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cozage · 10 months

Note

Kicks door down: HELLO

I accidentally sent this request when they were closed so sorry abt that. BUT.

Can you do the water healing one where y/n almost (or does. I’m down for angst) dies because they pushed themselves too much? Bonus points if they literally had no other option

Hi friend! This took me a second to get done because WOAH it was angsty!

CW: Reader death bc i love angst (blame supernova not me), marineford spoilers :) Characters: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1

Zoro

Zoro trusted you. He did. But Luffy shouldn’t be as energetic as he is right now, even with your healing. Luffy had gone down three times. And Zoro knew you had healed him twice before you had hit your limit. Zoro had seen you vomiting from the pain before he had to go fight his own battle. He had left you curled up in a ball crying in pain, but alive.

It didn’t make sense how Luffy was so…bouncy. He should be sleeping off the pain and exhaustion from battle, but he wasn’t. So Zoro set off to find you, afraid of what he might find.

There was an urgency to his movement, his pace faster than normal as he made his way to the last place he saw you. But you weren’t there. Instead, he found a trail of blood, leading off into a side hallway.

It was your blood. Zoro wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. Zoro clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst as he rounded the corner. But it was just another blood trail.

He was running as he followed it, weaving around corners and down hallways. He finally came to a door, and the trail ended right in front of it. The doorknob had a dark red liquid on it, but Zoro hardly paid it any mind as he pulled the door open. He found you on the other side, sprawled out on the floor. He dove down to you, looking for any open wound that would need to have pressure applied.

“Please,” he begged. “Wake up.”

He could tell by the amount of blood around you that it was too late to save you. He kneeled next to you and lifted your limp body, trying to get you to sit up. He checked for a pulse or any signs of breathing, but as he expected, there weren’t any. And so he held you, brushing away the hair that was matted on your face and whispered endless apologies. He should’ve found you sooner. You were only dead now because of his mistakes earlier.

He held you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours. Zoro knew he should be crying, but he hasn’t cried in years. He just sat there, softly begging you to wake up, waiting for you to show any signs of life.

When the rest of the crew finds him, he’s as still as a statue. Nami’s wails and Chopper’s movements around your body don’t even faze him. He doesn’t even really hear them. It’s like he’s underwater, just waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Because he can’t survive the cold reality of living alone without you.

Luffy

“Don’t heal me, you won’t…”

Those had been Luffy’s last words to you before he had fallen into unconsciousness from his injuries. He had a vague memory of you giving him a soft kiss and whispering something about the king of the pirates, but Luffy wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not.

Now, as he looked at your broken body, he only felt one emotion.

Rage.

At himself. At you. At the universe, for being so cruel. And at the man in front of him, who took you away.

Everyone thought that your death would immobilize Luffy, in the same way that Ace’s had. But it didn’t. He screamed in rage, and even his own crewmates struggled to stay conscious from the overwhelming power Luffy unleashed.

Luffy had struggled against his foe, but now the fight was over in a moment. It was like a beast came out of him, snarling and destroying everything in its path. The enemy hadn’t even known what had hit him before he was dead. Luffy had a no kill policy, but an eye for an eye seemed more than fair right now.

Only after the enemy was destroyed, did Luffy mourn. He ran to your side, asking Chopper to heal you. He begged the reindeer, pulling out each piece of equipment demanding “Have you tried this?!”

Half of the stuff wouldn’t have helped even if you were alive, but he still begged Chopper to try. And Chopper indulged him, even though the little reindeer was sobbing himself.

When everything was out of the bag, Luffy finally gave in to despair. It was this moment where he went into complete shock, inconsolable at the thought of you truly being gone. He beat on the ground next to you, screaming and sobbing.

“Please! Please come back!” He screamed over and over again, until his voice was gone. Even when his voice was gone, he just sat there and sobbed next to you. The crew sat with him quietly, waiting for him to finish his grieving. They sat with him all day and late into the night, each of them crying in their own way with him.

Sanji

Sanji had only seen this much blood one other time before. On Thriller Bark, when Zoro had taken all of Luffy’s pain. That’s what you had done too: taken all of Luffy’s pain. And Zoro’s pain. And his own. You had taken on all three of their injuries so they could keep fighting.

“Go,” you whispered, laying on the floor. You tried to keep the sobs out of your voice, but Sanji heard them and stayed where he was.

He held your head in his lap, gently stroking your hair. “Does this hurt, my love?”

“Sanji. You need to go fight.” You didn’t want him to see you like this. You knew it was the end.

“I’m not leaving. You’re hurt. You need me.”

“I need you to go do your damn job,” you said. Tears were flowing out of your eyes onto his pants. “I need you to beat these guys and go find the All Blue. And make sure Luffy becomes King of the Pirates. And Zoro-” you struggled to breathe. “Zoro needs to be the greatest swordsman. Promise me?”

“Shhhh. Don’t talk,” he whispered. His voice was so soothing. You could feel your eyes getting heavier with each word. “Save your strength.”

“Sanji,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I promise.” His voice was thick with tears. “Just stay with me. I’m here.”

You felt wet drops hit your head, but you were too tired to turn and see if he was crying. You couldn’t even offer false hope. Words were too hard to form. Perhaps just a short rest would be good for you.

Sanji was too scared to check your pulse, but he knew when you were gone. You just felt different in his arms. He couldn’t explain why.

He sobbed. But he didn’t beg. He knew it was useless. A part of him had been scared of this happening since the very beginning. His father always told him he was cursed. Everything he loved always died. He was foolish to think you’d be the exception. And now he was alone again. It was almost enough to convince him to throw himself into the ocean and join you in the afterlife.

But no, he made a promise. Your dying wish. So he had to do this for you and for his friends. He would protect Luffy, he would find the All Blue, and he’d even help that stupid marimo. Not because he wanted to do it. But because his promise to you was the only thing worth living for now.

Law

When Law came back from the brink of death, he knew it was bad. When he came to his senses, he was laying on the ground, and you were crumpled on top of him. You had saved him again, given his energy back to keep fighting. And now you were in pain because of it.

He could still feel his energy returning to him, slowly now. He cursed, realizing you were still struggling to help him.

“Stop!” he hissed. He shambled you away from him, and you landed in the alleyway across the street with a sickening smack against the ground.

“I told you not to help me!” he screamed at you. “I can fight my own battles!”

A roar came from down the street, and he remembered the reason he was so beat up in the first place. The enemy was closing in again, but with this newfound energy he would finish them off. And then he would deal with you.

The battle was over quickly. It had been close before, but now he had the clear advantage, invigorated with energy from you and with the rage of almost losing.

He walked back to the alley to find you, anger coursing through his veins at what you had done. You had made a promise, and you had always stuck to it. But he still hated it.

“I told you not to help me during battle!” he yelled as he approached you. “I told you not to endanger yourself!”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even move, and that’s when Law realized you were still in the same position you had been when he sent you away. Your chest wasn’t even rising and falling.

Panic spiked his heart rate, and he quickly shambled over to you. He ran a scan over your body. No Life Detected.

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. His knees grew weak, and he collapsed next to you.

“Y/n-ya. Wake up.”

But you were still frozen in place, only a trail of blood running from the corner of your mouth.

“Please,” he begged, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t do this. You promised.”

Your limp body offered no response, and he switched from begging to action. He began CPR, rushing through the events that led to this. You had been alive when he woke up, and the fight had only taken a few minutes. Your body wasn’t rigid, so there was still a possibility he could breathe life back into your lungs.

But he was the Doctor of Death, and no miracles were performed that day. Instead, his crew found him an hour later, still giving you chest compressions. They watched for thirty minutes, before Shachi finally stepped in.

“Captain,” Shachi said standing next to him. “I don’t think-”

“Shut up!” Law barked. He didn’t stop his rhythm. If he could just get your heart to beat on its own for a moment, it would all be okay.

“You can’t leave me,” Law choked out in a sob. “You promised.”

His crew let him continue to try to revive you, even though they all knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Finally, after three hours, he collapsed.

His crew rarely saw him shed a tear, but today he sobbed into your chest with more emotion than he had ever shown. And he was never really the same afterwards, either.

Ace

“I can fix him!” you screamed, running out towards the brothers.

“Like hell,” Marco yelled, grabbing your wrist to hold you back. “It’s too bad. You know that. You can’t save him.”

“I can,” you sobbed. “I have to. I have to!”

You pulled yourself out of Marco’s grip, and dashed towards Luffy.

“Ace…” Luffy breathed out. “You can’t die.”

“He won’t,” you assured him, sitting down next to him. Ace’s wound looked even worse from here, and you could feel bile rising in your mouth. You had to resist the urge to vomit. You had work to do.

“Luffy, stay with me, okay? I need you to be ready to take him to safety.”

You were prepared to die for him. You had been for a while. There was no better way to go than saving the man you loved.

“Dont-” Ace sputtered, coughing up blood.

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “I love you, Ace. Keep living for me, okay?”

Those were fitting last words, and so you pulled out some water from your flask and placed your hands over the hole in his chest. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching you while you did this. You were the last of your kind. Your power would die with you.

The pain came instantly, just as it had for Ace. You could feel your insides shredding apart as you used your power to repair him. His heart, his vital organs, that’s what you chose to focus on. The things he couldn’t live without had to be repaired by you. Marco could do the rest when they were safe.

You could feel Ace fighting you, desperate to get away from your grip, but you held on tight, even as your vision became dark and blurry, even as you felt consciousness beginning to slip away, you would continue healing him until the end.

What was only a few seconds felt like eternity, and Ace felt his body slowly begin to heal. He could breathe again.

“Luffy,” he mumbled. “Get her off of me.”

“Ace. Your wound.” Luffy pulled back to look at Ace. “It’s closing up.”

“She’s dying,” Ace sobbed, trying to push your limp body off of him.

“I’ll be damned,” Akainu said, staring down at your work. “I thought that power was just a myth.”

“Luffy, take her away. Now!” Ace yelled, pushing you towards his little brother.

“A shame her sacrifice will amount to nothing, though,” Akainu said from behind. Ace felt volcanic heat stir up behind him again. Another strike from Akainu was coming, but Ace was paralyzed with grief.

Jinbe jumped in front of Ace and held off the attack. “Ace, my friend. You have been given another chance. You mustn't lose it now!”

Luffy helped Ace to his feet, still staring at his chest where a hole had once been. It wasn’t completely healed, but Ace was moving. That’s all that mattered.

“We can’t leave her,” Ace said, tears flooding out of her eyes. “Luffy, we can’t-”

Ace’s body racked with a fit of coughs, and Luffy stopped. “Ace! Are you okay?! Does it hurt?!”

“We need to go get her,” Ace said, starting to turn back. But Luffy kept propelling him forward.

His crewmates were cheering them on, not realizing what your healing had cost you. “If we get you to the ship, we win! Ace! Come on!”

But Ace kept fighting Luffy, trying to go back for you. He couldn’t leave you like this. You had sacrificed everything and now you were lying there in the dirt under Akainu. It wasn’t fair. This was his fault.

“I’ll get her,” Marco yelled. “Keep going, Ace. You need to go! Pops put everything on the line for you! Don’t waste it now!”

When they finally made it back to the ship, Ace’s eyes scoured the horizon, waiting for Marco to return with you. People were celebrating their victory, but Ace felt like he was going to throw up.

Finally he saw Marco, carrying your too limp body. As Marco landed on the deck, Ace could see tears in his eyes.

“No,” Ace whimpered. “No. No! NO! Marco, fix her!”

Everyone stopped to watch the scene unfold. Even Luffy was at a loss for words.

Marco laid your body down on the deck and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I can’t fix her, Ace. She’s gone.”

“No she’s not! You just didn’t try hard enough!” Ace bent down next to you, grabbing your body and shaking it. “Wake up, Y/N! Wake up! You told me you wouldn’t do this.”

Everyone watched as Ace collapsed against you, violently sobbing into your chest. He slammed his hands against the deck, cursing the world and cursing himself, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear.

Marco waited a few minutes before intervening. “Ace,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to stop.”

“I love you,” Ace sobbed into your chest, beating against the deck. His hands were starting to get bloody from the repetitive punching. “Please stay with me.”

“Ace,” Marco tried again. “If you keep acting like this, your wound will reopen.”

“Let me die, then,” Ace cried.

“Like hell!” Marco yelled, infuriated with his fellow commander. “You will NOT make her sacrifice and everyone else's sacrifice be in vain! I won’t let you!”

“You don’t get it, Marco!” Ace yelled. He tried to stand, and staggered a bit in the process. “She was the only thing worth living for.”

“And now you have to live with the fact that your disobedience killed her,” Marco’s words were harsh, but true. “But you still have to live! Or else you’d be spitting in her face!”

Ace screamed out in rage and charged towards Marco. However, Ace’s injury made him much slower than usual, and Marco ducked beneath the attack and jumped behind him.

Ace felt a small pinch in the back of his neck, and the world started to go dark. “I won’t let you kill yourself. She would never forgive me,” Marco whispered, catching Ace as he lost his footing.

As Ace plunged into darkness, all he wanted was to see you one more time. To apologize for all the trouble he caused.

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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

Text

The Skin I Hate

Astarion wakes up from yet another nightmare but this one brings even more disgusting memories that he is used to.

TW: Mentions of SA, mild self-harm Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The weird perk of being an elf is being conscious when dreaming.

Non-elves are blissed with sleep, letting the dark void consume them for a night. Meanwhile, adult elves have to see their own past and re-live the memories in these few hours of meditation.

When it's good memories, it is a dream. When it's bad, it's a nightmare. And unfortunately for Astarion, his memories only fuel the despair.

"Here you are, boy," he hears his master's disgusting voice. "Such a handsome young elf you are."

Cazador is dead. It's not real. It's yet another nightmare that has come to haunt him. The old vampire was so pathetic he didn't even bother to hunt himself, fearing the only thing he could truly enjoy as an undead. There is nothing to be afraid of. Astarion stabbed him twenty-eight times, slaughtered him like a pig he was.

But nightmares keep coming, and there is nothing Astarion can do to stop them.

"You don't want to do this, but you are still doing it."

Astarion remembers everything. He doesn't remember his past when he could see his reflection or the sun, but his mind has preserved all the memories he wishes to forget.

The desire to peel his skin off. The dirty touches. The never-ending tortures and hunger. Sometimes, Astarion thinks this is the reality and the last two years are just a hallucination, an evil trick. Freedom, safety, a woman to hold. It’s all unreal.

Astarion is still locked in the tomb, isn't he? He is still in the kennel, flayed and beaten. He is still in his master's full power, doing every disgusting thing he orders.

… Astarion opens his eyes. He sees the wooden ceiling above him. He hears birds chirring in the distance - it's late afternoon, warm and sunny. Astarion can't understand where he is; the nightmare still holds a grip on his mind. The undead heart feels like a tombstone in the chest.

There is an urge to hide, run, and return to his master because the longer Astarion is absent, the more painful the tortures will be.

Then, he sees a set of armor, too small for him to wear. A travel sack with food he doesn't need, and a sword he doesn't know how to fight with.

Tav.

The realization resembles a lover's embrace, gentle and strong. It was indeed a nightmare. And this is the reality for Astarion. Freedom. A journey under the starry night sky. Days spent in shelters like this abandoned hut in the middle of nowhere.

And Tav's love.

Her trust, her caress. Her loud laughter at his jokes, her concentrated face when she takes care of her weapon and armor.

Their innocent mockery of each other. "Astarion, what does it say?" she asks, pointing at the board at the tavern. "Tav, I still can't apprehend how you lived up to being an adult without getting reading skills." "Oh, I am sorry I was too busy surviving! Not everyone is born in cities!"

His little brave Tav, whose heart is big enough for them both. His fierce companion who believes in him a hundred times more than he believes in himself. Her imminent faith in good, in people. In the chance, there is a cure for vampirism, in the idea that evil forces will always be defeated.

There was time when he thought Tav was just stupid. It took him a while to realize her faith comes from dark places. She knows the sorrows of this world no less than him, but she chooses to always see the light.

And Astarion chooses to be with her.

“Look what you have done to her”, something dark whispers in his ear. "She has to hide in shadows with you. If it wasn't for you, she could stay in the nearest village and sleep comfortably, but because of you, she has to stay here, in this wretched hole of a place. You are tainted with blood and pain, and you taint her as well."

Astarion tries to shut this voice up. But he can't. His own skin feels disgusting as if covered in acid sweat. His body is dirty. His touches are cursed. After everything he did, after everything done to him, after all these people he slept with, after everything happened to him in Cazador's mansion - he has no right to ruin Tav.

Astarion stands up, trying to shut the voice up. The hut is so small it suffocates him, but he can't go outside; the sun still shines.

"Damn! Gods damn you!" he screams, but the voice sounds hoarse as if he broke it in his sleep.

Maybe he did.

Nails dig into the skin, causing dull pain. Astarion makes a sharp movement, leaving deep pink strains on his left arm. Pain is pleasant and familiar. He keeps scratching the skin as if trying to peel it off.

Blood starts dripping to the floor.

The pain brings temporal bliss, and the sight of his bloodstained hand somehow comforts Astarion. Tears stream down the face - tears of desperation. Of darkness.

"Astarion," he hears a quiet voice. "Please, stop."

He turns his head and sees Tav. She wears her camp clothes, a pair of trousers and a shirt. Her hair is wet. She probably has bathed in the nearest river. Feet are bare and covered in soil. Astarion notices a blade of grass stuck between her toes.

Tav approaches him and makes him sit on the floor. He tries to drop the sleeve to cover the injuries as if it could trick her.

Tav gently touches his neck, avoiding the bite mark. Her touch is thoughtful, kind, and warm. She smells like sunlight. Astarion freezes, staring at the wall, not knowing how to look at her, not knowing what to do.

