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blu3-tea · 2 days

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Gift - G/t - Part 2

Part 1: click here

TW: Pet trope, swearing.

Premise: A world in which genetically engineered tinies or Littlins are viewed as pets. Ellen is gifted one on her grandpas' birthday party, as she had graduated the week before.

Word count: 1,505

Note: more parts are coming!

………………………………

Ellen sulked her way back to the dining room, million of thoughts swirling inside her mind.

She cannot keep a littlin pet person. She was not ready to face the daunting anxiety of living with such a fragile tiny person. How could she move around the apartment without the horrifying thought of crushing the girl under her slipper? Sooner or later, Ellen would get employed. How could she type away at work whilst the girl stayed stuck at some table’s surface unable to get off on her own in the case of an emergency? She made a mental note to search for any solutions online to that problem.

“So, how is it?”

Ellen almost dropped the halfway-filled glass she was staring at blankly. “What? What did you say?”

“Oh, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” Her mom teased “I asked how your new pet is. Isn’t she just adorable?”

“Ah, yes. Sure, she is.”

“Did you give her a name already? I have some suggestions. Penny or Daisy. They fit her just right, don’t you think?”

“They sure do…” she twirled nonchalantly the glass, forming a little whirlpool in the middle. She hoped that the girl was doing alright.

“Don’t fret about it too hard.” - she got up - “give me a hand with the dishes will you?”

“Of course.”

They gathered all the plates and cutlery, and began loading the dishwasher together. From the kitchen she could hear the tv playing and abrupt commentary. Ellen should have probably given something to the littlin to pass the time. As she tried to figure out what kind of entertainment someone her size would enjoy, her mom’s rambling about some miniature multiple-story houses she had seen on social media distracted her.

“They have working lights and running water!”

“Mhm.”

Ellen realised that she would need another solution to the expenses involved. She had seen in person the three digit numbers on the price tags of miniature items. Yet, she could not bring herself to keep the hamster cage- it just looks so uncomfortable.

“The moment I saw her I knew that she would be the best choice for you. She’s the perfect tiny model to dress up.” She let out a chuckle.

A voice in her head told her that she did not necessarily have to keep the girl. She could just look after her until she found another pet store or person who would be willing and capable of keeping her. This could be a temporary thing.

“Aunt Jessica!” A shrill voice cried from behind, making both women to whip around alarmed.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“My truck is in your car. I forgot it there. Can you open it? Right now? Please!”

“Yes, of course. Give me a moment.” Jessica rubbed her hands dry. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Play with Mouse. Duh.”

“What mouse?” Ellen’s voice trembled slightly.

“Your pet.”

His answer hit Ellen in the gut like a ton of bricks. Fearing the worst, she bolted out of the kitchen.

Please, please, please be safe.

She rapidly climbed the stairs, two steps at a time, her heart pounding like drums in her chest.

They better not have dropped her.

Ellen practically flew inside the spare bedroom, to her horror left open.

“Put her down. Now.” Ellen growled.

………………………………

Nelly picked and tossed around the spruce shavings that covered her cage’s floor, high enough to collide with the overhead metal. Eventually, a noticeable lump of shavings concentrated somewhere in the middle of the compartment, a testament to her ever life-draining boredom.

“This is going to kill me…” she groaned.

Usually she would have slept through it, but the eagerness of securing her near future let her wide awake. Earning the giantess’ favour was earning a roof over her head and a full belly. Not only that, she would also be earning some well deserved alone free time, which the pet store had robbed her of. As of now, she was still working.

Nelly rested her head against the cage’s wall, facing upwards. She listened intently to the noises of chairs grating and shoes clacking on the floor downstairs.

Oh, if only she was not the size of a mouse she would be on her way to buy real food, visit the park or some other place, and make real friends. She has been a friend to several human children who were not and could never be her friends; people do not keep their friends in cages after all.

Nelly hugged her bent leg closer to herself. That is how things are for every littlin, none of them can ask for anything more than the basics just like her. Yet, in the stillness of the room, she longed for something so frustratingly beyond her reach- literally.

THUD THUD THUD

Footsteps interrupted her train of thought.

Finally! Let’s get this over with.

Supporting herself on the mesh, she got up, straightened her shoulders, pulled curly locks of her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. She looked as perfect as she could for her owner.

The colossal door creaked open at a snail’s pace. Two short figures stood at the threshold. Two children about the age of 10.

A look of hurt and disappointment crossed her face. All of her hopes of having a quiet few years, were shattered. The possibility of being given away to relatives had not even crossed her mind.

