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courtingchaos · 7 months

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At the End of the World

Kas!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

A/N: Don’t read too much into this. It struck me late and fast and now we’re here.

Warnings: Blood drinking

18+ NSFW No Minors

Another late night closing with just you and two other employees and all of Hawkins at the doorstep to Melvalds. The deeper fissures in the town still sat open but the government had shown up with all sorts of machines and now things could be delivered again and here you were, at work. At the end of the world.

Your keys jingle against the door and you wave off your coworkers who walk down the sidewalk ahead of you. The lock sticks sometimes and you’re left to struggle until you can yank your key ring free. A curse and a kick at the stack of cardboard you need to toss, you shove your hand into your purse to make sure you didn’t forget your wallet again. The main street stays lit by giant floodlights, the distant sound of road work and construction coming in with the late evening breeze. It’s cold now when the sun sets, October turning the weather and the leaves all the same like the earth hadn’t been split open just 5 months ago. You catch a whiff of a bonfire sprinkled on the back of the wind and for a moment you can pretend that everything is okay, that it’s all normal again.

10 pm and it’s later than anything in town stays open, Melvalds and the grocery store being the exception nowadays. Food and pharmacy to keep everyone afloat and stationary, locked in place by faceless government officials who tell you it’s for your own safety. For everyone’s safety.

You shake your head to clear it though, unwilling to linger on your pessimism any longer tonight. A long day full of half smiles and constant running back and forth to pull apart another pallet of Things Everyone Needs. Your room at your parents house, the one you’d moved back into after everything went to shit, calls to you from the cracked sidewalk and you hustle faster to toss your garbage and get to your car. The water mains have finally been repaired so you know you can actually look forward to a consistent hot shower tonight, can practically feel the beating of the water against your back.

You beeline for the alleyway so you can toss the empty cardboard, no thought given to a darkened path. Hawkins had been under curfew since the feds rolled in and with main street lit up you hadn’t worried about taking out the trash on your own in a while. You have to set the box down to to flip open the lid and that’s when you hear it. A muffled breathing from behind dumpster number two, something wet and ragged, something that makes you still completely. It’s human that’s for sure, heavy and big by the sound of it and you start yelling at yourself silently, cursing your placidity.

You take a single step back when you see a head rock into view near the wheels of the other dumpster. Too dark to make out anything yet, just a mass of hair that hasn’t seen a brush in too long. A rasp of a breath in and weakly, “D-do you work here?”

Frozen in place with your body poised to run, but that voice holds no malice. They stutter on their deep breaths, breaths that sound pained. “Y-yeah.” You don’t relax but you aren’t set to sprint anymore. “Are you okay?”

Neither of you move closer but the figure pulls themselves into view more, a frankly too thin hand wraps around the corner of the dumpster to pull themselves forward and you finally can make out a face covered in grime. Eyes shine in the light that bleeds into the alleyway and he, you can finally tell, looks close to tears. Face pulled into a grimace when he scoots out to sit on questionable concrete.

“I just…I need help.” His other arm hugs his middle where his shirt is torn and your mind goes fast, trying to remember the first aid you’d learned in Girl Scouts a thousand years ago.

“Are you hurt? I can go get someone.” You glance over your shoulder knowing there’s at least a cop or an agent doing rounds at this time. “There’s a patrol-“

That’s your mistake, you’ll own it, turning around for too long. For trusting a stuttering mess. You turn back to face him and are stunned at how quickly he’s standing in front of you, those bright wet eyes boring holes into your head. You’d thought it was the shadows maybe but they really are black, from corner to corner, deep abyss that tracks your jump backwards.

You hadn’t heard him stand or shift or breathe and he’s so god damn close.

“I don’t need a patrol.” His voice sounds like white noise. A tuning to your hearing that makes your ears flex backwards at the sudden foreign noise. You swear you can feel it vibrating against your eardrums and coiling deep inside, words made corporeal to slither into your skull. There’s two voices bouncing between you, a double speak that seems to run cold around your neck. “I just need one of you.”

You couldn’t move if you wanted to. It isn’t fear holding your feet to the stained ground but an invisible grip, ironclad and cold, just like his words. You can move your eyes though and you rake over his appearance and try to keep it in your memory.

Long hair, dark eyes, no shoes, ratty jeans, torn raglan with a devil-

“Eddie?” Barely breathed out, silently uttered. He was dead. Well, at least presumed. You’d seen the flyers his uncle had put up and you’d seen how the town had treated them; crude drawings and torn off of the bulletin boards. “Eddie Munson?” You ask again to the pale face in front of you. Four years of high school seated next to him in drivers ed and home ec and art class. Not friends but acquaintances. You know that face. Even when it splits into a formidable grin you can see the ghost of his warm smile under cracked lips.

“Sort of.” His hands come up slowly to hold your neck, thumbs resting under your chin to tilt your head back. “It’s complicated.”

You expect his hands to tighten around your neck but they remain gentle in their movement, too cold against your skin. Unnaturally cold under your jaw where he starts to turn your head to the side.

“I thought I smelled something familiar around here.” His breath moves over your neck like the cold autumn breeze, carrying the promise of dead things at its end. Your heart beats tirelessly against your ribs and you still can’t move except for when he manipulates you around, his head dipping into the crook of your neck.

Fear should be at the forefront of your mind. You should be screaming and shaking, yelling for the police you know are just outside of the mouth of alley. You should be fighting back at him, fist wailing into his chest to push him back so you can fly out of his grip. However there’s a creeping calm of sorts that weaves through your thoughts. It feels fuzzy almost against your brain and you don’t even flinch when his dry tongue scratches over your skin.

“I do need help.” He keeps a hand pressed to your neck while the other pulls at your work polo, baring your flesh to his mouth. “Thank you.”

You can hear him in that moment, Eddie, not whatever this thing is that’s sinking its teeth into you. It hurts only for a moment, like a prick of a needle, and you can feel your mind going blank. Thoughts slip quick like water over rocks and you catch yourself on his shoulder to stay standing. That invisible force that bound you to the spot has faded as soon he begins to suck and again you should be running but you cling. There’s a peacefulness that comes with absence of thought and worry, enough so that you barely notice him drinking your blood. You barely notice the gore in his hair or the deep scars along his cheek. Your hearing begins to fade to only the single sound of his lips attached to you.

A fade to black for all your senses.

And then you feel it. Black tendrils that sneak into your awareness. They swirl and thrash in their form, long fingers of doom that grow around you. It’s a rushing feeling like a thousand wings brushing by you, pushing air across your face and ruffling your hair.

“Do you hear it?” Eddie whispers against your ear, lips warm and tongue wet where it drags along your lobe. “Monsters in the sky, right under us.” You’ve been lowered at some point, his back resting against the dumpster and you clung to the front of him. “So many they’d blot out the sun.” His hands still hold you but they’re warm now too against your cooling skin. “They’re looking for me.” A drop of something on your nose, something thick that drips onto his filthy shirt. “For us.”

Everything is muffled except for his clear voice. Those black tendrils move steadily along your awareness still, vines creeping in to drag you under into oblivion. Your throat sticks when you swallow and you try to form words before you pass out or die. Eddie’s head tilts in close to your mouth and you can smell the dirt and viscera on him.

“Something’s…around…”

“What is it?” He makes a show of looking around the shadows of the alleyway before letting his eyes drop to your barely open ones. The deep black is gone, replaced again by the familiar brown you know.

“Not here.” You need him to understand. The fingers crawl into your vision now, the few specks of light left that you can see, great red eyes in the middle distance of your mind. “Inside.” A weak motion to your head and you see it dawn on his face.

“You can see him too?” He asks you but doesn’t wait for a response before he digs his teeth into his own wrist. Blood rushes from the corners of his mouth and he shoves the mangled skin at you, your wince doing nothing to get it away from you. He cradles your head now, knees drawn up to help hold you while he feeds you something of himself. The blood pushes past your slack lips, bitter tannin where you expected salt and copper. No fight left in you while the wind rushes in your ears and the dark fist closes over your minds eye.

“I need help.” He intones again when you latch on to his wrist finally. “Will you help me?” No double speak this time, no white noise to warp your thoughts. Eddie asks you for help while you lay in a cold alley on cold concrete and drink from his self inflicted wound. You’ve never been friends, just acquaintances, but the blood is heavy on your tongue. He holds you close and keeps you both hidden in the dark. He sees the same monstrous form you do and there’s fear in those brown eyes, still shining, still wet with tears.

Your senses stop whining like a flicked switch, your hands coming up to grasp more fully at his offered arm. You nod and keep drinking and there’s that smile again, the real one, the warm one. “Thank you.”

It’s silent now except for the sounds of your eating and the rush of leathery wings beating underneath your feet.

#Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Angst #Eddie Munson x Reader #Kas Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson #My Work #My Fic

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maddascanbe-blog · 3 months

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Miracu-class girls are done! It took less time than I initially anticipated, thank goodness. Let's talk re-write's and re-designs shall we?

Sabrina so freaking cute, give the girl her hat. It was probably a gift from Chloe. For her redesign I thought she would be the kind to dress in cute blouses and flowy skirts. She has tennis skirts in every color for every occasion. As for her re-write- anyone who saw how I changed Chloe probably will guess that their dynamic is drastically changes as well.

Sabrina met Chloe when they were in their tween years, Officer Roger having worked security for the Bourgeois on multiple occasions. One day he had to bring his daughter into work and Chloe found her wandering the halls. When a kidnapper tried to abduct Chloe, Sabrina sprayed him with pepper spray her father gave her and then kicked him in the dick for good measure. Chloe then declared that Sabrina should be her full-time body guard, and she technically is being paid to hang out with Chloe. But Sabrina would have done it with or without the money since Chloe is actually very endearing once you figure out how she works.

Alix is next! Alix's violently pink hair could not be ignored, so I kept it (albeit a little less saturated) Also she is in fact still short. Her outfits are probably all variations of sports gear unless she has an event to attend at the museum. I also tanned her up since I imagine she spends a lot of time outside, girl is sunburnt. She is actually a year ahead in history, having gotten too bored with junior level classes. So she's friends with some of the seniors too. I won't get into Bunnix anytime soon but- let's just say it's a lot more tragic than cannon would ever admit. The rabbit's powers are changing, and Alix still has to live with that.