"What happened?" she finally asks. "I got used to your nightmares, but this is the first time you harm yourself."

"Nothing"

Tav sighs and stands up. For a moment, Astarion thinks she will leave him, but she just kneels at her travel bag and gets a healing ointment. He usually applies it to her after fights with monsters while she jokes, "You should see the other guy!".

The ointment prickles the skin and accelerates vampiric regeneration.

"Tell me," Tav asks.

He shrugs. "There is nothing to tell. Nothing you already don't know, just another nightmare. Tell me how the world looks under the sun."

"Astarion, you are my love and my life. But if you keep pretending everything is good when it's not, I will hit you with something heavy."

"You are so adorable when you try to threaten. Like a hissing kitten."

She laughs, and he can't take his eyes off her smile.

Then, Tav takes his injured hand in hers and caresses the knuckles. She waits for him to answer.

"If you woke to me trying to peel my skin off, would you want to know why?" she seriously asks.

He gulps. Of course, he doesn't need to tell now. Tav won't force him. He can tell her later when he feels more like it. Or never tell. It's his right for privacy. But it means Tav will be more preoccupied than usual, that the next sunrise she won't leave his side, that she will offer him her blood more than usual, more than she can give without complications.

Astarion can't do this to her even though he has a right to do so.

"I feel disgusting," he finally admits.

"What?" she is shocked. "Why?"

"I feel my skin is dirty, and no matter how strong I scrub it, I can't escape this feeling. I have done terrible, loathsome things, and the same things were done to me. Any time I touch you, I feel like I taint you, burden you with my own nightmares."

Tav is silent. Her eyes study his face. Is this remorse in her eyes? Sadness? Anger?

"Astarion. I am going to ask you a question", she finally says, "And you will answer it. You will not try to lie. You will not try to banter. You will tell me the truth. Did he force himself onto you?"

Astarion stares at Tav in disbelief. How can she know? How did she guess?

She touches his cheek, and it causes tears to flow again.

"Yes," he answers shortly and bites his lower lip. "Many times. Before he grew tired of me and sent me to the streets."

Tav doesn't say anything. Instead, she opens her arms and hugs Astarion, pressing his head against her collarbone. He can't see her face, but he knows there are tears on her face as well.

"How did you know?" he finally asks. "Tav … did anything… like that…"

"No, I was never assaulted. But every girl, whether she is an elf or dwarf or a human, a peasant, or a noble - knows such things. We are warned about it from a very young age. Even when it doesn't happen to us, we know someone it happened to. I think I guessed the moment you told me about your past."

"You disgust me," he remembers a cruel voice as if its owner wasn't the one who made Astarion disgusting.

She pulls away and kisses his forehead. "You are more than this. More than your trauma, more than your past. You are brave, smart, kind, even if you don’t want to admit it. I know what you are, what happened to you. It's a part of the deal. But please don't hurt yourself. If you do this, you continue Cazador's work. Because he would have mutilated you. The only thing he could not take away from you was your appearance, your face, your beauty. It was the only thing left from the past self. You can't see the reflection, but at least you know you look the same as 200 years ago. And your master needed it to lure victims. He couldn't take it from you without consequences for himself."

Tav puts her hands on his shoulders and looks at his eyes.

"Sooner or later, he would have found someone new, someone innocent to do your job, and he would have mutilated you. He would have taken the only thing you were left with. Every time you try to harm yourself, every time you hate yourself, you continue his job. I don't fucking want this. You don't fucking need this. The bastard is dead. You killed him. We can't change what happened to you. But it means he can't return either."

Astarion puts his hand on his knees and smiles. "I don't deserve you."

"You do deserve me, and I deserve you. There is no part of your body I find disgusting."

Astarion instinctively covers his bite mark. Tav notices it and gently removes his hand. She looks at the bite mark closely as if studying.

Long ago, they agreed he didn't want his bite mark to be touched, and Tav carefully avoided it. He couldn't know what this scar looked like but was sure it was repulsive.

And then Tav kisses the bite mark.

A shiver goes down Astarion’s spine, there is a forgotten memory of being bitten by a hungry monster who didn't know any better than to attack a weak, dying person.

There was a time when Astarion prayed to the gods to save him. Every divine creature he remembered – Lathander, Loviatar, Selune, Tyr, Savras – and a hundred more. No one answered. But what if someone did? He just needs to figure out which one is responsible for making sure Tav is born and survives through childhood, and who put her right in front of the Nauthiloid. When he does, he will become a man of this god.

Then Tav pulls away and looks at the entrance to the hut. "It's still hours till sunset. Is there something I can do to make you feel better?"

You don't need to do anything – the sole presence is enough.

"Сould you give me the book from my bag?"

Tav smiles and opens his travel bag. "There are two books"

"The green one"

"They are both green!" she pointed at the volumes, the cover of the first one was the color of wet leaves, and the other resembled a malachite.

"The one you like more."

Tav hesitates, looking at the covers, and then chooses the second one. When she sits beside him, Astarion wraps his hand around her waist.

"What does it say?" she asks.

"The History of the Western Heartlands," he opens the first page. "But you are going to read it yourself. I don't want you to be dependent on my reading skills."

"Oh", she pouts. "I knew you don't like reading to me!"

"I like reading to you," he says, "And I want to teach you to do the same. Come on, it's not difficult. I need to concentrate on something anyway, and teaching an adult person to read will definitely be a complicated task. I will read, and you will follow the text with your eyes, then I will ask you to repeat what I said. Deal?"

Astarion presses his finger at the first line. "The history of the Western Heartlands is a history of endless battles and destroyed empires.-"

Tav repeats after him. It takes them a few hours just to make it through the first page. He sees her anger when she can't remember a specific letter and almost childish delight when she manages to read the word without his help.

When the sun finally sets, they pack their bags. Astairon helps Tav to put her armor on, tightening the belts, and they leave together into the night.

"You do feel better, don't you?" she asks, walking a few steps ahead of him.

Astarion concentrates on his feelings. The disgust and fear feel like a distant nightmare, something he can easily brush off. Even the bite mark Tav touched so gently stopped causing so much mental pain.

"Yes. I feel great, my love."

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dasketcherz · 4 months

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do you have any dad michael son gregory headcanons because your art for them is genuinely so so cool like omg… it all looks so good they are so cute in your style

OH MY GOD I'M GLAD YOU ASKED HOLLUP [PULLS UP MY DAD MIKE/SON GREG HC LIST]

greg absolutely secretly looks up to mike's skill set as an artist. he loves to watch him doodle, mike is the type who'd feel conscious when someone watches him draw but,,, he grew to not mind and got use to greg watchin him draw. he can tell the kid is observing and absorbing what he can learn from simply watching him do art.

^^^ with that in mind, Mike often does catch Greg drawing too, when the lil guy is very proud of his work, he shows it off to him. Mike is very encouraging that he keeps up at it cuz he genuinely thinks the kid is doing great.

^^^ As i established in the previous ask, Greg loves to give art gifts to ppl he cares about. He does the same for Mike, especially in special occasions like father's day, or his birthday and whatnot. Mike displays them either in his room or by the fridge, he is very proud of his son's creative efforts!

Mike is not the best cook out there, you can hardly entrust the kitchen to him without him setting it on fire but he tries his best to do a decent job at making pulled pork recipes ever since he found out it's Greg's favorite.

Greg loves to collect all sorts of cute and silly plushies, anytime he spots any when they stroll across a shop or smth he's so ready to persuade Mike to let em buy it for him. It doesnt take a lot of effort to really, all he has to do is stare up at mike with puppy eyes and Mike knows the drill, he sighs and then painfully pulls out his wallet every time. it's worth it tho, it's for the kid

It's always like a russian roulette who wakes up earlier than who in the morning. Sometimes its Mike, sometimes its Greg. Mike usually preps breakfast, well...as best as he could perform the basics. He's shown the ropes to Greg at some point cuz even tho Greg's a kid, Mike acknowledges that he's capable. Greg's a fast learner, if he does a specific task so often enough, he gets good at it eventually. Its a lil funny tho cuz Greg almost does breakfast better than Mike at times. Greg has some fun making Mike's morning coffee for him, he appreciates it a lot. He thinks it's really sweet, he always affectionately ruffle Greg's morning bed hair as a gesture of thanks.

They have a swear jar in the household. No further elaboration needed i think.

Mike drives a motorcycle bike that used to be owned by his mom. Every time he tells Greg he's headin off somewhere for a quick errand, the lil guy insist he wanna come along solely cuz he wanna ride the bike as well. He enjoys being on the bike, he thinks its hella cool and he feels like flyin, he has to always promise Mike he'll behave just so he lets him come too.

They absolutely love movie nights as a hang out time. They both love watching movies, they just have a good time checkin out any film that peaks their interest. Having fun lil discussion bout it during or after watching and all that. Mike is amused when Greg has a lot to say, he just lets the lil guy share his thoughts bout it.

Whenever Mike gets a call that Greg got into another fight at school and it's often cuz other kid bullies got in Greg's nerve [especially if it's them insulting his guardian to his face] or cuz he tried to defend other kids from being bullied, Mike is so ready to throw hands with said kid bully's parents to defend Greg back. Theyre always on each other's side first and foremost.

When one of them catch the other still up in the middle of the night, the instant thought they have is "cant sleep?" presumably cuz the other most likely had another nightmare. It has happened so frequent, they just came to understand that tryin to pass the time doin other things is often the other best thing they can do to doze back to sleep. They had done plenty of things to pass the time at moments like it : be it watch another movie, draw together, just stargaze outside by the front porch etc etc. They appreciate the other for keepin them company. They've grown to try makin sure they never feel so alone anymore the best they can, cuz they arent anymore when they have each other.

#daske ask #dad mike/son greg hcs #aaaaaa theyre everything to meeeee #also thank you so much!!#i'm very very happy to hear you enjoy my art of them as father and son!!#they own my heart and soul...#jasminetea1234

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badcaseofcasey · 1 year

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a/n: we’ve made it to the end, folks! I have had so much fun posting this and seeing all of your reactions as I went, so thanks for coming along on this ride with me! I’ll be posting the full fic to AO3 soon, so keep an eye out for that. Without further ado, the final installment (for now…)!

The next thing Steve knew, he was blinking back against the light, the room filled with a warm late morning sun. He and Eddie had gravitated towards each other during the night and he woke up with his arm slung low across Eddie’s hips. They were still facing each other so Steve could see Eddie’s peaceful expression as he slept.

Steve let out a huge sigh of relief when he felt Eddie’s breath moving his arm up and down where it rested. According to the clock on the nightstand, Steve had gotten a miraculous six hours of sleep without waking up from a nightmare or tossing and turning over worries about whether or not everyone was safe. Steve knew it was likely because the person he worried about the most had been lying safely next to him.

The other benefit to sharing a bed with Eddie was that he got to watch as the other man slowly woke, eyes scrunching up to keep out as much of the light as possible, to stay in his cocoon of sleep as long as he could. It was adorable, Steve didn’t mind admitting it, and he couldn’t help the smile across his features either.

“You see something you like?” Eddie asked, voice rough with sleep. “Just saying, it’s been a while since I’ve woken up to a pretty boy in my bed looking at me like that.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Take me out to dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie’s eyes slowly opened and Steve noticed, not for the first time, that they were the color of molten chocolate when the light hit them just right.

“Morning,” Steve said. “How do you feel?”

“Like a bunch of interdimensional hell beasts used me as a chew toy,” he responded. “But I feel less like that than I did yesterday, so I’m going to count it as a win.”

“Good,” Steve said.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, soaking in the warmth of the sun streaming in through the windows and of each other’s body in the bed next to them. Eventually, Eddie sighed and held his eyes open.

“I think I promised you a conversation,” Eddie began.

“That you did,” Steve said, steeling himself.

“I just want to know… What does all this mean to you?” Eddie asked. “Because for a long time, I had this idea in my head of what would happen when I found my soulmate again, but then we did see each other and it was… not like that. But recently, things have been different and I know you and I both aren’t the same kids we were at the park, or even the ones we were in high school. So.”

“So,” Steve agreed. “I see why you’d want to talk about that.”

“And I grew up with this image of my soulmate as this dragon slayer, the person who could battle away anything that was bothering me and make it all okay again. And not two weeks ago I watched you do literally that - with demobats instead of dragons, but still.”

Steve laughed slightly. He was suddenly self-conscious about where his arm rested on Eddie’s hip, but when he tried to pull it back, Eddie just scooted closer to keep Steve’s hand where it was. Eddie’s arm was steadfastly around Steve’s shoulders as it had been when they’d fallen asleep.

“And, to put it all out on the table,” Eddie continued, “because I literally almost died and that puts things in perspective like no other, let me tell you, and because I’m sick of not saying it anymore - I’ve kind of been falling steadily head over heels in love with you since I saw you kill a demobat with your teeth, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He wasn’t quite sure he had heard Eddie correctly. After everything he’d done to basically reject Eddie over the years, he hadn’t dreamed that Eddie could really love him. And yet, here Eddie was, admitting it out loud and without shame that he didn’t just love Steve, but that he was in love with him. And wasn’t that a miracle, in and of itself.

But Steve must have been processing in silence too long, because it was Eddie’s turn to try and pull away, muttering about how he didn’t expect anything, and how he knew that there were such a thing as platonic soulmates, and it was okay if Steve didn’t feel the same way - and that just wouldn’t do.

Steve used the hand on Eddie’s hip to keep him still and brought his other one up to cup Eddie’s cheek where it rested against the pillow and angle his face so that Steve could press their lips together in a sweet, but sure kiss.

Eddie sucked in a breath as soon as their lips touched and Steve could sense his surprise even before he pulled back to look at him.

“I’ve already got the one platonic soulmate,” Steve said. “And honestly, she’s kind of a handful. Not sure I could handle another.”

Eddie looked at Steve like he was a wondrous thing and huffed out a laugh. “Thank god. Because I was talking a big game about being fine with whatever you were ready for, but I think it honestly would have killed me if you had wanted to keep things friendly.”

“Definitely not,” Steve smiled before leaning in to kiss Eddie again, this time angling his body a bit more on top of Eddie’s so Eddie’s head could rest on the pillow.

They stayed like that for hours, swapping gentle kisses - and some not so gentle - and basking in the glow of being together and on the same page for the first time since they were kids in a park fighting dragons.

Steve had nearly stopped in his tracks when he pushed Eddie’s shirt up to feel the warm, still-healing skin and saw his own handwriting snaking along Eddie’s rib cage. Eddie had been right - there were a few letters missing and a few others stretched into scar tissue, but they were still perfect to Steve, and it felt like a punch to the gut to see them there for the first time, proof that Steve hadn’t lost Eddie after all.

Eventually, they would leave the safety and stillness of their bed to start their day, running into Wayne in the kitchen who gave them a knowing look when they arrived together from the downstairs bedroom. They would find their way around each other, adjusting when needed to fit the other into their respective lives. Eddie never did move out of Steve’s place, even when he was fully-healed, not until they all moved out - Wayne to his new trailer, furnished by a shady wing of the US government, Eddie and Steve to their first apartment together.

And though the rest of the dragons they would face were of the metaphorical kind rather than the interdimensional hell beast variety, they would always face them together.

taglist: @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragon @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling @rosered93 @newtstabber @void-o-chaos @thegingerrapunzel @baron-zemo-trash @katireads @child-of-cthulhu @the-s-is-silent @i-must-potato @hellomynameismoo @lovelylilbadone @theotalksalot @lydi-cyan @background-noise-headache @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @slitherynchiken @grapefruitgalaxy @bookbinderbitch @luthienstormblessed @blues-tunes @murdblurdock @grtwdsmwhr @xpaperheartso

#my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au #that’s all folks!

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crazyfandomluver · 30 days

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I present my Posally aus and headcannons. Enjoy =D

Sally going to Olympus, or going to someplace where both Zeus and Poseidon are present in the same place, and the two brothers get into an argument. It goes live on HephaestusTV, for the channel ‘Two idiots attempt to insult each other’(The name is a work in progress). Sally gets tired after some time of it, grabs Poseidon by the ear in the middle of the argument, right when they’re at each other’s throats, and drags him away, and he does nothing to stop her. The other gods are beyond shocked and confused at how much Sally has the most powerful god wrapped around her finger.

“Who’s Sally Jackson???”

“Just the most powerful woman in the world who also happens to be a mortal.”

Sally showing Poseidon all the mortal things, like restaurants, dancing, parties, movies, making food, etc. Poseidon spends most of his time in the ocean, and he’s surprised and new to all of this. He’s a little self conscious about it, but he allows Sally to show him everything, and he makes mistakes pretty much every time. But he doesn’t get frustrated too often, because he has a love of his life, soothing him and urging him to try again.

Poseidon is sleeping(for/with Sally because gods don’t need sleep) and suddenly wakes up from a nightmare from past trauma about being eaten by his father. He immediately tries to act tough. Sally assures him that she is not his family, and he doesn’t need to hide his himself from her. She pulls him into a tender hug and Poseidon lets himself cry/be weak in front of her

“Gods don’t get therapy, Percy. The truth is that there’s a lot of screwed up things happening in their lifetime and they’re just expected to move on and forget about it without help. But as you know, sometimes it can be hard to get away from trauma.” “Even for the gods?”

“Even for gods.”