She was not prepared to be prodded and grabbed and pinched by their chubby fingers again. She could already feel ghosts of their digits push against her chest and tug her legs.

The children’s eyes widened in excitement and they approached, already bubbling about her.

“It’s so small! Just like a mouse.”

“It’s shorter than my dolls.”

“It could fit in my truck!” With that the boy run off.

Dread filled her as she knew exactly what he was planning to do. Nelly has had the unpleasant, nausea-inducing experience of riding on top of toy cars before.

I can’t go through this again.

With no hesitation the other one opened the overhead latch and reached a hand to grab Nelly. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She darted sideways, heart pounding, eyes wide, desperately trying to slip out of reach.

Greasy fingers as long as her body, encased her in a firm grip, way too firm. The world around her swirled, as she was lifted upwards fast, way too fast, close to her captor’s face, way too close.

The human girl’s mischievous face took up her whole vision. She frantically squirmed with all her might, despite the pain in her left leg, to slip and hide away from that familiar expression she knew led to excruciating ‘play time’.

Another hand approached Nelly’s hair. She jerked her head away from the advancing digits.

“Put her down. Now.” The deep guttural sound that the giant released sent shivers down Nelly’s spine.

The digits withdrew immediately. Her world spun again, as her captor turned around, clutching her close to her chest.

“But I’m not doing anything.”

“Natalie, put her back.”

“I don’t understand. Aren’t you supposed to play with it? Mom said that I could.”

“Well, she’s mine. Isn’t she?” That dried up Nelly’s mouth. Every human, no matter how nervous at first, was the same at the end of the day. “If you want to play with her you have to ask me first.”

“Ok.” Natalie nodded “Can I play with it? Please?”

“No, you cannot.”

“But I said please!” Nelly squeaked as the fingers around her tightened.

“Not today Nat.” Ellen sprawled her palm in front of Natalie “Give her back.”

“Fine.” Natalie spat out and hesitantly dropped her in Ellen’s soft palm. She fell uncomfortably face down and she took in a sharp breath. Another palm draped over her, covering her completely from view.

The “platform” bounced slightly up and down with each step, turning the insides of her stomach around, as if it were a washing machine.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen. I’m really sorry.” The giantess said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re going home now, ok? I’ll leave you in my car and I’ll be back with my things right after, yeah? I promise I’ll be super quick. Sorry.”

What the hell is going on.

Nelly curled around herself, her body trembling with confusion and frustration. The hands around her seemed to close in, their radiating warmth suffocating her. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, and a sob escaped her lips. She thought she could lie and manipulate to turn things in her favour for once. Hopelessness, just like the very first time, gripped its claws in her chest.

………………………………

Thank you for reading!

Tags list: @i-am-beckyu , @whumpinthepot , @heroofthe13thday

Part 3: (coming soon)

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t community #gianttiny #g/t writing #gt #gt community #giants #sfw g/t #gt angst #sfw gt #gt/tiny #gt writing

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coloursflyaway · 2 days

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Won't Fear Love (4/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.500

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

There is a crowd outside of the next location.

At least it isn’t teenagers, Edwin reasons with himself, while he lets Charles drag him there, hand in unenthusiastic hand. It seems more like an adult event, with middle-aged men and women laughing and mingling, which elevates his worries just slightly. “Where are we going, Charles?”, Edwin asks, and the smirk Charles shoots back at him is definitely disconcerting.

“Well, the last thing we did, that was for you”, Charles explains and it seems to Edwin that he is far too excited about this. “This one’s for me. But I promise, you’ll like it.” It’s only because he has the utmost trust in Charles that Edwin sets a foot inside the establishment. And maybe the hand that is still holding his.

It is a concert.

Edwin should have known, after all, this is where Charles usually goes to if he spends an evening alone. On several occasions in the past, he had asked Edwin to join him, but he had always declined, preferring the quiet of their agency and a good book to the chaos of live music. Especially the kind that Charles seems to enjoy most.

However, he has to admit that there is something about watching Charles here that is… captivating. Intriguing. Beautiful in its own way. Because Charles is happy here.

He weaves through the crowd with practised ease, glowing with excitement as he takes in their surroundings, mouthing along to the song that is playing through the stereo. Edwin can hardly make out the words, yet Charles seems to know them by heart.

Eventually, Charles stops at the back of the room, a few metres away from the bar, and turns around to face Edwin. “We don’t want to go up the front, there’s gonna be a lot of people once the band starts”, he tells Edwin, “And I hate it when they phase through me during a song, really takes me out of the whole thing. Also, we’ve a bit more privacy here, yeah?”

