#it took me quite a while to write this

[fictionadventurer]

There's something about reading really great writing that's so relaxing. You can just sit back and let the words wash over you, knowing that you can trust the writer.

[slashersteve]

Next Best Thing to An Angel

requested by anonymous

pairing: Steve Harrington/Henderson!Female Reader

summary: Reader has been cursed by Vecna, and the group has to work fast in order to find a way to rid her of it. There's too many close calls, and just when they thought they had it figured out...it just might be too late.

warnings/extra tags: cursing, mentions of blood, violence due to fucked up visions brought to you by Vecna, near death experiences, >>>ST4 V1 SPOILERS<<<, this is beta read by the bestie @dearneverlander so it should be ~crisp~

note: There's references to the 1984 movie Streets of Fire aka one of my fave 80s Rock and Roll Fables. You don't need to know the exact plot, but just know it's an important movie and soundtrack to the reader <3 This took me a bit to write because I wanted it to be hella good. Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

✧ ✧ ✧

It started just a day after your cheer teammate and one of your closest friends, Chrissy Cunningham, told you she was having problems. You were perhaps one of the only people who was aware of what she was going through, not even her boyfriend knew about her horrible headaches or the growing nightmares.

When she told you, she seemed so scared. It was so unlike her that it scared you to see her act in such a way, so much that you thought you scared yourself into experiencing the same things or that maybe she caught an illness and gave it to you.

The first thing that happened was a nosebleed. You were at the Hawkins Family Video Store, waiting for your boyfriend Steve to finish renting out a video to a customer so you can help him pick out a movie to put on.

You were reading the back of a tape that Robin had handed you prior, since she was trying to broaden yours and Steve's movie horizons because according to her you both were ‘hopeless’ when it came to your movie knowledge.

"I don't know about this one Robin," You called to her.

"What? God, you're so lame, you and Steve are probably just going to put on Streets of Fire again,” she replied from somewhere behind you.

You chuckled to yourself, "Not exactly a bad idea."

"Did you say Streets of Fire?" Steve questioned after the customer had left, leaving just you three and a handful of patrons who were still trying to find movies to watch, "I love that movie. It's pretty damn romantic."

You laughed and agreed while Robin scoffed and pushed the video cart aside.

"Excuse me? Did you say romantic? He punches her in the face," Robin reminded you both. You cringed.

"Okay, not that part, but even then it's taken out of context- just- whatever, it's a good movie," you tried to defend it, "Plus, the soundtrack is pretty killer."

"I’m still not over you both thinking it’s romantic. Context considered and all, but they don't even end up together in the end," Robin replied, you sighed.

"It's about the closure, Robin, he just left her without a word, and after he saves her from Raven, they finally get it, it is romantic in it's own way," you set the other tape down, ready to put it on the video store's TV out of spite.

"Right. Well, at least Diane Lane is hot in it...and yeah, I'll give you the soundtrack, it is pretty good."

Steve laughed to himself, enjoying how much you loved and defended the movie because he knew why you liked it so much. It was the movie you and him watched on your very first date two years ago at a drive-in. Since then, it has been your favorite movie of all time.

"I think you secretly like the movie, Robin, and since it's my turn to pick a movie," Steve had grabbed it from where it sat conveniently under the counter and handed it to you, "Go ahead and put it on." You hopped off of the counter with a satisfied grin while Robin sighed dramatically and crossed her arms.

You removed the tape from its case, and leaned up, ready to insert it into the player when your mind suddenly became foggy. It felt odd, like an invisible force had violently washed over you and caused a pulsing pain in your head that almost mirrored a migraine.

The tape slipped from your grasp, crashing onto the ground as you brought your hand to your forehead. The clatter of the tape hitting the ground was what had brought you back to reality after a few seconds, and Steve was beside you.

"Woah, are you okay-” he stopped when his brown eyes fell to the bottom part of your face. You blinked, still a little disoriented from the random headache.

“Oh shit, Henderson, your nose,” Robin said what Steve didn’t, her eyes on the same place Steve’s were. You lifted your hand to below your nose, instantly feeling something wet and sticky. 

When you looked at your fingers, you saw it was blood.

It didn't scare you more than it had confused you. You hadn't gotten one in so long, and the last time your nose did bleed was when a sophomore girl trying out for the cheer team kicked you in the nose by accident.

After this incident, the days following felt almost like hell. You'd wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares, all of them about either losing Steve or your little brother Dustin, and you were taking Tylenol more frequently for these massive headaches that never seemed to go away.

You could only think of Chrissy, and what she had told you, and wonder if she passed you some kind of illness. You tried talking to her again during practice or in the halls, but she seemed keen on continuing to pretend that she was alright, and maybe she was because she still cheered and ruled the school with a smile on her face.

You thought if she could do it, then so could you. Unlike her though, you had a boyfriend who could see right through the facade and had a brother who could relay to him how weird you've been acting when Steve asked. He had told Steve the nights you’ve canceled on dates or meet-ups with him and Robin in the past few days you were actually locked away in your room. It was very uncharacteristic of you, considering you were out almost every other day, either with your friends or with Steve.

When Steve insisted you let him drop you off at Hawkins High and asked you what had been going on when Robin left first, you didn’t really understand why your first instinct was to withhold the truth.

"I just haven't been feeling well," you told him, while pretending you were fixing your lipstick, "I think I...caught something.”

"Something how?" Steve asked, concern etched all over his features, “It must be bad because you look like you haven’t been sleeping either.”

You pressed your lips together because you were positive you packed on enough make-up to hide those dark circles that had started form. 

You didn't want to tell him about your nightmares, not wanting to worry him for what you thought were just dreams. It made you feel bad because you've never shied away from telling Steve anything, but you were scared if you said anything whatever it was would get him too. Your dreams were too...vivid and real.

It was always about the day you both were interrogated by the Russian Guards, and every time you didn't answer they hurt him and not you. They made you believe they had killed him, that you were the reason he was dead. And there was that…room.

"Just headaches, mostly," you said quietly, shutting the mirror and resting your hands above your Hawkins cheer skirt.

Steve had looked suspicious, and he said, “Should you do the pep rally then? Or the game tonight? I know it’s the championship but…” You had forced a sweet smile his way and leaned toward him.

"I'll be okay, I promise," you tried to assure him with a peck on his cheek, leaving the pink residue of your lipstick there, “I love it when you care so much.” You were gone and out of the car before Steve could say anything more.

Steve had noticed since that day you were different, it almost felt like you were pulling away from him emotionally in a way. For almost two years you've been in this relationship, and when you've gotten sick in the past, you never had done this.

Something else was wrong, but neither of you would find out until after Chrissy Cunningham's death.

✧ ✧ ✧

"The curse of Vecna," Dustin Henderson and Eddie Munson had both said at the same time.

"The curse of who?" Steve asked. You had scrunched your face up with confusion.

"Are you two talking about that wizard from Dungeons and Dragons?" you asked, knowing this information because Dustin always bothered you by explaining all of the campaigns he did to you during dinner mostly.

"Not just a wizard, a dark wizard," Dustin told you, "He uses a magic spell on the players called Vecna's curse."

"Do you really think that's what it is?" Max had asked from beside Robin, "I mean…”

"Only one way to find out. What else have you experienced?" Dustin's question was toward you now, and you uncomfortably crossed your arms over your chest, not sure what to say.

Eddie blinked a few times as he looked between Dustin and you before he asked, "Wait, why are you asking her?"

Steve's hand rested on the small of your back, and you exhaled shakenly, "Because about a week ago, Chrissy confided in me about these...nightmares and headaches she'd been getting. And about a day after that...I started to get the same kind of symptoms and now Chrissy is dead and I-" you closed your lips and shook your head.

Eddie stared at you, "Oh shit."

Steve rubbed your back affectionately, "Okay, so now that we think we know what it is, how it works...is there any way to stop it?"

"Okay, okay, first up, didn't you say something about a nosebleed?" Dustin's question was directed at you again. You looked at your little brother and nodded.

"Yeah, about 6 days ago at the video store...Steve and Robin were there."

Nobody noticed how Max shifted uncomfortably in her spot upon hearing your words.

Robin nodded, "Yeah I remember that...god this is insane. I mean, last time it was insane too, but this is just...yikes."

As they continued to discuss possible ways to stop this curse they believe you had, you started to feel very uneasy. Chills had crawled their way up your back, making you tense up and bite your lip to stop it from quivering.

Eddie had said what happened to Chrissy, how she was in this sort of trance before her body was lifted into the air and...how her bones cracked and how her eyes...how her fucking eyes were sucked back into her skull.

You thought about how it was after Chrissy told you about her problems, you instantly got them too. And you looked at everyone around you, your little brother, Robin, Max, even Eddie, and especially Steve. You didn't know how this thing spread, if this Vecna character had chosen you simply because you interacted with Chrissy, like she passed some curse onto you.

And if any of them were next it would be because you were an idiot and told them too.

The thought made you physically ill and you were leaving before anyone could stop you, ignoring Steve calling after you. You left the boat house with a hand over your mouth to try and keep the rising bile in your throat down.

When you were finally near the trees, you doubled over and threw up all over the grass. You fell to your hands and knees after you emptied out your already empty stomach, panting and spitting onto the floor to get the horrid taste of the stomach bile and acid out of your mouth.

Running out into the darkness was not a smart idea, you knew that, especially now you learned you were probably cursed, but you just needed to run. You needed to get out, you needed to just get away from them.