Poseidon realizing he’s in desperately in love as he watches Sally light up into someone for littering and leaving their trash all over the beach. As a king whose subjects are being killed by plastic, whose ichor is laced with oil due to his form representing the state of his domain, he appreciates seeing someone who protects the sea when he cannot

Sally loved to steal Poseidons shirt. He has like, only one or two, and Sally often steals them all. So he tried stealing one of Sally’s shirts, and it was too small on him. He realized this too late and he’s trying to take it off without breaking it. This is when Sally comes in the room, who promptly starts laughing her head off. Poseidon turns red and eventually realizes (because he’s a himbo and we love him for it) that he can just teleport away to a different part of the room, and he does, and the shirt falls to the floor. He waits for her to stop laughing, and just stands there, shirtless, tapping his foot every now and again, looking like a red tomato with a pout. She looks up after gaining control of herself for a moment, and sees his face, then immediately breaks into another fit, knowing that she was the only few who he’d let laugh at him like this

“…. You done?”

“… No🤣”

Percy is a pet dog that Sally got for her and Poseidon who Poseidon makes immortal. There is no forbidden child, Poseidon doesn’t have to leave because he can split his conscience without others noticing, and also there’s no rules against having relationships, just the kids. They live happily together because is that too much to ask for? (At least until Sally dies if she still decides to not join him. But I think she would in this au)

Poseidon comes to visit Sally every now and again when Percy is at school or at camp. They’ll watch movies together, cuddled up on the coach, with Sally already having seen most of them, but willing to watch them again, and with Poseidon enthralled and entertained by all the shows he hasn’t seen yet. He died on the inside when he saw Disney’s’ Hercules.

“Poseidon? What’s wrong?”

“… literally EVERYTHING is backwards…”

Poseidon taught Sally how to defend herself, even sometimes letting her use his trident since as a mortal, she can’t unleash the power within it.

~*~fin~*~ @posallys

#sally x poseidon #poseidon pjo #poseidon #pjo poseidon #sally jackson #pjo tv show #pjo series #sally Jackson x Poseidon #poseidon x sally #sallidon

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temptingfatetakingnames · 2 months

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The Wings and the Roots Part 2

AO3 / Part 1

1986 Hawkins

Vecna was dead. The world was saved. Again. Steve wished it would just stay saved. He didn’t know if he could do it again. It had been too close this time. Too close to losing. Too close to losing everything. And Steve had failed. The fact that he was constantly moving between two hospital rooms meant that he had failed so spectacularly he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself. Max and Eddie were both in comas, their bodies bloody and broken. The doctors didn’t have good news. Weren’t sure if they were ever going to wake up. El kept trying to find them in their dark unconsciousness but every time she came back, nose bleeding, shaking her head, they all lost a little more hope.

Steve was currently in Eddie’s room. It was dark and the only sounds were Wayne’s soft snoring and the beeping of life support machines. It had been three weeks since Vecna was defeated and El had closed off the Upside Down for good. Hopper was back. Quiet and haunted. He had enough weight in Hawkins to clear Eddie of the murder charges after they had explained the situation to him. The cops were no longer after Eddie, but the court of public opinion was still very much against him, even as he was lying in a coma fighting for his life. Steve let out a deep groan as he stretched out gently in the hospital chair, conscious of his own healing injuries. He was tired of small-town small mindedness.

Wayne shuffled in the chair on the opposite side of the room and jolted upright into wakefulness.

“Any changes?” Wayne asked.

“No,” Steve yawned. “The nurse came by a little while ago and checked his vitals. No change.”

Wayne was a quiet man. Steve had been terrified of him at first, but they had learned how to move around each other in the small space of Eddie’s hospital room. Steve often wondered what it would be like to have someone care about him that much. Thought of his parents. Thought of Joyce and Hopper. He shook his head; it wasn’t the same. He could take care of himself anyway, he always had.

Wayne sighed and rubbed his hands into his eyes so hard he must have seen stars. Even though he had just woken up it looked like he hadn’t slept in years. It was the kind of exhaustion that came from more than a lack of sleep. He had grieved for Eddie, thinking he was dead. Steve couldn’t imagine what he had felt when he found out Eddie was alive but in a coma the doctors weren’t sure he would ever wake up from.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered. To Wayne and to Eddie.

“Stop apologizin’ kid,” Wayne grumbled. “You did what you could. More than what most woulda done.”

It hadn’t been enough. Eddie’s blood and Dustin’s screams were now embedded in the horror that had become his dreams. His nightmares. Right beside dark tunnels and Russian soldiers and Demogorgons. Right beside backyard pools and dark lakes and bullshit. Right beside Mind Flayers and sharp teeth and tails wrapped around his neck. Steve needed to get out of the room.

“Gunna take a walk and grab some coffee. You want one?” Steve asked.

Wayne nodded as he settled back into his chair, eyes on Eddie.

Stepping to the door Steve said the only thing he could. “He’s going to wake up, Wayne.” He had to. Steve didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t.

He went to check on Max before heading to the cafeteria. She was in the room next door; Dr. Owens had pulled some strings to get them a private section of the hospital. Max looked even worse than Eddie. Her arms and legs were in casts and thick gauze covered her eyes. Steve walked up to the bed and gently touched the fingers that were sticking out of her casts.

“Hey Max,” he said quietly. “Just got back from visiting Eddie. He looks good. Not as good as you though, kiddo. Will and El are coming to visit this morning and I’m sure Lucas will be by soon too. We’re all waiting for you.”

Susan had visited yesterday so she probably wouldn’t be back for a few days. Steve sat in the chair that was pulled up close to the bed. He talked to her about how everyone was doing, trying to stick to the good things. He told her about Hawkins and how the reconstruction was going. He talked to her about the weather and how terrible the hospital food was. Reminded her that she had that to look forward to when she woke up.

“Rest up Max, see you soon.”

Steve left the room and walked the quiet hospital hallways aimlessly. He would need to go home soon. He needed to shower and change his clothes. He should probably check in with Family Video too. It had closed after the ‘earthquake,’ but with things more settled now it might be opening again soon. Steve grabbed two cups of coffee and headed back up to Eddie’s room.

Another week passed in much the same way. Steve spent his days working at Family Video or volunteering at the school and his nights in hospital chairs. He had made a tentative friendship with Wayne; they didn’t speak much but the silence was comfortable. He made sure to talk to Eddie and Max as much as possible, mostly just senseless chatter. Today was Saturday and the kids were all visiting. Their voices and laughter filled the rooms, trying their best to be lighthearted and hopeful. Lucas, Erica and El were sitting with Max while Dustin, Mike and Will sat with Eddie.

“The better horror movie is obviously The Fly, Mike. It’s disturbing and gross, how could you not be horrified?” Dustin threw his hands up in the air.

“It being disturbing and gross does not make it the better horror movie! Aliens clearly has more classic horror movie tropes.” Mike argued back.

“Aliens is an action movie!”

“Action/horror, and the horror parts are better than The Fly’s.”

“Steve,” Dustin whined, “you work at Family Video. Which is the better horror movie?”

Steve hadn’t really been paying attention. Will had been quietly watching the exchange between his two friends, seemingly content to listen and not weigh in.

“I have no idea. Get Will to settle the argument.” Steve shrugged.

Both sets of eyes immediately turned to Will, who started glancing wide eyed between them.

“Well, if I had to pick the best horror movie, I would pick The Fly. Though I think Aliens is the better movie in general,” Will said quietly.

“Ha!” Dustin yelled, “I win!”

Mike shot Will a betrayed look as Dustin beamed in victory. Steve couldn’t help but smile fondly at them all.

A soft tap at the door drew their attention. El stood in the doorframe, she was wearing colourful clothes and her hair had started growing back.

“I am ready to try again,” she said.

Every time she went in search of Max and Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the burning hope in his chest. But every time she failed it felt like something inside of him died. The mood in the room immediately sobered. El settled cross legged on the floor beside the hospital bed and tied a cloth around her eyes.

“Quiet. Please,” she whispered.

Time seemed to slow as they watched her, silently watching for any sign that it was working. Steve slipped from the room, wanting to check on Max. Lucas and Erica were holding her hands. Lucas nodded at Steve, who tipped his head back. Max was in good company, so he returned to the other room. He hated waiting. Hated feeling useless, but this wasn’t a battle he could fight with a nail bat. It was up to El. And Max and Eddie. He forced himself to stand still in the corner, even though all he wanted to do was pace. The minutes kept ticking by and Steve couldn’t look anywhere but at Eddie’s face.

Steve had known Eddie Munson for years before The Upside Down had thrown them together in a closer capacity than either of them could have expected. But knowing about someone and actually knowing them were terrifyingly different things. And Steve was surprised by how comfortable he felt in Eddie’s company. He liked hanging out with him. Was looking forward to doing it more without the threat of death and world annihilation hanging over them. But in order to do that, Eddie needed to wake the fuck up.

Once again Steve couldn’t help but wish he had been a better person in high school. Wondered how things could have been if he had been different. Steve would make it up to him if Eddie let him. There was so much he wanted to say. He needed to tell him how much he admired him for being so unapologetically himself. He needed to tell him how brave he was for keeping up with them through The Upside Down even though he must have been terrified. He needed to thank him for distracting the bats and giving them a chance at Vecna, for protecting Dustin.

Please find them. Please find them. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

It could have been minutes or hours before El’s nose started bleeding. She took the cloth away from her eyes and smiled.

“I found them. They were far away. Hiding. Resting. They should wake up soon.”

El had found them. She found them! The relief was so overwhelming Steve felt his eyes well up with tears. He choked back the emotion as Dustin threw himself at him, gripping him tight. Mike went to check on El, helping her into a chair as Will ran to tell Lucas and Erica that El had succeeded. Max was going to wake up. Eddie was going to wake up. A huge weight lifted off Steve’s chest, they were all going to be okay. They had won!

---

Eddie was alive. That was…unexpected.

His thoughts felt heavy, sedated. Something was weighing down his hands as he went to move them to his face. Looking down, he found a tanned hand grasping his tightly. Steve Harrington was sleeping on a chair pushed up close to his bed. His head was tilted sideways onto his shoulder, his mouth slightly agape, hair falling into his face. He was holding Eddie’s hand. He looked exhausted. He looked beautiful. Steve Goddamn Harrington. Good dude and demon slayer… Who the fuck knew?

He blinked heavy eyes and fell back into a dreamless sleep. Harrington had him.

The next time Eddie woke up, he felt more clear-headed. But with the clear headedness came pain. His stomach and throat felt like they were on fire, and he had never been so thirsty.

“Easy, kid,” Wayne said.

“Water,” Eddie rasped.

Wayne grabbed a cup that was sitting on the table beside the bed and brought a straw up to Eddie’s lips. He drank deeply.

“Good to have you back…” Wayne could barely get the words out before he started crying. He pushed his face gently into Eddie’s shoulder. “Thought I lost you.” Eddie reached for Wayne’s back and held him tight.

“Sorry, Wayne,” Eddie whispered.

“What is it with you kids and apologizin’ for things you can’t control?”

Eddie huffed a laugh which sent a sharp spike of pain through his body. Wayne noticed him flinch.

“I’ll get a doctor. They’ll want to see you.” Wayne rushed to the door. Eddie was out again before he made it back.

---

Days later Eddie was starting to feel like himself again. He was still in pain, but they had him on some good drugs that left him feeling floaty and warm and safe. Steve and Robin were visiting. This surprised him. He had assumed that with everything said and done they would all separate back into their own worlds. That hadn’t been the case and he was still trying to find his footing with all these new people in his life who seemed to give a shit about him. Nancy and Jonathan had stopped by the day before and the kids were a constant presence, flitting between his room and Max’s. Even Hopper had come to see him, which had been a terrifying moment. Not only because he was a cop but because he was a dead cop. Eddie had briefly worried that this meant he was dead too and he was in some seriously shitty afterlife. Hopper had apparently pulled some strings and had the murder charges against Eddie dropped, so no more crazy hick manhunt. Yay!

Steve and Robin were catching him up on everything he had missed while he had been in a coma and filling in some holes about their past with The Upside Down. There was… a lot.

“…And that’s how we found a secret Russian base under Starcourt Mall,” Robin said excitedly.

Eddie blinked at her. Of course there were Russians under the Mall.

“It didn’t burn down in a fire either,” Steve added. “Or it didn’t just burn down in a fire. There was also the Mind Flayer – big monster made out of people and a portal machine that Joyce and Hopper destroyed.” He said the end like a question. “I’m a little fuzzy on that last part.”

Eddie needed way more information than these two idiots were providing. He made a mental note to talk to Dustin about it. A monster made out of people? Eddie was glad he had missed that particular foray into Upside Down-ness. Vecna and Demobats were creepy enough for him, thank you.

“Let’s table that for now,” Eddie said.

Robin had been mindlessly ripping pages out of a magazine stolen from the waiting room while they had been talking. She tossed a crumpled ball of paper at the garbage can, narrowly missing Steve and entirely missing the can.

“Were you trying to hit me or the garbage?” Steve asked.

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Eddie quipped from the bed.

Steve shot him an unimpressed look as Robin snickered.

“Alright dinguses, I’m heading home.” She stood and stretched. “Behave you two!”

Robin waved as she left, calling out good-byes to Max and anyone still visiting next door. The two were quiet after she left. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was charged. Eddie wasn’t sure how to talk to Steve. During The Upside Down he had let himself flirt, lean into him, and take strength from his presence. He had let himself act without consequence because he truly thought he wasn’t going to make it. And Steve never reacted in any way that Eddie expected. He never pulled away, never looked at him with disgust, never told him to stop touching him. Steve flirted back. And that was a problem because that gave Eddie hope. But Steve flirted with everyone, probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. His feelings for Steve had been complicated when they were in high school. A stupid crush on a beautiful bully, almost shameful. But this Steve? This Steve was a fierce protector, a badass demon slayer, and he cared about people so damn much. Eddie was fucked around this Steve.

“Can I brush your hair?” Steve asked, suddenly breaking the silence and shocking the hell out of Eddie.

“My hair?” Eddie squeaked.

“Yes, the absolute disaster on your head that looks like it’s never seen a brush in its life?”

“Was all of this some elaborate scheme to get your grabby hands on my gorgeous locks?” Eddie asked playfully.

“You caught me, Munson.” Steve smiled. “I organized a government conspiracy, opened a portal to another dimension, nearly got us and a bunch of fifteen-year-old kids killed, all so I could finally play with your hair.”

“Well, it sounds ridiculous when you say it like that!”

Steve laughed. “You are ridiculous!”

Eddie was ridiculous. He was ridiculous because Steve’s laugh made him feel warm and fuzzy. Or maybe that was the drugs. Steve was still smiling, and it was so pretty Eddie could feel himself blush. Probably not the drugs.

“But seriously, it’s all tangled and really needs to be brushed. I’ll be gentle,” Steve promised.

Eddie thought Steve gently brushing his hair might actually kill him. “If you must,” Eddie said trying to sound like he didn’t care either way.

“I must,” Steve said as he went to grab a hairbrush out of his backpack.

“Didja plan for this, Harrington or do you always have a spare hairbrush on you?”

“Why not both?” Steve replied with a smile.

Steve moved to the side of Eddie’s bed, leaned over, and grabbed a loose fistful of Eddie’s hair. He started working the knots out of the bottom of the strands, slowly working his way up. He was gentle. Eddie stopped breathing. Steve was so close, his chest right in his face. They didn’t speak as Steve worked his way through his hair, and bit by bit Eddie relaxed. Steve had to know what he was doing to him, right? Brushing someone’s hair was not an activity platonic friends did. At least none of the friends Eddie had. He was new to trauma bonding though, so what the hell did he know? When Steve was finished, he put the brush down and started running his fingers through the strands instead. Pulling a little and kneading his scalp. Steve kept running his hands through Eddie’s hair long after it had been untangled, the motions making Eddie feel relaxed and warm. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him this gently or tenderly. He could feel his eyelids start to droop, the motions of Steve’s fingers lulling him into blissful unconsciousness.

“Go to sleep,” Steve whispered.

And Eddie did.

---

Steve was visiting with Max, one of the few occasions that he managed to be alone with her. She didn’t talk much, was sad and angry most days. Lashing out at anyone and everything she could. Lucas really took the brunt of her anger, but the kid was good at being patient. He kept showing up, and that was the best thing he could do right now. Show up and show Max that he was there for her when she was ready.

The doctors were hopeful that with physiotherapy she would be able to walk again but they didn’t think her eyesight would ever fully recover. It was going to be tough; he knew that Max could do it but he wasn’t so sure about Susan. The woman was barely hanging on during the good days, and Steve knew there would be a lot of bad days to come. Steve would help with anything Max needed, he just hoped that she would let him. Stubborn brat always wanted to figure everything out on her own. Steve wasn’t going to let her shut herself away this time. He took her hand gently and she turned her gauze covered eyes in his direction. She stiffened and was about to pull away but stilled when he began talking.

“I know how strong you are Max.” He needed her to understand. “It’s okay if you don’t want anyone to know that you’re weak or scared or hurting right now. You don’t have to tell us. You don’t have to say anything, you can just squeeze my hand. I’ll always be here Max. And if all you have right now is anger, I’ll take that too. I can take anything you can dish out and I’m not going anywhere. There is nothing you can say or do that will make me leave. I promise.”

Steve just kept holding her hand lightly as she gazed unseeing in his direction, thinking about what he had said. After a moment, she lightly squeezed his hand and nothing had ever felt as good. Max was one of his kids. He had failed to protect her from Vecna, but he sure as shit was going to take care of her now.

Steve had always had a complicated relationship to his family. His parents were cold, uncaring and absent. He had taken care of himself for most of his life, trying to fill the empty places inside of himself with girls and parties. It didn’t work. He couldn’t have expected that six kids - in desperate need of adult supervision – would become his family, but here he was. And Steve couldn’t help but feel a little bit grateful to the Upside Down for bringing them together. Babysitter. It was a title he had fought against, but he couldn’t imagine his life any other way now. They were his family. Steve needed them to know that he would always drive them to the arcade if they were bored, would buy them food if they were hungry, would put himself in front of them if anything threatened them, would offer his house and his car and his body if it meant he could keep them safe. He loved them. He loved them all.

