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ally-holmes · 1 year

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A deal with Hades | Anders Johnson x OC Fem!Hades (Ch.4)

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Fandom: The Almighty Johnsons

Pairing: Anders Johnson x OC Fem!Hades

Rating: Explicit (for blood and cussing)

Content warnings: free call on mythology and beliefs, swearing and blood. Self-esteem issues. Hurt.

Summary of the chapter: When Axl confronts Anders about his slip with Gaia, he loses control a nearly kills Anders. Hades isn’t happy about it. Anders needs someone to take care of him and she makes him feel... loved.

Word count: 4266

Also available on AO3

More content in My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

This work was created to be part of the Deanobingo2023 event by @deanobingo It fills the General Prompt Card with Only One Bed.

A deal with Hades | Chapter Four

It started as it always does, with Anders screwing it up. As the Johnsons brothers and grandfather gathered in Mike's former bar, they were talking through this major inconvenience that was the fact that Anders had fucked Gaia multiple times now. Axl seemed ready to understand that it was something they couldn't really prevent, that Anders was not really to blame or, in the case of doing so, he had to blame Gaia as well. Then Anders opened his bloody mouth.

"–balls deep in–" as soon as he said that, Axl grabbed him, throwing him to the other side of the room using Odin's strength.

Anders landed into a pile of debris. It took him a second, but he clearly noticed that none of his brothers were there to help him up, showing concern. He felt a stinging pain in his neck, so he covered the spot with his hand as he got up. Then Mike got closer, and Anders saw the drops of blood that were coming out of him. A sticky sound, a metallic smell, and the warmth that he was feeling between his fingers and neck meant that he was bleeding.

"Holly shit!" Ty exclaimed in horror.

"Fuck Axl," Anders complained just before collapsing.

Hades looked at Tityus as he grunted, bored of the same pain over and over again. She was eating pistachios next to him as if he wasn't having his liver eaten by vultures. She wasn't a bad god, she was nice, and that's why she visited her condemned souls willing to get them free of their punishment if they were fully reformed from their crimes.

Unfortunately, there was no true redemption as they had committed crimes knowingly. Tityus was not ashamed of what he had done, he ensured that it was in his nature as a male to take a woman whether they wanted or not. Hades wasn't pleased to hear that. She opened another pistachio throwing its shell at Tityus' head.

With the bident in one hand, she got up, fixed her impressive silver crown, and got ready to keep walking through her realm. She had given Anders the room he wanted, and she refused to act all possessive over him. When she had seen Heimdallr open Anders' building door to a very distressed Gaia she nearly intervened. Jealousy was bitten on her body then, but Heimdallr intercepted her making it very clear that it had to be done for Odin to resume his search for Frigg. Hades couldn't deny that Axl was pretty dense and that he had let Gaia get in the way of his quest. That did not mean that she didn't have a tremendous pull to just strip the skin off of the young goddess.

Having her emotions all over the place meant that she wasn't able to adjust properly to the mortal realm, hence her presence in the netherworld.

As she was walking towards Prometheus with some hellhounds following her, the situation between the Johnson brothers showed itself in front of her. She had to go back. Now.

The moment Anders collapsed into the floor a huge beast of three heads stepped on Axl, throwing him into the floor and kipping him there with its big paws; all the heads were growling and snarling. Hades had materialized herself kneeling next to Anders, her hand caressing his cheek to guide his eyes.

To Anders, she looked even better than before. She was like the true apparition of an angel. Her bluish spark was intense and glittery undulating around her; her flaming hair gave impressive importance to the crown that sat on her head. Those white eyes were meant to emulate the most imposing of the abyss, a metaphor for the nothingness in death, but they held his heart, his soul, and his life. Relief burned through his skin. Hades was here.

She reduced the distance between them so he didn't have to talk too loudly.

"Anders, you're dying," her soft tone made him gasp. She smiled with tight lips acknowledging his horror. "I do not wish for you to abandon your mortal place just yet, but I won't heal you without your consent. What do you want to do?"

"Stay," he whispered feeling dizzy and fuzzy, lethargic. "Want to… stay."

As the last word left his lips, her hand moved from his face to his chest, and like the first time, the air was knocked out of his lungs just to come in stronger than before. He felt more alert, and touched his wounded neck, finding it completely healed but still stained with viscous blood.