Edwin isn’t certain why they would need privacy, seeing as they are not visible to anyone around, but he still appreciates the sentiment – people phasing through them is quite unpleasant and proximity to the stage isn’t anything Edwin is keen on in the first place. So, he nods, and Charles smiles, and then does something cruel, heartless, unthinkable.

He drops Edwin’s hand.

It is strange how used to it Edwin has become in such a comparatively short time, holding Charles hand, to the point where he feels the lack of it now, because they are on a date and Charles is supposed to hold his hand.

Yet, instead he is rummaging through his backpack, letting out a tiny Ah! when he finally finds what he has been looking for. He’s smiling, almost a little shyly, and reaches out to grasp Edwin’s lapel, fixing something on it.

“I got you a pin”, he explains; his hand finds Edwin’s again and all is fine in the world. “Little bit like mine. So you won’t look so out of place in here with your fancy suit and your perfect hair. See?” And he points to the pin, a little circle in black and white. It really does resemble the chequered one Charles is wearing, only that the lines are less crisp and more of a wave, that there are little pink and yellow stars scattered between them.

It looks ridiculous against the blue tweed. Edwin never wants to take it off.

“Where did you even get this from?”, he asks, feeling almost dazed, and Charles grins, even as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating an answer Edwin might not be happy with. “Stole it”, Charles admits, and yes, Edwin should be cross with him, but it is very difficult to remember that than when Charles stole it for him. “From a Primark a couple of blocks down from the office. But don’t worry about it, it was maybe a quid. They won’t miss it.”

He’s right, and much more importantly, Edwin just cannot bring himself to care.

“Thank you”, he says softly, putting his hand across the pin and almost, just almost feeling the cool, smooth plastic against his skin. “I love it.”

The band starts playing only a little later, and Charles is so happy that Edwin forgets that he doesn’t particularly likes crowds, that this isn’t music he would listen to if he could choose, not even that Charles at some point in his dancing drops his hand. Because there is joy in every motion, every word he sings along with, loud and inaudible to anyone but Edwin, and watching him, Edwin thinks he might never have loved him more. He’ll go to a thousand concerts, listen to a million songs that don’t make sense to him, if he only gets to see Charles like this again.

The song changes, a piano playing, and it’s more mellow than what has come before, and Edwin expects Charles’ movements to become slower; what he doesn’t expect is for Charles to turn around to him, his hair framing his face in wild curls and hold out his hand. “Wanna dance? I think we should dance.”

“Dance?”, Edwin repeats, still too dazed by Charles’s joy to make sense of the words, and he doesn’t get to think about it for a minute longer, because Charles grasps his hand and pulls him in.

Edwin has danced before, but not like this: it had been stuffy classes his mother made him go to in the summer before he died, taught by a stern woman with a hazel switch that she would use to flick at her students’ feet if they missed a step. He had hated every second of it.

This, however, is so different it should not even be allowed to carry the same name.

Charles’ hand settles on Edwin’s hip, gently pulling and pushing him with the rhythm until Edwin gets the hang of it, smiling so wide that Edwin’s cheeks hurt in sympathy. The light is dim, yet his eyes sparkle, and although the music is so loud, Edwin can hear Charles’ laughter when he raises their hands to spin around, before returning to Edwin’s arms.

He moves like it’s as easy as breathing and Edwin is captivated, smitten, unable to look away. And they are so close, close enough that Edwin could count each of Charles’ lashes, close enough that he can make out every excited twitch of his lips. It would be the easiest, and the scariest, thing in the world to just lean in and…

The song changes.

“I never thought I'd miss you half as much as I do”, the singer croons and Edwin is close enough that he can see that Charles’ eyes go wide, his smile falter for a split-second, before he starts laughing.

“What is the matter?”, Edwin asks, confused by the sudden shift of atmosphere. The music is still playing, sounding almost the same, they are still dancing, but Charles is looking at him with an expression Edwin cannot describe, let alone understand.

“Just listen”, Charles tells him, and Edwin does.

The melody is quite pleasant, upbeat and maybe a little bit longing, and Charles is watching him listen; eager, maybe, interested, definitely.

“Every night, every day, I know that it's you I need to take the blues away“, the singer continues, and Charles ducks his head a little, then „It must be love, love, love…“

And Charles looks back up at him, and suddenly it feels like Edwin hadn’t been aware how close they are after all, even if he spent the last minutes thinking about nothing else. But they are so close, and this is a love song and they are dancing and Charles still isn’t moving away.

Instead, he is holding Edwin’s hand and watching him, his eyes curious and dark, and Edwin wants to kiss him so much it hurts.