He looked at Max. He looked at this girl who had been through literal hell and had survived and all he could feel was pride and affection. They sat quietly, Max just holding his hand lightly and Steve hoped she could feel how much he cared about her. When she fell asleep, he stayed just a little longer before disentangling their fingers. He gently touched his lips to her forehead before heading to the room next door.

---

Eddie was jerked awake when a nurse turned on the lights in his room, he sat up blinking as his eyes adjusted. She quickly walked over to his bed holding a needle in her hand.

“Not even a ‘good morning’ before I get jabbed?” Eddie mumbled, still groggy from sleep.

The nurse just glared at him as she grabbed his arm. She stuck the needle in without warning, wanting it to hurt. “You better leave Hawkins, Munson.” She hissed at him as his blood filled the vial in her hand. “You aren’t welcome here. I don’t care what Hopper says, we know what you did.”

Eddie said nothing. What could he say? The cover story Hopper concocted was flimsy at best and the government would never allow the truth to get out. He glared back at her, just wanting her to finish and leave. Her grip on his arm was punishing, would probably leave bruises. Add them to the others, it didn’t matter. She sneered at him as she left. What a peach.

He settled back into the pillows, but sleep was elusive. Wayne spent as much time as he could with Eddie but now that he was awake and healing, he had to get back to work. He usually stopped by in the mornings after his shift. Eddie didn’t have to wait long before Wayne slipped quietly into the room.

“Mornin’ kid.” Wayne said. “Have you had breakfast yet? I can grab ya somethin.’”

“Nah, I’m alright,” Eddie replied. “Oh! I wanted to know if you’ve heard anything about school. I was so close to graduating, well crawling my way to graduating, but still!” Eddie said. “I was hoping they would let me finish out the year.”

Wayne was quiet. “I tried, kid but they refuse to have you back. I’m sure there’s some test you can take that’ll give you your diploma.”

“You’d think saving the world would earn a guy some extra credit.” Eddie joked outwardly. Inwardly his thoughts were spiraling.

The blows kept coming. He wouldn’t be able to graduate, there’s no way anyone in Hawkins would ever give him a job and he wasn’t sure he could stomach his side gig after Chrissy. Seeing his lunch box would probably send him directly into a panic attack. Seeing the trailer park would too, and Skull Rock and Lover’s Lake. Hawkins was tainted in a way Eddie could never have imagined. It had never felt like home to him, and he had always wanted to leave. But he had wanted to leave victoriously diploma in hand, not like this. Not as Eddie the Banished.

Eddie sighed. He didn’t know what to do. But it didn’t matter at the moment, he couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to. His insides were still trying to become his outsides. Fucking bats. Fucking hick nurses. Fucking Hawkins.

“Can you look into that for me, Wayne?” Eddie asked. “I’d like to figure out what I need to do to get whatever equivalent diploma I can.” It was a place to start, he would figure out the rest as it came. One step at a time.

“Sure thing, kid,” Wayne replied.

---

The weeks passed slowly for Eddie, and he was starting to lose it. He felt antsy, his natural chaotic energy having to be contained as much as possible so he didn’t tear out his stitches… Again. So, it was with great relief that the powers that be finally decided he was well enough to finish recovering at home. Or at least to whatever trailer the government had seen fit to replace his actual home with. Wayne said it was great, new and updated and bigger than the one Vecna had destroyed. He wouldn’t have most of his shit, but Wayne and the kids had done a good job of replacing a lot of what he had lost. He had a second-hand cassette player and a bunch of tapes, a thrifted copy of The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings, and clothes that Robin had snagged from the school. The most important thing – his sweetheart – had been salvaged. He couldn’t wait to start playing guitar again. He had written some pretty sick lyrics that he was excited to put music to.

Wayne finishing packing his bag just as a nurse came in with a wheelchair. He settled himself in and she pushed him out into the hall, Wayne trailing behind. He had her stop as they passed Max’s room. Steve was visiting. Steve was always visiting, never leaving either of them alone for too long. He noticed they were holding hands, which was weird because usually Max freaked out if anyone tried to touch her. Eddie was still constantly surprised by how good Steve was with the kids. How different he was with each of them based off their personalities and needs. Playful with Dustin, sincere with El, firm with Mike, soft with Max, heartfelt with Will, mentoring to Lucas. He understood people, saw them and what they needed. Eddie could never have imagined how much Steve gave of himself to the people he loved. Eddie wondered what Steve would give him, if he ever reached the level of friendship Steve had with the kids. And the thought sent a wave of longing so intense through Eddie that he was glad he was sitting down because his legs went weak with it.

“Heading out, Munson?” Steve asked, getting up and walking over to them.

“Yup! This place has had enough of my charms and they’re kicking me out.” Eddie shrugged and tried to steady his racing heart.

“You were a terrible patient, I don’t blame them at all!”

“I was a model patient, Harrington! I thought we were friends, how dare you take their side?” Eddie asked with feigned disgruntlement.

“How many times did you pull out your stitches, Munson?” Steve asked and folded his arms across his chest.

Steve had him there. He had pulled his stitches a few times trying to do things he shouldn’t, like play his guitar or - heaven forbid - go to the bathroom by himself!

“I can’t believe you’re going to leave me all alone here,” Max said from the bed. They had hung out a lot over the last few weeks, bonding over terrible wounds and angry music.

“Don’t worry Red, I’ll be back to visit. I would never leave you to the not-so-gentle mercies of the sadistic needle wielding nurses of Hawkins Memorial.”

Max smiled a little at the description. Eddie was ecstatic he could elicit even a small bit of happiness out of her.

“Onward, mighty stead!” Eddie pointed down the hall as the nurse sighed behind him. The staff were truly over his shit.

“Before you go, I wanted to give you this,” Steve said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He handed it to Eddie. It had Steve’s number written on it.

“Call if you need anything, Munson. Any time. I mean it.”

“Oh, you’re making a huge mistake giving me this Big Boy, prepare yourself for a lot of prank calls.” Eddie grinned up at him.

Steve went to grab the paper out his hands, but Eddie shoved it in his mouth to keep it away from him and mumbled, “kidding, kidding!”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “Get outta here Munson!”

---

“Get in the car Henderson!” Steve yelled. Dustin had a foot out of the door but was turned back and yelling at his mom. They were supposed to meet everyone at the arcade and they were going to be late if they didn’t leave now!

“Yes, Mom. I know… I know! I gotta go!” Dustin yelled and started closing the door. Suddenly Claudia appeared and grabbed Dustin’s face in a kiss. He struggled a bit before she let him go. She waved at Steve as Dustin ran to the car.

“Not a word, Steve,” Dustin said as he slipped into the passenger side.

“Would I make fun of you because of your mom?” Steve asked.

Dustin just gave him a look because yes. Yes, Steve would. Dustin immediately started fiddling with the radio and Steve batted his hands away as he pulled away from the curb.

“Who’s all meeting us?”

“Mike, Will, El, Lucas, and Eddie,” Dustin replied.

“Is Eddie healed enough to go to the arcade? He’s only been out of the hospital for a week.”

“He said he would take it easy but he really needed to get out of the house for a bit.”

Steve nodded. He could understand that, he went stir crazy in his house all of the time. But he would keep an eye on Eddie to make sure he wasn’t overdoing it. He sighed a little to himself. He really was a mother hen. He knew that no matter what Eddie said, he would push himself. Steve’s injuries were nowhere near as bad as Eddie’s had been and they were still bothering him so he knew Eddie must still be hurting. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes when Hungry like the Wolf by Duran Duran started playing on the radio. They were both bobbing along to the beat and singing the words quietly. After a few lines, they looked at each other smiling. Steve turned up the volume and they belted out the words together.

In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf

As the song ended, they howled out of the windows and laughed.

The drive to the arcade was calm. They chatted about school and Family Video and other little things. When they pulled up to the arcade, only a few minutes late, the rest of the group were all waiting outside.

“You’re late,” Mike grumbled as him and Dustin walked up.

“Blame Henderson. His Mommy wouldn’t let him leave without twenty kisses.”

“Steve!” Dustin whined and shot Steve a betrayed look. “That is not true!” The other kids snickered, all too aware of Claudia’s affection.

“Alright, line up!” Steve yelled. Mike, Dustin and Lucas immediately started pushing and shoving to get to the front of the line. Will and El, his current favourites, were hanging back and waiting for everyone else to settle. Steve always brought a shit ton of quarters whenever they went to the arcade because he never knew how many of the kids would be there and he wanted to make sure he had enough for everyone to have a good time.

“Nicely,” Steve scolded, “or you can use you own quarters.”

When they finally organized themselves into a peaceful line in front of him, Steve reached into his pocket and started divvying out quarters. Eddie was off to the side, looking unsure. Steve tilted his head in a ‘get in the line,’ gesture and Eddie grinned and went to stand behind Will and El. Quarters in hand, the kids scattered leaving Steve and Eddie behind.

“Back in two hours for lunch!” Steve yelled after them.

“You’re really good with them,” Eddie said as they walked side by side into the crowded arcade.

“Thanks, man.” Steve smiled fondly. “It’s good to see them get to be kids, ya know?”

Eddie nodded and shook the hand that held Steve’s quarters, making them rattle. “I didn’t know you saw me as one of them.”

Steve had to laugh. “Definitely not, Munson! You’re just lucky I always bring lots or you would have been out of luck.”

“I may be poor trailer trash Harrington, but I did bring my own quarters,” Eddie said as he leaned into Steve’s personal space. “I don’t need an arcade sugar daddy.” Steve felt his face warm up at the suggestive words.

Not one to back down, Steve stared directly into Eddie’s eyes and leaned toward him. “Well now you have more, just say ‘thank you, Steve’ and we can move on.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and whispered, “thank you, Steve.”

They were standing very close, still staring into each other and Steve’s heart did a weird little lurch. Eddie had really nice eyes, soft and warm. Steve couldn’t help it as his eyes flicked down to Eddie’s lips and then back up. Eddie was looking at him like he was trying to understand the secrets of the universe and Steve didn’t know what to do so he broke the moment by stepping back and slinging his arm over Eddie’s shoulder, steering him towards the machines.

“Let’s find you a game, Munson.”

Steve left him playing Asteroids and went to check on the kids and win himself some tickets. He was really good at Skee-Ball and basketball so he always cleaned up. He usually gave his tickets to El who was still learning how to play the games and was content to watch the others most of the time. He found them all huddled around Dragon’s Lair. They were occupied so he didn’t disturb them. After a few rounds of Skee-Ball Steve had already collected a good amount of tickets. He felt a pull on his sweater and turned around.

“I need more quarters,” Mike said.

“I didn’t hear a please in that sentence, Wheeler. You wanna try again?”

Mike glared at him, but Steve just raised his eyebrow.

“I need more quarters…” Mike took a deep pained breath. “Please,” he choked out.

“Sure thing, kiddo!” Steve replied happily and handed him a bunch more quarters. Mike took them and ran off without saying thank you. He was going to win that kid over if it killed him.

The hours passed quickly as Steve walked around the arcade and kept an eye on everyone. He frequently checked in on Eddie to make sure he was still doing okay. He looked tired but happy so Steve left him alone. Will and Dustin spent most of their time at either Dragon’s Lair or Pac-Man so they were easy to keep tabs on. Mike and El had disappeared deeper into the arcade to have some alone time and Lucas joined him at the basketball hoops every now and then. When it was getting close to lunch time, Steve started wrangling them up. He had them all gather at the display cases so they could trade in their tickets before heading out to eat. Eddie looked shocked that Steve had managed to get the most tickets out of all of them.

“I’m really good at putting balls into holes, Munson.” Steve winked and was pleased when the other man blushed.

He divvied up his tickets out to the kids like he did with his quarters, but gave the most to El and Eddie. Surprisingly, the other kids didn’t complain that this was unfair - probably because they understood why without having to ask. After everyone had picked out their prizes they headed out into the sunshine. Steve could admit to himself that it was one of the best days he had in a while. He was glad that Eddie had come, and just wished that Max could have been there too.

---

Family Video was always quiet on weekday afternoons. Steve was lost in thought as he mindlessly rewound tapes. Robin was sweeping the floor across the room. Now that The Upside Down was closed for good, Steve had to get on with living his life, but he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had no dreams of his own. Steve knew he wasn’t smart like Robin or Nancy, he had got by in high school on his looks and charm. He had no ambitions or motivations, he had mostly been gliding through life waiting for the next Upside Down disaster to strike. It was hard to make real plans when at any moment, the world could end… Again. But according to El, this time it was really over.

Steve didn’t know what he would do when everyone all left for college. And they all would, he knew that. Robin and Nancy were already working on it. Robin kept offering to bring him with her, saying they could get a place together. She would go to school and Steve could get another job… but it wouldn’t be his. And Steve desperately wanted something to be his. Something he could care about and be proud of. He just didn’t know what. He had no skills other than scooping ice cream, babysitting, demon slaying, and shitty customer service. Not exactly a well-rounded resume.

Oddly enough, Steve liked Hawkins. It was his home and always would be. And he felt like it was important for someone to stay here who knew what had happened. Just in case. And he was the only choice. He wasn’t sure what the Byers’ plans would be now that Hopper was alive. They might move back, or Hopper could leave for California. And the kids may have just started high school, but Steve knew they would graduate and leave Hawkins to do amazing things too. And Steve would be alone like always, left behind. As much as Steve hated the idea of them all leaving, he would never ask them to stay.

He wondered what Eddie’s plans were – maybe he would stick around -

“Steve?”

- why did that thought make him so happy? -

“Steve!”

“Jesus Rob, what?” Steve was jolted out of his thoughts by Robin standing in front of him, saying his name. Steve hadn’t noticed her come over.

“You’ve been staring into space for twenty minutes, what are you thinking so hard about?” she asked, exasperated.

He didn’t want Robin to know. The topic of her leaving was a hard one for both of them to talk about. Soulmates, even platonic ones, weren’t meant to be separated. And he couldn’t tell her he had been thinking about Eddie either. Steve panicked. What was something Robin would believe he had been thinking about for so long that wasn’t his existential crisis over his mediocre life and lack of purpose?

“Boobies!” Steve blurted.

Robin sighed. “You really are a Dingus.”

“Speaking of boobies, when are you going to ask out Vickie?” Steve asked.

Robin threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t just ask her out, Steve! How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

“You’re never going to know unless you make a move, Rob. Wouldn’t you rather know for sure than keep doing this awkward friends thing you’re doing now?”

Robin snorted. “You’re one to talk about awkward friend things!”

“What are you talking about?” Steve honestly had no clue. Robin just kept looking at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world. Nothing new, there. Whatever, she would tell him if it was important.

“Look, invite her over for a movie and sit really close to her on the couch and then touch her hands as often as possible in the popcorn bowl. Or anything that toes the line between friendly and friendly,” Steve said and wiggled his eyebrows.

Robin seemed to think about it, tilting her head to the side.

“You want her to know that you’re interested but not come right out and say it. If she reciprocates the more intimate touches, I think you’re in the clear for more. Yeah?”

“Maybe,” Robin sighed. “I just don’t think I’m brave enough to do anything like that, Steve.”

“Rob, we fought a literal super-powered villain right out of our worst nightmares and won. Vickie can’t be any scarier than that! And hey, if it does go badly you’re leaving for college soon anyway.”

“I think I’d rather fight Vecna again,” she said and Steve laughed.

Robin smacked his arm and then left to finish sweeping and Steve went back to rewinding tapes. God, he was going to miss her.

---

Dustin was dead and Demobats were eating Eddie’s face. They were tearing his skin off and he was drowning in his own blood. A tail was wrapped around his neck and he couldn’t breathe. His arms and legs were being held down. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything as they started working on his stomach, biting huge pieces of his skin away…

Eddie woke up screaming. He laid on his bed panting and grabbing at his face. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was drowning. Fuck. He looked at the clock. 2:15AM. Wayne was gone for the night. There was no way Eddie was going to be able to go back to sleep after that. He shuddered and wiped at his eyes.

He needed… He needed to talk to someone. He wanted to call Dustin but it was too late and he didn’t want to disturb the Henderson’s. Steve had told him to call if he needed anything. This didn’t qualify though, right? He couldn’t call Steve Harrington at two in the morning because he had a nightmare. That was too embarrassing, even for Eddie. But his heart was still beating too fast and he felt seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. He quickly grabbed the paper with Steve’s number on it out of his notebook and crawled to the kitchen. He grabbed the phone off the wall and sat down in front of the fridge, dialing quickly before he could stop himself. Steve probably wouldn’t answer anyway…

“Harrington residence.” It didn’t sound like Eddie had woken him up.

“Is that really how you answer the phone at 2:00 in the morning?” Eddie couldn’t help but ask.

“I didn’t know there was a time limit on politeness, Munson. What’s up? Are you okay?”

Eddie didn’t know how to answer that question. He had called badass demon slayer Steve Harrington because he had a stupid little nightmare. Did he admit to the nightmare or just say he was having trouble sleeping? He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t want Steve to think he was a pathetic loser who couldn’t handle his shit. He was breathing too quickly and his vision was starting to get blurry – black spots dancing in the edges.

“Munson? … Eddie, talk to me. Please.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late… In the hospital there was always people around, nurses and - and doctors just outside the door and the hallway lights were on. But here… Wayne works nights and I’m alone…I - I haven’t been able to sleep… I had a nightmare and I – I…” Eddie couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He was still trying to catch his breath, clutching the phone against his ear so hard it hurt.

“It’s okay Eddie,” Steve said softly, “listen to me and try to match my breathing.”