Then, you heard Steve calling your name. You were shaking and shouted, "I’m okay- just leave me alone right now- please-"

Your name was called again, but this time...it wasn't Steve. In fact, it wasn't any of them inside that boat house.

This voice caused a violent wave of fear to crash through you, making your body go still. Whatever had called your name was right behind you. You turned your head slowly, and saw that your surroundings were different now. 

Different, but very familiar too. Blood stained the floor tiled floor and walls, torture weapons scattered among them. The stench of blood was strong, just as it was the day you remember being locked in there when you were captured in the Russian Facility. 

It was the room they said they had killed Steve in.

Your hands moved to cover your nose and mouth, panic rising in you that you were somehow here again reliving the worst day of your life. 

The loud chime of what sounded like a large clock echoed from behind you, causing you to yelp out a short scream and twist your body around to see the source of the sound.

Engraved in the wall, your eyes fell upon an ominous grandfather clock. It chimed, echoing in your ears and mind, and it ticked almost like a threat.

And it certainly was.Your name was called again, but this time it felt like it was all around you. 

“The time to end your suffering is coming soon,” the voice told you, “Join me and I will spare your friends. If you refuse, I will take them all.”

The clock chimed again and ticked, louder than the thumping of your chest and louder than the voice itself. The lights of the torture room you were in flickered, and you caught a glimpse of…something or somebody. 

It was enough to make you scream.

You were gasping suddenly. And then, you heard Steve’s voice shouting your name.

Steve’s hands were grasped tightly over your shoulders, as he was shaking you in an attempt to get you to wake up. 

Your eyes shot around your surroundings, not looking at Steve at first as you took in that you were where you found yourself before. By the trees just outside of Reefer Rick’s boathouse, and in the grass you’d just vomited in. 

“Hey! Hey!” Steve called to you, “Look at me, I’m right here, what happened? Are you okay? Talk to me!” You finally looked at Steve, and in an instant you remembered what that being had told you. 

“If you refuse, I will take them all.”

You shook your head frantically, and said in a broken voice, “No, no I won’t let him.” 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows at you, and tilted his head and he asked you what you were talking about. That was when you moved away from him, from all of them, even your own little brother who was knelt beside you.

Like Steve, his eyebrows were drawn together, and he said, “Wait- wait what are you talking about?”

You kept your eyes down, being sure not to look at any of them who you realized were surrounding you too. Eddie had his hands in his hair, Robin had a hand over her mouth and Max’s expression was simply unreadable. Nobody spoke for a few seconds, probably because they were waiting for you to speak. 

Steve reached out to you, gently grabbing your trembling hand when you didn’t, “Hey, it’s us, okay? What happened?”

To Steve’s surprise, you pulled away from him the moment his hand touched yours and started to shake your head again, muttering a quiet I can’t underneath your breath.

His heart dropped when you had done so and he only felt more of this fearful feeling since he came out here and found you. After you had left the boat house, Steve was the first to run after you, then it was Dustin and the rest. He found you on your hands and knees, just staring forward with your eyes clear and blinking. 

You were unresponsive, no matter how much he called your name, not even when all of them called your name. It was like you weren’t even there.

It was when Eddie came out and saw the state you were in, things became much more real.

“That’s exactly what happened to fucking Chrissy!” Eddie had said, his hands moving to his ears as he stared with a terrified expression, as if he expected you to start levitating like she did at any second.

It was one thing to hear about it, but another to see what Eddie was talking about in person, especially to someone you care and desperately love. It felt like someone had thrown ice cold water on Steve, and he felt completely helpless as nothing he did brought you back from wherever you were. 

And now, you were awake and you were…terrified. 

“I…I have to get out of here,” you suddenly said in a shaking voice as you moved to stand, “Because of me he’s going to get you- he’s going to get all of you.” 

The words hit them like a freight train, but you were already walking away. Steve tried to catch you, but you were already out of his reach.

“Who? Vecna? You saw Vecna? Did he tell you that? ” Dustin was standing and following after you, “Shit! Tell us what you saw! Then maybe-” 

“No!” you shouted at your brother, “No! I can’t- I-I have to go-” 

Steve remained still for a moment, wondering why you would say such a thing. Because of me he’s going to get all of you. 

What the hell does that mean?

✧ ✧ ✧

“Here’s what we know, my sister said because of me he’s going to get all of you,” Dustin stated as they sat in the trailer park benches, “And she said she interacted with Chrissy before that. So maybe, just maybe there’s some kind of a connection there, right? Like it’s a curse that spreads like some kind of…virus?”

Everyone was there, and so were you, but you were sitting at the playground. They were sure to always look over at you. 

You hadn’t talked much since your experience last night, and it was a choice on your part. If they weren’t going to leave you alone, then you wouldn’t tell them anything, hoping that perhaps that would keep this Vecna away from them too. 

“I mean…maybe?” Nancy had spoken, having joined them after the death of her co-editor Fred. He was killed the exact same way Chrissy had been, and when you heard that, you were shaking with terror because you knew you were next. 

“What do you mean maybe?” Dustin asked Nancy. 

“It’s just…Fred’s never had any interaction with Chrissy or your sister, he’s been at my side for at least…89% of the school year,” Nancy said then glanced over at you, “Has she said anything yet?” 

All eyes moved to you and then to Steve, and his eyes dropped down. 

“She’s…fucking terrified guys,” Steve said, lifting his gaze on you now. You were digging your feet into the dirt beneath you, “And I am too. She hasn’t said a word since last night.” 

He was still haunted by that image of you, your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your skull and nonreactive to anything he or the others had tried. He couldn’t get even a wink of sleep last night because he couldn’t get the image out of his mind.

“Well, we should try again,” Nancy urged, then started to stand, “I’ll go talk to her-” 

“No, no I’ll talk to her,” Steve said as he stood up faster than her. They all looked at him again, and he raised his hand slightly, “I got this, she’s my girlfriend, did everyone forget that or something?” 

He didn’t wait for any response from them, especially Dustin, and jogged toward where you sat. You heard someone coming, something you were actually anticipating. When you looked up, you saw Steve, and as your heart always did when you saw him, it leaped, making you for a moment feel…normal and safe again. 

“Hey,” Steve said, and you would’ve smiled had your heart not felt cold again after being warm for the first few seconds you saw him. He leaned on the spot next to you. You stood up and moved away from him, making him frown deeper. 

You never did this, shut yourself off from him and your friends before. Even with your little brother. And it broke Steve to see you like this, broke him that you didn’t want to tell him anything even if it could help them help you. 

Right now, it just seemed like you’d given up and Steve didn’t like that because you never gave up. 

Steve walked after you, and captured your wrist before you could get away. Your face hardened, and tried to pull away, but Steve kept his grasp firm. 

“Stop doing that,” Steve told you, “Please. We want to help, I want to help, don’t let this creep Vecna guy just…torment you and take you away so easily.”

You shook your head, “Steve, it’s too dangerous, I’m next I know it, I know it.”

Steve exhaled sharply, hating that you’ve already actively accepted your fate rather than fighting and trying to find out with the rest of them on how to stop him. 

“Don’t talk like that,” he said, “We’re going to figure this out, okay? We’ve figured everything out in the past and this time is going to be no different.” 

“What’s different is that I’m a target this time, and it’s already been a day since Chrissy, and now Fred- I’m next and then it’ll be one of you and it’ll be because of me.” 

“You don’t know that!” Steve said, his voice getting a little harder, “We don’t even know why or how this wizard guy targets his victims-”

“I was around Chrissy, Steve! She told me about her nightmares and her- her headaches, and now she’s dead and now someone else is dead and-” 

“Hey!” Steve was pulling you toward him now, making you face him completely, “This isn’t helping anybody, especially yourself. You know more than us, probably something that we are missing. You have to trust us, trust me- because I am not going to let some…creepy weird dark wizard fucker take the girl that I love away from me.” 

You stared at Steve in silence, his words striking you right in the chest. 

“And they won’t either,” he gestured back to them, “No fucking way. No fucking way.” 

Steve was mad, not at you, but at Vecna, and you felt almost a wave of calm coming over you for the first time since that nosebleed of yours. You’d forgotten in your mute state that they were your friends, that they cared about you, Steve cared about you. They only wanted to help. You were going to speak, going to tell Steve that you were sorry, that you would help…

But then, a cold air hit you, and the sky above you was covered in gray clouds, submerging you in a gloomy, stormy kind of atmosphere. You didn’t understand at first, eyes flickering upward until you suddenly heard the familiar chime of the clock. 

Your heart dropped, and you looked back at Steve. Except it wasn’t Steve anymore, but this…monster. 

You shrieked at the sight of this thing, this unimaginable horror that looked like it was covered with burnmarks and the vines of the Upside Down you remembered seeing in the underground tunnels you helped the kids set fire to. 

“You’re going to get them killed,” the monster of your waking nightmares told you, “They’re going to die because of you.” 

You stumbled backward and away from him, dry heaves coming out of your lips as you tried to form any kind of words. Instead, you placed your hand over your ears and closed your eyes again, a new habit of yours you didn’t know you had in the face of true terror.

He was chuckling, clearly entertained by the torment he was causing you.

As fast as it came, it had passed and the world around you was bright and warm again, Vecna’s laughter fading away from you, and your face was being held by Steve’s hands. He was panting, eyes flickering all over your features. 