Ty and Olaf sighed in relief. Hades' expression turned severe. She was pissed. Anders opened his mouth to speak but a small tap on his chest made him stop.

"Stay still, love. You've lost quite some blood, it will take time for you to feel good." He gave her a nod that she copied.

Then there was nobody close to him.

Just as fast as she had shown up, she disappeared from Anders' side and turned up behind the beast, which in turn left Axl alone. Now the beast guarded Hades' back as each of its heads looked at the healthy Johnsons ready to eat them whole if needed.

She hooked the extreme of her bident on Axl's throat at held him up, not to stand, but to wave a few inches over the floor; taking in his height, it was impressive, but again, she was a god. The youngest Johnson was shaking like a leaf on a fucking tornado.

"The only reason you're not dead right now is because the deal I have with Anders involves you being alive somewhat. You, despicable soul, tried to kill my Anders and I'm not happy about it. I really, really want to skin you with my fingernails," she growled with the most dangerous god voice of all.

"I didn't mean to," the poor young man whined.

"You still made an unforgettable mistake that would hang over your shoulders for the rest of your days, you, useless soul. Do you understand? You almost killed your brother. The same brother that trade his soul for yours to keep your pitiful ass alive." The flames on her hair grew, and instead of resting floating around her face and shoulders, they turned upwards like the light of a candle. A very dangerous one. Axl was choking with the bident, his eyes puffy and red; his face turning purple. "Anders and Gaia made what their gods wanted them to do. Yes, your brother talked trash about it, but you know him enough to understand what he was hiding then. And if you don't–" She laughed, hollow and dark. "If you don't know, disgusting soul, then you don't deserve Anders giving up his soul for you."

The bident disappeared. Axl's body dropped into the floor like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. Mike did a movement to approach his brother and the beast snapped its jaws as a warning.

Hades grabbed the boy by the hair until he was up. She made sure that his eyes never left hers, as powerful and horrific as they were. Showing off her razor-like teeth in a terrifying smile, Hades let fear consume Axl's senses.

"I want to kill you. I want to keep your soul. And I want to make you suffer for all eternity, Axl Johnson. However, I shan't do that. I'm giving you a chance of redemption, just in case you mess up again because trust me, I won't let it slide if it repeats." She waited until he nodded. "Mikkel will accompany you to Gaia, and you will make her leave." His eyes opened in shock, not liking that order at all. "Once Gaia is far away from New Zealand, you are going to find Frigg, then Heimdallr. You will perform the ritual to open Asgard's doors. You will complete your quest. Have I made myself clear?"

"But–"

"You have thirty-two hours to get rid of Gaia or I will make someone kill her." He paled. "I will make someone kill her so Iðunn can find another vessel and there will be no more conflict between your pathetic soul and my mortal. Are we clear, Axl Johnson?"

She pushed him to Mike, who caught him in visible distress. The beast growled and they left.

Anders had found the strength to sit down this his legs crossed at some point, and had witnessed the whole exchange. Hades turned to him, covered in blood and dust, looking smaller and more hurt than ever, trying very hard to pretend he was not. Her hair became its usual calm self and the crown disappeared. The beast became a playful golden retriever as it followed Hades on her way toward Anders. She kneeled down again.

"You mustn't be alone right now, Anders. You clearly need to go home and rest as well. There's a choice to make. You may either, wait here until you feel strong enough to support your own weight, in which case Olaf and Tyron will take you home, or I could take you home in a second. The second option also implies that I'll be the one taking care of you until you feel better. I won't let you alone this time. It's me or them."

Anders observed her with attention. "What do you want?"

His question surprised her. She blinked away at the shock and hummed. "I won't push my will upon yours, Anders."

"That's not what I asked."

"I– I want you to choose me."

He sighed with contentment, his body released the tension leaning forward. Anders held his hand in the offering; Hades took it and caressed his knuckles with her thumb.

"I want to be with you."

After his whispered words, Anders found himself in the bathroom of his apartment, seated on the toilet with Blanc waiting on the door and Aïdi still kneeling in front of him, holding his hand with care. She was wearing a soft cotton baggy sweatshirt in a grayish-blue color, obviously, and jeans. Her hair was pulled in a messy ponytail and he couldn't help but feel a little pull in his heart with how casual and comfortable she looked in contrast to her lawyer outfits that were professional, fancy, and tight.

Fuck, he was dizzy.