“How can it be that we can say so much without words?”, the singer asks and Edwin thinks, yes. Thinks, please. Thinks, I would do anything for you. Thinks, I love you the most.

It’s only when Charles makes a little sound at the back of his throat that Edwin realises they have stopped moving, but before he can formulate a single thought, Charles is dragging him close. Slender arms wrap around Edwin’s shoulders, and Charles is hugging him so fiercely that Edwin can feel it, their astral bodies so close he can hardly tell where he ends and Charles begins. Without thinking, Edwin hugs him back, and Charles buries his face in the crook of his neck, and Edwin holds him, eyes slipping shut.

“It must be love, love, love”, the music still plays, “Nothing more, nothing less, love is the best.”

It’s no kiss, but it’s enough, more than that, even.

It’s love, and the kind really doesn’t matter.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles

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seiya-starsniper · 2 days

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Rating: Teen || Chapters: 2/5 || Word Count 3.5k/??

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

AO3 Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2 below, or using the link above on AO3!

--------------

Hob Gadling considers himself to be a rather open minded man. He's lived hundreds of years, and seen thousands of strange and unusual things in that same amount of time, so the chances of something catching him completely off guard are rather slim in the year 2024.

The last few days, however, have proven that there are still many, many things that can surprise him.

One of those things being one Charles Rowland, who is currently waving at Hob from the entryway of the New Inn.

Hob normally doesn't like to get involved in anything having to do with the supernatural, and especially not anything related to the type of work that Edwin and Charles do. He'd met them purely by chance after some asshole with delusions of grandeur had tried to frame him for a series of murders. He’d sent Edwin and Charles on a wild goose chase in a poor attempt to cover his own tracks.

Hob thought that once they caught the real murderer together and cleared things up, that would be the end of things. But then, Hob kept getting involved in their cases over the years, all of them entirely on accident. Eventually, somewhere between the fourth and fifth poltergeist, Hob decided he might as well figure out how to defend himself against supernatural entities, and maybe make himself useful for these poor boys too. They certainly needed all the help they could get.

Hob had been glad to hear that Edwin and Charles had recently gotten some sort of amnesty in exchange for continuing to help ghosts and other souls move on. It was good work, what these boys did. Hob has seen ghosts that haunted the same places for centuries finally be to pass on into the afterlife thanks to them. And now, they not only had permission to keep going, but had gotten more help to do it too.

The addition of Crystal to their little crew had been a surprise, and Jenny an even bigger surprise, though the latter seems less interested in solving cases, and more in making sure Crystal doesn't get herself killed in the process.

Still, Hob's only ever seen the teens all together in some sort of group, never alone, and he's definitely never seen Charles without Edwin. From the moment Hob had first met the two ghost boys, they’d always been a singular unit in his mind. And yet here Charles was, alone and looking strangely expectant while trying to appear casual as he waits for Hob to close out the tabs on the last remaining lunch hour patrons.

“Everything all right?” Hob asks when Charles approaches him once his last customer leaves.

“Of course!” Charles answers, his signature smile bright on display. “I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello. And to thank you again for the assist the other day.”

As a ghost, Charles is technically always in the neighborhood, so Hob knows that that’s not all that there is to his visit. It also hasn't escaped Hob's notice that Charles specifically picked the one day Jenny wasn't working the kitchen this week to drop by the pub. He clearly doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s here.

But Hob knows by now how to deal with skittish teenagers. Even dead ones.

“Well I'm almost done here and then I'm gonna head upstairs for a cuppa,” Hob says. Mark’s going to be here soon to relieve me of duty. Happy to have some company if you have the time to spare for an old man.”

“Oh! Yeah sure, I'm not busy,” Charles says, and cute that he’s still trying to pretend that he hadn’t come here with a purpose, when his eagerness is so clearly written all over his face. “Don't need any food though, as you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Hob replies, waving his hand dismissively so Charles can head upstairs ahead of him. He's going to make a cup of tea for Charles anyways. The boy always seemed to love the steam that came out of the mugs, even though he’d never admit it out loud.

Mark comes in exactly at 2:00pm, and Hob chats with him for a few minutes, before he clocks out and heads upstairs to his flat above the pub. Charles is already waiting for him in the living room, and Hob immediately sets to the task of warming up some hot water in the kettle and grabbing some mugs for tea.

“So how are things at the agency?” Hob asks as he waits for the water to heat. “Busy as ever, or more so now that you’ve got yourselves a psychic?”

“Definitely busier,” Charles says. “Crystal’s been a massive help with our cases, we're solving them even faster than before.”