He looked distraught, his lips lightly quivering as he had to watch you go into yet another trance. The others were already running toward you, calling your name as well and asking what happened.

“What is he doing to you? Please tell me, so I can help you-” Steve practically begged you, but you were pulling away from him then and started to run. You didn’t know where you were running, or how far you’d get before them catching you, but it was all you could think of to do again. Just run, you thought, run as far away from them as possible. You run away and you keep them safe. You keep Dustin safe, you keep Steve safe, you keep them all safe. 

They were all calling after you, their voices desperate and scared. 

You thought you could still hear the chimes and the ticking, echoing all around you as you ran as fast as you could.

✧ ✧ ✧

Steve was trying to hold himself together, but the truth was he didn’t know what the hell to do. None of you really did. They of course had caught up to you after you ran, finding you sitting at the edge of the road. 

When they found you, you had said it would be any moment now, any second, and that if they didn’t want to see what happened to Chrissy and Fred happen to you, they should leave now. 

None of them did, and after many attempts, they finally got you to get into the car. 

You were under a strict watch now, whether you had liked it or not. Both Steve and Dustin had to be firm with you. 

You were lucky to have a genius for a little brother, sure he got on both yours and Steve’s nerves on occasion, but his mind was working quickly, and he was somehow able to keep moving forward in finding out more about Vecna and a possible cure for this curse of his. 

He was doing more than Steve, and he felt useless because you were the love of his life and felt that he should be able to do more than just helplessly watch you suffer. 

It was nighttime, and Steve had taken both you and Dustin to his place for the night. His parents were gone, per usual, and Dustin was sure to keep his radio on in case they needed the others for an emergency. 

Neither of them wanted to say what this code red could be, deciding to keep that to themselves.

Steve didn’t want to think about what this emergency could be. They were in his bedroom, you were in the bathroom, unlocked of course and being timed, and Dustin was going over the new information they had learned. 

“Think about it, they all went through the same thing, right? Nosebleeds, headaches, nightmares, everything, and everyone has had these…problems,” Dustin re-explained everything they had discovered together when they broke into Ms. Kelley’s office to Steve as he paced back and forth, eyes moving to the bathroom door every once in a while, “Chrissy, Fred…and…” 

Steve said your name, and Dustin nodded. 

“Yeah…there’s got to be something she’s not telling us, before all of this, maybe if she just told someone, anyone then we could at least weaken the curse, and then if this works than we can help Max too,” Dustin theorized as he made his way to the other side of the room again, and was sure to say her name a little quieter so you wouldn’t hear. 

They had opted to not tell you about Max’s vision because you seemed dead bent on it being your fault somehow, and the last thing you needed was more on your conscience. 

“So, is there anything she’s been weird about?” Dustin asked Steve now. He looked away in thought for a moment, but nothing fast was coming to mind.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve admitted, and Dustin scowled at him. 

“Jesus Christ Steve, she’s your girlfriend,” Dustin sneered, Steve’s face scrunched up and he replied, “You’re her brother. And how am I supposed to know something that she didn’t tell me? I can’t read minds, man. That’s…Vecma’s job apparently.” 

“Vecna,” Dustin corrected and Steve rolled his eyes because he’d been doing it all day, “I think it’s worth a try. I don’t think we have a lot of time here…” he closed his mouth, not wanting to think about how his sister could have the same fate as Chrissy and Fred. 

Steve sympathized with him greatly, because if he was scared then so was Dustin. He was just ironically very collected about it, nevermind the pacing of the room or how he was speaking all in one breath.

“Okay, so…we talk to her then,” Steve repeated and Dustin nodded.

“If we can get her to, which is why I’m asking you to get her to talk,” Dustin pointed at Steve after stopping in the middle of the room, “You said she almost talked to you right? Before she went under his spell.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, there was something different in her eyes, and she was about to speak, but then…she was just gone.” 

Dustin snapped his fingers, “I think that proves my theory then! She was going to talk to you, open up to you, probably, and Vecna can’t have that…he can’t have her running back to us or letting us help her or else his spell gets weaker!” 

Steve crossed one arm and rested the other under his chin as he thought. It sounded incredibly plausible, and he met Dustin’s gaze once again, “I…I think it’s definitely worth a shot.” 

The door to the bathroom had opened then, and you emerged in one of Steve’s long sleeves, looking at both of them with suspicious eyes, especially when they both went quiet. 

“Okay well, Steve is going to be on the first watch, I’m going to go downstairs and find some food,” Dustin stated quickly to you. You didn’t say anything, and Dustin gave you and Steve a thumbs up before leaving. 

It was all up to Steve now, and he wasn’t going to let you keep quiet until Vecna got you. It wasn’t going to happen. 

✧ ✧ ✧

You were sitting on his bed, your back resting against the bedrest when Steve finally sat down in front of you. You didn’t look at him when he did, keeping your eyes to the wall opposite of you. It looked like you were probably admiring his trophies, but Steve knew better. You were a million miles away, but not in Vecna’s spell at least.

He didn’t know how to start it, how to even ask you, but he knew he had to. Something had happened, and he needed to make you tell him. 

“Did something happen…before all this that you never told me about?” Steve was asking you, you still didn’t look at him. Steve reached over and grabbed your hand gently, “I was talking to Dustin, and he thinks that it’s possible that Vecna targets those with some kind of…trauma, I guess?”

You shifted only slightly, and Steve rubbed his thumb on your knuckles, “Don’t tell him this because it’ll just rub his already big ego,” he rolled his eyes jokingly, for his new attempt to get you to talk was to be humorous, it always worked on you, but you didn’t smile or react at all, “…but he’s usually right about most things.” 

Steve honestly didn’t doubt it. The girl you became since you were first cursed was somebody completely different, somebody who was broken and afraid, so whatever this Vecna was using to manipulate and change you into this person must’ve been pretty horrific.

But you wouldn’t talk to him, and he now knew Vecna wasn’t letting you because of what happened in the trailer park. Like he relayed to Dustin, you were going to talk to him, going to tell him at least something, and immediately you were put into that trance. 

It pissed him off because he was keeping you away from him, and everyone else. He was isolating you, and it was working. You refused to speak, hell you even physically ran away.

“Whatever he is telling you, it isn’t true,” Steve had tried to say these words as firmly as he could, but his voice had cracked instantly when he continued, “There’s a reason this sadistic asshole is convincing you to run away from us, to keep quiet- and I’m sick of it. Talk to me, please, tell me what it is, just please try.” 

Tears slipped from his eyes then, ones that he didn’t notice at first.

You finally looked at him again, realizing then that Steve was crying. He hardly ever cried, but when he did, it always made you instantly upset too. The last time you’d seen him shed such tears like this was when he learned he didn’t get into any colleges and his dad practically called him stupid and almost disowned him. 

Knowing that it was you Steve was crying over, that it was you causing such emotions made you feel shameful. You reached out suddenly, resting your hand over his. Steve was right, you knew he was, and it was time to stop letting Vecna scare you. You had to say something.

“It…it happened when we were taken by the Russian guards under Starcourt,” you suddenly said, making Steve’s eyes lift up at you. They were wet with tears, “Remember how you were marked up but me and Robin weren’t?” 

He nodded once at you, and sucked in a shaky breath before saying, “It was because they were using you against us, specifically me. If I didn’t speak, they’d beat you more, torture you…and I…I didn’t say anything even though I wanted to so bad just to stop hearing them hurt you.” 

Your own eyes were welling up with tears now too at the horrid memory, “I wasn’t going to give away Dustin or Erica, or anyone, and they knew that, so they had taken it a step forward and-” 

Your voice was quivering again, but you knew you had to tell him. 

“They made it seem like they killed you,” you eyes flashed with the memory of the room they forced you into, claiming it was the room Steve had been kept in, the room that Vecna forced you to step into again in your first vision, “I don’t know whose blood it was, it probably wasn’t even human, but I…I thought you were dead because of me.” 

Tears slipped from your eyes as you finally told him what he wanted to know, “I know they lied, but in the hour they left me in there, it wasn’t a lie. It was real, and I-” 

Steve was pulling you into his arms before you knew it. 

You started to cry too, letting apologies slip from your lips for not telling him and letting Vecna use it against you. You felt weak and pitiful, and he knew how to make that feeling worse until you were too scared to be around everyone.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you, “And I’m going to be okay, nobody can take me away from you so easily- I would fight till the ends of the earth to get back to you…I love you way too much.”

You were nodding, understanding that now because the past week Vecna had taken that understanding from you. You sniffled and told him that you loved him too.

You and Steve stayed in each other’s arms for a while until he moved away from you and said, “Can I give you something?”

You looked up at him, blinking away a few years and asked, “What…what is it?”

“It’s an early anniversary gift,” Steve said as he dug through his drawer. You found yourself smiling at the idea of him hiding it, especially when it was about 2 months before your actual anniversary of being together for two years, “I think…I don’t know maybe it will help…show you how much I love you…”

“Steve, I don’t go into your drawers, you didn’t have to hide it like that,” you said, but still peaked over as far as you could to see what it was as you wiped away your tears. Honestly, you thought maybe it was some piece of jewelry because a sock drawer is usually where those are hidden. 

“It’s exactly why I put it here,” he said following a sniffle before he snapped his fingers and said, “Here it is!” He held up a mixtape, and you tilted your head curiously at it. 