On a lighter note, Juleka, as stunning as ever. Tall queen. She is a year behind since her lack of participation in classes ultimately tanked her grade in several subjects. Her band director was more then happy for her to stay an extra year though, since she is trained classically as well as electrically on the bass. She may not like talking, but she has little fear of performing when the music can do the talking. Her twin brother actually graduated early, and he's working now to help pay for the band the two want to start. Her design doesn't change much from her cannon one other than the fact I switched her ripped leggings for lace ones. I imagine she actually has many outfits in this color pallet, since Chat Noir quickly becomes her favorite hero.

Mylene, okay the change I made here is pretty obvious. I debated for a long time on whether or not I change her skin tone. And when I did the line art? Wasn't planning too. But changed my mind last second, since I thought it helped the color pallet more. This would imply she is mixed, with her dad looking pretty much the same as cannon. it's hard to tell her unless you look closely but I gave her freckles that just cover every inch of her. She is Sunkissed. He character isn't super different, she is still easily startled, but she knows what she believes and will fight for it no matter what.

And finally, Rose! The lovely Rosey! The flower child! Her nonspecific illness still definitely happened, but I like to think she has actually recovered. I do not know enough about most chronic illnesses to make any sort of specification on what she has so nameless headache disease it is! She struggled a lot as a kid, but now she's planning to start a non-profit to help kids who are going through hard times of their own. She definitely still has her down days, the fact that she nearly died so young is not something she is quick to forget. But she will do whatever she can to give other people hope, sinee she knows all too well what it feels like to be hopeless.

As for her design, she had a bucket of pink upturned on her. She did have to have her hair shaved as an affect of her illness but now it's growing back faster than ever. She gets it cut every time it gets past a certain length to donate it.

Luka is next!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous redesign #miraculous fanart #sabrina raincomprix #alix kubdel #juleka couffaine #mylene haprele #rose lavillant #akuma class #sabrina raincomprix redesign #alix kubdel redesign #juleka couffaine redesign #mylene haprele redesign #rose lavillant redesign

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oletus-manors-log · 9 months

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Hey! I just wanted to say I love your work and your recent Orpheus drabble was super good! I was wondering if you could do a short story about Orpheus confessing to the survivor!reader? (GN) I understand that short story’s might take longer then headcanons and dabbles, so please take as much time as you need! Thanks again 🫶

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ Hello, and thank you so much for the compliment for my recent work on Orpheus! As for the confession, I believe I can make it work with the headcannons I have listed in the past.

I'm not too sure if there's anything else you'd like for me to add with the story, so I decided to make it happen in a... Special match. Although it can be a terrible place to confess... Well, sometimes it can work out in your favor. ”

Golden Hour

The match, needless to say, was a mess.

Orpheus couldn't tell whether he regretted having to come in because he's up against himself (or, really, what he sees himself as), or the fact that he's seeing the slow descent of the match after the first 60 second chair.

As he saw the raven bird chase after the enchantress and with the journalist on her second chair, he stuck to decoding in wedding hall. The pallets were thrown in advance by him, so it would make things easier.

Since the progress wasn't done before he arrived, he had done quick work on decoding it. Although, he didn't seem to notice when someone else joined him during the halfway mark of the cipher, one cipher actually done and Alice rescued off of it.

"Seems like you're struggling over there, aren't you?"

He flinched and looked over towards the speaker, noticing that it was Alice. Ah, she was patched up— good, that means that someone rescued her.

"Perhaps," he said idly, focusing his attention on the cipher machine before it malfunctioned and electrocuted him. "But it isn't like miss Dorval is struggling against him. She's been kiting for us and you're on your last legs after being chaired twice."

Alice shakes her head as she turned the knobs of the machine.

"I'll be fine. I'll just have to stay out of sight for the time being— it can't be that hard, can't it?"

... Hm, she only has one film left, he noted, sparing a glance at the camera. She will have to make sure he doesn't catch her— her mirages of me when I was younger is... Quite a feat. It could keep him distracted if such a miracle can happen.

[ Beware! The hunter has changed target! ]

The two looked up as a crow flies over to their cipher. Orpheus shoves Alice off of it so it would fly over to the novelist, sprinting like a madman to the pallet to vault and start running out.

"Keep decoding!"

He ran straight to the church, feeling smoke permeate the air as it swirled and manifested behind him. The sound of a deafening thud echoed as Nightmare, their hunter of the match, appeared behind him, causing him to falter if not for the reminder that he would be killed if he stayed standing.

"I did not expect for you to take it instead of miss DeRoss, Orpheus," spoke the nightmarish entity as it chased him, footsteps thundering as the novelist sprinted to the window to vault. "Why? Are you trying to relive the feeling of a good chase from the past?"

Truly, he fits the name and title for himself— Nightmare, the novelist thought bitterly. It's almost like he was "invited" to haunt the poor novelist even in (metaphorically, of course) death.

"I believe we both know why. I don't wish for her to die in this match after you targeted her."

"Hm? But why not? It's quite... Amusing, is it not?" He scoffed, his gaze focused on him as the novelist continued to keep distance, making sure to break out of line of sight from the latter so he can't focus on him. "For her to take your place after she was grown, after you went missing—"

"I don't want to be reminded of that incident."

"Oh, I know that. But you'd know better than for me to let it go, would you?"

Ah, he should have known. Why the hell would he let it go, hm?

Instead of replying, he went through a pallet— this time, passing by someone he didn't expect.

SLAM!

"Go!"

He felt the wind push him as he turned to see a certain survivor stunning the looming hunter, attire ragged despite wearing it for God knows how long. He could only whisper a "good luck" as he sprinted to the window, vaulting over it before running off.

The only thing he could hear from outside of the church was the aggravated yell of Nightmare, followed by daring taunts that he could recognize all too well.

... You never change, do you? Ever the daredevil, he thought with a chuckle, this time sprinting to another cipher to decode.

Despite the mishaps from before, Orpheus could see that it proceeded as smoothly as it possibly could, considering the bird had his sights on you and not the novelist. Unfortunately for Nightmare, you were one of the few that never saw danger as one to be feared.

In the survivor faction, you were a force to be reckoned with; someone with such a job that can spell trouble to those whose never heard of it.

Your occupation was of a trickster, one assigned like the Acrobat and the Weeping Clown if it weren't for your malicious streak. Reckoned by many hunters as a "hunter in a survivor's body", you were called by many as a horseman of chaos, bringing about destruction in your wake.

So far, only few had managed to keep you down, but even the novelist knew you would find a way to make them regret their misdeeds.

Truthfully. Orpheus feared you. Unlike him, you saw danger akin to a pet, and not once did he understood what makes you tick. But perhaps, much like your occupation, you live your life in constant terror.

The way your eyes gleam as you evade Nightmare's attacks was one of such cases, and he couldn't help but fathom on how you look so... Alive.

... So free.

Alas, it had been the last cipher and he had it primed. Nightmare had already chaired you once, but by some miracle, Alice had got you out of the chair and you were kiting the man like your life depended on it. And, well, it did— you were keeping Alice from being chaired the third time as both of you were injured.

But it didn't last long when he saw the crow fly over to his cipher, and he could hear the ping from you and Alice that he's switching targets.

Back to me, I suppose.

Pulling away from the cipher, he pinged that it was primed and started sprinting, hearing the wind pull itself and manifest the living terror in his waking life. To him, he saw the man as one of monstrosity, whereas most cannot see it that way. It terrified him that only a few, such as him, can see the raven for what he is.

Swiftly getting hit with the sharp tip, he stumbled from the window he was about to vault, causing yet another deep gash to form on his back. He gritted in pain as he felt blood seep through and taint his white coat, coating it in crimson.

—And then, the two could hear the deafening pop.

Thus, the sirens follow, and mark the 'endgame' of their match.

With the sudden boost of adrenaline, he sped off, his legs screaming as he heard Nightmare's ghoulish calls. Still, he paid no heed as he looked back, constantly pinging the rest of his team of Nightmare's ventures.

Detention... A trait that no man or monster understood. Miss Nightingale briefed everyone on it when they first came here, and he still recall what she told to their group.

Detention is a trait that every hunter possesses— a trait that, when activated, causes the hunter to give into the carnal desires to kill any survivor in its wake.

No one understood how to counter it. If anything, all they can do was run. Run until they were sure that it was safe.

For those who do not will be slaughtered in its wake.

Reaching the open gates, he could hear your calls as you yelled for him to get out— that you would cover for him.

His eyes widened at this. At the state of Nightmare and with Detention of all things, the last thing he'd want is for you to be slaughtered instead of him.

He cannot have that. He won't have that. Over his dead corpse.

"No!" he yelled, yanking your wrist when you went back to bodyblock for him, pulling you forward with such strength that many do not think he would have the capability to posses. "Go! Get out, now!"

With one last curse to have Nightmare go through such pain, you and the others got out, leaving the deserted church and the cries of Nightmare in the wake of a survivor's win.

After the stressful match, he had to go to Emily as he was still injured from Nightmare. Despite the adrenaline for when the last cipher was popped, he felt the fatigue crash on him hard after they had left, and he didn't want to deal with Emily getting (justifiably) upset at his own recklessness.

Although, there was another reason on why he had to go to Emily. It was for something else... Something that he wanted to speak to her about. Alone.

"... I see," Emily murmured, currently patching up Orpheus's back with a few stitches. Checking for other injuries, she sighed, facing the novelist with a knowing look in her eye.

"I don't wish to undermine your efforts, Orpheus, but they're... Well, they live up to their occupation. Are you sure you'd want to look for them? Even I'm not sure on where they have went off to this time."

Orpheus chuckled, giving her a smile as he answered, "I'm sure. I believe I know my limits, miss Dyer. After all, I have dealt with them the longest, have I not?"

You were... A mystery to him. Something that needed to be solved. Despite how long you and him were, in the lack of terms, friends... He never really knew the answer for his question since he's known you.

Just what it is that makes you so interesting to him?