“Good,” Hob replies, just as the kettle clicks, letting him know the water is done. “I’m glad she’s using her powers for good nowadays,” he adds as he brings the two mugs over to the couch. Charles looks surprised by the extra mug, but accepts it without a word. Hob doesn’t expect him to drink any of the tea, of course, but as predicted, Charles seems to fall into a trance watching the steam rise out of the cup.

“Thanks for not giving her too much of a hard time,” Charles says when Hob sits down in the recliner across from him. “She’s been really down on herself lately for everything in her past.”

“I can only imagine,” Hob agrees. He knew a thing or two about wanting to reinvent oneself and burning away the past. He’s had hundreds of years to do so after all. In fact, it could even be argued that Crystal was far ahead of where Hob would’ve been had he been in her shoes. The girl he’d met a few nights ago was so different from the one he’d met a year ago in court that Hob would’ve thought she had a twin instead.

“Seems like you two get along well,” Hob notes after a brief silence has passed. Charles perks up immediately, taking the opening in the conversation.

“We do,” Charles replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s amazing.”

“Yeah? So are the two of you a thing then?” Hob asks, and would you look at that, turns out ghosts can blush after all.

“I—maybe?” Charles says, his voice pitched higher with uncertainty. “I don’t know, actually. I mean, it's, well…complicated I guess?”

“How so?” Hob asks. He’d suspected there had been something going on between them, it was obvious in their body language, and how they gently teased one another throughout the night after the banshee had gone. Now Charles is talking like a man newly in love and completely besotted.

“Is she giving you mixed signals?” Hob follows up when Charles doesn't answer.

“No!” Charles exclaims, shaking his head. “It’s me really, I’m—I don’t know.” He sighs in frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought for a while that’s what I wanted and then Edwin—” he suddenly cuts himself off, a small amount of panic now crossing his features.

Ah. Now the reason for Charles' visit suddenly makes itself clear. Crystal clear even, but Hob keeps that terrible pun to himself.

“So Edwin finally told you how he felt about you?” Hob asks, deciding to rip the bandage off now and quell the strange awkwardness in the room. Charles’ head whips up so fast Hob feels his own neck start to cramp up in sympathy.

“You knew ?” Charles asks. “But Edwin said he’d only figured it out when we were in Port Townsend!”

Hob shrugs. “Sometimes, things are easier to spot when you’re not in the middle of them,” he replies. “But it was pretty clear that, at the very least, Edwin considered you the most important person to him. It's not surprising he fell in love with you too.”

“You really think so?” Charles asks. “Because I don't—I’d never really thought about it before, you know? He's my most important person too, but I never thought that we would be more than that. But now that he's said it, I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” Hob asks. “Does it bother you that he feels that way?” A shake of the head. Good. “Do you ever think you could return those feelings?”

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem!” Charles cries, his voice pitching near to a whine. He stands and paces around Hob’s living room, and Hob has to try not to laugh into his tea. Teenage problems were always the same, whether a live or dead.

“To be honest, I’m still really into Crystal,” Charles starts, “...but then after everything with Edwin, and what happened to Niko, I started thinking, well, how long will that really last? Crystal’s alive, I’m not. She’s going to—she won’t—she’ll eventually—”

“Grow up?” Hob offers when the teen can’t find the right words. “Grow old, hopefully? Live a fulfilling life with someone else that’s flesh and blood?”

“I—yeah. Ideally yes,” Charles replies, though it's clear the thought bothers him by the way he scrunches his features. “But also, what if us being together puts her in too much danger? What if she—if what happened to Niko happens to her, I couldn't bear it, Mr. Gadling.”

“Hob,” Hob corrects the boy gently. “I've told you before that you don't need to call me Mister anything, makes me feel way older than I already feel,” he adds with a laugh. Charles gives him a half smile and just shrugs helplessly. Some habits were impossible to break, it seemed.

“And those are perfectly reasonable fears to have,” Hob continues. “Crystal is her own person though, and you need to take into account that she might find the risk worth it. And to be honest, I feel like the risk to her life is the same, whether you two are romantically involved or not.”

“Yeah, I suppose you're right,” Charles agrees, flopping back down onto Hob’s couch and staring back into the still steaming mug of tea. “So do you think we should give it a go, then?”

Hob shrugs. “I think you two like each other,” he replies, “but whether you think a relationship is worth it is up to you. Does Edwin know about you two?”