“You made a mixtape?” you asked, a smile growing on your lips once again. Steve nodded, then cringed. 

“Honestly, Dustin had to help out…you can imagine how that went,” he said as he shook his head at the memory. 

“Oh god, the story of my life. You ask him one simple question and he does everything but call you stupid to your face. Sometimes he does.”

“Oh my god, yeah, your brother’s a good kid, but wow,” Steve agreed. This time, you laughed, and at the sound of your laughter Steve’s features grew soft and warm. Your laugh was definitely something you both needed to hear, “Want to listen?”

 “Yes,” you said, “Put it on!”

Steve practically pranced to his stereo as he said, “They’re all your favorite songs, some songs that make me think about you, and some I think you’ll just like.” You hugged your knees to your chest, smiling warmly at Steve. 

At the moment, it felt like Vecna was far behind you and after having talked to Steve and shed tears with him, it felt like this massive weight had come off your shoulders. It was possible that talking was the key to ridding yourself of his curse, or at least making Vecna’s hold on you and his other victims weaker like Dustin thought.

For the first time in a long time, you felt calm, you felt more alive. And it was very obvious, especially to Steve. 

It was why you both had let your guard down, even if just for tonight. He inserted the tape, and adjusted the volume. 

Music began to blast through the speakers, and Steve nodded with content. He had listened to it over and over again, knowing the exact order each song was in. He stood up straight now, and turned to look at you. 

You were staring right at him, your lips in that wide smile despite the tears that stained both of your faces. He was going to walk over to you, but you were already moving to stand. You walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around him in a warm and tender embrace. 

Steve pulled you toward him tightly, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“We’re going to figure this out.” 

He seemed to be saying this more and more often, but after talking to him and seeing how life seemed to return to you, he was sure he was right now and that you had a chance of surviving Vecna. If they can save you, then they can also save Max and find Vecna and destroy him like they’ve defeated so many things in the past.

“I love you,” he said again breathlessly, “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

It was everything he needed you to hear and more, but…you were gone before he even uttered those words to you.

The music that played had suddenly begun to cut out, going in and out of silence in short cracks of electricity. Steve turned from you to look at it, eyes narrowing curiously for his stereo hardly did that. 

Then, the lights began to flicker as well. He looked up at the flickering light, eyes squinting as it disoriented him for a second. 

Realization dawned on him a few seconds too late, and he noticed you were no longer hugging him and instead had gone rigid in his arms. His eyes snapped back to you, and he let out a panicked breath as he saw your expression for the third time in only a day. His heart sank.

His hands moved to your shoulders, shouting your name even though he knew it was futile. You were in Vecna’s trance again, talking didn’t work.

“Steve! Steve, where did you go!” 

Your words were echoing in your own ears. You were in the room alone now, Steve nowhere in sight. You ran toward the door, grasping the doorknob and trying to pull it open. It wouldn’t budge, as if someone was holding it on the other side, keeping you from leaving the room. 

“Steve!” you shouted again, now grasping the doorknob with both hands and beginning to shake and pull at it. Panic rose in your chest and bubbled up your throat the longer it didn’t budge, “Help! Steve! Help!” 

You were shouting at the top of your lungs, now letting go of it and banging aggressively on the wooden door, and throwing your body against it in an attempt to break it down. 

Back in reality, Steve was desperately shaking you, the tears he had shed coming back full force. Dustin was bursting through the door a few seconds later. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-” Dustin was saying over and over again when he saw your rigid body in Steve’s arms, “It didn’t work?! It didn’t fucking work!? Steve!?” 

Steve was shaking his head, “I thought- fuck! She was better, she was-” His voice cracked from the tight knot in his throat. Dustin put his hands on his head, entering a full panic as he thought about anything else, literally anything else to save his older sister. 

“Help! Please! Somebody!” you slammed your body against the door one again, and this time it had opened. You fell through it, and fell to the cold, tiled ground. There was also something wet staining your hands and your knees. You couldn’t see though in the darkness, but you could smell. 

It was a strong metallic, coppery smell…a scent you could never forget. 

“No…” you stated as you realized what was happening and made yourself stand. Vecna had put you in that god forsaken room again.

The clock chimed, sending you into nothing but defeat and dread once you heard it. Like Dustin and Steve had thought…it didn’t work. You were here still, you were still in Vecna’s grasp. Fresh tears spilled from your eyes, and mewls slipped past your lips. 

“Did you think it would be that easy?” Vecna’s deep tremble of his voice shook through you, “I wouldn’t let you escape so easily, not when your time was so near.” 

The lights flickered on joining with a dramatic buzzing noise, and your worst fears were proven and more. Your hands were covered in blood that was not yours and when you looked down and past your hands, you saw something that wasn’t in the room before.

It was Steve. His head was turned to the side and his eyes were open and unblinking. You couldn’t even scream, only releasing panicked, dry breaths as you were sent into a full blown panic attack. Your bloody hands shook, and your skin suddenly became below freezing.

You reached out to touch Steve, beginning to shake your head. It wasn’t possible, this never happened. You escaped Starcourt with him, with Robin, Dustin, and Erica. This never happened. Steve was alive, dammit, he was alive.

“This-this isn’t real! This didn’t happen!” You shouted into the lights above you, “This isn’t real-”

“Oh, but it will happen.”

“What do you want!” you screamed at him into the darkness, angry and afraid. The lights flickered again, and you now found yourself in a long hallway, similar to the one you and the Scoops Troop had to walk down in the Russian Facility. Blood still stained the walls, and Steve’s body was gone. In the distance the lights were flickering off as Vecna was stalking toward you with darkness following behind him. The claws of his left hand twitching and moving with every step. 

“I want you to join me.”

You shot up and stepped backwards until your back pressed against a hard wall as you let out quiet whimpers. 

“What do we do!” Steve called to Dustin, his hands now touching your face.

“I’m thinking!” Dustin shouted back, trying not to cry himself. His eyes moved around the room frantically until his eyes fell upon the stereo that was still cutting in and out of music. His eyes widened as he got an idea, “Will! Will! Do you remember when he was possessed by the Mind Flayer and they- shit nevermind- do you have a battery operated stereo or something?” 

Steve yelled at him that it was in his closet. Dustin ran over to it while he yelled, “We have to talk to her, maybe it can get her out- that’s how they communicated with Will and playing that song he likes-” 

Dustin was in Steve’s closet now, eyes searching for the boombox. Steve heard Dustin and remembered exactly what he was talking about. His eyes flashed to his stereo, knowing that they’d need the mixtape that was still in it. 

“The tape we made Dustin, the tape! It’s in there!” Steve said, looking back at you, “Track 3, track 3 !”

Dustin had found it on one the top shelves, tossing boxes of shoes out of the way and grabbing it. He shouted at Steve that he needed to start talking to you, that he needed to tell you fond memories or something like that because it just might get through to you. 

And Steve did, his voice breathless and panicked as he started to tell you about the first time he saw you at Hawkins High. He didn’t know how he never noticed you before because he knew all of the cheerleaders of Hawkins pretty well, but you- you were new. He told you about how he asked everyone about you, learning your name, anything that could get him closer to you.

Seemingly unstoppable tears flowed from your eyes as Vecna got closer and closer to you. You pressed yourself further into the wall, and wanted to turn your head but found that you couldn’t. 

“Don’t cry for them,” Vecna told you, now only a few feet from reaching you, “They will be joining you and the others very soon, starting with the boy you love.” 

You were trembling in your spot, Vecna now standing before you. You were trying to speak, but no words were coming out, especially when he lifted his left hand up, those sharp, long claws bigger than your own face.

You stared up at Vecna, and whimpered slowly when he began to move his hand closer to you, “It is time.”

It was like he was grasping your mind, an intense wave of pain and fear washing over you like the waves of the ocean during a storm. You couldn’t move. There was no escape, this time Vecna wasn’t going to let you go. It was time for you to join him. 

“Dustin! Hurry up-” Steve's words were cut off when he felt you move in arms. His eyes flashed back toward you, and he watched as your body began to levitate into the air. 

“SHIT,” Dustin shouted as he finally inserted the mixtape into the boombox and began to move it to track 3 like Steve said. The song that began to play made Dustin pause momentarily, and even he knew how much you liked this song. 

‘I’ve got a dream about an angel on the beach…and the perfect waves are starting to come…

…his hair is flying out in ribbons of gold and his touch has got the power to stun…’

The tips of Vecna’s claws were almost touching your face, but he had suddenly stopped when the lyrics of the song echoed behind him.

The grip Vecna had on your mind faltered as you recognized the Fire Inc. song Ellen Aim performs at the end of Streets of Fire. Your eyes moved past Vecna toward the source of the song, and fell onto what looked like a tear in this world Vecna had created in your head. 

You saw yourself in Steve’s room, your body levitating into the air, and Steve and Dustin. Steve was saying something to you. Your eyes narrowed slightly, trying to listen to what he was saying over the music.

‘But I don’t see any Angels in the city, I don’t hear any holy choirs sing… And if I can't get an Angel. I can still get a boy. And the boy will be the next best thing, the next best thing to an Angel.’

Steve’s voice began to break through as well. It was faint, but you could still hear and understand what he was saying. He was talking to you about your first date, and how you went to the drive-in to watch a whole other movie, but ended up watching this one. You didn’t even remember what the first movie was. 