"I suppose you'd be right on that," Emily replied, shaking her head as she wrapped the bandages around his waist. "Well, I believe they went to Moonlit River Park. I tried to ask why, but all they said was that they have a show to prepare and didn't want to be late."

Tying it off right afterwards, she dug through her pockets and handed Orpheus a note. The paper was yellow and worn, but he could recognize the handwriting peeking out... Couple with a few scribbles. You were always fond of drawing in your notes, he noticed.

"Here," she said, smiling exasperatedly. "They also wanted me to give you this. Now, don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

With a nod, the brunette took the note and bid his goodbyes to the doctor, leaving the clinic. He walked down the hall, opening the note that she gave him to see what you wrote for him.

In the note, it reads...

Hello, hello, mister novelist! Surprised to get a note from yours truly, are you? ☆

Now, now... I know you must be wondering where I went! And you know me well by now, Orpheus— I am not one to give such a straight answer. Why, if I am, I'd certainly lose the title of being a 'trickster', wouldn't I?

Anyway, I'd like to play a... Game with you. How does hide and seek sound? It'd be like those we play in matches. Ah, but with less killing, of course.

I want you to find me. The doctor already told me where I am, so I implore you, Orpheus—

"—find me, and find the piece I seek."

... A peculiar note indeed.

Now, he was no detective. Unlike Alice, he never dabbled quite well into detective work; he used to do that if he needed first hand experience on writing a thriller book. However, with the manor hosting various events that does consist of solving mysteries...

Well. He cannot say that he didn't have experience on dealing with them in his downtime.

Checking the back of the note, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the note. From an unobservant eye, they'd chalk it off as something normal. But to him, he knew you enough to have something hidden in an ordinary object.

Raising up the note against the light, he hummed at the sight, reading the note more clearly.

Big tent.

...

How cheeky.

Rolling his eyes out of amusement, he lowered the note and trudged on to Moonlit River Park. This time... He has a date, and he isn't going to be late.

Arriving at the big tent of Moonlit River Park, he can see the sight of the thrown pallets around and some abandoned attractions on stage. The basement was sealed, so he assumed that it would be open on the two story building.

What was it? Hullabaloo? He should to check the name again when he sees it.

Walking on the stairs of the stage, he inspected the entire tent, noticing the sight of a note plastered on the wall. It was the same as the letter he retrieved from Emily, so he had no hesitation to take it.

Checking the front of the note, he red through what you wrote this time.

If you found this note, then I was right to put my faith in you, Orpheus. You know my tricks enough to figure out where my note was lying about, huh? Maybe I should up the ante of this game of ours...

Haha! I'm kidding, of course. Why would I? It'd be terrible if your 2nd hint is in a place you can't find so easily.

Anyway, to find where it is, the answer is what you're reading. If you're confused or, mayhaps, lost... Read it again. You'll see what I mean.

... See? What in the world...

His brows furrowed as he red through the note again. There was something in those words, and if he can take your statement for what it is...

...

Rereading through it again, he can see a pattern. From your writing, it was hard to tell, but there were letters that are emphasized more than others.

... I'm at 2nd stop. Hah, how cheeky of you.

Tucking the note away, he left the stage and raised one of the flaps, running out of it. The faint chime of the circus music echoed around the map, haunting yet nostalgic for those that have witnessed its glory. For Orpheus, though, that brought some... Awful memories of his losses there.

... Ah, he can't be reminiscing now. He needn't remember what happened in one of his visits here.

Reaching the other side of the large map, he could see a bird perched up on the rails, perking up to see the novelist arriving by the stairs. With a chirp, the blue bird flew to him, its claws carrying another letter.

Whispering a 'thanks' to the bird, he watched it fly off before opening the third letter in his hands.

Moonlit River Park is a beautiful place, isn't it? Regardless of what many may think, the circus holds a special place in my heart. Such a shame that the tragedy has ruined it for what it's worth...

... Such is beauty, I suppose. The manor holds such unique yet curious people, just like you.

Where am I going with this? Hm, good question. I wish I have the answer to that, but I'm not sure if I have one. After all, I lack the voice to speak of such a thing, or to answer your inquiries.

Now, if you wish to look for where I really am, you'd know where to find me this time.

Why, I can see you now, little novelist. Look over to your left.

Look ove—

"Boo."

Orpheus could feel his heart give out for a moment, his head whipping to see you peering over him with a cheeky grin. Seeing the look of fear in his face, you couldn't help but laugh, your voice ringing in the air of the abandoned park.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face, Orphy," you said, amusement ringing in your voice. Jabbing him lightly, you snickered, "Perhaps I should subject you more to such simple mysteries. I'm surprised you manage to get through them!"

Orpheus scoffed. Despite your streak, he swore that you were but a child to someone like him.

"Hmph, and you should know that I have a weak heart. Not everyone can keep a straight face when they're snuck up from behind."

"Yes, yes," you drawled, patting his shoulder. "I suppose that's true. I'll spare you the... Worse I can bring, then."

... Just for me? How kind, he thought, but he didn't voice that out to you in fear of being seen as ungrateful.

"That aside, do you need me for something, [Name]?" he asked, finally facing you, raising an eyebrow at your demeanor. "Forgive me for saying this, but you never reach out to me first other than to cause mischief."

"Oh! Right, about that..."

You paused, your head turning slightly to the side. With a sheepish laugh, you continued, "I just... Wanted to bring you here. I remember you telling me that you never got to see the park when it wasn't used for matches— well, not without Memory, but that's understandable— so-"

Ah... So that's why.

...

Despite your behavior, you have a kind heart.

That is one thing he cannot deny that he liked about you. You may have a sadistic streak, but your kindness will always shine through it.

"... And I thought of getting Antonio as well, because he was planning to perform, and—"

"[Name]," he said, cutting you off. You perked up at him, humming to let him know you were listening. Orpheus couldn't help but let a chuckle slip, giving you a smile that was different from his usual poker face.

This one was more of sincerity— an emotion rarely seen of the novelist.

"Thank you," he continued, his eyes closing for a bit as he let out a soft laugh. "But please, you don't need to do this much for me. If anything, just being here with you is enough."

Before he can stop himself, he reached out to grab your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.

"... If I'm being honest, I am not a man seeking of such lavish and desire simplicity. However, since meeting you, you showed me just how adding a bit of uniqueness and extravagance can make things more memorable."

He could see your eyes widen at his confession, but he continued, as if he didn't wish to stop.

"Truly, I must blame you for claiming my heart as your own— you do it so effortlessly, it feels more like you've know how to weave me into your tales. However, as unfortunate for some, I don't think I'll be able to blame you for stealing it."

Tightening his grip, he reached out and grasped your cheek— watching as you relaxed on his hold.

"Not when I'm about to do a crime of my own, little trickster."

Under the guise of the sundown, the rays begin to emit such a glow that can make things more enchanting to the observant eye.

And a kiss was sealed, the untold confession of the novelist marked in the midst of golden hour.

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skullytotheark · 22 days

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Hi Hi!

I don't usually share my art here BUT lately i've been growing more comfortable w/ ppl seeing my art [as u can tell w/ latest creepyhornets entry]

So I wanted to share My some drawings i did for my fanfic series!

Click more for Art!

[i have alot of readmores on my post so i can navigate my account easier LOL]

Tobias Rogers / "The Colorado Axeman"

Age: 19 [current/present age in fanfic]

As you may remember from the last time i shared his design, His jacket is heavily inspired by the reboot buttt I did eventually change it to better fit his 'colour pallet' [or colours i associate toby with heavily]. Now having a slight 'foresty' colour pallet associated with him in this canon

Lore:

At this stage Toby is struggling alot w/ his own thoughts on Slender to the point he regrets Becoming a proxy in the first place. After returning to his old burnt down house Toby finds a old metal box that contained his sister's jacket. To this day Toby wears the jacket as asort of comfort and kinda like a pass me down jacket as memories of once were begin to haunt him, Along with 'unsuspected guests"

Age 16 / year one proxy: [Past Toby]

For a very good while i've been struggling w/ a 'year one' toby design but within time the og hoodie grew on me, So i gave him the og hoodie but I removed the blue hood. As you may know, Toby was much younger when he became a proxy in my au. Spending most of his time homeschooled within a tense household

Lore:

At this stage Toby had just killed his father and narrowly escaped, Unknowing hypnotized Toby believes that he owes Slender his LIFE to the point he's willing to serve Slender with every order.

Chernabog / 'Eyeless Jack'

Ever since Chernabog joined Slender as a proxy or servants of sorts. Chernabog or better known as eyeless jack dawns a somewhat iconic / original inspired design. A black jumpsuit along with a balaclava underneath his iconic mask [also i'm still VERY new to drawing plus size characters [im also kinda proud how it came out] and kinda hc him to be slighty plus size. Mostly cuz i wanted him to have a unique silhouette comapired to other characters. That and I also think it'd add to intimidation if you just see this 6'7 silhouette in the darkness watching you]

Lore:

Some time after agreeing to work for the Operator / Slenderman, Chernabog better known as Eyeless Jack. Roams inbetween towns collecting fresh meat not only for the Operator but for himself with his new boss's permission.

I know you've probably seen this but I really like how this came out for being a slightly rushed doodle, Featuring The Operator and my Oc Grimace! Grimace has his own little entry into my fanfic series and will have entries featuring him every now and then!

The Idea for The Operator's design in my au is kinda to be more tree like! In this image the tentacles Slender is known for comes from the roots at the base of his feet [at his feet?? I mean idk if he has feet or not at this current point. I mean he might] he also appears somewhat statue and organic like, As if a human was kinda made from bark, roots and what not. I also just really love drawing Slender like this it's funny

That's all I think i can share for Creepyhornets so far But i've been really happy with how some of these drawings are coming out. I dont say it much but i'm extremely proud of the process i've made with this year even though i only just started spending time on practicing how to draw. If I showed u before & after of my art you'd def see alot of progress

Anyway that's all for this post! I'll try to draw some more creepyhornets related stuff eventually! Hopefully draw more of these two since I'm happy with how they came out with my latest drawings

#marble hornets #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #slenderverse #fan au #fan writing #ticci toby #eyeless jack #slenderman

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thy-spicy-orange · 1 year

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At long last, my analysis on the down fall of the cartooning industry.