Steve started taking large and exaggerated breaths and releasing them slowly. Eddie couldn’t do it at first, his own harsh breaths making it difficult to hear Steve through the phone. Knowing that another person was there helped though and he slowly started to calm down enough to follow along to Steve’s breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. On and on and on. Steve never stopped and never changed his pace. Eddie leaned his head back against the fridge and closed his eyes. In and out. In and out. In and out. He was exhausted. He hadn’t had a full night’s rest since coming home from the hospital and it was starting to wear him down, panic attack aside.

“Thanks,” Eddie rasped, “I – I think I’m alright now. I’ll let you go, sorry for keeping you up.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Steve said instead of the ‘good night, Munson’ Eddie had been expecting.

“What?”

“You can’t sleep alone, so I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t have to do that! I’m fine now!”

“See ya soon,” was all Steve said before he hung up the phone.

Eddie listened to the dial tone for a minute before putting the phone back in its cradle. He grabbed a glass of water and went to sit on the couch. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms and rocked himself back and forth. He just had to get through the next few minutes and Steve would come. Steve would… be here. Steve Harrington would be in his trailer! At… He looked at the clock…3:00AM. Shit. Shit. Shit. He looked around. It was a mess, he and Wayne never really bothered with tidying up. A short while and a mini whirlwind of cleaning later, Eddie heard Steve’s car pull up on the gravel outside.

Steve knocked quietly, and Eddie went to let him in. He was wearing what must be his pajamas, loose fitting track pants and a faded green sweater that looked really soft. His hair was messed up, like he had constantly run his hands through it, and he looked bone weary.

“You didn’t have to come,” Eddie said instead of hello.

“Of course I did,” Steve replied as he stepped past Eddie into the trailer.

“I’m exhausted. Let’s go to bed,” Steve said and Eddie’s brain short circuited as he followed him to his room on autopilot. Steve crawled into his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world and tilted an eyebrow up at Eddie, who was just standing there and staring at him. Was he still dreaming? Was this all an elaborate illusion cooked up by his traumatized brain? There was no way Steve Harrington was actually in his bed right now. Eddie pinched himself. Ouch. Real then. Trying not to be any more awkward (and probably failing miserably), Eddie gingerly laid down on the other side of the bed. He was too stiff, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with Steve so close. Eddie’s bed was small. Steve must have felt how tense Eddie was because he broke the tense silence.

“I get them too,” Steve said so softly Eddie could barely hear him. He was quiet for a few minutes and Eddie didn’t want to push so he just waited.

“We told you about the Russians under the mall but we didn’t finish the story.” Steve took a shaky breath.

“They tortured us. Me and Robin. I think they come up so often in my nightmares, more than the Demobats or the Mind Flayer or Vecna, because they were just people. Not monsters… but men. The Upside Down is closed but there are still evil people in the world who just want to hurt us because they can and there’s no portal we can close to stop them. I dream that I’m strapped to the chair, and they’re not even touching me, but I can feel them hitting the person I’m tied to. Over and over again. Sometimes it’s Robin, sometimes Dustin or Nancy. And there’s nothing I can do to save them, even as I’m screaming at the Russians, begging them to hit me instead. Kill me instead. They never do.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. What did you say to someone after they told you they were tortured? Words felt meaningless, instead he reached for Steve. He slipped his left hand into the sweater of Steve’s right arm. The sweater was as soft as it looked. He kept inching up until he was grasping Steve’s forearm in a tight grip inside the sweater. It was an extremely intimate touch, and he held his breath waiting for Steve to push him away. He didn’t. He gripped Eddie back. There was still so much he didn’t know about Steve, but every new thing he learned just made him like him more. Made him understand why the kids loved him so deeply. It also broke his heart realizing that Steve only saw his value in being a punching bag so his friends didn’t get hurt.

“I’m glad you called Eddie. I don’t sleep well alone either,” Steve whispered into the darkness.

They were practically embracing and it felt so good to have Steve next to him. Eddie couldn’t get his heart under control, wondered if Steve could hear it. Wondered what this meant, if Steve knew that Eddie liked him or was just accepting a comforting touch from a tactile friend. Steve seemed to accept how often Eddie touched him like it was just a quirk of his character. He probably didn’t realize Eddie wasn’t like that with everyone. He had no idea how Steve felt about him, but he couldn’t help but hope. And every time Eddie flirted with him and Steve flirted back, every time Eddie touched him and he didn’t immediately turn away, the hope kept growing. Eddie wanted him closer. Wanted to crawl into his lap and stay there forever. Wanted to own him and be owned by him. Eddie’s feelings had always been overwhelming, crashing over him in waves that threatened to drown him in their intensity. And Eddie was drowning. He just didn’t know if he was drowning alone.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #second chances #rockstar eddie munson

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mldniqhts · 2 years

Text

Hearts To Break

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: Possessed by a selfish God looking to erupt pain into mortals, he takes over your mind and body with no recollection of what happened. What’s even worse is that you hear its command for you to kill Marc. The only thing that is left of you is your time with him before your body isn’t yours anymore.

Warnings: self-abuse, blood, self-harm, violence, knives

Screams were what woke Marc in the middle of the night. Hearing them faintly in his sleep, he didn’t think much of it. More like his conscious didn’t make out that the noises surrounding his ears were in fact your screams.

One, in particular, jolted him awake. For a brief moment, he didn’t feel fear. That was until he heard your whimpers follow.

Yanking the covers away, he pushed himself off the bed, hurrying to race towards you. It was too dark for Marc to make out Steven’s belongings that he kept bumping into. Darkness had spread across the ceiling, looking up and down, he turned his head to the right, seeing a faint yellow light envelope around your face.

Breathing out, he raced towards you, falling onto his knees. With the small amount of light, he could make out your movements: hitting your head with the palm of your hands, loud smacks being heard from him while you continued to cry out.

“It’s here.” you said. Repeating the words over and over again Marc knew what was going on. For the twenty-seventh night in a four. Yes, for twenty-seven nights these hauntings have taken over your body.

At least these types of hauntings would leave you muttering intelligible words.

Holding your body close to his, he forcefully allowed your head to rest against the crook of his neck, the only thing he could do that wouldn’t end in you throwing things just to prove his presence.

Looking up in the ceiling, as he has done so many times, he looked up to God, to whichever God was hearing, he didn’t care. All he cared about was to be heard. All he cared is that a God would actually do something for once. That was all he wanted, for this pain that surrounded you every night to go away.

“I’m here,” Marc whispered, overlapping his voice with your smaller cries.

Rocking you, he didn’t know how much time had passed. But by the time you were finished, by the time you fell asleep in his arms, the sun had already begun to rise.

And he was tired.

This couldn’t keep up. But he knew that this would end eventually. However, the catch was that once this ended, something else would come. God, he wasn’t ready for that.

Two weeks had passed and the nightmares have stopped. But as Marc had predicted its haunting continued. Rather than nightmares that you would wake up to, Marc would wake up to see you staring outside at a window. Always when he called out your name, always, you would turn to look at him, your loving expression nowhere to be found.

That wasn’t you. It never really was recently.

As Steven came back from work, each evening he would find you staring at the TV. The channel would always be the same, your face would always be drifted away into space until Steven came in between you and the TV, and you would look up at him.

But your loving expression still nowhere to be found.

Your body would always jerk away from his touch. You would always slouch, look left and right, stare with a dangerous look in your eye, and your hands were ready to attack like you had claws to make others bleed.

And whenever it would go away, for the time being, you would always not choose to talk.

You wouldn’t speak. You wouldn’t eat. You stayed awake for hours until he found you sleeping on a chair, your entire body slouched and uncomfortable.

He would always bring you to his bed, lowering his covers onto you as he dimmed the lights enough for him to see you. Sitting on a chair, he turned it to face you while he dug into Steven’s book of mortals and Gods, looking for answers, an answer to break you free from this Hell.

As hours passed, Marc himself would finally rest, waiting for the next day to arrive to relieve himself that he kept you with him for a while longer.

Alas, a whisper brought him back to life.

“Marc.”

Blinking, Marc looked around to find Khonshu, but he wasn’t the one who called him awake. Finding you on your knees on the left side of the chair, he sat up, your face seen clearly.

Your expression was soft. Loving. Still, that kind woman that had disappeared for half a month. It was you. You.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked. Your hands slowly made their way to his, tangling with one another before you rested your head on his lap.

It took a small moment of silence to retrieve an answer from you. In which you admitted, “I can’t sleep. I’m scared.”

He would never want to admit it either, not to himself or ever to you but he was scared also. Scared that this night would be the last time he would ever see you. Steven knows scared he was. Jake knew it too.

Bringing his free hand to your head, he brushed your hair, replying to your worry with, “Just try not to be.”

Yeah, great advice, Marc.

Though it was the dumbest thing he has ever said, you took it as encouragement from the man you loved to keep pushing through this time of your life.

And within a few minutes, the two of you were left sleeping again.

Winter had come and it was all quite the same. He had grown used to whatever has taken over you for it had developed a routine. Every morning you would wake up with him holding you close. And every morning as they went to work, your body would soon not become your own.

By the time night fell, Steven came home to find you staring at the TV again. Always the same channel now.

“Darling?” he spoke out to you.

You didn’t move.

Putting down his bag onto the floor, he walked behind you, calling out to you again, “Darling?”

Nothing.

Through the many times that he has been through this with you, this time as he called out your name he couldn’t help but feel anxiety climb behind his back.

Step by step, he finally made it in front of you. Normally you would be staring at the TV, it’s bright screen flashing across your face. But it wasn’t your face that he noticed first this time. This time he had come to notice the trickling blood that came down from your wrists.

Jumping at the view, he cried out, “Bloody- Shit!”

Hurrying to you, he involuntarily pressed his arm against the slits, feeling the warm liquid come against his palms. Muttering continuous words, he looked up and down at you repeatedly, seeing your eyes were shut.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say or even if he should say anything.

All he could do was hold pressure. That’s all he could do as he gathered his anxiety right until the moment he wiped the sudden tears away that Jake had taken full control of the body, not leaving Steven or Marc to view from the headspace.

Jake jerked up, taking off his shirt before he wrapped the cloth around your wrists, pulling them together rather than waste time to rip it it apart.

Without hesitation, he stood up, picking up your body to be brought into the bathroom. On his way, he kneeled down to grab a pillow from the floor, using it to support your head against the wall when he lowered your body down onto the floor.

Grabbing anything and everything Jake thought he would need he threw it onto the ground, immediately working on stitching the slits that had bled through the fabric of his shirt. Hearing your small whimpers come out of your lips, he stopped for a moment, holding himself up on his knees, he brought his hands up to cup your cheek, holding your dearly in a way that he didn’t want to let go.

He himself, Jake, would never admit his love to you. But in a time like this he wishes he did.

“Nena, me escuchas?” Jake whispered, tilting his head.

Your small whimpers continued, your brows now furrowing together as he could only imagine the pain you were in.

“Nena?” he tried again.

“Hm?”

A small chuckle spurted out as relief finally hit his chest to hear that you were still alive. Holding the string he didn’t dare to move the needle until he heard you again. And more than that you did as you flickered your eyes open, your eyes meeting his in a hazy way.

Parting his lips, he embraced you in a hug, sighing, “Ay Dios. Ay, gracias a Dios.”

Holding you down he didn’t realize that you were attempting to move away from him. Squirming your way out of his touch, the stitches he had made so far were beginning to break open, blood beginning to flow up, dripping down slowly out of your arms.

Furrowing his brows, Jake looked down, holding your lap down before you could get further. “No, para.” he said, repeatedly looking at your pained face and the blood engulfing like a volcano.

He didn’t understand what you were doing. Why were you moving away from him? You know that he would never hurt you, right? He would never.

“Nena, tate quieta.” He said, a more demanding tone coming out of him.

That’s when your mumbles began. Your gaze darting around, left and right, not even noticing the damage that was erupting out of your body for your panic and fear was the only thing you could feel as the presence felt stronger like he was right in front of you. But it wasn’t in front of you. No, it was Jake in front of you.

God, Not unless…

Looking down, you spotted Jake’s pocket that you knew had a knife, a gun, a weapon or something always in there. Without a second thought, you pulled your hand away from his, pushing your body forward for a moment as you digged into his pocket. His fear of the sudden movement got the best of him as you grabbed the knife, holding it against him.

Freezing his hands while they were about to hold you down, he raised them high enough for you to see. His words, his hands, his mind and body completely frozen at the fact that you, you, were threatening him.

Panting, you slowly got onto your two feet, not blinking for a second as you held the knife just close enough for him to not dare to move.

Breathing through his nose, he kept his left hand high as he pushed himself up with his right. Keeping his eyes on your, he said, “Put the knife down.”

Jake had never looked so scared. He has never felt so scared. Holding a knife to him, ready to attack, staying still and you still haven’t noticed the blood gushing down of your wrists.

Growing impatient at the thought of you hurting yourself, he yelled,

“Put it down!”, so loudly enough that his fear was thrown down by anger, frustration.

He didn’t know how to happened. He didn’t know what really was happening but it wasn’t you anymore. Shit, it wasn’t. You weren’t slouching anymore. You weren’t breathing deeply anymore. You weren’t loving anymore as someone new took possession of your sweet, fragile body.

Its eyes looked evil, like it was the Devil himself. For a while it stayed silent. But a small laugh came out of it, almost mocking him. Almost. “Patience, Lockley.” It said. “We both know it had to happen eventually.”

Furrowing his brows, Jake shifted his body, unable to focus, unable to know what to do next.

But, of course, the seemingly Devil gave him no time as it leaped forward with its arms extended. Thankfully, Jake caught its wrists, the same wrists that were still dripping with blood as he firmly gripped on them. Holding them down, it weakened for a moment before it looked straight at him.

Even through Jake’s layers, it could still see his fears. That soon, one of these days, he would find the woman he loves dead.

Another laugh manically came out, right before it caught Jake’s moment of vulnerability to cut his arm, ripping through the fabric.

“Mierda!” he shouted, falling back against the floor.

Your body fell in an instant that not even he could catch you. Hitting the ground, and despite his injury, Jake hurried to you, bringing your head onto his lap. Gritting his teeth, his frustration grew, he knew that time was the one thing that the two of you didn’t have anymore.

And it scared him. His greatest fear was going to come true after all.

With your hands in his, he touched ever part of your body as if it was going to be the last time. As soon as he cupped your face, he saw you move your mouth, mumbling his name, “Jake.”

Jake didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He didn’t know much time you had. And you? You felt just about the same. You knew with this, you were going to die. That one of these following days would be your last until this shameful God will possess your life, take over your body like it had never belonged to you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were trapped in this state of being fearful, vulnerable, and you hated it. Despised it. And you despised even more that this would end. One way or another.

#marc spector #marc spector angst #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x reader #moon knight #moon knight angst #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #jake lockely imagine #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley angst

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stranger-marauders · 2 years

Text

repaired

three: the episode

chapter summary: Steve and Kate both have to go to work, but Kate holds a hesitation.

chapter warnings: language, making out, ptsd-like symptoms

word count: 2.4k

series masterlist | masterlist

THE NEXT MORNING, Steve had been the first to wake up.

Steve had found himself, since his first time encountering the Upside Down, to have trouble sleeping. Before that night, he'd been fine. He could've slept forever if he truly wanted to. It had only gotten worse the second time around. Every night seemed to be filled with the most terrible nightmares. While some were just memories of what happened that night, most of the time, he had the same reoccurring nightmare: the one where he didn't save her. It had been something that had haunted him still now, but not near as often. Whenever Kate had told him about having the same type of problem, they'd both decided they would stay with each other at night, hopefully bringing comfort to each other. When it seemed to help Kate's nightmares go away, his seemed to disappear too, or at least for the most part. Even after all they'd done to try to protect themselves from their own thoughts, he still seemed to have immense trouble sleeping.

As Kate still lay in bed asleep, Steve only watched her. She had always seemed so peaceful when she was sleeping. She'd worn a tank top to sleep in, her scars showing on her shoulder that peeked out from the top of the sheets. He only found himself staring at them whenever she couldn't see him staring—he didn't think it changed the way she looked, but it was only his way of checking the scars on her skin without asking her about them. While they had healed over, the markings had left physical scars on her, the two most prominent being on her right shoulder and on the left side of her stomach, the emotional ones they had left still hadn't quite healed.

He never liked to ask her about her scars because of how self-conscious she was of them. Because her two scars looked almost as if she'd scrubbed her own skin with sandpaper because of the teeth of the Demodogs, maybe as if she'd drug a knife down her collarbone because of its claws, Kate like her scars needed to be hidden away, just like all the other secrets of Hawkins Laboratory and the Upside Down. For a while, she had tried covering them with makeup, but over time, she found it much easier just to wear shirts that covered the scar on her shoulder. She'd found t-shirts, flannels, and cardigans that made her scars easy to cover, especially with her hair down. Because of that, only a few people had ever seen them—she'd become very good at hiding them, especially from the ones that loved her most.

Whenever her eyes finally fluttered open, Steve pushed the hair out of her face. "Morning."

"Morning," she replied, her voice groggy. She squinted—she'd forgotten to close the curtains after Steve had come through the window.

"You sleep okay?"

"Somewhat," she said, curling into him. "Other than the fact that some idiot kept pulling me into him, yeah."

He chuckled, pulling his arm tighter around her. "Wonder who that could've been."

Before she could reply, Steve tilted her face in his direction, pulling her closer to him so he could kiss her. When his lips made contact with hers, she melted into him, throwing her arms lazily around him. He moved on top of her, releasing his lips from her and beginning to make his way down her neck, making light nibbles along the way. "Steve, if my dad walked in—"

He pulled away for only a moment, shrugging before brushing her jawline with his thumb. "He's not going to."

She only smiled as his lips returned to hers—that was, until there was a knock at the door.

Kate quickly pushed him off of her, and Steve flipped himself over on the other side of the bed. He would've thrown a shirt on, too, but he didn't want to risk being so loud that the door was opened.