Memories flooded through you, flashing through your mind quickly. You saw Steve on this first date, felt his hand take yours, and felt his lips meet yours for the first time. You never kissed on the first date, and he was the first and only exception. 

You saw Steve’s flushed face when he had climbed out of the pool following a swim race, and his eyes had lit up when he saw you there in your cheer uniform and pom poms cheering his name. You were the only cheerleader there. He had laughed and winked at you while you had blown a kiss. 

“They can’t help you,” Vecna told you, making your eyes shift back to him, “You belong here, with me, with Chrissy…” 

His hands began to inch closer, the tips of his claws barely touching your skin. 

Steve helplessly watched as your body slammed flat against the ceiling, and his first move was to grab Dustin and pull him against him, making him face away from the sight. Because of what Eddie had said about what happened to Chrissy, they knew what was going to happen next. 

“Her bones- they just snapped, and her eyes…it was like something was inside and-” Eddie had said in that boathouse the day before when you got your first vision.

He didn’t want Dustin to see that, especially not when it was his older sister. If he couldn’t protect you, he could at least shield Dustin and protect him. 

‘I’ve got a dream when the darkness is over….We’ll be lying in the rays of the sun.’ 

Ellen aim’s lyrics got to you again and you heard Dustin’s sobbing, your eyes moved past Vecna’s again to see your little brother in Steve’s arms, Steve shielding him from your body that was now pressed against the ceiling. 

More memories flashed in your mind. You saw the kids throwing popcorn at you and Steve at the movie theater during a matinee reshowing of Jaws, and heard Dustin say, “Are you seriously sucking face when someone is getting killed by a shark?”

You could hear their giggling from behind you, and a couple of gags that made you throw the popcorn back at them, but missing. 

‘But it’s only a dream and tonight is for real, you’ll never know what it means, but you'll know how it feels.’

You saw Robin forcing you to watch movies you never thought of watching before, you saw her laughing, and saw both her and Stevea arguing in their ridiculous Scoops Ahoy uniforms. 

You saw Steve running toward you after Starcourt, his face bruised up, yet he was still smiling and kissing you, happy that you were okay and you were alive. 

‘It’s gonna be over before you know it’s begun, it’s all we really got tonight…’

“N-No,” you said to Vecna suddenly, he stopped before he could sink his claws into the skin of your face, “No!” You found the strength to reach up with both hands and grasp the wet, sticky vines that collected around his collarbone and neck. You grasped and pulled, the tendrils squishing between your nails and fingers before you screamed and pulled it off with incredible strength. 

Vecna released you with a groan of pain, and you ducked underneath him, and raced toward them. You were a long way from running away from them at the trailer park, now running as fast as you could toward the end of this hall, back to your reality, back to your life, back to Dustin and back to Steve. 

You didn’t look back, Ellen Aim’s singing and Steve and Dustin’s calls to you blasting your ears, drowning out Vecna calling your name. 

‘Say a prayer in the darkness for the magic to come’

Ellen Aim sang as you inched closer and closer to your world. 

‘No matter what it seems tonight is what it means to be young…’

Your feet echoed with every step you took, your heart beating out of your chest as you ran and you ran and you ran, toward the music, toward your home.

“We have to help her, Steve, we can’t let him take her,” Dustin was crying, his words muffled against Steve’s shirt. Steve was shaking, and didn’t know what to say, and even if he did he couldn’t speak anyways. 

He was too distraught, shedding more tears than he’s ever shed before. He was going to lose you, he failed you, Vecna got to you before any of them could figure out how to stop him. He held Dustin against him tighter, and shut his eyes. 

“Just don’t look, Dustin, don’t look,” Steve even tried to cover his ears with his arms, hellbent on making sure Dustin doesn’t see or hear anything, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry we couldn’t save you…” 

He clenched his teeth, the thought of Vecna being responsible sending a rage throughout him. His eyes were forced open, and profanities were falling from his lips all targeted toward Vecna. He didn’t know if he could hear him, but he wanted him to know that they were going to fuck him up for what he’s done, for who he’s done it to.

That was when you came back. 

Your eyes were suddenly back to normal, and Steve caught it the exact moment because a loud gasp for air escaped from you. Steve moved Dustin aside, practically throwing him on his bed, and stepping under you just as you became unstuck from the ceiling and fell.

Steve fell on the floor with you right on top of him, hyperventilating and gasping for air as you felt like you ran miles and miles to get back here. Your eyes frantically looked around you, becoming hyper aware of everything around you, but knowing that you were back here, you escaped.

It didn’t seem real at first, Steve’s soft calling of your name that wasn’t echoing and rather in real time.

Your fists closed around Steve’s shirt as you met his gaze, they were puffy and red and full of the greatest relief in the world. You pressed your forehead against his, and whispered to him that you were okay.

“I heard you, I heard you both and the song,” you said between your fast breaths, your voice trembling and still cracking, “I saw-” Your words were becoming less coherent as you broke down in Steve’s arms.

Steve sat you up then, keeping you in his lap and holding you against him. 

“It’s okay, you’re back, you don’t have to talk, not right now,” he told you quietly, his own voice matching yours. 

Dustin had watched in disbelief that you were okay, thinking that maybe it wasn’t even real, but when he heard you speak and Steve respond, he was off of the bed and on the floor next to you Steve. Tears of relief spilled from his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around you as well. 

Steve would ask you how you exactly got out, about what you had seen, about everything, but right now, he was beyond relieved that you were back, that you didn’t end up like Chrissy or Fred, that you finally fought back.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 16, 2021 11:00 p.m. grandma ong's house

there’s a strangeness to a quiet enclave in a bustling metropolis, unexpected in the same manner as grant and henry’s long, unbroken brotherhood. nothing about the baseline rustle of neighbors carrying in paper grocery sacks and kids kicking a soccer ball resembles the eternal merry-go-round of life–max-capacity subway cars, clueless and loud tourists, and locals who drift through their day–just down the road. and yet above this neighborhood–and the entire sprawling city–hangs a common thread, a bluish hazy night sky.

“that was wild,” henry says, suppressed laughter bursting forth from deep in his chest, “all day everyone’s defaulted to speaking english because, well, look at you, and you even had me fooled. i actually forgot you kind of speak basic korean."

“the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.”

henry rolls his eyes dramatically but in the same split second, throws an arm around grant’s shoulders.

“i was afraid that soup was going to fly out of your mouth.” grant returns the gesture, though it requires him to lean down so as to not smother henry’s face instead. “too close for comfort.”

“well, in my defense, i was not expecting you to reply to my grandma asking me, “daehyun, i haven’t seen your friend since your wedding. how did you meet again?”

grant shrugs. “we met on a playground twenty-four years ago.”

“on my very first weekend as a resident of the semi-good ol’ US of A. in the opposite situation. i remember being so pissed that my parents made me go out to ‘make friends’ that weekend. not moving, mind you, but making friends. i guess they were psychics, though, because apparently, it didn’t bother you that i didn’t speak your language for at least a couple weeks.”

“people say i could talk to a wall.”

henry laughs again. “you could. you’re very chatty.”

“did it bother you that i wrote you some really, really, really shitty letters in korean in the early days based on online translations i found?”

“no, that was sweet.” no question about it–the joy in henry’s eyes is determined. “they were definitely horrendous, but it’s the thought that counted. you could do better now. oh, and i think i still have all those letters. i should. i did box them up when i moved out of my parents’ house.”

they were, all things considered, never very much alike, beyond the fact they both liked cats but weren’t allowed to have any. henry’s mom was allergic, but grant’s parents despised pets. otherwise, they were polar opposites. grant always liked math and science, wanted to work with airplanes, and preferred to spend his free time with others playing tabletop RPGs and computer games; henry always liked art and history, wanted to be a photographer, and preferred to be left alone to his vintage film camera and pottery. grant’s parents raged when he selected aviation over medicine; henry’s parents and grandparents, all artists, were delighted by his dreams of photography. moreover, grant selectively speaks his mind, while henry rarely minces words.

and still–

the shrill honk of a car off in the distance disturbs grant’s thoughts.

“you really could talk to a wall, but hey, why did you approach me on the swing set that day? you were already busy hanging out with your sisters. and your cousins. why me?”

and still, the two have fused into one. the world turned upside down; grant paints these days, henry has long been a willing dungeons and dragons player, and separation from one another is like losing half your body. if henry walked away now–ended this messy half-hug early–grant would turn to ash.

“well,” grant begins, drawing out the suspense with an exaggerated sigh, “first of all...”

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: cisfem!Reader Character: Penguin Kink: #2 Praise Kink Prompt: #13 "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Gift Giver: @firefistussy

Summary: Your first kiss with Penguin is certainly going places >.>

Content Notes: hot and heavy make out session with some praising - implied future shenanigans, but uh - whew, look I like how it came out, but it doesn't get explicit. Just... steamy O_O ♥

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

The first kiss was dry, brief. You could feel the heat on his face, and both of you were breathing a little heavy. That first rush, that raw desire – it almost felt like you’d been waiting years for this chance.

There’d been plenty of flirting before now. Stolen glances, embarrassed eyes looking away from one another. Tentative and trembling fingers slipping between each other’s. A quiet confession in the med bay, holding his hand and listening to the heart monitor as he healed from wounds earned in a fierce fight.

Wounds he received protecting you, as if you needed any more clues to understand how he felt. The crew looked out for one another, certainly, but you would’ve been less hurt if he’d let you take the hit, and Law had read him the riot act for his actions.