Cartoons have long been a medium of storytelling for all ages. You’ve got things ranging from Dora the Explorer to Family Guy.

And you’ve got all the in between’s that (while not rated for all ages) everyone can watch. Like Miraculous and The Owl House.

Cartoons (or animated series) as a whole have always been made for everyone. The use of beautiful and fluid animation is a great way to draw in viewers and get them engaged. And then in most cases, the plot comes through and gets viewers hook, line, and sinker.

Unfortunately as this form of storytelling gains popularity, the stigma around it continues to grow. That stigma being that Cartoons or animated series are only for children.

The idea surrounding that stigma is false. You wouldn’t let a child watch shows like Family Guy or South Park or even Camp Camp. And those are cartoons.

With the rise of more child friendly cartoons though, the misconception continues to rise as well.

The most prominent example of this in the Modern Animation Era? The Owl House.

Despite the creator, Dana Terrace herself, tweeting about her target audience for this show, many still believe that this show is for kids only.

This was only proven false though when Kids weren’t tuning in though. In fact, a majority of Owl House fans consisted of people ages 13-25. Not the audience Disney expected.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the audience they wanted either. In 2021 Disney announced it would be canceling the show and shortening its third and final season into three, hour-long specials.

A lot of Fans (and even the creator herself) speculate it has to do with Homophobia seeing as the show featured Disneys first WLW/ Sapphic couple in a children’s cartoon. And while I think that definitely contributed to their decision, I think there’s a bit more to it than that.

The Owl House, from the get go, set itself apart from other Disney Series. It jumped in with its darker concepts and art styles. The color pallet was different from Disney’s typical pastels. The character was relatable to audiences and portrayed the struggles of growing up different and weird.

Then, after a good Season 1 A, the second half came in. Here’s when the plot developed. This is where I believe Disney began to have problems with it.

Because of the complicated storyline and development of actual plot they couldn’t just air it on the Disney Channel on cable.

Which means they couldn’t get children to sit still and watch when it was on. Which means less people watched the Disney Cable channel.

Essentially what is happening is Disney as well as other streaming and Cable services are “kidyfying” Animation to make it cable worthy for children.

Hence The Owl House “not fitting their brand” and being cancelled while shows like Big City Greene and The Loud House have been, and traditionally are, aloud to run for multiple seasons one after another.

And shows like Infinity Train and The Owl House get cancelled or shortened.

I believe the act of doing this will truly be the downfall of the cartoon industry.

By reducing cartoons and animation to be kids only your depleting 75% of your audience. The 75% that is able to go out and buy mercy or go to see movies produced about the shows or convince adults to continue paying for services to watch these shows.

They’re killing their biggest sources of revenue and with it killing one of the greatest forms of story telling through television.

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #toh #the owl house #infinity train #shera netflix #over the garden wall #amphiba #gravity falls #cartoons #animation #winx club

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gumnut-logic · 24 days

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Armour

For @sofasurf because of this post.

Only a short thing and not really addressing the challenge as I did a little research and in 700AD there wasn't plate armour and most stuff in Ireland was light. Plus our boys fly dragons, so instead we have padded leather armour. I also stuffed up the removal of even that.

Scott demanded POV even though I wanted to write Virgil's and the scene suffers from his lack of coherence.

But anyway, we have 500 words of something Thunderdragons. I hope you enjoy this tiny bit.

-o-o-o-

“Scott! Scott, look at me! Look at me!”

His brother’s eyes shone from a grotty and blood smeared face.

“Virg…” It was an exhalation, almost a last breath.

“Scott, you stay with me. Stay!” His brother knew how to yell, his deep voice echoing in Scott’s head, back and forth, back and forth.

He realised he was being carried. “Put him down here. I need boiled water and cloths.” Hurried footsteps darted out of the tent.

Something came up behind him and his body sunk onto a hard surface. A wad of soft fabric was tucked under his head as the room spun.

“Brother? Flaith!” His helmet was removed as a hand held his jaw. Scott opened his eyes to find dark eyes glaring at him. “Keep your eyes open, Flaith.”

Curse, Virgil only called him Flaith when he wanted to piss him off.

But it worked. Scott struggled to pull himself together. He had been on the battlefield. There had been an attack. Óen had been beneath him…

“Flaithri!” He sat up, his muscles working on memory before informing him that there was injury, the reason why his healer brother was now yelling again.

Virgil’s voice was so loud!

But arms caught him and lowered him back down to whatever it was he was lying on.

“Scott, please.”

It was his brother’s soft hiss that slammed reality home.

He was injured. But…”Flaithri?”

Virgil’s eyes answered him without words.

So, their grandfather was taken by the Scourge from across the Western Sea.

“Father?” Their father would now be Flaithri. Please.

There was a tear running down Virgil’s face. “The Flaithri has instructed us to prepare to retreat.”

“We are fleeing?” Scott struggled to sit up again, but Virgil held him down.

“You are injured, Flaith. I have been instructed to make you ready for transport.”

“Virg…”

“Please, Scott.” Again with the whispered plea.

When he didn’t respond, Virgil let go of his shoulders and began removing his flight leathers.

Scott swallowed as Virgil gently tugged at the ties at his throat, unlacing his padded armour. His brother’s breathing was tightly controlled, but that tear was still tracking down his cheek.

“Virg…”

His brother wiped his face on his sleeve. “You have injury. We need to clean-“

“Virgil.”

But his brother was looking away as he called for assistance, and the healer’s attendant hurried in, lugging water and cloths. As they removed the leathers from his side, they caught in clotted blood, leaving Scott gasping and barely hanging onto reality.

As if taking the opportunity, hands then poked and prodded and placed pressure on the source of so much fire.

The warmth of his brother’s hand on his cheek slowly drew him back from the edge. Sweat was beaded on his temples; his lungs grabbing for air.

He was bare-chested, still lying on a healer’s pallet. Virgil’s worried eyes still hovered above him.

“You will heal. But you need time and rest.”

“I have neither.” His father would need him.

But Virgil grabbed at his shoulders, again preventing his rise.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes, more than just Scott’s injury.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Virgil’s eyes closed and his head dropped.

“Virgil?”

Something shuddered through Virgil’s frame and when he looked up, Scott could only feel fear.

“What is it?!”

“Mother was taken also.” The words rasped across his brother’s lips.

Time froze.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Scott.” There were tears in Virgil’s voice.

“No.”

Virgil closed his eyes again.

Please, no.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderdragons #nuttyfic

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honoviadakai · 2 years

Text

Diaboys at a Carne Asada with Hispanic S/O/Reader: Sakamaki edition

Shu

So you’d have to warn this lazy ass at least a week in advance so he can mentally, physically and spiritually prepare to be productive and social

He’ll go but don't expect him to hold back on the complaints on the way to the gathering

“I could be blissfully sleeping right now...but I’m coming to see your family with you...You owe me big time later...”

Generally he’s polite and will say Hi to everyone but he’s not loving how loud it generally is so he might just stick to you like glue

If anyone starts speaking in Spanish to him his brain freezes and you’re now his translator

He’ll pick up SOME Spanish by the end of the day but I stg its nothing useful, its mostly lewd stuff

Honestly not a fan of the music...at first. Let him kinda absorb the music and he’ll find a weird appreciation for it

Might be up for dancing if you ask nicely beg

Enjoys the food until he experiences your tias, mom and abuelita ganging up on him and insisting that he eat more

Best way to save him is to drag him onto the dance floor

Honestly he’s not gonna know what to do at first because the music is so new to him

Let him find his rhythm because when he done...honey he’s so good at Salsa dancing it should be illegal

He’s so smug about it too and will ABSOLUTELY try to make the dance as sensual as possible just to rile you up

He’ll socialize with the older males of your family like your dad and tios quite a lot because the talks are much quieter than the actual party area and honestly he kinda loves vibing with them

Absolutely hates the beer though, Cerveza is just not his cup of tea

Tbh not a fan of any of the alcoholic drinks tbh, they’re either too sweet for him or they taste too strongly of alcohol for his pallet

LOVES Jicama though

Can’t handle spicy food but low key really likes the flavor for some of the spicier dishes???

But don’t give him too much of the spicy dishes cuz he’s dying after one bite…yikes…

Wont play with your younger relatives if they ask him to tbh, he doesnt have the energy

He WILL, however, talk to them and tell them stories if they REALLY wanna hang out with him

Because of his low energy, your family has nicknamed him “El Güero Flojo” or “Huevon” by the end of the night

Honestly kinda liked the experience and he finds your family endearing

“Going again sounds annoyingly exhausting...but it could be fun...”

Reiji

Hooboi this boi is really out of his element here

First of all, he’s 100% going because he wants to meet/impress your family so convincing him is not the problem

The problem is keeping him there the whole time

His big issue is that while he’s aware that many cultures exist, he did not live in that reality. He’s a vampire prince and he’s use to a specific genre of “family gatherings” so this is a bit much for him

Poor boi is so over dressed one of your tios might offer him a change of clothes

Honestly he takes it purely because he saw what was being served and knew it was the better option to 6 hours of washing out stains on his Stefano Ricci suit

He’ll try to be social with your family but honestly he’ll be a little painfully awkward at first.

Honestly just let him go help out in the kitchen and everything will be fine

He’s so helpful and efficient in the kitchen that everyone lets him take charge of serving everyone, the only struggle he’s facing is he has no idea what the food is or how to prepare it but give him a quick recipe and explanation and it ain’t even a problem fam

The Kids there weirdly like him???

Like, they think he’s a little stuffy and strict but he makes really good pozole so they like him

He wont play with them necessarily but he will spectate him if they ask him to and he’s weirdly like a little cheerleader for them in his own way

“Don’t kick the ball so hard. Pick up your knees more when you run...There we go Miguel, much better form.”

Don’t give him spicy food…he can’t handle it…like at all….just don’t

Really likes tamales and other dishes like it because it’s presented in a nice, neat little package

He HATES the alcoholic beverages, cant even smell some of them without making a disgusted face so he can’t have a cerveza with the men to bond

He can however listen to them as they explain the brewing process of drinks like tequila, he’ll even take notes!