"You're still recovering blood. You must need plenty of liquids and food rich in iron. But first, we must clean you up. Would you feel comfortable with my help or should I bring someone?"

"One of your minions? Like Dementia or something?" Anders tried to joke.

"Hum… I mean, he's retired, but if you want I could–"

"You know someone named Dementia?"

"Of course. I told you I ran out of names."

He couldn't help it, he laughed. It hurt him slightly and made him way dizzier, but it was so absurd and she was so cute in her confusion that he was unable to stop the giggles.

"No… No, it's fine. I don't want anyone else."

As her hands worked in undressing him, Anders felt warm and comfortable. His eyelids were heavy, making him blink very slowly, and his eyes always focused on her. Was she blushing? Cute. Once his clothes were out and on the floor, he saw the blood and it hit him. He nearly died. If it hadn't been for Hades, he would be dead.

She opened the faucet but didn't pull him under the spray until the water was nice and warm. He shouldn't find it fascinating that she wasn't getting drenched in water while being just next to him, she was a powerful god after all, but he was, in fact, fascinated.

"You're amazing," he mumbled half out of his mind.

Her eyes opened in shock, her cheeks burned, and she huffed a "shut up" incredibly cute.

The spray hit his skin with fervor, pulling out any remains of blood. She was scrubbing him methodically; his chest, his shoulders, his back… It felt nice. His knees were wobbly still hence her need for using some of her magic to keep him standing. Hades washed his hair at last and turned off the tap.

"Feeling better?"

Anders had not noticed that he had closed his eyes until her whisper registered in his brain. Yeah, he felt better. Clean, stronger, less dizzy… Aïdi was looking at him with a concerned frown, eyes big and shiny, biting on her bottom lip with worry. He reached for her face, caressing her cheek, using his thumb to pull the lip free from her teeth. She, who had stayed dry while showering him, had now a wet trace from him. Anders wanted to kiss her, but he didn't know if he should.

The shower was just the beginning. With comfortable clothes on and Blanc resting his head on his foot, Anders and Aïdi shared a meal that seemed excessive but that he ravished nonetheless. He didn't want to be surrounded by silence, but he was not ready to face the traumatic experience that he had just faced, so he asked her questions about the netherworld and she decided to carry the conversation telling him about the changes that were taking place on her palace to try to catch Internet in order to prevent Anders to feel boredom in the future; she also mentioned Tityus and how she was so tired of him that sometimes she just ate pistachios next to him to throw its shells to his face. Up until this point, Anders had no idea if Hades needed to actually eat or if, by being an eternal being, she had no such need.

It's not until he's able to get up and walk alone to his bedroom that it hits him with full force. His brother killed him. The only thing that kept him alive was his deal with Hades, without it, he would have been dead. Axl had killed him. Axl had–

Anders fell to his knees unable to breathe, hands clenching onto his chest with desperation. Blanc whined licking his face and pawing his arms to claim his attention.

His brothers. Mike and Ty. His grandpa… none of them had approached him after Axl had thrown him away. None of them had shown shock or displeasure. He could've got badly hurt!! Fuck, he DIED!!

Hades' arms wrapped around him offering pressure. His head hid under her chin. Blanc kept whining, now pressed against Anders' chest as he hid his face in the dog's fur.

It hadn't been new, to be honest; the apathy of his brothers that is. Anders was five years younger than Mike, and only fifteen months older than Ty. When they were little, their parents had already enjoyed Mike as their firstborn hence there was no novelty in the second child, much less if another one followed close behind. As they grew, Mike's obsession with being the big brother was overwhelming, especially since it translated to "I know better. Do as I say." Their parents were a fucking mess too, so they didn't have much time to spare for their children. Their father was more absent than not, and their mother was stressed about having to be the provider for the family. Ty was the youngest and more sensible one with a clear anger management problem, so he received attention. Anders did not. He just blurred into the background unless he made people pay attention to him.

At first, it hurt that the only time people looked at him was to yell or complain, but then he got used to it and it was better than just being ignored. As he grew, he thought that he had managed to build some sort of tight relationship with Ty; they treated them almost like twins in school and that was nice. Making fun of Ty, bickering with him, being bothered by him… That was their dynamic. Then Axl came into their lives when Anders was seven. Mike felt more responsibility setting in his shoulders and became nastier towards Anders because he did not approve of the way Anders treated Axl. He did not treat Axl badly; he was his baby brother. It's just that Anders didn't act like an older brother as Mike did or as Ty wanted to do, Anders just played with his brother, allowed him to accompany him in his mischief, and enjoyed having someone to teach him the better way to snatch cookies without being caught.