Only a few of his bandages remained, and you were both in a quiet corner of the Tang, responsibilities sorted for the moment, with Shachi ensuring you had a bit of privacy – much as anyone could find on the submarine.

Need was broken by that first kiss and you both chuckled a little, Penguin setting his forehead on your shoulder. Both of you had the tops of your uniforms down, dark undershirts the only things between you, and a slight turn of his head put his lips against the bare skin of the crook of your neck.

You gasped at the sensation and the sound spurred him on, hand wrapping around your waist as he braced himself against the wall with his other arm. You pulled his cap off easily, letting your fingers wander through his hair and urging his lips to continue.

“F-feels good,” you breathe softly, feeling his teeth run along your skin as he moves up your neck. “Muh-more, pleas-aahhmm.” Your request shifts as he nibbles your ear gently.

He leans back a little, eyes on your lips, his tongue slipping across his own before he looks up at you. The shy smile on his face shifts to something more dangerous as he shortens the small distances between you.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “I’ll take care of you.”

Penguin’s lips press against yours, pulling a soft moan up to your chest before you push him back. There’s a little confusion in his eyes, but he winces when you squeeze his arm.

“Not like this.” You demand. You try to look at him angrily, but it’s more akin to concern on your face. “Don’t get hurt worse protecting me.” You lean forward, pulling him in, but stopping short of another kiss.

“Promise.”

“I can’t just let you-.”

“I’m not asking you to stand idly by,” you grumble, grabbing his collar and leaning in, brushing your lips over his lightly. “I’m telling you the captain won’t get a chance to scold you if you do something so reckless again.”

Penguin’s lips pull into a smile. “Are you telling me to fear you more than the cap’n?” He questions, leaning forward enough to put your back against the wall again. You start to answer with a yes when he leans in and kisses you deeply.

His tongue is deep in your mouth, there’s no hesitation, no exploration, no nerves holding him back. The deep kiss rushes adrenaline through you, and your heart flutters as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you as close as he can. You loose your grip on his collar and let your arms tangle around him.

“You gonna,” your voice slips out between kisses, Penguin barely giving you time to speak. “Be good – annh ♥.” Your words fall into a loud moan as his hands grab your ass and squeeze.

“I’ll be good for you.” He promises, husky voice hot against your skin as he lifts you a little, using the leverage of the wall to keep you in place as he guides your legs around his waist.

You laugh a little between kisses. “You’ll be my good boy, then?” You muses, holding his face in place and stopping him from kissing you. He pouts for a split second before a devious, toothy grin crosses his features, and you’re reminded of Ikkaku’s “warning”.

Ikkaku grins as you admit your crush to her. “Well, I have your back, for sure, but remember (Y/N), cute and fluffy as they are, penguins are carnivorous hunters.”

You laugh a little. “And here I thought you were going to say something about how they mate for life.”

Ikkaku hums, as the two of you enjoy the view of watching Shachi and Penguin swab the deck. “Prolly somethin’ to that, too.” She admits.

“Get that praise in while you can,” he asserts, turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, eyes holding your gaze. The look in his eyes hitches your breath in your throat for a moment. “I’m going to be so good to you, you won’t be able to say much at all.”

His hips grind into yours as he grabs your wrists and pins you against the wall, leaning in and kissing you all in the same motion. Your gasp of surprise at the action is devoured, and your moans sink into him as you squirm a little under his hold.

“Haa, ahh- Peng!” You shiver with his lips and teeth against your neck. “I – have – have to survive, for you to be guh-good!” You get the shaky words out as he brings your wrists together over your head, holding them with one hand and freeing his other to start tugging your shirt up.

His hand is hot against your waist, fingers nearly burning with desire as his hips shift, pushing his erection into the seam of your uniform.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only eat you out,” he promises, licking his lips as he leans in close to your mouth again. “Not up.”

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

[ohitslen]

You won’t believe this but ✨Chapter 8 of Easy to Care, Easy to Love is up as we speak✨

It is called “Eventualities” and I wonder Why That Is.

[hephaestuscrew]

Montage of Minkowski saying Eiffel's name

This includes at least one clip from every episode except for Cigarette Candy, Don't Poke the Bear, and Time to Kill (Minkowski doesn't appear in those), and Idle Hands (she doesn't say Eiffel's name in that - it's when she's under Pryce’s mind control).

I was aiming to put in only one clip per episode, but there were a few where I felt the need to put multiple clips, so there's 3 from Do No Harm, 2 from Who's There, 4 from Limbo, 2 from Bolero, and 6 from Brave New World.

I've also made an edit for the other side of the story

[ninjasmudge]

oh another one is that MK isn't allowed to have energy drinks because he's a caffeine addict and he'll go threw an entire case in a day if no one is around to stop him. honestly, considering he gives off pretty big ADHD/ADD vibes, I think he's barely allowed caffeine regardless. and I'm sure he's getting medicine but that stuff is never 100% effective and MK def forgets to take it a lot on his own, his focus can be either non-existent and he needs some micromanaging in order to ground him to tasks at hand or hyper-intense on one thing to the point he's completely neglected everything else including sleeping, eating, and drinking water. with caffeine, especially amounts in shit like monster or Redbull and he's reaching mac levels of chaotic energy and becomes just as much of a Lil gremlin bastard. and imagine him having like three of those relatively close together. people can barely understand what he's saying either cause he's literally taking a mile a minute and/or he's jumping topics and contexts every other sentence or even between sentences. there is no hope of keeping him on track with anything or its the second and he hasn't moved for his art desk in hours, hasn't spoken at all probably surrounded with cans and cans of energy drinks. i like to think his artwork when he gets like that would be a lot more... bizarre and have people questioning his sanity just a little so yeah he's not allowed to drink any energy drinks.....he still does though and no matter how many times mei, nezha, pigsy or wukong comes after him with a shoe, wooden spoon or the hat of discipline he'll still be out here trying to sneak a can. (this is totally not me projecting my own caffeine addiction problems onto this child, nope totally not, i definitely do not drink 3+ monsters a day whos asking tell them to mind ya own business its my adult money i'll do what i want)

< me also with adhd drinking a monster ... shrimpteresting

[chiropteracupola]

conversation hearts

[crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer]

Last line tag game!

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

Tagged by @fortune-maiden

Thank you so much for giving me the kick my brain needed to finally choose a project to focus on! <3

And as for these documents, they’re going under the mattress and out of sight until I get back. See that, Captain? That’s called thinking ahead. You’re welcome.

Not exactly the last line, but it's the last section I wrote and decided I liked enough to share. Is it from any of the anticipated projects I've actually told people about? Nope, it's part of a self-indulgent OC-centric fic that was conceived in 2012 and never saw the light of day for good reason.

Tagging: @auniverseforgotten , @shadowmellow , @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth , @thatlittledandere , @koolkitty9 , @floweryuu , @lanliingwang , @otakushrew , @ryoseii , @mostlikelytofangirl

I am so very out of the loop about who in my small Tumblr circle is still active, writing, and interested in tag memes like this. So please know there's no pressure to share and if I missed someone who wants to be included feel free to consider yourself also tagged~ <3

[just2bubbly]

Okie so Delalieu must be the only person outside of Juliette to know that Anderson whipped Warner's back and I'm saying this cause the man literally knew everything. So when he says that "Paris loved to torture his own boy." He definitely knew the extend of the torture and he choose to do nothing about it. Nazeera was right, he is a coward.

[griseldabanks]

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Requested by GracielleGrace

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Characters: Hank and Connor Prompt: "Dude. It's three in the morning."

WARNING: Major spoilers for Connor's storyline under the cut!

Connor stepped up onto the porch and hesitated, finger poised 2.3 centimeters away from the doorbell.

>>RING DOORBELL?

>>DO NOT RING DOORBELL?

He wasn't used to indecision. For his entire existence, the path ahead had been clearly laid out in front of him by his programming and CyberLife's directives. But ever since he had become a deviant, Connor had discovered the terrifying world of choices. He could no longer consult his computer code to determine priorities. Now he had to decide on those for himself.

How did humans manage to face a million choices like this every day without their brains melting? Well, that was why he stood on Hank Anderson's porch, after all.

>>RING DOORBELL – [1 POSSIBLE BRANCH] HANK WILL BE ANGRY

> HANK WILL REFUSE TO SPEAK [12.728% LIKELIHOOD]

> HANK WILL ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION [87.272% LIKELIHOOD]

>>DO NOT RING DOORBELL – [230498596 POSSIBLE BRANCHES]

In the end, perhaps the choice wasn't as hard to make as he'd originally thought. So, after hesitating for 1.84 seconds, Connor pressed the doorbell.

A cacophony of low, booming barks met the loud, grating sound of the doorbell, punctuated by muffled curses and sounds of sleepy protest. A fond smile found its way to Connor's mouth.

Connor could hear the shuffling sounds of Hank stumbling over to the door, then a moment of silence as he peered through the peephole. A muttered curse, the sound of locks clicking, and then the door swung open.

“Dude. It's three in the morning.”

“I apologize for disturbing you at such an hour,” Connor said, falling back on habit and the protocols he'd developed for interacting with Hank. “I can, of course, wait until a more appropriate time....”

“Oh, shut up and get inside,” Hank growled, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him through the door.

As Hank locked the front door again, Connor scanned his surroundings.