“He knows—some stuff yeah,” Charles replies sheepishly. “I had told him I liked her way before he, you know, confessed to me and all. And like, even afterwards, it seems like he’s fine, but I really don’t know if it’s all actually fine, or if he’s just trying to act like he’s fine just because I look fine but he’s not really fine and what if I’ve mucked everything up or—”

“Hey, slow down, Charles,” Hob interjects, and the boy’s mouth clicks shut immediately. “From what I can see, nothing has changed between you, so I wouldn't worry about it,” he adds, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Besides, you and Edwin have been together this long now, you've got more than enough time to sort things out, one way or the other.”

“Yeah,” Charles agrees, his voice now wistfully soft and clearly full of affection. “When we were in Hell, I said that to him,you know. That we have eternity to figure it all out.”

“Did you now?” Hob asks, now smiling himself. “Sounds like you two are on the same page then, as per usual. Now you just need to make a decision yourself and Crystal.”

“Yeah…yeah you're right,” Charles says, seeming to come to a decision. His back straightens and he sits up, his signature smile back on his face. “Edwin and I may have forever, but Crystal doesn't and it's rude to keep a lady waiting right?”

“Absolutely," Hob replies.

Charles leaves shortly after, promising not to overthink everything and let his feelings come naturally to him. Hob is fairly certain he knows where things will land eventually, and he's sure Charles does too. It doesn't make the journey to get there any less worthwhile.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #payneland #dreamling #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace #hob gadling #seiya writes #seiya writes dbda #chapter 2 let's go friends whooooo

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jgracie · 2 days

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get to know demeter’s garden fairy . . . cynthia ! what i would be like in the pjoverse

thank u sooo much sunni @sunnitheapollokid for tagging me in this!!! everyone go check hers out :)

⊹ i got to camp as a teen but didn't get claimed for a while... stayed unclaimed for like a year

⊹ as a legacy of apollo as well as a daughter of demeter, i do have a little bit of apollo kid traits/characteristics, such as being a good singer and loving sunlight

⊹ and since i got along with them so well they claimed me in their own way <3 shoutout to cabin 7 my fave people

⊹ they'd gotten so used to thinking of me as their sister they'd completely forgotten i was unclaimed (and so did everyone else) so demeter deciding to finally show up for me and claim me was def a shock

⊹ i was also shocked because i thought surely since i got on so well with the apollo kids i was one of them and apollo had just forgotten yk? he has a lot of kids to be fair!!!

⊹ anyways, i moved into the demeter cabin that night. luckily i already knew some of them because i liked visiting flowers and vines a lot (i wonder why)

⊹ had a bit of an identity crisis but katie gardner was super nice to me the whole time and helped me discover my demeter kid powers which i had no clue i had (i like to think demeter kid powers are the kind you have to tap into / be aware of to use which explains why we're harder for monsters to detect NOT because we're weak like rick said 😒)

⊹ we quickly became best friends as a result and she got me working at flowers and vines immediately. at first i was just a cashier who was training but once i got good i could actually work with the plants!

⊹ being best friends with katie meant i eventually got to know travis and they became like my parents LOL i def did the mama y papa trend w those two

⊹ working there helped me warm up to and get to know my siblings more and so i got close with them too :) as well as the dionysus kids who were there

⊹ i never forgot how familial the apollo cabin felt though so when i was back in the mortal world i brought it up with my dad and he explained how i'm a legacy of apollo (recent lineage so think like my grandfather was a child of apollo)

⊹ felt much better once i got that sorted LMAO

⊹ i def think i'm more of a combat based demeter kid! i don't use a weapon that much as my powers feel more natural but if i have to use one i tend to go for the spear i got from mommy herself!! it turns into a bracelet when unused

⊹ the spear was an apology for taking her SWEET time with claiming me and causing me to question everything i knew about myself... i forgave her though because she was told by zeus to avoid me specifically

⊹ this is because she was particularly close with my father and wanted to bring him up to olympus... you can probably guess how zeus felt about that 😬

⊹ anyway... i tend to have my hair in braids because it makes it a lot easier not only to work in the gardens but also use my fave power which is turning them into vines and doing my thing with them

⊹ i get along best with the apollo (ofc), aphrodite, dionysus and ares cabins

⊹ ares was a shocker to my siblings but they helped me figure out how to use my weapon when i first got it because im an overachiever like that and i discovered they were actually pretty cool

⊹ every demeter kid has an assigned flower at birth and mine are lilies :) random but i had to put it out there

⊹ we can also assign people and/or situations flowers and after an aphrodite kid caught wind of this power (first aphrodite kid who volunteers gets to be a part of this) they insisted we start a matchmaking service together

⊹ majority of my siblings didn't want to do it since demeter kids don't like to be part of other people's drama and tend to keep to ourselves... i however loved the idea and volunteered

⊹ people tell us the situation they're in and ask for guidance and they get it... via cryptic messages and bouquets of flowers! it's not that we don't want to tell them directly what's going on its that aphrodite withholds the info from her kids because she likes to see the drama play out and the demeter flower assigning power is super limited and just for funsies

⊹ when i'm NOT at flowers and vines or the matchmaking (i think fortune telling is a better word to use here) (why am i always working???) service, you can def find me at the beach

⊹ as a coastal girlie the water runs in my blood and going there reminds me of home with my dad even though we live in the city now... also swimming is SUPER fun!!!