Picks up Spanish weirdly fast so he WILL understand you and your family by the end of the day

He’s never heard Hispanic music in his long life so dancing is definitely not his strength this time

Give him a hot minute and you’ll both discover he’s really good at Rumba, Tango and Salsa dancing.

ABSOLUTELY will help clean up after, you expect him to leave dishes dirty in the sink even at someone else’s home? Absolutely not!

Over all kinda enjoyed experiencing you culture with you and your family so he won’t be opposed to returning

“Your family is quite different from mine. I actually didn’t mind it, perhaps we can return another day.”

Ayato

Oh hes gonna LOVE this

A social gathering where he can eat, drink and dance to his heart’s content, be casually himself and no one’s gonna scold him for it? sign him up!

For sure the life of the party

Boi can tear it up on the dancefloor, like ayo come get your manz before he accidentally makes your cousin Dolores swoon for him

Absolutely AMAZING at dancing Cumbia, Cha-Cha, Bachata and Reggeaton

Your Abuelita loves him tbh, he eats and talks with her(mostly cuz she spoils him and he LOVES it)

He can handle some spicy dishes but not all so be careful

Loves all the savory dishes tbh

Cracks a cold one open with the men, quickly learns the way of “cerveza and chill” and just bonds with a bunch of your tios, cousins and even your dad

High key likes Cerveza with lime and salt and straight tequila

LOVES Fanta, like he had 16 bottles by the end of the day

Even the kids at the gathering love him cuz he plays with them when they ask, like they are fighting over who gets to play with him at some point.

Does not understand Spanish, doesn’t really learn much while he’s there, will 100% act like he understands what everyone is saying

Over all loves the experience, 10/10 wants to go again soon

“That was fun! Ore-sama demands to come back for another party! Especially if your mom makes arepas again!”

Kanato

...Finna be honest...leave this one at home...

Getting him there in the first place is a miracle, getting him to be polite and sociable is a whole other beast

If he does go, he’s honestly gonna act like a bratty feral cat 90% of the time

Will probably legit get mad if someone tries to talk to him in Spanish because he doesn’t understand what’s being said to him

God help you if he gets into an argument with someone...it wont be pretty for all parties involved

I can for sure see him getting into an argument over candy or desserts served at the gathering because he’s gonna wanna eat it all and not let any of the kids or other guests have any

He’s definitely gonna get smacked with a chancla...and it goes down hill from there

you honestly might have to leave early...or just...stay home

Laito

Ok so you’d think he’d be a disaster right?

WRONG!

He’s actually pretty pleasant to have at the Carne Asada

Except for a few things...

He might check out a few of your family members just to tease you.

He might even flirt with them just to get a reaction out of someone...you’re gonna have to protect him from any fists that come flying his way honey...

Other than that he’s much like Ayato in that he’s a social butterfly that will dance the night away with you and just enjoy spending time with your family

Some of the food will be a little too heavy and/or spicy for him but he’ll eat every bite he’s given to make you and your family happy

Not a huge fan of any of the beer your tios brought but that aint stopping him from socializing bby!

They might tease the hell outta him for not liking the beer though

Like Shu, he’s gonna have trouble picking up Spanish but he will learn quite a bit of it!

Unfortunately…he will learn some dirty things…blame your teenage cousins

He will be somewhat conversational in Spanish though, will need you to translate though

Likes Tequila though and he absolutely will try to do a tequila shot on you

Honestly his favorite drink isn’t even the tequila, it’s the Grapefruit flavored Jarritos soda

Will also play with the kids if they ask him but unlike Ayato, he doesn’t have the unlimited stamina needed to play with children

This man is a MASTER of Bachata, Samba and Reggaeton so be prepared to be literally swept off your feet

Honestly really loves your family, culture and traditions so he’s for sure gonna wanna come back anytime someone invites you to a carne asda

“Fufufu~ That was fun, Bitch-chan! I could’ve stayed for ages if it hadn’t ended!~ I hope we can come back soon!”

Subaru

*evil chuckle* oooh this one’s gonna be fun!

He THINKS he knows what hes getting into when you invite him along to your family’s Carne Asada

HE’S WRONG! OH SO WRONG!

The moment he steps into the host’s house it’s nothing but welcoming, smiling faces and embraces from your family

Watching this boy get severe whiplash from the warm and welcoming atmosphere is both hilarious and heartwarming

He’s gonna be an awkward duck in the beginning so expect him to just kinda follow you around like a lost puppy

As much as he’d like to hide, he stands out like a sore thumb because of his albinism(being an undead vampire doesn’t help tbh) so he’ll have no choice but be subject to your family asking him if he’s cold while putting a heavy coat on him despite already having one, relatives insisting he sit in the sun with them and everyone giving him heavy and hearty food because for some reason, they’re convinced he’s anemic

The irony HA

It’ll take time but he’ll start to open up and even like the loving, familial atmosphere

He’ll open up to your younger relatives first tbh

They’ll ask him to play with them and he’ll begrudgingly go play if they’re persistent enough

Any family pets on the premises somehow find him and immediately start giving him affection and they will not leave Everyone took photos LMAO

Will be invited to have cerveza with the men and while he’s indiferent about the beer, he kinda likes how your dad and other male relatives are just casual and welcoming while they talk to him

Will find his favorite drink, it’s horchata

Now you would think little Tsunbaru would have a nonexistent spice tolerance, but he can handle it like a champ!

He genuinely likes the taste and it honestly doesn’t burn that bad to him so he’ll eat some really spicy dishes

He might be a little scared of your Tias when they try to spoil him so expect him to lash out at them a little

They’re gonna continue spoiling him anyway and even pinch his cheeks and tease him for the outburst they can sense the tsun in this one

he’s a little awkward on the dance floor at first but if you get him to relax he’s actually surprisingly good at dancing bachata and cumbia

He WANTS to learn Spanish so badly because you speak to your family predominately in Spanish but he does not pick it up quickly

He does learn a few words and phrases by the end of the night but his pronunciation is ROUGH

Like stereotypical “white guy trying to speak Spanish” levels of rough

By the end of the night your family has dubbed him “Blancanieves” because He weirdly does remind them of Snow white...In a weird Tsundere way(For the love of everyone’s enjoyment do not translate that to him, let him be confused, PLEASE)

overall it’s an emotional roller coaster for him but he had fun

your family will beg you to bring him again and he’ll “reluctantly” agree every time

“Fine I’ll go...But I’m only going again cuz’ you’re all so annoyingly insistent! Not like I really wanna go or anything...baka...”

#diabolik lovers #Shu Sakamaki #shu sakamaki x reader #Reiji Sakamaki #reiji sakamaki x reader #Ayato Sakamaki #ayato sakamaki x reader #Kanato Sakamaki #kanato sakamaki x reader #Laito Sakamaki #laito sakamaki x reader #Subaru Sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki x reader #carne asada #Hispanic reader #Hispanic s/o

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xximperioxx · 1 year

Note

Ooo could i request: reader doing makeup for the ghouls/ghoulettes (your choice) despite having NO makeup skills whatsoever? I thought it might be funny. Have a nice day! 🫶🏻

Practice Makes Perfect

Nameless Ghoulettes (+Swiss) x GN! Reader

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 600

Note: thank you for this cute and fun request! this was so much fun for me to write! I also know nothing about makeup lol. I hope you enjoy anon!

Sorry for the wait I had finals and then I got the flu so it’s been an eventful 2 weeks lol

Please enjoy and much love <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don't really know how you got in the situation of makeovers but you were having a sleepover with the ghoulettes. Cumulus was begging you to do her makeup.

“Oh, please (Y/N)!” She looked at you with her big beady eyes.

“Cumulus,” You looked away nervously, she knew you could never say no to her even though you have absolutely no makeup skills. Like at all. You sigh, “Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Sunshine beamed, “I’ll get our makeup box!”

Your eyes widen, “Box?”

Cirrus nods excitedly.

Sunshine came back with the box a little too quickly. The four of you are sitting in the living room area downstairs in the abbey, where the ghouls lived. The fireplace lit up most of the room as music played from some channel on the tv.

You were nervous. You never really did anyone’s make up before. You barely did your own. You look at makeup in the box, wondering what to use first. There were so many products in there. You didn’t even know what half of these things were.

Cumulus sits patiently watching you. Grabbing a brush and an eyeshadow pallet, you move close to her. You take a pink shade and gently apply it to her closed eyes. You could tell she was excited, the ghoulette was practically purring beneath your hand. It made you smile. You knew the ghoulettes never experienced sleepovers with anyone other than each other so it was an exciting time.

“What’s going on here?”

You were too focused on eyeliner to see who it was. It didn’t help that your hand was shaking trying not to poke the poor ghoulette in the eye.

“(Y/N) is doing Cumulus’s makeup and I’m painting Cirrus’s nails.” Sunshine paused to fix a nail and to answer Swiss.

The ghoul takes a seat on the couch watching you struggle. You study Cumulus’s face. You try not to wince at your eyeliner job. The wings were uneven and sloppy. It looks better from far away. If you’re mostly blind.

You choose a bright pink lipstick as you see the ghoulette’s eyes light up at the color. You begin to apply it to her lips but try not to laugh as you feel Swiss staring.

“Do you want me to do your makeup, Swiss?” You joked.

He rolls his eyes at you, “Pfft. No.”

You finish applying the lipstick and wipe a smudge you had accidentally made. Moving back, you stare at the work you did. You were really trying not to make a face. You supposed it could be a lot worse as it didn’t completely look like a five year old did it.

“I hope it’s okay. I don’t really know what I was doing,” you begin to ramble as you hand a mirror to Cumulus.

Anxiety fills you as you watch her stare at herself.

A big grin grows across the ghoulette’s face, “I love it!”

She tackles you into a hug repeating ‘thank you’ over and over.

Relief washes over you and a laugh erupts as you hug her back.

“I’m next!” Swiss slides off the couch and sits in front of you with a big smile on his face.

