that there’s no point in him just sitting there alone, worrying, so he settles for something that will hopefully make him laugh instead.

Back soon. Totally not stealing your car. Cross my heart. On an unrelated note, I took your car keys. -E

He finds her at the trailer park, of course. Sitting right by his and Wayne’s place, in the spot where…

She’s hugging her knees, pressing the side of one cheek into them. Her boots are muddy again.

Eddie gets out of the car with more noise than is strictly necessary, so she’s not startled by his approach.

“This wasn’t the deal, Wheeler,” he says mildly, sitting down beside her.

She’s shivering.

Eddie tries very hard not to look at the trailer; it’s just a shell now, it’s just…

“Sorry,” Nancy says, too quiet. “I was… gonna call but. Lost track of time.” She sniffs, mumbles into her jeans, “Had enough of driving.”

“Why?” Eddie asks carefully.

“Because.” Nancy sniffs again. “I had to drive Jason Carver around town.”

For a moment, Eddie forgets how to breathe.

“What? Why the fuck would you even—? He could’ve—”

He stops talking abruptly as Nancy shakes her head, looking scarily calm about the whole thing.

“No. He would’ve killed you immediately. Not me; he’d have to think about it before he… It was… a calculated risk, I guess.”

Eddie barks out a sharp, fearful laugh—remembers Steve saying that him and Nancy were too similar and thinks yeah, no fucking kidding.

“Wheeler,” he breathes, “that was a stupid move.” It feels inadequate for what he actually means, which is some panicked stream of We’ve come too close to losing people, but the terror cuts down his words, makes them small. Stupid.

“He had a gun,” Nancy says, voice flat. She hovers a hand over her side, and Eddie doesn’t need to see it to know that there’ll be a mark there, from where the gun was pressed into her skin.

“Jesus Christ. Are you—”

“I’m fine. He didn’t…” Nancy sighs. “He didn’t do anything, really. I did most of the talking. Just… drove around. Stopped in a parking lot, right where one of the cracks… It’s still visible, only a little bit. Then I just. I asked him.”

“Asked him what?” Eddie says hoarsely.

Nancy’s smile is grim. “If he believed it,” she says. Her voice is as cold as steel. “If he could honestly sit there and think that a boy, that you could have done all this. And I could tell from his eyes that he didn’t, but that he was in too deep. Too cowardly to…” She seethes, spits out the next words: “I told him he could go rot.”

“Wheeler,” Eddie whispers. “God, please tell me he didn’t hurt you.”

She reaches for his hand. Squeezes. “No. I promise. He’s… everything’s being dealt with. It’s bigger than you,” she says, not unkindly. “Plus there’s—we’ve got some, um.” A tiny smile, a proper one. “Unique resources. It’s getting buried, Eddie, I swear, everything to do with you. I’m—we’re working on it. We just. The idea is to, um, replace one paranoia with another, that’s how we sell the—not a full lie, just…” She sets her jaw. “I don’t want you to be looking over your shoulder, ever again.”

Eddie has countless replies on his tongue, namely, What the fuck does all that even mean?

Is this why he’s hardly been given a second glance in the street?

Out loud, he says, “That… sounds like a helluva lot of work. You—you don’t have to—”

“I needed to.” Nancy smiles weakly. “That was the whole plan, right? Find Vecna, kill him. Clear your name.” Her smile falls. “I don’t like… I don’t like things being left… unfinished.” She sighs, repeats, voice small, “I needed to.”

It sounds different this time. Like if she didn’t have that objective, she’d fall apart.

It throws Eddie. How can he be that important? But he looks in her eyes and can tell she means it with all her heart.

“Eddie, I…” She looks down at the ground. Briefly presses the back of her hand to her mouth. “I need to apologise to Steve. To you.”

Eddie stares at her. “No, I’m… kinda confident that you don’t.”

“No, you.” Her hand starts to shake in his. “You don’t understand.” She looks at him, eyes filled with tears. “I saw it. I saw everything. When he—when Henry showed me… there was so much of it, and it was so fast, and I. I just convinced myself that I was wrong. But then, when I saw you driving. And Steve. There was… this look on his face. And I knew—I knew he was going to die, because Henry… he showed me what he was going to do.”

Eddie can feel himself pale. Nancy withdraws her hand, turns away from him.

“I’m sorry. I thought I could stop it, if I just kept it in my head, it wouldn’t… oh, God.”

“Wheeler. Wheeler, look at me.” Eddie waits until she does, her face wet. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

She moves forward, trembles in his arms. “God, Eddie,” she says, distraught, “it was awful. The whole thing.”