Then their parents left, both of them, leaving Mike in charge and Anders getting the official title of black sheep of the family. It didn't matter what he did or what he said, it was wrong either way. He was sixteen, he had lost his parents and he was being psychologically abused by his older brother. It hurt, and Anders had intrusive thoughts for quite some time, but then he just decided that if he had to be a nightmare to survive, then he was not going to stop it.

He didn't stop worrying about his brothers, though. When he saw the way Mike was trapping himself with Val due to the guilt he felt, he tried to help in his own way knowing that words wouldn't do anything. It that the opposite effect. Having Mike grunt at him "don't go near Axl" hurt pretty bad. Anders endured it. The moment he saw Axl bleeding on Mike's floor after the demigod stabbed him, his heart crumbled. It didn't matter that they had pushed him aside more than once, Anders couldn't just keep his mouth shut and let all his family die. He did a deal with Hades for them, all of them.

Did he do it so he could get recognition or love from his family? No. It would've been nice, though, that they didn't fucking forget about it after a bloody month!!

Anders felt miserable and lonely. A growing void burning inside of him.

"You're not alone anymore, Anders." Aïdi's soft voice betrayed her true emotions, as there was something terse there, some contained wrath that made Anders understand that he had been thinking out loud, opening himself to her. "For better or for worse, Anders, you will always have me."

That was… reassuring.

She managed to place him on the bed and turn off the lights. Blanc jumped in, pawing him until he left him on the right side of the bed, under the covers. The golden retriever made two circles on the spot and then curled into himself letting go a sigh. Hades smiled from the foot of the bed.

"Blanc's a cuddler. It will make you feel better to pet his fur until sleep comes to you."

Anders nodded; his eyes stung from the tears shed. He lay on his right side, Blanc's body emanating warmth against his torso. From the corner of his eye, he saw Aïdi ready to leave the room and his head shot up.

"Where are you going?" He demanded in a panic.

"To the couch."

"Stay."

"An– Anders. There's only one bed."

"So?"

She blushed fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "One bed, two people, Anders."

"So what?"

"Well, according to my investigation on mortal matters from the last centuries, when two people share a bed it means that soon they'll be sharing their blooming romantic feelings for each other."

Anders let himself fall into the pillow and burst into a belly laugh. "Do your research on humanity by watching rom-coms?"

"Yes."

"Shit… My heart is not going to survive this," Anders mumbled. "Get in bed and sleep here. Unless you feel uncomfortable with–"

"I do not! I want to sleep with you!"

Now Anders blushed violently. "Then let's share the bed. Get in!"

"Fine! Don't yell, you're still weak."

Getting into his previous position, Anders started to run his fingers in Blanc's fur and it was clearly soothing. However, Hades was laying on her back, hands intertwined on top of her belly, eyes glued to the roof, and as far away from Anders as the bed allowed her to be.

He sighed with loving exasperation before looking at her from his shoulder, "Do you not sleep?"

"Of course I do!"

"Doesn't look like it."

"I don't want to be overbearing."

Anders grunted, "Come here and spoon me?"

"Why do you need a spoon?"

He gestured with his left arm for her to come closer, and as she did, he arranged them so Hades was hugging him from behind, one of her hands pressed against his chest. Now that Anders could feel the comforting warmth from Blanc and Hades surrounding his body, he could relax and surrender to sleep. Aïdi relaxed as well, her nose caressing his nape absently.

Anders wasn't someone used to sharing his bed to sleep with someone, much less cuddling like that, but it felt so right that the idea of an eternity just like this seemed pretty good to him.

Sleep came to him with easiness allowing him to fully rest, his tension disappearing. By the time he opened his eyes again, there was a warm light filling the room and he noticed that he had turned during the night and now Blanc was sleeping as long as he was, back to back with Anders while he had his head tucked under Hades' chin, still being the little spoon. She was so warm and the whole scene felt so good that he didn't want to get up.