Sunshine whines, “I wanted to be next, Swiss.”

He sticks his tongue out in response.

You let out a laugh before grabbing the eyeshadow before getting close to him. You hear his tail tapping the floor in excitement.

Swiss can’t sit still for too long and you were fine with him occasionally moving. Except when he happened to pinch your waist when you were trying to do his eyeliner.

“Swiss, I swear to Satan next time it’s your eye.”

He chuckles at you which causes you to mess up the other eye. You sigh.

Maybe you could do makeup at each sleepover. Practice makes perfect. Right?

#ghost band #ghost #I heart my girls #sunshine ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #aether ghoul #ghost the band #sodo ghoul #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #papa emeritus iv #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #nameless ghoul #nameless ghoulettes #ghoulettes x reader

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nick-writes-stuff · 2 years

Text

Plenty of Time

Hanzo x gn!reader (established relationship) (post-recall)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, injury, hospitals, alluding to death, mental health struggles/grieving, it's a lot of angst but there is comfort at the end

// an: i've always been bad with titles so ignore that. this is really long btw. like i think around 4k words. just a warning so you know what you are getting into. also i love this trope so much. that's all, thank you for reading! //

It was just supposed to be simple job. Get in. Find the crate that Overwatch is looking to keep out of Talon's hands. Get out. Winston had expressed the importance of intercepting the shipment to you, Hanzo, Genji, and Mercy before sending you off.

The plan was simple. Angela and Hanzo would keep their distance. Winston found that there was rarely personnel on the catwalk, so the two of them would be the eyes in the sky. Hanzo could intervene if needed and Angela could swoop in to support you and genji on the ground. You two were the ones responsible for retrieving the crate and getting it outside, where the other two would meet you in the alley beside the warehouse where the getaway vehicle was waiting.

Hanzo hated the idea of being separated from you, especially on a more high risk operation like this. The place would be crawling with Talon soldiers, and he felt helpless knowing that he was that far away. It took some convincing from Genji and Winston, but eventually the plan was set in place.

Winston seemed to have analyzed every variable that could affect the mission. He vetted the source of the information, tracked the routes of the guards over the last three weeks, and placed the getaway vehicle ensuring it was discrete and ready to go when you needed it.

The only thing that Winston didn't account for was Reaper personally escorting the package to its destination.

Of course, he couldn't have known that. None of you could have. But you'll never forget the feeling in the pit of your stomach when you heard his signature shotguns echo through the warehouse. You thought it might of been his way of dealing with soldiers who didn't do their part, but you tried to push that thought out of your mind.

You all stopped in your tracks. None of you dared to say a word. Slowly, you looked over to Hanzo, who clearly seemed to tense up at the sound. You gave him a soft, albeit nervous, smile trying to comfort him.

The two of you often communicated with glances. It became helpful in situations like this, but it's a result of the two of you being able to read each other well. He could tell how your day went simply by the look of your eyes. You knew when he was getting overwhelmed by Hana and Lucio's antics in the cafeteria. Genji claims you have a sixth sense when it comes to understanding Hanzo, but it's really just a testament to how well you know and trust each other.

Hanzo didn't reciprocate your smile. He swallowed tensely before muttering, "We need to move."

It wasn't long until Winston chimed in on the comms: "The entrance to catwalks should be on your right."

Low and behold, there was a towering set of scaffolding holding up a set of metal stairs.

You gave your boyfriend a small smile. "See you soon."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and following Mercy up the stairs.

You followed Genji behind palletes of crates, using them as cover. Winston chimed in, giving updates on where the guards patrolling were in relation to your position.

"Do you think you could distract them while I get the crate out of here?" Genji said, his voice hardly above a whisper.

You hated the idea. It wasn't that you doubted your skills, as you were obviously well trained enough to be on the Overwatch strike team. The problem was that Reaper, the head of Talon, was the one you were distracting. Also, Genji was certainly stronger than you, even without the cybernetic enhancements. If there was anyone to take the crate out of the warehouse quickly, it was certainly him.

"That works." You lied through your teeth. You tried not to feel anxious; it would only weigh you down. You took a deep breath before addressing Winston: "Does that work for you?"

"That sounds optimal. I would suggest initiating soon. There is a guard passing your location on the left in approximately 15 seconds. If you engage with them, there's a clear path for Genji to slip through to your right."

You sighed softly. "No time like the present"

As you split ways with Genji, you heard a soft "Stay safe" through your earpiece. Hanzo was obviously trying to say it discretely so he didn't get pestered by his younger brother. You chuckled softly, murmuring back "you too."

Once you saw the signature red helmet of the Talon soldier, you immediately jumped into action. You swept his legs out from underneath him, causing the soldier to fall with a thud.

Moving towards the open area, you paused for a moment. You scanned the area, looking for any sign of Reaper. You didn't see him, but that didn't mean much.

You stepped out from cover, raising your rifle. You caught the glint of Genji's armor on the right. You aimed at the group of the soldiers across from the crate, hoping to draw them away. Bullets sprayed throughout the room, as you weren't exactly shooting with intent to harm, more so to distract.

The soldiers reacted fairly quickly, turning toward you and grabbing their guns. As bullets began to fly toward you, you dove for cover behind a forklift. You didn't intend to use it for long, just enough time to find your next spot. You scanned the room while firing more rounds. As the soldiers moved towards you, you backtracked to your previous position.

You fired more rounds at the soldiers you were currently engaged with. One of them clutched their side, presumably from getting hit. Before you could react to that, you started hearing shots from behind you.

You rolled away from the aisle behind you, landing behind a pallete of crates set for shipment. They looked like they were to be sent alongside the package you were intercepting.

Shit. The package. You should probably check on that. "Genji, what's your status?" You said as softly as possible, hoping your intense whisper could be heard on the comms.

"I got the crate, but there's two guys by the door."

You turned to try to get a view on Genji's position before immediately ducking again. The soldiers were closing in. "Do you think one of you could help him out?" You asked before aiming your rifle again. You fired some more shots, this time more of them making contact with your adversaries.

"I got it." Mercy said. It made sense: she could glide down there and Hanzo can watch you. You scan the room quickly before moving toward the garage doors on the opposite side of the building where Mercy and Genji were. You were about to cover for your allies before your comm blared in your ear: "Y/N-"

That's all you needed. You turned around, swinging your gun around to knock a black shotgun out of the way. Reaper.

All you heard was your heart beating out of your chest. You made an attempt to push him back with the gun, trying to get as much distance between the two of you. In response, he aimed his other shotgun. You instinctively dodged, dropping down and attempting to roll away. This is what Reaper wanted, however, as in the process he knocked you off balance.

Breaking the silence, Angela chimed in through your earpiece. "Bad news, there's a lot more guys out here than we expected. Do you think you cou-"

You didn't have time to talk. You were trying to regain your footing while avoiding getting shot. You were obviously a bit occupied. Hanzo, however, was not having it. "They're a little busy Angela!" He snapped.

Even if you did have time to respond, Reaper decided that you weren't going to. When you stood up, his hand connected with your throat, shoving you against the garage door behind you. The metal sheet dented around you slightly, and the impact knocked the wind out of your lungs.

Hanzo didn't waste time, grabbing an arrow from his quiver and drawing the bow. He tried to calm the shaking of his hands as he lined up the shot on Reaper. He was an easy shot at the moment, seeing as he was focused on you.

"This is what happens to people who get in my way." Reaper said, his voice eerily calm. It was almost worse that way, as you didn't think it would be nearly as terrifying if he showed actual emotion. His arm moved, presumably to pull another shotgun seemingly out of thin air.

Hanzo saw this too. There wasn't much time; Reaper had you pinned by your throat, he needed to do something. He took a deep breath before releasing his hold on the string.

That should have been the end of it. But Sombra, who had been watching the agents' moves from the security cameras, had different plans.

"Watch out jefe, the archer is on the catwalk getting ready to intervene"

You were lucky Reaper's mask hid the sick grin that was plastered on his face. It probably would have haunted your nightmares, though his mask wasn't much better. He let out a low chuckle before dematerializing.

Air filled your lungs as his grip faded, but that moment of triumph was quickly interrupted by an arrow through your stomach.

Two thoughts ran through your mind. First: oh my god. Second: Hanzo.

You instinctively squeezed your eyes shut. Observing the situation, one would assume that was your reaction to pain, but there was definitely more than that. Hanzo didn't need to see you after that. When he opened up to you about his falling out with Genji, he always mentioned how his brother's eyes haunted him for the longest time.

You weren't going to do that to him. He didn't deserve it.

Your brain was scrambling to make sense of the situation, working through pain and anxiety. One moment, the shadowy man was right in front of you, and the next think you remember, you're with Mercy. She's rushing you away from the area, and from the sounds of it, Genji was taking care of Reaper.

Stumbling alongside the medic, your hand lightly presses on the wound. You weren't convinced this was really happening until you saw the blood stained on your hand.

Everything around you was a blur, either from blood loss or anxiety. You saw the blinding headlights of the getaway vehicle.

The rest of the night happened in a blur. You didn't really remember any of it. You remember Angela starting to tend to your wound, and at some point, Genji entered the vehicle. Soon after, the vehicle started moving.

"Where's Hanzo?" You heard yourself say, even though you didn't remember saying it.

Genji's answer faded out, not really hearing any of it. You thought you were dying, that was your instant thought. However, you saw Angela with an empty syringe. Before you could realize that she had given you a sedative, your vision failed you and you slipped into unconsciousness.

As your eyes began to flutter open, you questioned why they made hospital lighting so harsh. You let your vision adjust to the bright fluorescent lights, looking around the room. To your surprise, it was empty.

You tried to shift to sit up, forgetting that you had just gotten shot. You winced, groaning in pain and annoyance before giving up and laying back. You fished around for the remote on the bed, pressing the button to call the nurse.

The next few days went by in a blur. Your sleep schedule was wrecked from the pain meds, so you hardly knew what time it was. Hell, you weren't even sure how long it had been after the mission.

Angela visited you regularly. She would change your bandages as gently as she could, and you would pretend she wasn't hurting you. You were still hooked up to an IV, receiving pain meds, antibiotics, and fluids.