"Hey, Kate, breakfast," her father called.

"Shit," she mumbled. She looked to Steve, who had a very panicked look on his face and sighed softly. Whenever she spoke again, she raised her voice loud enough to where her father could hear her. "I'll be out in a sec!"

Whenever Kate turned back to Steve, he gave her an unreadable expression. "I should go."

"No," she whined, drawing out the word as she wrapped her arms around him. "Please don't go. Not yet."

"Jesus, you're killing me," he said, moving to hold her by the waist.

She pouted slightly, leaning into him more. "Stevie, please."

He groaned, pressing his forehead against hers. "Don't do that. Please don't do that. You're gonna make me stay and get us caught, okay? Is that what you want?"

"Right now, kind of." Whenever he pulled away and gave her a confused look, she sighed as she looked down at her watch. "It's still early. What if you just... snuck around back to the front? Act like you came for Dad?"

He chuckled. "Your dad's not stupid, Kathy." He finally worked up the courage to pull himself out of bed, peeling his shirt off of her desk chair whenever he'd stood back up. "Besides, you don't have work until, like, one-ish?"

She sighed, climbing out of bed and pulling a cardigan off of her mirror that had been hanging there. "Yeah."

As he slipped his shirt over his head, she could only watch him. Something she'd always found odd but charming about him was how attractive he still looked in the morning. Even if he hadn't made his hair the way he wanted to, and maybe there were bags under his eyes, he still looked handsome. At times like these, it pained her—she oculd only admire him for mere minutes before he had to leave her.

It was always moments like these that made her remember she was supposed to leave soon. She had fifty-six days until she left for school, exactly eight weeks until she wouldn't see anyone for months at a time. That was why she had been spending seemingly every waking moment with Steve. She knew, mostly because of money reasons, that she wouldn't see Steve until Thanksgiving break. She couldn't afford to fly back to Indiana all the time, and Steve definitely couldn't afford a plane ticket right now, not when he could barely support himself financially. She wouldn't let him do that for her, even though she wanted more than anything for him to just come with her.

It wasn't something that they'd ever truly talked about: what would happen when she finally left for school that fall. Kate figured that Steve thought about it the same way she did. There wasn't any point in delaying the inevitable, and for the time being, they could at least enjoy each other's time together. That way, leaving wouldn't hurt near as much.

The thought of leaving Hawkins, however, made Steve leaving right now that much more difficult.

"Hey," he said, catching her gaze. He pulled her closer to him, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll see you later, right?"

She nodded, sighing. "Two o'clock at the latest, captain."

Steve smiled at her, squeezing her hands tight before letting go of them. Captain was better than sailor boy, at least. He moved to open the window, just about to slip out of it when she softly said, "I love you."

He smiled. He didn't think he would ever get tired of hearing those three words in her voice, especially guided toward him. "Love you, too, Kathy."

After he slipped out the window, she closed and locked it behind him, pulling the curtains to a close. Whenever she walked out of her room, her father and El had already started eating the pancakes he'd made for breakfast.

"You feelin' okay?" her father asked, watching over her with concern.

She looked to him, confused. "What?"

"Your face is all flushed. You sure you're not feeling bad or anything?"

"Oh... no," she replied, rubbing her face before she turned pink. She looked to the blue hair tie on her wrist. "I'm fine."

Since the events of the previous Halloween, Hopper had always been extremely proactive to how Kate was feeling. When she'd gotten so hurt, when she'd almost been taken from him, there had been many hospital visits, many appointments, checkups... it had almost seemed endless. Even though it hadn't been as many as Will Byers had after he had been stuck in the Upside Down for five days, it had still been so much to keep up with. They'd been told so many different outcomes, different diagnoses—Hopper had no idea how they'd made it. He, since then, constantly checked on her with how she was feeling. He didn't want any more relapses, and he certainly didn't want her to be any worse off than she already was. He never knew what to expect—Kate had been the only person that they'd known of to survive such an attack.

Kate sat down in her seat at the table, looking to the plate of pancakes in front of her. "What's the special occasion?"

"There isn't one," her father replied. "Just felt like doin' somethin' special or my girls."

She half-smiled. "Yeah?" She looked at El. "Mike coming today?"

She nodded. "Soon."

When her father had only grimaced for half a second, she smiled, turning to her father. "Hey, uh, what time d'you want me at the station?"

"Any time before nine," he answered, taking a bite of his pancakes. "Sandy said she's coming in at one."

"All right, if you'll wait on me, I'll go with you," she said, taking a bite of her pancakes. "After I finish this, I've got to take a shower."

Hopper nodded, letting Kate finish her breakfast and start to get ready for work.

Kate's job at the station had been somewhat of an upgrade compared to the bookstore.

While the pay was much better, she also got to hang out with her dad before she left for college. The hours were extremely reasonable, considering she would fill in for receptionists and secretaries as needed. The job itself consisted of whatever needed to be done around the plcae: taking phone calls, filing reports, and even making the occasional lunch run a few storefronts down to one of the food establishments downtown. She hadn't ever minded taking shifts at the station, but sometimes, especially when she had worked so many mornings in a row, they seemed to drag on.

"Hey, Kate, can you file these old cases for me?" Flo asked, dropping a few old files on her desk.

Whenever she looked at them, she found them to be older in age, the newest file showing to be from 1983. Her eyebrows furrowed together, grabbing them from off the desk to put in her hands. "Geez, some of these are old."

"You're older than all of those cases," she said, shaking her head. "Be careful with those, though. Some of them break easy."

"Wait, which..." Before Kate could even begin to ask which ones would be an issue, Flo walked back to her desk, going back to whatever she had been preoccupied with before. She only shook her head, getting up and moving to the filing room with the files in hand. As she put them away, going by the year they were started, Kate finally found her way to the noticeably chunkier file: the 1983 one. Her eyes furrowed together as she opened the file, only to find Will Byers' missing report in the very front of it.

Her heartrate started to increase as Kate moved through the file, looking at the information displayed. Most of the information that was in the file had been fabricated by Hawkins Laboratory after Will had been found by her father and his mother. Whenever she got to the end of the file, she had only found Barbara Holland's death report, hers and the four other victims' missing or death reports at the very end. Those five people had also disappeared because of the Upside Down, later killed because of the Demogorgon—they hadn't been as lucky as Will to escape. Her heart began to beat even faster, and as she slid down the side of the wall, landing on the floor with a thud, she found herself back at the lab.

She only lay weakly on the floor, not able to fight back as a Demodog bit away at her flesh. The beast only seemed to tar away at her skin more and more, her losing more and more blood. Kate couldn't stop herself from breathing shallowly. She could almost feel the life in her fade away, and no one could do anything to stop the bleeding—

"Katie," her father called, pulling her back to reality. She didn't know when he had come in the room, but since he had, he'd moved next to her, sitting in front of her. She hadn't even realized that she'd slid to the floor. She felt like she was going to throw up.

She'd had another episode.

"You okay?" he asked her, moving to sit next to her and lean against the wall. He looked to the deconstructed file that seemed to spread the floor, the papers all falling out of the file and to the floor when she'd dropped it.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine," she said, taking a deep breath. She had to slow her heart rate down. "I just... It's that file. I shouldn't have even opened it."

He grimaced. "I'm so sorry. If I would've known that was out, I would've just told Flo I had it—"

"No," she said, shaking her head. She took a shaky breath as she stood back up. "I... I don't need any kid of special treatment. I can do things just like everyone else, okay?"

He sighed. "Fine, kid."

Hopper could only watch as his daughter left the filing room, wiping her face as to not alert anyone that the tears had come again.

next chapter

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@thatsonezesty13 @cece5298 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellacauseshebroke @blackbirddaredevil23 @mads-weasley @ilovemarauders @pearlstiare @liableperfections @khaylin27 @girlwiththerubyslippers @cyarikaaa @flicksturz

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hopper!reader #stranger things 3 #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington series #steve harrington stranger things

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salvationofsouls · 4 months

Text

HAIL HYDRA.

The phrase laid on the tip of his tongue like a twisted prayer, a forgotten nightmare. In his sleep, it was worse. He was accustomed to waking up in twisted sheets, flickers of a time he couldn’t quite remember playing underneath closed lids. He’d often come to, staring at the ceiling of the abandoned building where he’d sought solace, gasping for air. When he was conscious, the pain would start. A throb in his temples, which travelled down. ( He hadn’t stuck around to find out the lasting damage, but he knew the scarring ran deeper than the surface. Even now, there was no escaping the sheer discomfort of torn muscle. ) He doubted he’d ever walk properly again, left with a permanent limp which you’d think put him at a disadvantage. Yet on the contrary, he’d learned to manipulate people, providing a false sense of security. They thought he was weak, feeble - the easy target. He allowed them to lower their defences and then struck. He’d been surviving like that at the skin of his teeth whenever he was unlucky enough to be outnumbered.

No one looked twice at the broken man. No one thought he was capable of inflicting such brutal anarchy. It was funny really, wasn’t it?

Rumlow perhaps would’ve… But oh how his name left a bitter taste in his mouth, and that was another kind of ache. Before STRIKE, he’d never believed he was capable of such sentiment. He’d been dragged up, kicking and screaming in the hell hole he’d been forced to come home, always having to fend for himself, since no other fucker would guide him. He’d learned to steal from a young age, and even then he’d known how to pull the wool over another's eyes. ( He'd been a scrawny little runt, fast enough to flee before anyone suspected too much. No one could say he couldn’t improvise, or put on a performance, he’d done it his entire life. He just hadn’t expected to take one step forward and ten back. ) He’d naively assumed he was done with this shit. That he’d been on a destination to the straight and narrow. He’d never stopped to think about how corrupt HYDRA was. They’d been his salvation, even laced in poison. Yet now, he had no choice, he had to start from scratch. The one who had recruited him in the bloody first place had gone, hadn’t he?

Brock had perished, burned to a bloody crisp no doubt, and he’d been left to do the only damn thing he was good for. Revenge was bittersweet; a basic human instinct. HYDRA had left them both to rot, they’d proved their loyalty, and their reward had been to be disowned like badly behaved boys. He’d always believed that no matter how far off the deep end they went, they’d have each other. He’d had Rumlow’s six since he’d risen through the ranks in STRIKE. ( Who was he now without him? A rogue living half a life? He’d lost his partner in crime, his blood brother - his -- ) No, he couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t remember that. Fingers snatched up the Balisong, twisting it between his fingers to distract himself, counting as he’d disciplined himself to do, a coping mechanism that had to be healthier than stabbing some poor bastard every time the rage consumed him. He’d need to do a supply run soon; his liquor was running empty, and his food was scarce.

He’d been popping pills to get by. Vicodin mostly, but they came with their own complications. Like everything else, there was a price to pay. He either sucked it up or he gave up completely, and the latter wasn’t in his nature. Besides, HYDRA deserved to be hit heavily. Sure he might not be able to destroy them all, but he’d damn well try, and it was that notion that motivated him to finally move, throwing stuff into his kit. ( He’d always travelled light, preferring to rely on his fists and wit but a few guns were added to his arsenal, and then he was ready to follow what he presumed would be another loose end. ) Ah well, there was no way of knowing without investigating was there? Giving one last look around the dreary apartment, he hot-wired the car in the garage, the stolen plates providing enough of a cover, and forced his shitty leg to behave, before slipping out into the world.

The drive there wasn’t anything to hark about, pretty uneventful just the way he liked it, and the car was discarded several miles away, reluctantly deciding to go the rest of the way on foot. He couldn’t be too careful; they could have eyes and ears everywhere. Call it paranoia, but he wasn’t about to take any chances and he only proceeded down the hill once he was sure he hadn’t been followed. ( Naturally, he stuck out like a sore thumb; stealth came with difficulty when you had to hop about like a rabbit. Yet he made it down towards the crumbling structure and eyed the remnants of the roof with careful consideration. ) Damn it, it looked like one wrong move, would bring the entire place down. Now that he was there though, he had to risk it for a biscuit, eh? Scoffing at the sheer irony of escaping one collapse, only to meet his fucking end in another, he proceeded.

Soon enough boots crunched under debris, his Glock 19 tracing the walls of the dilapidated confines of what was once one of HYDRA’S vast empires. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. What would they think of all their work going up in flames? Would they care? Or would they not bat an eyelid? He wasn’t sure. He had thought he had known them, and what a lie that had been. So much for loyalty. It had got him nowhere. Just knee-deep in rubble, kicking stone with a leg that was about as useless as a chocolate fireguard. ( Though in time, he made it through, scouring the area. It was a good job too, he was thankful for his instincts. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, giving him the heebbie-jeebies, and ah yes - what the fuck was that? ) He wasn’t alone… there was - for a horrifying moment, he felt sick. He was sure it was but no - couldn’t be. Nevertheless, his weapon trained on the shadow, breath hitching as he became convinced he was seeing things. Man, he needed his medication - now. This wasn’t healthy. One shouldn’t chase ghosts. But then the words came out gravelled from his own lips; trigger steady.

‘Oi, arsehole. Don’t you fuckin’ move.’

#crossxxbones #tw voilence #♂ | Jack Rollins. ( Starters. )

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davyjoneslockr · 1 year

Note

IF you want. maybe naramis child too. if you want

DON'T WORRY I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT NARAMIS SON

He is a little dude and his name is Finn. As I have mentioned before. I wanted to name him the Italian word for fennel because there's a popular Sicilian dish that's a citrus salad with fennel. So it connects to both their food names (arancia/orange and mista/mixed salad). And I thought that'd be cute. But apparently that word is sometimes also a homophobic slur in Italy so. Sighs. He's Finn Mista-Ghirga. Close enough.

I'm torn between like. Trans dad Mista and he's born the old-fashioned way, or they see Giorno and Fugo use Gold Experience to create their daughter and they're like "Hey. Can you spawn in a kid for us too." Either way, Narancia is super excited, but a little anxious (he just wants to be the best parent he can for his kid, even if he didn't have a lot of good parental role models growing up), and Mista's straight-up ecstatic. Out of the Bucci Gang, he's the one I can see definitely wanting to be a dad, and the minute they even start talking about having a kid, he knows he's going to love them, whoever they are.

So Finn is born. Mista and Narancia are constantly at his side, and they're exhausted, and it's one of the happiest periods of their lives. Even though Finn can't see them yet, the Sex Pistols are already fretting over him, and Narancia will attach ribbons to Aerosmith's wings and (carefully) fly it around the house, which Finn thinks is the coolest thing ever. One night, they're sitting on the couch, Finn in Mista's arms, completely ignoring whatever's on TV to watch his sleeping face. He's half-conscious for a short moment (during which they freak out and turn off the TV and barely breathe in fear that they'll wake him up fully), and he just grasps one of their fingers in each little hand, and Mista and Narancia just look at each other, tears beading in their eyes, like. Oh my god. That's our kid. That's our son.

Mista sings him to sleep every night. Almost as soon as he can walk, he's trying to dance to the music playing constantly in their house, and Narancia will crouch down and grab his hands and just sway around with him, their combined laughter filling the room.

He takes after both his parents, so he's a very high-energy kid. He's constantly wanting to run around in the backyard, doing improv parkour in the living room, so on and so forth. Of course, he has a lot of playdates with the Fugio daughter, and his relentless energy, Viola's propensity for quiet scheming, and both of their impulsiveness makes them a nightmare to babysit. If they're together, they need to be on baby leashes or something. Otherwise, they'll find a five-second window where they're unsupervised, and suddenly all the Oreos have disappeared from the pantry, they're trying to knock down the ceiling fan, and something's on fire.

Then, one day, when he's just hit 10 or 11, he gets sick. Really sick.

Mista and Narancia catch on pretty quickly, because he's suddenly lethargic and uncharacteristically quiet. But they take him to the doctor, give him medicine, let him sleep as much as he needs to, but as the days go by, his condition only worsens, until he's in near-constant tears from the pain.

Mista gets extremely paranoid and thinks he's done something wrong. Finn wasn't born in April, or on the fourth of a month, but maybe there was a four of significance somewhere? Maybe he'd forgotten to give him lunch one day? Maybe he'd broken some rule he hadn't yet known about?

But Narancia's the one that proposes the idea - maybe he's a natural born stand user, and, moreover, he'd inherited it from Mista? After all, during the encounter that sent him to prison, there was something deflecting those bullets. Maybe he would have eventually awoken a stand power, even without the stand arrow?

This doesn't make him feel much less guilty, but it gives him hope, at least. He prays a lot, and they seek help from Fugo and Giorno (who had already dealt with this issue with Viola), and, one day, the illness is gone, and Finn has a stand.

His stand is called The Four Tops.

Mista is not thrilled.

It doesn't make him love his son any less, though. Instead, he just becomes very overprotective, worried that the number that had always haunted him had now moved on to curse his child. He teaches Finn how to use a gun and fight without his stand, so that he doesn't have to encounter the unlucky number four more than he has to. While Finn doesn't have an aversion to four on the same level as his dad, he's still a bit skittish about it, and takes a bit after his Uncle Fugo, in that he only uses his stand when necessary.

I'm still developing more lore for him, so one of these days, I'm planning on making a little profile post for him and Viola. They are bouncing around in my brain like a DVD screensaver rn.

#also idk what exactly the four tops does yet. i just wanted to give him a motown stand and i was like. wait this would be so funny #sorry for number four cursing your son mista. it will happen again #jjba #naramis #jjba fankids #long post #ohhh i need to post the bucci gang adult designs too. but i actually have to draw to do that. sigh.

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onyxolay · 11 months

Text

Archie meets Kritten part 4: Nightmares

A few weeks later Kritten was turning and tossing in bed, he was having a nightmare for the third time that week.