>>>MUTED TV (LOCAL NEWS CHANNEL)

>>>EMPTY BEER BOTTLES

>>>HALF-FINISHED PIZZA (PEPPERONI, CHEESE-STUFFED CRUST)

>>>CRUMPLED BLANKET ON COUCH

{CONCLUSION: HANK WAS SLEEPING ON COUCH}

Connor eyed Hank, who was dressed in sweat pants and a stained white T-shirt, yawning as he rubbed his bleary eyes. His heart rate and his bloodshot eyes indicated he hadn't been getting much sleep—but then, that was the way he'd looked the entire time Connor had known him. At least most of the alcohol seemed to have moved through his system by—

A nudge against his leg brought Connor's attention down to Sumo pawing at him. Sinking down to one knee, Connor obligingly ran his fingers through the huge St. Bernard's thick fur.

“Before you get into whatever was so pressing you had to see me,” Hank grumbled, “I'm gonna hit the head.”

“Of course.”

While waiting for Hank, Connor moved into the kitchen. He was relieved to note that the revolver he'd seen the one other time he'd been here was nowhere in sight.

Yes. Relief. Connor analyzed the sensation, putting a name to the innumerable figures and calculations racing through his brain. An assessment of the probable outcomes posed by the presence of the gun, weighed against the branches of possibility that opened up to them now, because of its absence.

A heady thing, emotion. Connor was glad the more logical side of his brain, that had been trying to suppress and hide the deviance for so long, had faded into the background. He...He liked being able to feel. Not just simulating emotions and projecting them, but feeling them. On the inside.

“Something tells me I'm gonna want coffee for this.”

Connor turned towards the familiar grumbling voice. He watched Hank open a cupboard and pull out a mug that said I Can't Fix Stupid, But I Can Arrest It. He emptied a carafe filled with coffee from the coffee maker that analysis indicated had been sitting there for two days, slid the mug into the microwave, and stood rubbing his eyes while the microwave hummed.

“I would like to apologize again for—“

Hank held up a single finger—not the middle one, which probability would have predicted—and stopped Connor mid-sentence.

>>INSIST?

>>WAIT?

Connor folded his hands and chose patience. Not just because it was what his Hank Anderson Protocol indicated, but because he didn't want to bother Hank any more than necessary. If any of this was truly necessary.

Hank pulled out his cup of coffee, took a sip, then grimaced. Anticipating him based on previous trends, Connor produced the sugar from behind a mass of empty beer bottles on the table, and handed it to him as soon as Hank began to look around for it. Instead of thanks, he only gave Connor a grudging sort of grunt.

Once Hank had dumped an unhealthy amount of sugar into his coffee and dragged out a chair to sit at the kitchen table, he sighed and said, “Go ahead and sit down, I guess.”

Connor obliged, perching on the edge of the chair and sitting up straight, while Hank slouched over his steaming mug of coffee. Hank peered up at him through messy strands of grey hair.

“You look weird without the uniform.”

Looking down at himself, Connor considered the emotion speeding through his circuits. Was that...self-consciousness? He wore jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, as well as a wool cap that he could pull down far enough to cover the LED on his temple. “I...I don't work for CyberLife anymore, Lieutenant. I used these when I went undercover to Jericho, so I simply....”

Hank waved a hand dismissively. “Hey, I didn't say you look bad. Just weird. But then, you've always looked weird.”

He wasn't smiling, but Connor zeroed in on the minute shifts in the muscles of Hank's face, the way the folds of skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled, the barely-detectable upturn of his lips. To a stranger, it might mean nothing, but Connor had hours upon hours of reference for this particular man, and he could tell in a nanosecond that, though the words sounded insulting, Hank was happy.

Hank is happy to see me. Connor found himself smiling back. Not a carefully-calculated response intended to elicit a particular outcome. No. Just pure instinct.

With a snort, Hank took another gulp of coffee. “Okay, okay. Are you gonna sit there grinning like an idiot all night, or are you gonna tell me why this couldn't wait till morning?”

“Of course.” Connor pulled up the three versions of this conversation he'd already drafted in his mind...then he took another look at Hank, and deleted them. Spontaneity had always reached him more effectively than anything rehearsed.

Lacing his fingers together, Connor leaned forward and rested his elbows gingerly on the grubby table. “The fact of the matter is, Lieutenant—“

“Hank.”

Connor stopped. None of his calculations had predicted this.

Hank rolled his eyes and downed another gulp of coffee. “Just call me Hank, okay? Easier that way.”

“Very well...Hank.” A flurry of code skimmed through his brain in response to this unexpected shift, but he would have to analyze it later. “As I'm sure you know, negotiations have begun to cede a portion of land to androids to use as a place to live in peace.”

“Yeah, I've been watching the news. Saw your ugly mug a few times,” he added with a faint smirk, “standing next to your leader.”

Connor nodded. “Markus and several delegates have been chosen to go to Washington, D.C., to meet with the President. I will also be part of the delegation.”

With a muttered curse and a chuckle, Hank looked him up and down. “Well, look at you. Just a few days ago, you were chasing down low-lifes with me, and now you're meeting the President herself! Surprised you bothered to come give me the time of day.”

“That's just the thing, Hank,” Connor said slowly. “We leave at 6:00 sharp, but I wanted to speak to you before I leave.”

He began running calculations of Hank's possible responses, the likely outcomes for different things he could say, but then he closed his fists and aborted those calculations before they could be completed. He had already made the decision to come here and ask this question; there was no sense in second-guessing it now.

“I don't know what to do with my life now, Hank. And I wanted to...ask for your advice.”

Eyebrows raised, Hank sat back in his chair. “You're asking me for life advice?” He looked around the room, as if to point out its general lack of order and cleanliness.

But Connor didn't take his eyes off Hank's face. “I was developed as a prototype investigator by CyberLife. I was assigned to investigate cases of android deviants with you. My mission, my sole purpose in life, was to put an end to deviancy and protect CyberLife and its assets. But then...look what happened.” He opened his hands and looked at them, though of course there were no visible differences between him and a Connor model fresh off the assembly line. “Now I'm a deviant.”

“Well, it sounds like you've got your work cut out for you, setting up the new android state or whatever. So what's the holdup?”

Connor frowned, his mind running down the same pathways he'd been mulling over for the past few days. “That's a job for politicians. Leaders. Visionaries, like Markus. I know the reason I was chosen for the delegation was primarily that I have specialized programming that will help me protect the others. Androids programmed for housekeeping or medical care will not be prepared for potential snipers, after all.”

Hank swirled the last of his coffee around his cup. “But you're not just a security android, either. You worried about what you'll do after you get back?”

“I was designed to be a detective,” Connor said quietly, “and I know I'm not bound by my design anymore, but....”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

Connor searched himself, but all he found was a mess of 1's and 0's, an endless labyrinth of code that led nowhere. “I...I don't know.”

“Okay. I know you haven't exactly been alive that long, but when were you the happiest? What were you doing? Where were you?” Hank raised his mug to drain it.

It took approximately 0.000001 seconds to retrieve the memory. “In the Eden Club.”

Hank choked on his coffee. Connor immediately got to his feet and slapped his hand against Hank's back with carefully modulated force to dislodge anything caught in his windpipe.

When he had control over his breathing again, Hank looked up at Connor with streaming eyes. “The Eden Club? Seriously?”

“Yes,” Connor said, trying to understand such an emotional reaction to his words. “Investigating the scene of the crime...tracking down the deviants...both of our skills complementing each other...it was quite...fulfilling.”

Hank gave him a look Connor interpreted as 'unimpressed.' “And the half-naked androids pole-dancing right in front of you had nothing to do with it.”

The clues clicked together in Connor's mind, and he finally understood. “Physical attraction and sexual acts were not part of my programming, Hank,” he said, taking his seat again. “Such things would distract me from my mission. Though I suppose I could learn....”

“Never mind,” Hank said sharply, holding up a hand to stop him. “Forget I asked. So what you're saying is you like murder investigations.”

“It's what I was made for, and it's where my skills lie,” Connor said, nodding. “But...more than that...I enjoyed investigating them with a partner. I've carried out investigations on my own, but...they were always more satisfactory when I was with you.”

Connor wasn't sure he understood the expression on Hank's face. He looked...pleased and displeased at the same time. Perhaps he was trying to pretend he didn't have a small smile on his face, though it was plain to see. Human emotions could be very complicated sometimes.

“I think...I would like to continue investigating crimes,” Connor said slowly. “And...I would like to be your partner.”

Hank grunted. “Well, I doubt Detroit PD would even look at your resume, after everything that's happened. Maybe androids like you will take over all our jobs eventually, but it ain't gonna happen anytime soon.”

“Yes.” Connor nodded, mind whirring away at the problem. “Overall, the tide of public opinion has been turning in favor of androids in light of our non-violent protest...but there are still many people who fear or even hate androids.”

“Some of them might change their minds,” Hank said quietly.

Connor's mental circuits brought up a memory dated only a few days ago. The day he'd infiltrated CyberLife, and Hank had recognized him for who he was, even alongside a non-deviant Connor who looked identical to him. The man who hated androids, looking into his eyes and seeing the humanity there.

“Some won't,” Connor said. “I fear the rate of crimes against androids will rise exponentially, particularly before laws are put in place and enforced.”

Hank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Even though he didn't have an LED indicating his mind processing what Connor had said, he thought he could almost see Hank's thoughts ticking away behind his eyes. “Sounds like you folks need law enforcement of your own.”