⊹ i also help out at the kids arts and crafts activities #demeterkidmotherlyinstincts

⊹ those little kids are acc my bffs i love them to BITS... a lot of the younger kids at camp are there because their mortal parents gave them up or passed away so majority haven't seen the outside world

⊹ ofc when i find this out i bawl my eyes out then make it my mission to bring the outside world to them... that's how chb movie nights began! i bring a bunch of movie dvds from the mortal world whenever im there (sometimes i ship them to chb if i don't plan to go during winter or spring break) and they put them on for the younger kids before bedtime

⊹ i also have each and every one of their birthday's memorised and get them gifts <3

⊹ demeter kids are also good with drugs.. MEDICINAL drugs of course (i personally do not condone drug dealing but some of my siblings def have stashes of weed... that's all im saying)

⊹ we grow them for the apollo kids to use in the infirmary though since we are all very squeamish when it comes to major wounds and blood and all that

⊹ however after the battle of manhattan when the apollo cabin goes from 100 to 3 members some of us decide to put our squeamishness aside to go help out since we are the next best thing

⊹ some demeter kids have healing powers as well so there's that!

that's all i can get off the top of my head... this was SO fun though if i can think of more (or if anyone asks) i will be doing a part 2!

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #cynwrites

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mariamegale · 3 days

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A future in the making

Burakhovsky, Rated E, 12,499 words. Chapter 1 of 2.

“I have reached a crossroads,” Daniil eventually admits, squinting out against the Steppe with a sigh. “One with no roads to take. No matter where I turn, it will be a walk into the nothingness of unpaved ground. I think I may stay in your Town for a while, yet.” It’s said in the way he says most things, which is oddly, but Artemy decides to interpret it how he wants to. He steps forward, pulling Daniil into an unresisted if unreciprocated hug. “I’m glad you want to,” Artemy says, realising how true it is. “It is a better Town for having you in it.” That's a blessing. There are so many things he needs to do, people he has neglected, and it's not until the words are out there that he realised how afraid he'd been of having to fix it all alone. OR: Turns out, having to rebuild after the apocalypse - and its end - is a slower process than he'd hoped. OR 2: Artemy just wants his children to be okay. He would also quite like to figure out what the fuck it is he feels towards Daniil, neither of which turn out to be an easy process.

Read it on AO3!

Tags: great that the world didn't end and all but what the FUCK do we do now, Slow Burn, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Kissing, Cuddling, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sort of?, as in I am no expert but I believe they all have it, llness Recovery, Sexual Tension, Romantic Tension, Artemy is incredibly tense, Daniil is mostly tense about figuring out how to get kids to like him, Steppe culture, Rebuilding, Socially Awkward Daniil, Socially Awkward Artemy, Turns out a plague is really good at covering up how horrible your people skills are, rated E for future installments, Post-Diurnal

A/N: Before we head on, I want to give a massive shout to the absolutely phenomenal, brilliant and extraordinarely talented @meirimerens , whose headcanons of the Children and their future selves was a massive inspiration for me. Sand Pest is no joke, and I love love love their thoughts on the long-term health effects, with intricate character designs and ever-gorgeous art to boot. Seriously, check it out, I owe half this fic to them and their work.

After much self-debate, I decided this really is a second work after the first, and not so much a 'chapter 2'. With that said, you probably can read this without having read "The future is a house built by people", although I can't guarantee the foundation for Artemy and Daniil's relationship will work flawlessly without it. If that was a story about a single event in their lives and how it pushed them forward, this is about the inevitable flux of limbo that happens after a catastrophe.

The other half of this is mostly written, but I wanted to get this out here. If you'd rather read a finished piece, drop back in a week or so!