In the small piglins dreams he was having a nightmare about being back in the nether, he was in the bastion surrounded by all the other piglins… The great Bungus stomped up to him wielding a large spiky hammer, meanwhile Uggub stood next to him, he held up a barely conscious Archie. “W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING….?!?” Kritten yelled, Both Bungus and Uggub just simply laughed at the weak piglin in front of them… Bungus spoke: “As you can see Kritten, we have your little boyfriend here..hehehe, and we’ve decided that to ensure you stay here and never escape again..that your boyfriend here DIES!” “NO!” “YES! HAHAHA!” Bungus cackled manically, “Just watch…~”. Bungus picked up Kritten and Uggub followed Bungus to a cliffs edge where a massive ocean of lava was visible beneath them… “N-no please…!” Kritten sobbed, he knew what was coming… “Please don’t kill him Bungus..! He’s the only friend I have..! I’ll be good I promise! I-I’ll stay here forever just..PLEASE DONT KILL HIM..!” Kritten was sobbing as he was just laughed at by everyone, they didn’t care at all. And then Archie is thrown into the ocean of Lava… “ARCHIEEEE!!!” Kritten screams, he gets loose of Bungus’s grip and jumps down too. As he falls he grabs Archie, before either of them can get a word in to each other they fall into the lava and Kritten wakes up in a cold sweat…

Kritten jolts up out of bed, he takes a few deep breaths and looks around in a panic. The house is dark and only the moonlight pouring through the window on the door lit anything up… Kritten slips himself into Archie arms and try’s to sleep again, Archie though shifts a little bit and wakes up and sees Kritten crying in his arms. “K-Kritten..? Hey man are you okay..? W..what’s the matter..?” “H-huh-? I’m sorry..I..didn’t mean to wake you up…” Archie hugged the crying piglin and patted his head while sitting up. “Hey there buddy..it’s okay, now tell me what happened?” Kritten looked away for a second, a tad bit embarrassed. “I-I had a nightmare…” Kritten dove under the covers again, afraid that Archie may make fun of him; but to Krittens surprise, Archie smiled sympathetically and hugged him again. “Aw I see…it’s okay buddy, you’re safe now it’s not real! Do you wanna tell me what happened the nightmare?” Kritten wasn’t sure how to explain it, but he tired his best.

“S-So we were in the n-nether and- we was in my old bastion… Bungus and Uggub somehow got a hold of you and said that sense I wouldn’t stay in the nether forever with them that T-they we’re gonna k-kill you..!” Archie was appalled at what he heard, but kept it cool as he didn’t wanna freak Kritten out any more than he already was. As the piglin cried in Archies arms Archie let Kritten cry into his chest and as Kritten did so Archie rubbed his back comfortingly. “Shh…Shh…it’s okay Kritten you’re safe now, we’re alive and safe…” “o-okay…” Archie got took the covers off of him and swung his legs off of the bed. “Hey Kritten,” “yes..?” “We still have some left over beef stew from the other night, would you like me to fix you some of that?” Archie rubbed the back of Krittens head and Kritten blushed. “S-sure, thank you…” “your welcome love!” “Lo- huh?!” Kritten blushed more, thinking it was perhaps just a slip of the tounge…

When the stew got done heating Archie gave the bowl of hot stew to Kritten. “Thank you so much Archie…you are truly gotta be the best person I’ve ever met..hehe!” “You to Kritten! I’ve never met someone who is so quite Literally just like me!” Kritten chuckled, “Well then I guess it was just destiny for us to meet each other Hm?” Archie laughed and hugged him. “Haha! I guess so!” Both boys just sat there and laughed, Both were still tired though. Archie scoots closer to Kritten and Kritten lays their head on Archies shoulder and smiles…

“Hey so are y’all gonna kiss or what?”

“AH!” Kritten jumps and almost spills his stew which causes Archie to jump and almost fall off the bed. They look over next to the fridge where the trap door was and see Ollie peeking through it. Archie asks: “Ollie! What the fuck kid I thought you were asleep!” “Well you see I heard you two talkin and I wanted to see what was goin on, plus I just wake up at these hours anyways. I thought you knew this already!” Archie face palms, “you’re right, you’re right.. I did.. sorry.. anyways, go back to bed!”

“I will!”

“Thank you..”

“Once I figure out what goin on up here!”

Archie face calms and sighs. “Kritten had a really bad nightmare so I heated up the stew and gave him a bowl and now I’m comforting him, now go to bed!!!” “Okay! Goodnight love birds!” Ollie drops down the hole and Archie waves. “Goodnight- wait- IM NOT DATING HIM!!! goodness gracious why does everyone keep saying that..! Anyways, sorry about him pal. Just finish your stew and go back to bed okay? And don’t worry about any morning chores, I’ll take care of then alright?” “B-“ “No buts, finish your food and go to bed.” “O-okay..and thank you.” “Your welcome Krit..”

Kritten had to admit, every time Archie said that they weren’t together they got a sad feeling inside of him; but they brushed their complicated feelings to side and finished their food, getting under the covers once again to sleep…

This time when Kritten fell asleep, Archie had a dream. In this dream, Archie and Kritten were running in a field some where looking for something. They had eyes of Ender so Archie had figured that they were looking for and end portal. For what reason Archie was unsure, that was until Kritten screamed from afar: “ARCHIEEEE!! I FOUND IT!!” Archie laughed and went to the spot and the two started to dig. They dig down for a long time and Archie feels like the ground around them is heating up, “wait what-!” And as the last block of dirt is digged up Archie and Kritten fall into the nether…

Archie now wakes up in cold sweat, he was more confused if anything though. He hears some ruckus outside of their house, but then he goes to see what is happening all he sees is a lot nether portal right in front of their home….

@multifandomidiot01 I’m just gonna start tagging you in these lmao

#minecraft #good stuff #minecraft au #archie #au #minecraft dungeons #cute #lucasolay #rise of the arch illager #arch illager #illager #minecraft illager #minecraft legends #nightmare #comfort

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

Text

panic scampered through their veins

masterlist - next

hello everybody and welcome back to my hitherto unnamed empires smp superpowers au! there are two previous parts of this story called 'tenacious trajectory' and 'dissonant air'. please heed the warnings at the beginning of each chapter and the tags above - this is a very heavy story. so who's ready for some more jimmy angst huh??

taglist will be in the rb!

cw: medical experimentation, drugging, kidnapping, needles/IVs, failed medical experiments, resuscitation, food, depression, medical equipment and machinery

Jimmy wakes up, rolls over, and falls.

That’s more unexpected than anything, to be honest. His mattress is on the floor; it shouldn’t be as far of a fall as that just was. So he blinks open his eyes, squinting in confusion at the room around him.

And then dread fills his entire being.

This isn’t his room. This isn’t his apartment. This isn’t that boxcar in the junkyard he sometimes stays in because his apartment’s power has gone out or something.

This is a grey concrete room, a heavy-looking door with a rectangle window inset the only way out. The bed he’s just fallen from is a bunk jutting out of the wall. There’s a sink and toilet in the corner. In his arm is a taped-over IV.

He’s back.

At first, he forces himself to take a few breaths. This isn’t the first time this has happened—he’s been trapped in nightmares of imprisonment, woken to hallucinations, experienced prolonged flashbacks over the past few months. This is just one of those.

But it’s not one of those. There’s grime in his hair, his mask pinching his face, clothes the strange mix of vaguely-superhero looking articles and whatever spare Codfather costume pieces he could dig up. He can feel too much; his vision isn’t sharp enough for it to be a nightmare, not blurry enough for a flashback. Most importantly, this isn’t the same room as last time. There wasn’t any sort of plumbing the first time (Jimmy shudders as he remembers the pain of removing his own catheter), the door on the other side.

Jimmy’s been kidnapped. Again.

And before he can process anything else, several people enter the room and push him back to the floor, hold him there while someone clips a syringe into his IV. It’s only moments before he’s unconscious.

When he wakes again, aching and bleary, someone is running their hands through his hair. He shudders, forces himself back into sleep.

When he wakes for a third time, he’s in the worst pain he’s ever been in. Everything hurts so terribly, right down to his bones, his skin is so dry and he’s so cold but so hot and he doesn’t know what’s happening, and somebody is screaming—

“Stop, stop, it isn’t working! I said stop! Replace it with fluids, his body can’t take it!”

“But the boss said—”

“They’ll be much less happy if they lose their pet, so fix this now or so help me—”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and Jimmy’s eyes jolt open—did he drop his phone? He dropped his phone, or maybe it was a window, or a TV, or—

The world is too bright, there’s so much noise, he can’t focus on anything but the pain—

Jimmy’s been spending too much time unconscious for his own security. He’s not even sure what they’ve done to him—he’s in fairly constant agony, right down through his bones, but what else is new?

He was able to stay awake for the most recent session, finally. After whatever had gone wrong that first day, they’ve been moving relatively slowly. Only two days ago had they built up to the skin grafting that had been so commonplace mere months ago. Today they had brought in a strange tubular machine that he had to lie still in for hours—something that would have been a struggle for him had he not already hit the point of exhaustion that forces him to be still to conserve what little energy he might have. All in all, it was a bit of a much-needed break. He had dozed slightly, aware of his surroundings but not totally conscious, only fully registering his own presence when they pressed some new medication into his IV. They’re talking of inserting a port. He hopes they don’t.

Right now he’s in his cell, lying on the bed for a change. He thinks they’re monitoring him here as well, but he doesn’t exactly have any proof. All he has is the vague sensation of being watched. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like any of this.

He thinks he’s depressed.

Not to say that he wasn’t depressed last time, because he was. And not that he thinks depression is an unusual response to this sort of situation. But whereas before, he had the presence of mind to want to escape and actually carry out, he’s not sure that he would anymore. He feels so tired. He escaped once, but what good did that do him? He ended up back here anyways. It’s probably futile. He accepts that pretty easily—he thinks he ought to be more upset, but he just doesn’t have the energy.

So Jimmy lies in bed or on the floor day after day, lacking both the strength and the motivation to do anything. He doesn’t want to die, of course he doesn’t want to die, but he’s so very tired.

Instead of giving in to the sleep that drags on his bones, though, he rolls out of bed, drinks some water straight from the faucet in the corner. They’ve thrown him some jerky of some sort and a bruised apple, both of which he’s never been able to stand, but there doesn’t seem to be much of a choice, so he chokes down the jerky and half of the apple before falling asleep on the floor.

He wakes on the table, bright lights shining in his eyes. Xornoth is there, he registers after a few seconds, one hand on his shoulder, the other writing something. The pen scratches close to Jimmy’s ear and he represses the urge to shudder.

“Hello, Solidarity,” Xornoth murmurs once they notice he’s awake. He looks down at himself when his thigh pricks with pain; a man is slowly pressing a terrifying instrument of needlepoints into him. “Lovely to see your eyes.”

Jimmy closes his eyes reflexively, opens them again when Xornoth laughs.

“A joker, are we? I ought to have guessed, after that little stunt you pulled last time. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that. You will be punished, pet.”

Jimmy swallows, blood running cold. So he’s going to be kept around long enough to be expected to learn from a punishment. He had sort of assumed that once they have all they need, they’ll get rid of him (he’s imagined ways both unsavory and not, and he’s not sure which is more likely). That doesn’t seem to be the case.

The implications of being called Xornoth’s pet are starting to catch up to him.

It’s an important day in the lab, but Jimmy’s not sure why.

There’s a billion wires attached to him, all of which feed into unknown machinery. Some of them have clear uses—the one connected to the five sticky patches on his bare chest is some sort of heart monitor. Others are completely unknowable, such as what feels like a board of pins pressing into his lower back, reminiscent of an allergy test he got as a kid.

The scientists are talking quietly, tension thicker than soup. Jimmy lets his eyes flutter closed until the headache caused by the lights, temporarily relieved by the darkness of his eyelids, builds back up; then he lets them fall open again. One man gives him a sympathetic glance, but no one offers to dim the lights or give him a cloth to cover his eyes with or anything. He doesn’t ask for anything. He hasn’t spoken apart from cries and screams since he first woke up here, which, judging by last time, could have been a month ago. It could have been longer.

He squints his eyes, but that doesn’t help the headache at all. Nobody seems to notice. He’s an object, something to be worked on, not worked with. He’s long understood that these people don’t exactly see him as a person.

It’s hard to retain his humanity when he’s treated more like an animal. They inserted a catheter without even warning him just days ago. They won’t tell him what any of the procedures mean, what they’re doing, how it will affect him. They never ask him how something feels, how he thinks he’s going to react to something—which had been bad recently, when Jimmy could have told them he’s allergic to zinc if they had asked before applying it on his skin. There are still hives on the inner side of his arm.

“It’s not going to work,” one scientist bemoans, breaking him out of his thoughts. “We haven’t been able to catch a trace of what Sims did. We don’t know enough yet.”

“Yeah, well, they’re getting impatient. We haven’t got a choice.”

“They’ll kill us when this fails!”

“They’ll kill us if we don’t try! We have to at least get some sort of results from this—whether it’s just as much as Sims found, some sort of confirmation, or if we make a breakthrough. As long as progress shows, we’ll be fine.”

Talk about soap opera, Jimmy thinks blearily. He wonders if he’s going to be able to fall asleep during whatever they do. Sometimes they force him to stay awake, sometimes the pain does that anyway. Otherwise, if he can drift off he will. It feels easier that way, to be violated so while asleep. Less like it’s something he might be able to prevent.

The scientists around him seem to converge, their prep wrapping up. Everyone appears to have a job, all in surgical gear.

“All right, Flanagan’s on resus, Jordan’s got defib on standby,” the woman closest to Jimmy says, placing a bowl of cotton swabs and another of clear liquid beside him. “Macy, you’ve got an eye on the readings?”

A woman across the room calls out an affirmative. The one next to Jimmy takes a deep breath, then nods to a man that Jimmy hadn’t noticed thus far—a man who is currently screwing a syringe into his IV. He presses the plunger down, something cold races up Jimmy’s arm, up his shoulder, up his neck—

He can smell blood, he can taste oranges, his head swells and shoots off across the room and—

Jimmy’s eyes roll up into his head. The heart monitor flatlines.

Jimmy comes to slowly, his head hurting worse than it ever has before. It’s pounding through his entire body, down each stiff limb, shaking his bones and rattling his brain.

The moment he thinks he might throw up, he does.

There are loud noises, scarily loud noises, noises that make everything worse and he’s choking until somebody tilts his head to the side, whacks his spasming back. There’s very little vomit, and it’s not long until his airway is clear and he can open his eyes.

It’s far too bright and he cries out, vision blurring and painful. He’s not sure where he is, he doesn’t know what’s happening, he doesn’t want to be here, he wants his mom. . . .

“Fever!” someone close to his ear shouts. “We’ve got a fever, might be . . . put him. . . .”

Jimmy’s hearing stutters and blinks out, then he’s drifting away to sleep.

Jimmy doesn’t have the energy to move for three days after they kill him.

It takes him a little while to piece together the memories he has of the event in order to somewhat understand what happened, but when he does he’s shocked. They killed him, his heart stopped (according to the report he read over the shoulder of a scientist while they peeled the sticky pads off his chest), and then they resuscitated him. And frustratingly, he doesn’t know why. He has no clue why it was necessary, what they could have gained. All he knows is that he hopes it never happens again, although he may have some sort of bragging rights if he ever gets out of here. Something good to whip out in two truths and a lie.

Not that he has anybody he regularly talks to.

They give him a break, though. Any time he’s in the lab, all they’re doing is observing. Mostly they let him rest in his cell for a few days, give his body time to reconcile with life. As horrid a thing as it is, Jimmy’s grateful for it. He’s so tired that he mostly just sleeps.

When he has moments of wakefulness to think, he feels hopeless. Last time, he might’ve considered escape routes. Now, he just counts the cracks on the ceiling and hopes that if it ends, it ends soon.

There’s nothing for him here. Nothing but pain and grey walls and exhaustion settled in his bones. He just wants it to be done. He wants to stop watching the door, dreading the moment it opens. He wants to sleep without fear of waking on a table, masked men cutting into him. He doesn’t even want out, he just wants it all to be over.

His own life isn’t in his hands, though. His brush with mortality has proved that. He doesn’t get a say in when he dies, nor if he gets to stay dead. He doesn’t get a say in anything.

Jimmy’s got no idea how long he’s been here. He does know that nobody’s noticed his absence. He knows that there’s no one in the world who cares about him. He’s made sure of that.

He knows he’s never getting out.

#esmp #empires superpowers au #empires smp #mcyt #jimmy solidarity #mas writes #i posted this one on ao3 a bit earlier!!#my ao3 is linked in my bio if you want to read it there #empires fanfic #what else do i usually tag on these #like scott's not really featured much in this one #so i didn't want to tag him or fh since it's pre-relationship #yall are already being so nice on ao3 abt this one :D #i was excited for it too ngl #unfortunately: this will end on a bit of a cliffhanger #that's on me #ok lmk what you guys think!!#love you guys

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lovesanmotion · 3 years

Text

mafia!ateez reacts: s/o dying in their dreams

💌 This is: Requested

Hongjoong:

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, unaware of the beads of sweat trickling down his skin as he watches you get shot in the head, watching your body fall down the on the ground with a thud. His eyes immediately flew open as he felt a hand gripping his shoulder, shaking him violently. He scanned his eyes around the room, it was dark, hot (for him at least) and there was you in your silk bedroom gown with a worried look on your face. Immediately, Hongjoong threw himself onto you and tackled you into a tight hug. He didn't say anything but just kept you in his arms, hugging you closely to his chest. The dream felt so real, but he was glad that you pulled him away from it. He didn't know what would happen if you really did get shot, no, he shouldn't be thinking of that. His hold on you gets tighter and finally his mind would be put into ease as you wiped the sweat away from his forehead and hugged him back.