Genji visited twice, you think. At least two times that you remember. He didn't stay for too long, he mostly came by to see if he could get you anything from your room. You usually said no, since you weren't doing much else than sleeping. However, sometimes when you woke up, you'd see a book on the nightstand.

Genji didn't realize that you couldn't actually reach the nightstand without hurting yourself, but it was the though that counted.

You faintly remembered Hana and Lena stopping in, and Reinhardt might have stopped in. Or it was a dream. You couldn't tell.

Notably, though, Hanzo hadn't stopped in. That terrified you. You tried to ask Angela about him, but she brushed you off. That made it worse.

He was probably beating himself up about it, and God knows if he had been taking care of himself. You would hope Genji would be checking up on him, but your boyfriend was stubborn. Knowing that he was probably freaking out hurt worse than the wound.

Once you were starting to feel a bit better, you tried convincing Angela to let you go up to his room.

"No, y/n. I don't know how well walking for that long would go, I know you've been having trouble walking around the ward with the physical therapist-"

You sighed, trying not too seemed too annoyed. Sure, this was not the outcome you wanted, but the doctor in front of you was probably the only reason you were alive.

"Angela please, you can have someone take me up in a wheelchair or something. I can get up at his door and go in and sit or something. Please? I just need to make sure he's okay."

She looked you over intently. She still wasn't convinced by your proposal, but she knew you well enough. If she didn't accept the deal, you'd probably go without her knowledge. She would come in for your next vitals check and see an empty bed and your IV pulled out.

She sighed before admitting defeat. "Fine. But you have to come back down here within an hour. I need to administer your last dose of antibiotics, and I want to check the wound to make sure you didn't pop a stitch or something." She said as she disconnected you from the IV pole.

You thanked her as she hurried out of the room. You made a mental note to get her a gift for putting up with you. As you maneuvered to sit up, a nurse came in with a wheelchair. You hadn't actually intended using the wheelchair (as you more or less just mentioned it to convince Angela). But with how painful it was to sit up, you figured you'd take the help. After all, you did need to actually make it up to his room.

The journey to Hanzo's room was mostly silent. You didn't exactly know what to say, seeing as the situation didn't really fit small talk. Plus, you hadn't been doing much of anything since your injury, so you really didn't have much to talk about regardless.

The awkward silence continued the whole way to his room, until you broke it. "I'm gonna get up and walk to the room, if you don't mind." You were only a few feet away from his room, and if you couldn't make it there you might as well be able to get back to medway easier. The nurse obliged, putting on the brakes of the chair.

You shakily stood up, and it went a lot better than you thought it would. Walking definitely caused some pain, but you were also shot with a literal arrow; that was expected. You made it to the door, knocking on it lightly.

Nothing.

You should have guessed that.

You knocked a little louder. You had a gut feeling he was in there; either that or the universe really wanted to waste your time.

Still nothing.

You knocked one more time before you heard his voice.

"Genji, what the hell do you w-" He snapped as he opened the door, quickly stopping once he noticed your form in the doorway.

The sight of him, however, could have broken you. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messily tied back. He clearly looked like he hadn't slept since the mission, which you knew could have been mostly true. He also, most notably, looked as if he was trying to pretend he hadn't been crying. His eyes were glassy and his eyes slightly red. You'd never actually seen him cry before, as Hanzo has a bad habit of bottling everything up. So seeing him in this state was nearly heartbreaking.

"Shouldn't you still be on bedrest?" He asked. His question almost seemed cold, but you had an idea what he meant. It seemed like he had been trying to postpone talking to you for as long as he could. Hence why he didn't visit your room.

"It's a nurse sanctioned event, I promise." You said with a light chuckle. You gesture down the hallway to the nurse waiting for you. You watched Hanzo's unenthused gaze switch over to her as she gave a small wave. "Can I come in?"

He looked back to you, trying to gauge the situation. Realizing he didn't exactly have a way out, he stepped back to allow you in.

You closed the door behind you, following him into the dorm. Considering the circumstances, his room was more tidy than you would expect it to be, but it certainly wasn't up to Hanzo's usual standards.

You pulled the chair from the rarely used desk, sitting down while pretending it didn't hurt. You didn't seem like you convinced him.

He sat on one of the cushions adorning the floor. Normally, you would of sat on one of those as well, but in this situation, you didn't think you would be able to stand up again.

The silence hung over the room.

Surprisingly, Hanzo was the first to speak.

"I'm sor-"

You cut him off before he got to finish. "You don't need to apologize"

"Yes I do."

"No, you really don't."

"I almost killed you."

"We both know it was an accident."

"You could have died because of me. Because I screwed up."

"Hanzo-"

"Trust me, y/n. I've been going over the situation for the past week or so." He cut you off. "I even got the surveillance feed, and I've been pouring over the footage. I could have shot first instead of warning you, or I could have helped Mercy and Genji so Mercy could go back to you or-"

He continued on like this, rattling off different scenarios. He got more and more upset about it as he went on.

"Hanzo." You said louder, reaching to put an arm on his shoulder. This got him to stop. He slowly pulled himself away from the train of thought, gaze centering on you with a breath.

"I understand you're upset, and but don't be upset at yourself because you think I'm upset at you. Because I'm not. You couldn't have known what was going to happen. Sure, you're an extremely skilled archer and an amazing warrior. But you can't see the future."

You paused for a moment, looking over him. His eyes were trained on the floor, tears threatening to spill from them.

Before you could continue, he spoke. "Why wouldn't you look at me after it happened?"

"What do you mean?" You asked softly. The night was a bit of a blur for obvious reasons, so you didn't exactly know what meant.

He looked up at you, being serious about it. "You wouldn't even look at me. Like you were..." He paused, thinking of the right word. "Ashamed." His gaze fell once he found the word.

It slowly clicked for you. The memory got a little less hazy. "I know that's what it seemed like, but I promise it wasn't." You started. You took a shaky breath, trying to not be overcome by your own emotions.

"I remember when you talked about what happened with Genji," you said, skirting around explaining that any further. "That you couldn't get his eyes out of your head." You trailed off.

You had the feeling that he knew what you were going to say.

"I didn't want to do that to you." You said, voice dropping just above a whisper.

You two made eye contact, and when you did, you both gave a light laugh, seeing the other in their emotional state.

"I think this conversation went well." He said. You chuckled softly, wiping a stray tear from your face.

"Oh, absolutely." You quipped back. Earning a laughed from him.

You looked at your watch, wondering how serious Angela was about the hour time limit she allotted for you.

Yeah she would probably kill you.

"As much as I would love nothing more than to sit here and say the most sappy, romantic things I can think of, I need to get back to my room."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "I thought this was a nurse sanctioned event?"

"Wow." You said, becoming mockingly offended. "Did you really think I would lie to you?"

Hanzo smirked. "I think you would casually bend the truth."

"Yeah you're probably right." You conceded. "But I promise it was. Dr. Zeigler was very strict about having an hour time limit, and I don't think now is a good time to make her mad."

He laughed lightly. It was a wonderful sight.

You offered him your hand, getting a stupid grin when he clasped his fingers around yours. You led him out of the room. The nurse was no longer there, and you assumed she was paged for something more important for waiting for the lovebirds to leave the room.

As you walked down to the infirmary, you made casual small talk. Hanzo talked about how annoying his younger brother had been (even if he knew Genji had his best intentions in mind), and you complained about the hospital food you'd been having.

Sure, there was a lot more you two needed to talk about.

But thanks to Dr. Zeigler... you both had plenty of time for that.

#overwatch fanfiction #overwatch imagines #overwatch x reader #hanzo x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #overwatch reader insert #nick writes stuff

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starlightglimglam27666 · 1 month

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Tickled for Courage

Summary: CraftyCorn helps KickinChicken overcome his fears and gets his courage back.

One day at Playcare, CraftyCorn was minding her own business, when she sensed a disturbance with one of her friends. That's when she knew something was wrong. She put down her paintbrush and pallet and ran to where she sensed the source of the disturbance. What she saw was unexpected.

KickinChicken was sitting on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest, while struggling hold back fear. He looked terrified, and he had a blanket around his shoulders. The sight made CraftyCorn worry about him.

"Um... KickinChicken, are you okay?" she asked, coming over and sitting next to him.

"Huh, wha- " KickinChicken was taken by surprise, but then he realized it was only CraftyCorn. "Oh, it's you, hey."

"Why do you look so scared?" CraftyCorn asked. The unicorn wanted to help because she was worried about him.

"I had a n-nightmare last night," KickinChicken said, his voice trembling. "I watched P-Poppy and P-Player d-d-die, and I couldn't do anything to save them!"

"Oh, you poor thing," CraftyCorn said, hugging him. "Don't worry, it was only a dream. Nothing like that will happen."

"I can still be afraid of it!" KickinChicken said, trembling with fear. This made CraftyCorn worry more. She wanted to help, if she knew how.

Think, Crafty! There's got to be a creative solution. CraftyCorn thought to herself. Then an idea popped into her head. Idea!

Without warning, she jumped on KickinChicken and held his arms above his head and his ankles together with her magic.

"What are you doing?" KickinChicken said, now immobile. He was confused about why CraftyCorn would hold him down like this.

"I'm gonna cheer you up and give you courage!" CraftyCorn said, getting a paintbrush and drifting it down his side. This made him giggle.

"CraftyCorn, that tickles!" KickinChicken said through his giggling. CraftyCorn decided to take this up a notch.

"That's the point," CraftyCorn said, going for his tummy. "It's supposed to tickle."

"CRAHAHAHAFTYCORN! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! I'M TOHOHOHO TICKLISH!" KickinChicken said through his laughter as the paintbrush tickled his worst spot.

"Coochie coochie coo!" CraftyCorn teased, using her magic to glide the paintbrush across his tummy.

"PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! MAHAHAHAKE IT STAHAHAHAHAP!" KickinChicken pleaded through his laughter. He couldn't handle being tickled on his tummy.

"Awww, you're so ticklish," said CraftyCorn, getting two more paintbrushes and using them on his sides. Being the one with magic, she's able to use three paintbrushes at once.