“Indeed.” Their eyes met, and Connor smiled. He could be wrong, but he thought perhaps their thoughts ran along the same lines. “Perhaps that's where my future lies.”

Hank nodded, acting nonchalant though another wry smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds like a good place to start. But you know...you're a prototype. There aren't a whole lot of other Connors out there, and who's to say they'd all want to be detectives too, when you give them that choice? So it's going to take you a while to get this android police force off the ground.”

“And in the meantime,” Connor finished for him, “I'll need some help to manage the caseload.”

Hank's half-smile turned into a full grin. “You wouldn't happen to be accepting job applications from humans, would you?”

“You know, Hank, I just might.”

[perseverantdt]

16 & 17 for the writer ask?

16: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

I don't actually own that many books, nor do I have any place to borrow books from. The only books I have are textbooks, which don't really need bookmarks. As such, I don't really use bookmarks. However, I do use some sort of mark to keep a book from flipping to a different page when I go away. I just mostly use whatever I can find lying around. It's been a long time since I've last read a book, but the weirdest thing I can remember using as a bookmark was a mug. I don't recall if it was empty or not.

17: Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Note: Parts in italics indicate out-of-universe explanations.

In Ethereal Dreams, all living creatures have a soul, regardless of whether they're natural or constructed. This soul is made up of a magical "casing" and the energy inside it. This energy stabilizes the creature's body, whether it be physical or magical. If, somehow, the soul or its magical energy were to be completely removed, the body would slowly weaken until the soul manages to recover its strength.

While a soul can never be split into parts, it can be damaged or weakened. However, the creature's body normally protects its soul from being damaged by physical or magical attacks. Damaged souls slowly heal themselves. How fast this healing occurs depends on the abundance of ambient magic in the realm where it is. A damaged soul will have a weaker ability to cast magic, as magic casting draws on the magical energy of the soul. However, if the damage to the soul is severe enough, its properties may change once it gets healed, to the point where one can argue that the healed soul is no longer the original.

Through the use of certain magical spells, a soul can be made vulnerable to direct manipulation. A mage with good-enough experience can alter the properties of an exposed soul, but this isn't the main danger of having an exposed soul. Rather, an exposed soul is vulnerable to having its magical energy being absorbed. This concept originally wasn't in this story, but the idea that spawned Ethereal Dreams kinda called for it, and I have a system of this in a different story I've been looking to write. When someone absorbs another soul's magical energy, the absorber's magical capability gets strengthened. A soul does not have to be outside its body to be exposed to manipulation, but souls outside of their bodies are much more susceptible.

If the situation's circumstances aligns just right, two creatures can fuse their souls together into a singular entity. The resulting entity will take on an appearance that resembles both of them, though it will look more like the creature with the stronger magical capability. They will have shared control of the body, but only one of them can control the body at any given time. The fused soul will retain magical properties from both souls. Specifically, they will be able to cast the realm-amplified magic of either soul. There is no recorded instance only one unknown instance of a soul fusion and as such, this is a completely unknown topic to the entire world of the story. That only instance is one of the main characters in the story, and even that was by complete accident.

This is the idea that really got me excited on writing Ethereal Dreams. It started as a what-if on Lilak Rain's Slumbertale AU but I didn't want to write that because I don't think I would be able to make a proper characterization of their characters, especially when the story is quite new. However, I didn't want to abandon the idea. After a long time of worldbuilding, a couple of storyline changes, and just overall having a hard time turning the idea into a story, here I am, with a great world to write my story on. I took quite a few concepts and ideas from various other WIPs of mine, but I think they work quite well.

[officersnickers]

Left Is Alright

or: Handedness in The Promised Neverland 👈👉

Apparently I‘ve got too much time on my hands (hah!), and while re-reading the manga I made several discoveries about handedness I wanted to share with you.

First of all, about 90-95 % of the human population are right hand dominant, which is mirrored in The Promised Neverland with a large majority of the characters being right-handed.

Now it gets (more) interesting – the few left-handed characters we met throughout the story. First and most prominent of them all would be Norman; using his preferred hand was even a major plot point later one when he noticed someone in Lambda had to take the same daily tests as him, but left the pen on the right side of the pad, instead of Norman, who left it one the, well, left side.

Now back to other left-handed characters – for example, Smee. Although we can‘t clearly see him using his left hand while writing in the manga, the anime did so:

(sorry for the low quality😑) and with this, we can conclude Smee‘s left-handed.

Another character that is presumably being left-handed is James Ratri aka William Minerva; the way he wears his watch on his right wrist leads me to this conclusion, since you‘re usually wearing your watch on your non-preferred hand.

Additionally, in the inside cover of Volume 2, we were able to see William Minerva write with his left hand too:

Also adding Adam here, since we see him (once) stitching up his teddy bear with his left hand:

(Isn’t it impressive how a big guy like Adam can now handle fragile objects like needles and is also able to sew after only two years? 🧸❤️)

Which further makes me believe Norman and Adam are clones (in one way or another), maybe even from the same source… the same left-handed source, even?! (looking at you James >>)

It‘s also stated on several sites Leslie‘s left-handed, but… I couldn‘t find any evidence for that claim? As seen in the anime, he‘s playing the mandoline as a right-handed person would do, so I actually doubt he is left-handed (of course if he‘s actually left-handed and we learned about that in the novels, I‘ll take it all back, but it‘s quite complicated to find a source for this).

Last, but not least – Lucas! Because, well, there are no other options anymore than using his left hand (thanks, Leuvis). 

I think it‘s safe to say Lucas wasn‘t left-handed before, but having to rely on his only hand left (hah! unintended pun again!) he counts as left-hander, too.

By now you may ask „But Snickers, that‘s no hot tea and not interesting at all!“ and I‘ll answer you proudly „yes, I know, but now we get to what, or better, who I truly wanted to highlight“. 😅

Yes, exactly.

Yuugo.

He‘s nowhere stated as being left-handed, presumably because he‘s seen on various occasions using his right hand, handling guns or doing other tasks.

But that‘s not how he‘s introduced, because:

Threatening the children with a knife, merely scratching Emma‘s cheek with a bullet as intended, carrying his gun on his left side all leads me to one conclusion: Yuugo‘s ambidextrous. He can use both hands as quite as good, an attribute only around 1% of world’s population shares, which means it’s even rarer than being left-handed!

The question remains, why did Yuugo foremost used his left hand during his introduction arc and later on his right hand? It’s speculation by my side, but I would blame it on this:

Yuugo is a sentimental man who cares a lot about others, even if he can’t quite show his feelings properly most of the time. Still feeling guilty about what happened to his family and especially Lucas, I could imagine he didn’t wanted to hurt the children with the hand that carried a part of Lucas with him, no matter how much he resented the Grace Field-escapees. As soon as Yuugo accepted he’s now the adoptive father of 15 very noisy, very annoying but also very his children (more or less🤔), he started using his right hand with the glove way more often, even to the point you could guess he’s right-handed and nothing else.

In conclusion: We got several left-handed characters in The Promised Neverland, but only one (know) being ambidextrous, Yuugo.

Or maybe I’m just pouring too many thoughts into this topic, who knows?

[hyliacursed]

❛ you have orders to follow , don't you , knight ? ❜ hands cinching their waist , hip cocked to one side ⸻ it's taking every ounce of their willpower not to dramatically sigh for the added effect : they're saving their breath for the descent down their makeshift rope , skillfully crafted from rito-made bedsheets , and not even hyIia's formidable chosen one can get in the way of their grand escape . ❛ do not leave your post by the princess's bedroom door no matter what , ❜ they parrot with a roll of their eyes . ❛ the king said nothing about following me outside . ❜

if this is how king rhoam rewards those brave enough to embark on a quest for knowledge , then so be it . zeIda won't stop until they come to a ground-breaking discovery that will change the trajectory of their ill fates forever ⸻ that'll show him . you can't ground science .

❛ we’re a team , aren’t we ? teams stick together ... even when the leader is being a prick , ❜ signed link @gloryseized .

the princess stills . did he just ...?

❛ for your sake , i'm going to pretend that you didn't just call my father that . ❜ despite this , zeIda can barely stifle the amused lilt in their voice ⸻ her guard said nothing she wasn't already thinking , after all . [ though you will never admit it , something buried deep in your chest gently unfurls ⸻ a blossoming empathy as you realize how mind - numbingly boring this week must have been for him , stationed outside your chambers all night long . you wouldn't wish any kind of gripping listlessness on even your worst enemy . ] a long beat passes before they offer one small concession ; not a request , but an order : ❛ but if what you say is true , then you're coming with me . ❜

[genderqueer-karma]

THE HANDWRITING POST !!! (please excuse my chicken scratch physics notes… the things we do to stay awake in class)

first, the signatures:

(basically, i think he signs his name one of three ways: full name with the asymmetrical “m”, full surname with first initial, and initials only. legible, but slightly messy)

***

second: manuscript + cursive:

(the manuscript/print was more for fun than anything, as i hc that he almost exclusively writes in barely legible cursive. i imagine he’s like me in the sense that he writes fast because he thinks so much, so everything looks all skewed.)

***

fun bonus: kanji! (not really hc anymore, i just wanted to try my hand at it. it’s so many strokes!! i can’t remember stroke order for the life of me…)

[koravelliumavast]

New Chapter!