Seonghwa:

He extended his right hand clutching on the pistol tightly. He has his guard on as he investigates the abandoned warehouse alone, but with his men standing on guard outside for any surprise attackers. With slowly steps he opens each door of every room, but found nothing. On the last door, he felt an uneasy feeling as he approached towards it. He couldn't explain this feeling creeping on his skin, but as he opened the door, his legs almost gave up on his and he slowly slid down on the door with a shattering heart. The image of you laying down on your bloodied stomach and eyes closed pricked hot tears in Seonghwa's eyes. He crawled his way to you, lifting you up in his arms, craddling you and cried his heart out. Unaware to his conscious self, Seonghwa was crying in his sleep and you couldn't help but look at him in confusion before tapping his forearm to wake him up. When he opened his eyes, he stopped crying and stared at you. Blinking to himself, he processed everything around him. A few choked sobs escapes his lips as he slowly sits up from the bed and hugs you tightly. Telling you his dream and promising you that no harm will ever come upon you.

Yunho:

Yunho's blood boiled as he saw your condition - you were in the corner of the room, wrists and ankles binded with a rope, a piece of cloth stuffed inside your mouth and Yunho didn't missed the chance to see your tear stained cheeks, shrivelled hair and the dark purple bruises on your arms and legs, obviously from the beatings that you received to get him to their house. Unaware to his conscious self, Yunho's breathing got deeper and ragged, his fists clenching and knuckles turning into white. To his anger in his dream, he raised his left hand and punched the lamp, waking you up from your sleep. You raised an eyebrow and turned your head to look at Yunho. His eyebrows furrowed and his hands still clenching, you knew immediately that he was dreaming, turning your body to face him and lay down on his forearm with an arm wrapped around him. Yunho woke up with a weight on his arm and stomach, opening his eyes, he found you sleeping besides him. He slowly steadied his breathing before turning to his side, wrapping his arms around you tightly and resuming his sleep.

Yeosang:

The sight of your lifeless body on the cold ground brought tears in his eyes and his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. He was too late to save you, and he would never ever forgive himself. He will forever live to feel the regret and pain. As he held your lifeless body in his arms, he felt the spout of a gun being pointed in his temple, with a click, a bullet pierced through his head. Yeosang immediately opened his eyes and sat up straight on the bed. His breathing heavy and ragged, eyes scanning his surroundings. He couldn't form any words in his mouth, but his words came to flood his mind. He immediately turned to his side and found you still asleep, facing him. Closing his eyes, a sigh of relief escape his lips. He laid back down in bed, pulling you in his arms, running a hand down on your hair and whispering all the promises he would do for you.

San:

In his dream, he found you unconscious by the shore. All the color in you faded into pale white and unmoving. He didn't cared if his clothes were getting drenched by you, he moved a few strands of your wet hair away from your face, placing an ear near your nose and mouth to check if you were still breathing. When he couldn't make out a sound, a small, choked out sob escaped his lips, his hands gripping on your arm and knee. What would the point of living be now that you're gone? The source of his happiness, the reason why he gets up everyday and the one who makes him feel complete. A small sound escaped his lips and slowly he fluttered his eyelids open. The sudden change in scenario confused him, now he is in his room, dark and cold. It had been a dream, right? He turned to your side, seeking your comfort but noticed how the space beside him is empty. San bit his lower lip, a few tears escaping his eyes. He got up from the bed and looked for you everywhere, but his feet stopped by the kitchen as he saw you sitting on one of the wooden stools drinking a cup of hot tea. His vision gets more blurry but he could feel your arms wrapping around him and a hand rubbing his lower back.

Mingi:

It was a beautiful, sunny day. After the beautiful ceremony, Mingi went away quickly from your side to talk to his men if anything was suspiscious. When he heard that nothing was detected, Mingi took out a bottled red wine and poured himself. Raising his glass to you as you gossiped with your friends inside. And in one quick motion, the church bursted into flames, creating a loud explosion. Everyone scurried away from the burning place except Mingi. He never saw you got out of the place and fear got him that you might be inside. To his assumption, he was correct. A marble white column of the church had fallen on top of you. Mingi, so heartbroken and devastated let out a menacing scream. He stirred in his sleep, realizing that he was gritting his teeth, hands forming into fists and his jaw tightening. When he woke up, his breathing became normal again and he was back in his room with you still sleeping in front of him. Mingi laid down on his back first and tried to erase his dream. He would never let anything fall onto you and promised that he would always be by your side. He turned to his side and admired your sleeping form.

Wooyoung:

Before he was told where you are located, he was given a single instruction that he must do in order to locate you. And that simple instruction is to shoot the large bag in front of him, Wooyoung got carried away and used almost all of his bullets. When he was done, he was told that you were inside a bag. Confused, Wooyoung didn't know which bag was the person talking about. Until it hit him, there was only one bag with him and is placed in front of him. With a shaky hand, Wooyoung walked closer and found blood sipping out of the leathery bag. Tears pricked his eyes as he couldn't bring himself to open the bag and see your bloodied figure. He didn't know what pained him more: him being the cause of your death or him being the reason why you're dead. A part of you lives in Wooyoung, and Wooyoung felt that large part of you die along with you. When he suddenly opened his eyes, he momentarily stopped breathing and was met with a dark room, staring up at the dark ceiling. The soft sounds of waves crashing and the fresh air coming in and out of the room and most especially, your eyes staring up at him. He knew his sudden movement caused you to wake up with him. He shook his head and embraced you tightly in his arms. Not wanting to tell you what he had just dreamed of.

Jongho:

One wrong move, he though to himself, he could lose you. But his growing anxiety to the idea of you being locked up in their base, who knows what could they be doing to you? Jongho took it upon himself and brought everything he needed inside a bag before setting off, alone. But on his arrival, he found the doors wide open. Thinking that it was a trap, Jongho warily entered. Tossing the bag full of grand, he opened each other, hoping that it would lead to you. The last door was sealed shut and Jongho had to use force. Upon opening the door, his eyes widened at the sight of your hanging body. Jongho immediately stood up on the chair and pulled you down, hoping that he still has time. But as he brought you down and checked your pulse, there was no sign of breathing or any other movement. Jongho sighed frustratedly, unaware of the tears brimming down his face as he hugged your still body to his chest. When Jongho suddenly opened his eyes, the bright rays of the sun beamed into the room, turning his head to the other side, he found you still sleeping, the rays of the sun creating a golden halo on top of your head. He frowned to himself and wrapped his arms protectively around you, glad that he was awake from his nightmare.

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kiwibirbs-library · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

a/n: so like.. uhh... how’s your day? Cause mine said work and think of this babe the whole time. Oh you too? Cool cool.

YALL THIS IS AFTER I WROTE THIS ITS SO LONG OMG OK I NEED TO GO READ THROUGH WOW

Pairing: Keith kogane x reader

Warning: uhh nightmares ya ya that. That’s it

Summary: you get nightmares, fairly bad done at that. And one night you just can’t do it anymore and go to the nearest occupied room. And suddenly it becomes a tradition.

You were rescued from a prison break. The only thing that made you special was that your entire planet was massacred and you had absolutely nowhere to go.

That was almost 6 months ago.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. In a near empty room of the castle, trying to fall back asleep. This was the fifth time you had a nightmare this week. This was the fifth time you had had to relive the vivid torture. The fifth time you’ve been curled up in a ball, tears streaming, trying to just breath through it.

After about 10 minutes you sat up. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep going off of two hours of sleep. You really couldn’t keep hearing Shiros ‘you ok?’ Every morning when you showed up looking like the living dead.

You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around yourself before waking to the door. The faded walking lights were enough to keep you from hitting anything as you stopped at the nearest door. Hopefully it was someone who could help you. Just to talk to if you could. In other words— as much as you enjoy him— not Lance. You gulped as you knocked on the door. You weren’t expecting it to open as soon as it did.

Keith stood in the open door way, rubbing an eyes slightly as his vision adjusted to see you clearly.

“Y/n?” His voice was raspy from not talking for a while.

“Um hi,” your voice broke in the middle. His brows furrowed as he noticed your stained cheeks and red nose.

“Are you ok?” He squinted at you a bit, still not completely able to see you.

“Uh actually could I um... stay here for a bit.... please,” it all came out whimpery and cracked. You felt kind of pathetic. You half expected him to tell you where Shiro was and go back to sleep with how long he took to respond. But no. He backed up a bit and gave you room to come in. You smiled a little up to him and shuffled in. He sat on his bed and watched you slightly as you made your way down to the floor.

He didn’t exactly know why but he didn’t like the idea of you laying there. It was clean sure, and he definitely would have let anyone else sleep there, but he couldn’t in good conscious just leave you there. Especially with how red and wet your face was when you passed him. He cleared his throat a bit and you looked up at him from your spot. He patted the mattress beside him and you got the idea, getting up and sitting next to him.

“So... what’s wrong?” He looked at your hands as they twisted into each other. You bit your lip.

“Um well, lately I’ve been having these.. um... nightmares. There of the time in the prison. And the um... things that happened,” you gulped. There was a slight pause.

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk if you can’t,” Keith sighed a bit. You looked over to him to find a surprising look of worry on his face. You were taken aback by how understanding he looked. From what you knew of him he was that loner of the group, the one that didn’t talk much and did his own thing, only worrying about himself (and Shiro as you observed). But sitting next to you wasn’t someone that didn’t know feelings of others. It was more like someone who could understand what was happening with you.

“I get nightmares too you know. Of course I’ve never been tortured like you or Shiro were, but they still get to me pretty bad,” he said bluntly, leaning back on his hands. You sighed and brought you knees to your chest, a tired look in your eyes. “You can go to sleep if you want, it would be good for you,” he said without looking at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled a little. “You know, your a lot nicer than I thought you would be one on one,” you laid down slowly.

“I’ll take that as a complement?” His words had the slightest sound of amusement with them. It brought a calming blanket down on you.

In no time your were completely knocked out, Keith leaning up against the wall, also falling asleep as he made sure you didn’t wake up.

~~~~

There was a vibrating from under your head, waking you up. You weren’t fully awake as you felt the air on your skin without opening your eyes. You felt something come underneath the pillow and stop the movement before leaving. Your brows furrowed slightly as you moved even closer to wherever the thing had come from. Without moving much you hit something, immediately running a hand down the back of it before falling back to sleep.

Keith was also awakened by a vibrating. More than you obviously as this was his alarm every morning. So when he turned it off to keep you to sleep and you moved closer he very much noticed. And then your hand ran down his back and made him shiver. He was a blushing mess. He couldn’t even say anything as you stuffed your face into his chest and stayed asleep. Without even knowing it he was smiling at you, moving some hair from your face before he thought about it. You pushed yourself forward a little more, turning him onto his back as you used him as a body pillow. For the first time in a while he had to hold back a laugh at the movement.

You both stayed like that for almost an hour before you groggily got up finally. When you saw the position you immediately started apologizing for what happened. He waved you off, his normal stern face back as he sat up and met you in the middle of the room.

“Calm down its fine, I don’t really care. Anyways we should leave, we’re about to have the morning meeting,” as if the castle could hear him the intercom turned on with a loud beep and Alluras voice came on.

“Meeting time! Hunk made food as well,” and she was gone. You smiled at the idea of Hunks cooking.

“Oh shoot I need to change,” you looked down to your pajamas.

“Meh Lance Never does don’t worry about it,” in truth Keith was just stalling to continue seeing you in them. He really didn’t understand why but he liked the sight. You both left his room before walking the halls to kitchen. Mostly everyone was there, the only one not was Lance unsurprisingly. You waved a bit as you took a seat next to Pidge, Keith to you. They looked at you both with a smile before going back into their talk about something technical.

You tried to listen as you ate but your thoughts drifted to the night before and this morning. A light pink hit your face at the thought. You smiled a little as you put the spoon to you mouth.

~~~~

These sleepovers quickly became something usual. In some instances you wouldn’t even go back to your room, just straight to his with him. At one point he told you to bring some clothes over to change so now you had your little pile in the corner of dresses and shirts. The most awkward part of it would have to when you both began cuddling consciously. You felt hot as Keith put a very hesitant arm on you, his constant ‘is this ok?’s making you laugh a bit.

You didn’t know when but at some point you started taking the sessions in for more. You would always smile at the thought of Keith. Your eyes would always wonder the room in search of him. If the found his you would gaze for a moment before looking away.

Keith knew exactly when he took after hours for more. He knew exactly what he was doing when went to his room at the end of the night, waiting impatiently for you to show up. He knew exactly what he wanted when he asked you to bring some clothes over, his idea for you to spend more time there working amazingly.

The day you got found out though was the most embarrassing moment of your life. Even worse than Pidge calling you out for staring at the boy. For one thing you were more tired than usual that morning due to training the previous day. So while reaching for a pair of leggings you missed and grabbed Keith’s spare sweatpants. Honestly you didn’t even think about how big they were as you threw on your jacket and left. Keith had left before you to meet with Shiro so you were alone and the first in the breakfast hall. By the time you stood up everyone was there as well. Keith’s hand flew to his face to hide the bright red that flushed his face when he noticed. He wasn’t going to say anything, he didn’t really want to. He would have to resist the urge to hide your normal pjs in favor of you wearing his for the next week.

“Aren’t those a little big on you?” Pidge commented.

“Huh?” You looked down and blushed a bit at the clothing. “O-oh ya, haha. Um i saw them at the mall we went to the other day and picked them up,” you coughed.

“Wow really those look like what Keith was wea—“ Lances mouth was covered and his head was dragged down by Keith’s arms. Everyone looked between you two with skeptical look before you slip out the door with a ‘well then’.

That was the catalyst of Lance following Keith to his room and hour later. He was droning on about something when Keith stopped in front of his door. He never had time to clean up this morning. Your clothes were probably still scattered in different areas. He cleared his throat.

“What?” He looked to Lance you was waiting patiently for the door to open.

“Oh I wanted to see what your room looked like. I’m bored and have nothing to do today,” he gave a dramatic sigh. Keith blocked the door.

“No.”

“Whaaat?? Why nooooott? How long have we known each other? Shouldn’t we have more trust????” Lance whined. “Besides whaaat Y/n in here the other day?”

“No,” Keith stayed. Then you came down the hall. You had went to your room in search of a pair of pants before realizing they were still sitting on the edge of Keith’s dresser. Maybe your other jacket was still on his bed if you were lucky. When you saw Lance you made a turn to leave the way you came too late.

“Y/n?” Lance called. You stopped and turned back to him.

“Hey Lance, what’s up?” You smiled a bit and walked a little closer. Keith was happy to hear your voice but also bit his lip at the predicament. You were probably looking for your favorite leggings. The ones you left here the other night. Bad timing.

“Oh I was wanting to see inside Keith’s room! What about you?” You continued talking to Lance, at one point giving Keith a side glance to say to go in. He quickly slipped into his room and started picking up your things and hastily putting it places, most went under his bed. In all honesty he didn’t mind too much about everyone finding out about your sleepovers. He did mind however about the teasing that would come with it.

The door clicked and slid open, Lance walked in with a nervous you glancing around after him.

“Wow it’s so boring in here,” Lance sighed, draping himself over on top of you. “There’s nothing in here how do you live like thi—“ he stopped when he looked over the floor. He saw something light blue poking out from under the bed. Keith tensed when lance moved it out with his foot. The jacket dragged out a few more clothes with it, all definitely not Keith’s and very obviously yours.

“Y/n did you know your clothes are— OH MY GOD NO WAY!!” He jumped away from you and looked between you and the mullet boy. “YOU TWO ARE A THINGGG??”

“No no we’re not!” You held up your hands and tried to explain. You missed Keith’s small and inaudible ’yet’.

“Then why are your clothes here? Are there more?!” Lance asked, gesturing to the small pile on the floor.

“Um well, sleepovers?” You rubbed your hands together. Lance turned to Keith.

“What does that mean?”

“Well what do you think a sleepover means? Honestly,” he crossed his arms. Lance turned back to you.

“How many times??”

“Ah ha ha um... multiple?” You looked over to Keith to find he was already watching you. You whipped back to Lance. As if the universe told you you weren’t getting out of this easy, Pidge and Hunk passed by the open door. They peered in a you heard a little laugh.

“He finally figured it out? Hah we knew weeks ago,” the small girl laughed a little, pushing her glasses up.

“You two knew?!!!” Lance whined as he left the room to join those two in the hall. Keith, quicker than you would have thought, moved and pressed a button to close and lock the door. You heard a muffled ‘hey’ before footsteps that eventually faded away. He sighed. You gave a little laugh.

“That your first choice in hiding?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” he gave you a smile and a glance before flopping down on his bed with a groan. “This is why no one comes in here.”

“Aww I feel so special,” you giggled again as you climbed on top of him. You laid you head down as he dragged you completely on top of him. “By the way, about what Lance said.” Keith looked down to you. “What are we anyway?”

“Well, I’d prefer the privileges of boyfriend all the time. But if you wouldn’t then I don’t mind waiting,” you put yourself up on your arms at his directness.

“What?”

“What?” He repeated.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the closed off feelings guy? What was that?” You look at him bewildered.

“I will not hesitate to leave you here alone,” he gave you a playful glare. “Answer my sentence though.”

“What?”

“Do I get privileges?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you looked away before sitting up fully. “You get to tell everyone though,” you smiled a bit.

“Ugh why,” he groaned and put his head to the side. His hands naturally rested on your hips. You both had been doing this so long you never even took it as something weird with the way you straddled him. You laughed a bit at him when he pinched your sides a bit.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” he smiled before pulling you a little closer and finally doing what he had been wanting to for the past month, finally kissing you.

#voltron #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #Keith x reader #lance #Pidge #hunk #shiro #Allura #Coran #team voltron #voltron fanfiction

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