On the few occasions in which Anders had gotten to share a bed to sleep it had been an accident due to the exhaustion from sex and he had most certainly bolted from the bed as soon as he had noticed another body next to him. Helen had been as focused on the sex as himself, therefore they hadn't shared a bed to sleep in, unless by accident. However, after the incident between Helen and Aïdi, the goddess of apples had become restless and pushed her right to sleep on his bed. Her argumentative tone gave him migraines, so he ended up accepting her presence, but going to the couch as soon as she was asleep. He hated those days. Anders knew that it wasn't very nice that he felt such an amount of relief that she was dead, but fuck he did.

He sighed with contentment. Hades' hands caressed his shoulder and arm when she noticed he was awake, but she showed no indication of wanting to get off the bed either. Unfortunately, they couldn't delay the inevitable. Anders got up with trouble as the blankets kept twisting between his legs and Blanc thought it was a fun game to jump into his back to push him to the bed over and over.

All done in the bathroom, Anders went back to the bedroom finding it empty and with clean bedding on. A heavy weight settled in his stomach as loneliness crept under his skin willing to consume him entirely. Then he heard it, the sound of Blanc's claws against the floor as the dog approached him from behind. The golden retriever looked at him waving his tail.

They were still here.

In his kitchenette, Aïdi was preparing breakfast with a new combo of comfy clothes. She looked at him over her shoulder, answering his awed look with a frown.

"All good, love?"

"I thought you left," he blurted out.

The recognition made her stop her movements and turn around, "Oh… I guess I should've let you know. I just went home to change, Blanc ran some laps meanwhile."

"I– I guess I'm not used to being with a true god that can…" he gestured with his hands.

"Telentransport?"

"Is that what it's called?"

She shrugged, "I never gave it a name. Do you feel better?"

As she resumed breakfast, Anders drank the familiarity of everything.

Hades warned him that as long as he was alive, there was no possible way for him to visit the netherworld when he asked. However, she had a house in Auckland and gave him the address as well as a copy of the keys with the invitation of using the place whenever he needed.

"I've been thinking about something," he decided to approach the topic that was dancing on his mind once they ended their food. "It's about the contract."

"Uh-huh."

"Does it have secondary effects or something like that?"

"Like what?" She frowned.

"Mm… Don't know. Like– Like dependency, you know, mess up feelings or something like that."

"No. There was this one time in which one of the giving souls turned out to be allergic to the Fire of Life, so I made them reincarnate. But no, usually the giving souls resent me for taking them on their word. That's what I thought you were feeling…" she ended with a mumble.

"No! No, it's not that. What's the Fire of Life?" Anders decided it was best to change the subject.

Aïdi pointed at herself. Anders frowned.

"My hair is blue. Fire blue. Get it?"

"That's the Fire of Life?"

"Yup. Most of the fire in the netherworld is blue because of it. There's also the Fire of Perdition, which is pure red and reserved for very bad souls. However, when it comes to the fire that provides light, like in my palace, the blue is so clear that it looks white."

"Your palace still works on candles?"

"I mean… They never run out."

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me."

They shared a look in silence and then both broke into a loud laugh.

To be continued in Chapter Five

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gentletrees · 7 months

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Some doodles from different scenes of @ssreeder 's fanfic LIAB! I literally drop everything when you upload QuQ <3 thank you for putting so much effort into this fic, it really shows! I love it!

Really wanted to capture the two most heartbreaking moments of the last few chapters - two very, very different reunions with very different underlying emotions.

And the last one is a doodle after reading the most recent chapter - Zuko wearing his hair in a messy ponytail, dressed in expensive clothing - moments before disaster :))

#atla #prince zuko #liab #into the fire #fanfic fanart #tw: injury #zukka #leaving it all behind #i completely lost my grip on how his hair looks after Sokka got his grubby hands on him!#but canonically it grows like 2cm a day so...

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turtleblogatlast · 1 month

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[ cw: injury mention / jokes about death / ]

Love when people depict Leo like-

Leo, covered in grievous wounds and having several broken bones: Ew, Staten Island? Anyway lmao that sucked-

Leo, with a paper cut: My LIFE is OVER I am SUFFERING I am DYING I leave all my comics to Mikey, Raph gets my posters and figurines, April can have everything else in my room, I guess Dad can have my swords, Donnie you get NOTHING until you admit I was RIGHT back when-

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #100% Leo was the type to be like I can’t come to training I broke a nail #nah I can’t exercise today I stubbed my toe #what do you mean I can’t go out it’s JUST a flesh wound (said flesh wound is still actively bleeding)#*eight thousand puns about the terrible injuries he has just completely downplaying them*#guess a shell’s not all it’s cracked up to be! (he says with a cracked shell)#it’s CANON it is

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lelelego · 1 year

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waiting and waiting

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #courier six #craig boone #boone/courier #hi here's a comic i worked on off and on in between stuff ft. the worst possible pairing - a canon character + a player character #what do you mean i have to create content my damn self #this was also literally just talking heads for like 3 goddamn pages hell on earth but theyre just sitting there!!!!!! help #oc: eli #doodly thingy #fallout tag #blood /#violence /#injury /#knives /#long post /#comic

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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two!