"CRAHAHAHAFTYCORN! I'M TOHOHOHO TICKLISH! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!" KickinChicken found it very difficult to get any words out without being dissolved by laughter.

Crafty withdrew her paintbrushes and started blowing raspberries, making KickinChicken overwhelmed with hysterical laughter, even CraftyCorn had never heard him laugh so hard.

After twenty minutes of nonstop tickling, feeling like hours for KickinChicken, CraftyCorn stopped tickling him and let him go. He hugged his midsection and started catching his breath.

"Feeling better?" CraftyCorn asked, rubbing his back

"Yeah," replied KickinChicken. "I didn't that I was ever going to laugh again."

"Glad I could help," said CraftyCorn, hugging him.

KickinChicken now knew that if he feels scared, he can always tell his friends.

#poppy playtime tickles #smiling critters tickles #lee!kickinchicken #ler!craftycorn

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 years

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(Lambert/Voltehre; Witchers have fluffy ears; wolfboys and catboys galore; crack treated seriously; fluff with a dash of witcher-typical trauma, you know how it is. Based on and dedicated to @biggaygreenbird's ear art)

Following the mutations, Lambert hated his ears the most. It wasn't his eyes and their light sensitivity, or how he could hear a gnat's fart from five hundred yards, or the way his skin felt so vulnerable in those first few days that he wanted to tear his clothes off and float in the bathing pools forever. It was how he couldn't hide what he felt anymore. Anger had always been his protective shell, but now every little emotion was on full display.

"Aww, he loves pie, look at him," Eskel joked as Lambert's ears rotated and flicked in anticipation at the smell of food. He had stomped off without dinner that night. And, "feeling grumpy, little wolf?" from Geralt when his ears jutted out to the side, and "there's no need to be frightened, lad" from Remus when they faced off some foglets on the lakeside, and his ears flattened back to his head.

Fuck his ears. He wanted to cut them off with a fucking hunting knife, and--

"Shit day?"

The bed at Lambert's side dipped, and Lambert grunted into his knees. His fucking ears perked forward, because of course they did. Voltehre was his... well, his favourite person in the whole of existence, as shitty as it was. He made life in Murder Castle somewhat bearable. His ears didn't express nearly as much. They swivelled and turned now and then, and sometimes they did this thing where one dropped and the other perked, and that was kinda... neat.

"That shit, huh?" Voltehre said ruefully.

Lambert's ears folded down and he growled in frustration, tucking his face lower into his forearms. He was about to tell Voltehre to fuck off when he felt it. A featherlight touch along one ear. It sent a shiver down his spine that ended pleasantly in his tailbone, and he recoiled with a hiss.

"Lambert, I'm sorry," Voltehre said quickly, his hands up, ready to take the beating he was certain he deserved. "They're just so... so soft, and... and I..."

Lambert frowned. Voltehre had always been kinda dorky looking. His sandy blonde hair looked like someone had disassembled a mop and dumped it on his head, and his face was a mess of freckles with two big eyes stuck a little wide. If he'd still been human, he would've been snapped up by some busty milkmaid in a few years and started churning out a bunch of dorky looking replicas. Instead, he sat opposite Lambert, with two blonde-gold ears poking through his hair, one drooping, and Lambert's chest felt a bit... weird.

Lambert reached out slowly and ran his fingertips down that folded ear to the very tip. It was soft. Softer than the rabbit fur lining their boots, even. Voltehre tried to hide his shiver, but Lambert noticed. His ears perked forward. "You like that?"

"Yeah, course I do. You not... not stroked them a bit, y'know? While no one's lookin'." Voltehre circled finger and thumb in the air before him and Lambert huffed. He'd been too busy ignoring their existence to actually touch them. What did Voltehre take him for?

"No, I've not had an ear wank," Lambert said, petulant. Voltehre pulled a face at him and then flung his body forward. They wrestled on the bed, kicking the blankets and the pillows onto the floor until the pallet was bare. Voltehre managed to get Lambert into a headlock, forearm pressed beneath his jaw and then, with a quivering gentleness, began to massage one perked ear.

The tension melted from Lambert's body in begrudging increments. His eyes flickered, struggling to stay open through the waves of sensation unfurling from his ears to his scalp, through his shoulders, down his back. Shit, he could feel it to the very tips of his toes.

"Nice?" Voltehre asked softly. Lambert didn't miss the uncertain waver in his tone, like he'd been agonising over doing this for ages and was now worried he'd fucked up.

"S'alright," Lambert slurred, because maintaining enough sentience to recognise Voltehre's anxiety was challenge enough without having to evaluate his own fucking feelings on the matter.

"Want me to stop?"

"Stop and get bit."

Voltehre grinned. "Okay, okay."

After a while, they gave up the pretence of Voltehre forcing Lambert to stay still. His grip loosened and Lambert rested his head in Voltehre's lap, ears twitching, eyes closed. When he woke up early the next morning, he was tucked beneath a blanket with Voltehre's smaller body curled against his own. And it felt... nice.

If he happened to reach down and stroke Voltehre's big, golden ears until they twitched happily in his fingers, then that was nobody's fucking business, was it? And if the next day, and the next, he shoved his head into Voltehre's hands and growled for attention, then... he was just... that was just a thing they did now, right? Right.

#witcher lambert #witcher voltehre #tw3 #the witcher games #the witcher #fic dedication #art rec #thank you GreenBird sorry GreenBird

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steddiecameraroll · 10 months

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I'm Thinking of the Way it Was - ch 2

Excerpt from chapter 2 of my getting back together fic

Eddie’s still shaking hours later.

Steve had left Eddie pressed against the building when he retreated back indoors. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to follow behind.

He sits silently on the floor of his room, his back pressed against the side of his mattress, curled up with his face in his knees.

Realizing that he did that to Steve feels like a pallet of bricks crushing his ribs.

The guilt of taking something so perfectly crafted, beautifully existent, and destroying it. Eddie’s skin itches like it’s covered in mosquitos sucking the life from his bones.

How will he fix this?

This is his fault, entirely, unequivocally, his fault.

He loves Steve. He knows that now. You will never be the same when you see the person that breathes life into your lungs completely shut down and break into a million pieces at your feet.

There’s a quiet knock on Eddie’s door. He doesn’t respond; he knows it’s Gareth.

“Eddie?” Gareth asks before pushing the door open. “Dude, you in here?”

Eddie lifts his chin, and Gareth sees the top of his head appear beside the bed.

“You ok?” He steps carefully into Eddie’s room. “What happened, man? I saw Steve pull you outside, and when he came back in, he looked…fuck, man, he looked bad. What happened?”

Gareth sits cautiously at the foot of Eddie’s bed, giving the man space.

“I love him,” Eddie exhales quietly.

Tears are coming quickly again as if admitting it out loud unlocked another dam inside him.

Gareth nods. “I figured.”

“I didn’t know.” Eddie’s voice is shaking.

“You didn’t?” Gareth chortles.

“No-I just…” Eddie sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I did.” He stares at the carpet while picking the skin on the side of his thumb. “I thought... I don’t know. We were together months ago, and I fucked up. I broke up with him.”

“What? You’ve had a thing for Harrington forever, and when you finally get him, you break up with him?”

“I didn’t say it was smart. He was perfect. I didn’t want to ruin him.”

“Well, hate to tell you, man, but I think you did it anyway.”

“Heh,” Eddie drops his head backward, letting it hit the mattress. “Yeah, guess I did.”

“So what happened tonight?”

“He kissed me. It was…fuck, I miss him. He makes me feel alive like I could conquer the world, lift cars, and run a marathon. And you know I hate running. But Steve…” Eddie sniffs, trying to control his voice. “I thought I could do this. I thought he was better off. He got mad at me. I told him I missed him and I was sorry and he screamed at me. Just screamed. I’ve never seen anything like that. He just- then he crumbled and cried on the ground, and I just stood there. I stood there as he fucking cried. I didn’t do anything. I stood there like a fucking coward. He needed me, and I didn’t do anything.” His breathing hitches as his tears flow freely now.

“Shit,” Gareth huffs.

“Yeah, shit. Now I know why Robin was so pissed at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“She came to the shop weeks ago and chewed me out. Told me I broke Steve’s heart and to get my shit together. I didn’t believe her.” Eddie pauses a moment. “Well, I wanted to believe her. The idea that Steve Harrington had been in love with me. I mean, fucking wet dream, right? And I fucked it all up.”

Eddie closes his eyes and sighs. His entire body is exhausted.

“Do you want to fix it?”

“Yeah, more than anything.”

“So fix it. Dude, I know you think he probably hates you, but he obviously doesn’t if you were making out. Sounds like he’s also struggling. Probably a wild suggestion, but maybe the two of you should talk.”

“Yeah,” he knows that’s logical, knows they really should, but he won’t. “Did he leave with his date? Did you see?”

“I didn’t see, sorry.”

“Fuck,” Eddie exclaims. “I had him. I fucking had him. What is wrong with me?”

“That’s a loaded question.”

“Shut up, man,” Eddie chuckles. “Why do I always do this? It’s like- I’ve got something fucking good going, and I can’t help myself and just blow it up. What the hell? Like, I want to make my life harder or something. I had him. I coulda been happy. I was happy. What have I done? I’m fucking living in your house, no offense, man.”

“Naw, none taken.”

“I turned my back on them all.” Eddie presses his lips together as his tears worsen, trying to hold back the sobs. “They were there for me…and I left them. God, I’m a fucking loser.”

He lowers his face into his hands and shakes through the streams of tears. It hurt when he walked out of Steve’s house that day. It hurt when he told Wayne he was moving out. It hurt when he blocked Dustin everywhere. But none of those moments compare to what he’s feeling right now.

Gnawing, pulsing, aching, all-consuming pain.

Guilt is seeping through his veins like a snake bite. It’s infecting every inch of him, and it hurts so much.

He wonders if someone can die from a broken heart. If not, maybe he’ll be the first.

continue reading on ao3

Excerpts: ch 1 ch 2 ch 3 ch 4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7

#eddie munson crying breaks my heart #there is a happy ending #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiecameraroll posts #my writing

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