“Yeah.” Eddie leans his head against hers, shuts his eyes. “Fucking sucked.”

“You wouldn’t stop screaming,” Nancy whispers. She jerks her head over to where Eddie parked Steve’s car. “You fell there, and I—I was so scared you wouldn’t get up again. I told you that you had to let h-him go, and it. It was like you couldn’t hear me, and a-all I could think was I’m going to lose them both.”

Eddie inhales. Exhales. She’d gotten him out. Time for him to return the favour.

“Nancy. Come on.” He gently guides her to stand up. “Time to go home, ‘kay?”

Mike’s waiting outside when Eddie drives up to the house; the headlights illuminate him, his too short dressing gown, his gangly teenaged vulnerability.

Nancy fumbles with the car door handle. Sighs through a sob. “Oh, Mike.”

Eddie watches them embrace, how they cling to one another. He sees Mike raise his hand while still holding onto his sister, sees him mouth Thank you.

Eddie doesn’t pull away until they’re both safely inside.

The fact that he’s driving Steve’s car helps him keep it together for the rest of the drive: the thought that he cannot be seen in public having a breakdown in it.

And then he’s back at Steve’s, and Steve is still asleep, thank God, and there’s an uncontrollable tremor to his hands when he sets Steve’s car keys on the table.

Shit, is he going to throw up? He might.

Oh no you don’t. You’re not waking Steve by upchucking onto the rug, get it together.

“You’re fine,” Eddie says, tugging harshly on his hair. “You’re fine, you’re fucking fine.”

He forces himself to breathe in and out as the wave of everything crashes over him, until he no longer sees the trailer park flash across his vision, like a ghostly afterimage.

When the worst of it is over, he perches on the arm of the couch, then carefully hovers his hand near Steve’s face, just so he can feel him breathing.

See? He’s right here, you’re not… not back there. Not anymore.

Steve stirs very slightly at the movement.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, still catching his breath through the remnants of panic.

Steve makes a soft, questioning noise. And then Eddie feels a finger, tracing letters on the back of his hand.

OK?

Eddie smiles tremulously. “Yeah, I-I’m… I am now.”

Eddie stays up all night.

It’s not so bad, not when he gets to see Steve wake up for his early morning meds, taken so he can have breakfast with the upcoming dose in a few hours.

“Huh? You’re never…” Steve yawns. His hair is soft from being air dried last night, falling into his eyes. “Never up this early. Not normally.”

“First time for everything,” Eddie says, which is easier than my heart was beating too fast to sleep.

Steve doesn’t call him out on the obvious dodge, still drowsy, growing even more so after he takes the pills.

“You bored? Can put something on if you want, but Dustin might’ve left a… a tape in the, um…”

Oh, there you go, Eddie thinks fondly, and watches as Steve falls asleep mid-sentence.

Some time later, he’s not sure when, the sun starts to poke through the curtains. It’s a dull kind of brightness, but still bright enough to make his eyes blink a little more… and more…

He’s been moved to lie on the inside of the couch. Eddie turns his head, feels the warmth of someone next to him. Steve.

“Hi,” Steve says, looking down at him with a smile. “You want some breakfast? Dustin dropped off doughnuts.”

There’s sugar at the corner of Steve’s mouth, like glitter.

Eddie hums, low and lethargic. “Maybe later. Just… mm.” He goes to rub at his eyes, but his hand stills then falls away from his face, a lassitude to his movements. “Five more minutes. Gotta… rest my eyes, just for…”

“Sure,” Steve says, and there’s affection in his teasing when he says, “You go ahead and ‘rest your eyes’ for a few more hours.”

“Mm…”

“Nance called,” Steve says, soft as anything, like he doesn’t want to wake Eddie if he’s already fallen asleep, but still wants him to know. “She’s okay. She says thanks.”

Eddie reaches out, eyes closed, pats Steve’s knee clumsily. “S’good.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, quiet. Eddie can feel him smoothing hair off his forehead, tracing his finger down his nose—makes it impossible for him to even try opening his eyes.

He barely catches it, nearly drifting… But he swears he hears Steve murmur, as if to himself, “You’re so good.”

“You’re warm,” Eddie mumbles without really meaning to.

Steve chuckles, so gently. Keeps stroking that soothing pattern, from Eddie’s brow down to his nose. “Am I now?”

Oh, you don’t know, Eddie thinks, and everything’s fading now, the world going all soft and indistinct, like cotton wool. You don’t know what it was like. I never want to feel you be that cold again.

#the self sacrificial steve agenda #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #nancy wheeler #eddie and nancy #nancy and mike #mike wheeler #eddie and mike #steve and nancy

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