First part is HERE.

Next part is HERE.

Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.

Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged.

"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth.

He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him.

"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food.

Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater.

Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted.

His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen.

Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie.

Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up.

"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time.

Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him.

"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention.

No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin.

All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away.

"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage.

Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes…

"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!"

He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!"

"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood.

It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks.

She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet.

At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve.

"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side.

"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy.

Not that he could stop it because what the hell.

"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.)

"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?"

Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order.

Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--

"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling.

"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker.

Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought.

“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?”

“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.

Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both.

Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed.

There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall.

"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!"

As if that made any fucking sense.

Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did.

He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve.

Right now? Eddie Munson was furious.

Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river.

He was enraged.

"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better."

It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted.

"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.)

Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom.

"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out.

It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.

"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses.

Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair."

It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough.

"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?"

"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink.

“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!”

“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering.

“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.

Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged.

Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name.

“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off.

His hands were still shaking.

“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.”

Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve.

“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"

“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.”

Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.”

Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers.

“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.”

There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back.

Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers.

Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.”

Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking.

Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly.

He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup.

#tw drugs #tw canon bodily injury #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #eddie munson #Gareth Emerson #Gareth and Steve as cousins #secret cousins #whose family had a falling out #Eddie is fuckin PISSED #he may be a drug dealer but he is a drug dealer with MORALS #how dare someone drug people in his town!#mind hes thinking Steve somehow took a hit for Robin and then they still got Robin anyways but ya know #Gareth is having a full bore anxiety meltdown #He just wants his older cousin to be okay : ( \

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incorrectbatfam · 10 months

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damian calls tim a spineless coward (affectionately) and tim says “its ‘spleen’less coward, actually”

Tim: What if I got a rubber spleen to match your metal spine?

Damian: ...Die (affectionate).

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canisalbus · 4 months

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To me, Machete kind of has the energy of a secondary villain/coldhearted side character in someone else's story that a lot of fans latch onto, moreso than the protagonist. Question is, would he be the villain in anyone's story?

Why, thank you! I'm actually glad to hear he gives off that vibe. I don't think he set out to become a villain but a lot of people certainly view him as one.

#in the 16th century canon he starts out as an introverted but sincerely well meaning guy that never quite manages to find his social niche #he was a sensitive kid and when subjected to enough pressure #his insecurity fearfulness and powerlessness mutate into distrust resentment aggression suffocating repression and self-restraint #I don't think he's a bad person in fact he consistently tries very hard to do the right thing #do his job properly avoid letting people down and get through life with a sense of dignity #but he is supposed to come across kind of cold impersonable and difficult to be around if you don't know him personally (and very few do)#people can sense there's something wrong with him and are put off by it #Vatican is a nest of vipers and as the stakes rise he retreats deeper into his coldblooded untouchable work persona #he has no choice but to start lying scheming blackmailing and eliminating his enemies #in order to maintain his position keep Vasco safe their relationship under wraps and his own head above water #essentially playing by the same rules everyone else in the holy see has been playing with for centuries #eventually he loses his spot as the secretary of state and is manipulated/forced to take on a role in the roman inquisition #and if people were sort of iffy about him before being the authority overseeing trials torture excommunications and executions doesn't help #and since he has so few allies and such an infamous reputation he's an easy target for scapegoating whenever necessary #towards the end it dawns on him that he's become the kind of twisted cruel corrupt person he used to fear and despise #and the guilt moral injury and abject self-loathing had largely sapped him of his will to live by the time the final assassin gets him #answered #anonymous #Machete #Vaschete lore #he thought his dream of priesthood would make him a better person more worthy of admiration safety and love but he climbed too high #and got roped up in the dangerous games that take place under god's nose and slowly got strangled to death

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insertsomthinawesome · 10 months

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Okay I started this waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back right after Episode 10 launched. Yeah. Ages ago. I actually finished it around probably 1-2 months ago??? I've just been slow to uploading it ^^;; Back then I was... not necessarily theorizing??? But had fun indulging in an idea like this xD

-NO ROMANCE INCLUDED-

#Trigun Stampede #Trigun Stampede Spoilers #Vash the Stampede #Nicholas d Wolfwood #Meryl stryfe #Meryl trigun Stampede #WOlfwood trigun Stampede #Vash trigun stampede #blood #injury #Isa's fanart #InsertSomthinAwesome #June2023 #I had a moment where my energy for working on this seriously disappeared too lol #thats why I only finished it a bit ago despite starting it before episode 11 even came out #There was a freaking wing!!! Got that right!!!! Much happier w Orange's design than my own xD #While this would've been good fuN I much prefer how the canon finale went #I feel its more fitting for Wolfwood's character and just. fits a lot better in total #Being season one having things wrap up so nicely.. not sure it woulda fit

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eggdrawsthings · 1 year

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now there are more of us, but there was only one of you

#I'm sorry your canon!mom didn't care about you Paz here lemme fix that for ya 😔#the blood doesnt make much sense but i just wanna be dramatic so wtv lol #my art #paz vizsla #the armorer #the mandalorian #mando #star wars #tw blood #tw injury #does it count as injury if this is just blood splatting on statues???

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tsubaki94 · 10 days

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Clockwork reverse injury (Colored)

With @green-with-envy-phandom-event finishing, I'm compiling the entries with my lineart colored (and coloring it myself) This one was in the gore chatagory.

Starting off we have @jamiethebeeart who made this version taking the ghostiness to the next level with the transparency of Danny and making an elaborate background.

And then we have @ecto-stone who gave us this version and I have never thought of using gold like this but it fits. Also, the glow and x-ray piece is beautiful and creeps me out in a good way.

#danny phantom #clockwork #greenwithenvy2024 #injuries #canon typical violence

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ask-zerotrio · 5 months

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grief that runs deep

Clavell talks to Cyrano, after an AU where Clavell is the one who confronts the PPP possessed AI professors.

#director clavell #director cyrano #professor sada #professor turo #zerotrioshipping #i present a genre of old man yaoi so complicated and distanced from canon that is so self indulgent #making that kind old man sob his heart out 2023 #doomed polycule for clavell 2023 lmao #anyway drawing crying in a way that's emotive and not over the top ish is very hard #if you get me you get me #cw injury #cw choking #cw violence #//ooc #technically this fits into the trainer clavell au I have

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mickules · 1 year

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An alternate epilogue for A House Made of Cards

A Breach of Trust might be @phantomrose96 's best known mp100 fanfic, but A House Made of Cards is such a solid punch to the gut, I often find myself returning to it. The slowly mounting dread when you realise exactly what is being going on, just enough to haunt you, and your imagination supplies the rest.

But, I'm a baby, and because where the fic leaves off is agonising, I had to indulge in a little alternate post-script, exploring a different possibility.

The actual fic is not so kind . . .

#mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #shigeo kageyama #dimple #fanfic fanart #a house made of cards #phantomrose96 #I've never met an ambiguous ending that I couldn't biguate #I almost forgot to draw the cards smh #canon typical violence #blood tw #head injury tw #mick fnart #mp100 #mickules

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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.

Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.

Giving up your time for the greater good.

‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.

Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.

Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?

That was how evolution worked.

The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.

She didn’t regret leaving.

Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.

Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.

No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.

And absolutely, 100%, no magic.

(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.

Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)

See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.

Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.

Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods.

One absolutely covered in snow.

Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.

These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.

The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.

Happy.

Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.

That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.

He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.

A baby reindeer distracted him.

It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.

Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.

He was right.

A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.

Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.

Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.

He dreamed of the snow.

The gentle way the woods felt.

It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.

Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.

So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.

That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.

Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.

What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.

The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.

Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.

It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.

Not until he heard the crying.

“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.

The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.

(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)

“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.

He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.

“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”

His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.

“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.

“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.

Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met.

Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too.

"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?"

Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.

(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.)

“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”

“You’re not bad.” Steve told him.

He got a glare for it.

“How would you know?”

“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”

Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.

That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.

(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)

“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”

It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”

He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.

“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles.

“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.

“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious.

Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad.

“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”

That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.

Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.

Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”

He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”

“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.

In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.

Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter.

In retrospect, this was his downfall.

Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.

Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.

Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.

Remember Eddie.

Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.

The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.

He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.

Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.

“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.

Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.

It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.

Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.

“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.

Like Steve didn't know.

“I just wanted to see the lights.”

“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”

Steve shook his head.

“No but I could feel them.”

Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.

“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”

This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.

Something his Uncle seemed to sense.

“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind. Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”

Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.

“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back.

Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.

(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.)

“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.

“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.

“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.

He did though.

He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.

Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.

Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.

He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.

(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)

Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.

They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.

His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.

Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.

Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.

(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.

Steve never did.)

xXx

The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.

It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.

He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.

Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.

“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.

Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.

Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.

He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted.

Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.

(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.

It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.

Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.

Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears.

He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)

xXx

Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.

This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.

Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.

Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.

Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.

Laughed as the other guy sputtered.

“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.

“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.

His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.

Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.

“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.

Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.

Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”

He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”

“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”

“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”

Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.

Those people, the people his parents liked?

They loved it.

“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.

Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.

“People do too.”

He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.

Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.

How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.

“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.

"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.

Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.

Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.

Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”

That made Steve pause.

Really look over the guy standing before him.

The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.

He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.

Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.

It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.

Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.

Abandoned.

“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”

At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.

"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”

“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”

He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.

“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.

“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.

Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.

xXx

Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved.

She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.

Felt similar.

Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.

It was great.

Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.

Then Barb went missing.

Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.

Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.

(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.

How it made you act after.)

There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.

And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.

This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.

Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.

It was kind of a lot, really.

Particularly because his parents weren’t home.

(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.

The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.

Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)

Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.

Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.

Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.

(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.

God that asshole hit like a train.)

Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again.

Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.

It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.

Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.

Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home.

He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird.

Steve ignored it.

He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.

(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.

Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.

How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.

It was probably just the head injury.)

Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.

It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.

Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--

Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.

“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.

“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”

“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.

Man, this snow was nice.

Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.

There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.

“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”

“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.

“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”

He gestured to his own ear again.

(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)

The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”

The North Pole.

The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.

“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.

“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.

“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.

He didn’t get an answer.

Which was okay, he thought.

He didn’t really need one.

He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…

“Steve!”

He blinked, and found he must have passed out.

“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.

The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.

Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.

“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.

“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”

He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.

Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.

“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”

“What?”

It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.

“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”

The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.

Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever.

“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.

It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.

“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.

“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.

It felt nice.

“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.

Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”

He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.

“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”

Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.

“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”

That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.

“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."

“Yeah?”

“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”

Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.

That felt nice too.

“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”

“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.

(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?

Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.

Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)

Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.

“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.

“I can’t keep him awake!”

That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked.

“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”

“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”

Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.

He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.

One last thing he needed to say.

“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”

The magic took him away.

xXx

It smelled like cinnamon.

Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.

Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.

It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.

His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.

The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.

It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.

Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.

As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.

“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”

Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.

“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.

“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”

So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.

“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing."

Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.

Even if it hurt.

Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.

Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.

Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.

(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)

Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.

It was cute.

It made him look cute.

“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.

Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.

Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.

Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.

“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”

“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”

Which sounded about right, considering.

“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”

Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.

“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.

It made him grin.

“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.

He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)

Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.

“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?

“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!

“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”

Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.

(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.

Steve figured he’d ask later.

After he had finished groveling.)

“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”

It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.

Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.

He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.

Hell he called Steve sweetheart.

And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.

You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.

Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”

Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”

“I'd like to still be friends.”

“Even if I'm gay?”

Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.

“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is."

He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.

(Regretted that a little bit.)

He got a mighty frown in response.

“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”

“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”

Pretended that he was normal.

Just like his parents wanted.

Then he’d met Nancy.

Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.

Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.

Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.

“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”

He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?

Might as well reveal his whole hand.

“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.

Continue.

“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”

Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.

“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”

It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.

Instead he felt lighter than air.

Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.

For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.

He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind.

If anything, it just solidified it.

Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.

Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.

“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”

Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back.

xXx

Bonus

“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.

“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”

“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”

“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.

That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.

‘Dustin is gonna freak.’

“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”

“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”

“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”

“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.

“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”

Steve gaped at her.

“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.

“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.

Because Robin was right.

The hole was gone--and his magic was back.

How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?

“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”

He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.

“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.

Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.

(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”

“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”

“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”

“Ew, ew, ew-!” )

This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!

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