#pathologic #burakhovsky #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #the haruspex #the bachelor #pathofic #my writing

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insertsomthinawesome · 1 year

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- Out of Place - UH SO, INTRODUCING ALTAIR!!! :D :D :D My Yuu from Twisted Wonderland!! I actually meant to post this ages ago... but I fell down the Trigun hole before I did xD But since several requests I recieved Requested I draw Yuu... Whelp. SO HERE HE IS. MY SON. :D

#Twisted Wonderland #Twst #Twst yuu #Twst yuu oc #Twst Altair (oc)#I'll figure out tagging for him eventually xD #He does not have a last name yet ^^;; something to get too #BUT YES THIS IS MY BOY!!#also hi!! Its been a hot second #long time no post xD #I had a very busy last bit of days #I will hopefully get around to some more things now that I'm less busy #Isa's fanart #InsertSomthinAwesome #April2023

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candidateofloyalty · 14 days

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While Akihiko is autistic it would never occur to him to get tested because he relies on Mitsuru to keep track of his medical appointments. This is a problem because Mitsuru is also autistic but because her grandfather sucks she simply received instruction in acting more neurotypical from an early age, preventing her from realizing and therefore from noticing similar traits in Akihiko. She does however schedule their blood work for their HRT on the same day so they can go out for ice cream afterward.

#mitsuru watching akihiko completely miss another social cue:#honestly. if you would just borrow my detailed notes you would understand these things.#meanwhile Shinji knows the minute he brings it up he Will be told to get treatment for his PTSD. surely they'll figure it out eventually #p3 #persona 3 #i think i tagged a post with this before but i'm thinking about it again

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tommyarashikage · 4 months

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Gothic Heroine Meiker - I was tagged by @cloudofbutterflies92 for this pretty meiker and saw @captastra do this one, too! I don't have any AUs for ocs to fit this style, so I went with some original clowns! + also tagged by @alexxmason thank you! also including the previous picrew for more accurate looks..

[redacted] (original) - demon princess || Morgana (original) - queen of the dark realm

tagging (opt in/out): @risingsh0t @carlosoliveiraa @onehornedbeast @nightbloodbix @finding-comfort-in-rain @josephslittledeputy @aceghosts @socially-awkward-skeleton @voidika @thedeadthree @shadowglens @corvosattano @purplehairsecretlair @fourlittleseedlings @strangefable @kyber-infinitygems @leviiackrman @stardustbee @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @gwynbleidd @cassietrn @ri-a-rose

#meiker tag #first girl is redacted because she legit doesn't have a name yet 😶#she's the one from the new idea i mentioned the other day...#i love her look in the picrew too much to not include 😩#finally figured out what to do with my girl morgana! she has a place and family now #speaking of which #pls pretend the ghost is black instead and wears a fancy hat. that's her husband <3 #i'm lowkey obsessed with them and i wish i could ramble about them 😭#i'm?? so emotional about them. they have such a Bad Time before things get better to eventually getting catastrophic #why do they have to suffer i ask while i am solely responsible for it

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chodoyodes · 1 month

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What is this?? Trinketville?!

#new tag:#chodo sculpts #for the sculpting things I don’t post over on homunculid haha #anyway yeah I want to figure out how to ship these little spriongo germ things eventually they’re so fun #i want all my moots to have a special one

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incorrect-fnaf-quotes · 30 days

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In the Dr. Scraptrap AU, he did happen to have both Michael and Evan—having adopted them like he would later on with Elizabeth.

He adopted them both back in the earlier days when he’d just started working with Henry. And they were both still around with him for about five years.

Then, unfortunately, they both obtained an illness, and passed just a short time after Dr. Scraptrap figured out that they were ill/what they had.

He’s never brought either of them up to the three, but he does miss the two.

#Mad Scientist/Dr. Scraptrap AU #Save tag #Not a quote #When I was originally planning it out... I figured they wouldn’t be here—but I changed my mind #Working on his own~eventually works with Henry~adopts Michael and Evan shortly into it #They get the illness and pass~years later he gets rid of both Charlie & Cassidy~Looks for an assistant and finds Spring Bonnie #Spends time working on Plushtrap & eventually finishes them~simultaneously working on Mimic in private at the same time~#Considers him (Mimic) a failure and gets rid of him~adopts Elizabeth #Scraptrap #FNaF AU #This man will just not mention a lot of things

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kitamars · 2 years

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ever seen my posts and wondered if you could have MORE swap au shenanigans than whatever i crap out every once in a blue moon? well wonder no more! :D

my very dear friend syd (@/wrightworthanon on twitter! give them a follow NOW) just released the first chapter of a longfic with our loveable idiot bunny and grumpy prick tiger, with some funky illustrations done by yours truly~

it’s been so incredibly fun to work out the canon for this with syd, and their writing truly drives me bonkers, so please do check it out! i hope you enjoy ^^

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whispers-of-masser · 11 months

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Dragon's Tongue

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, minor angst; 1300+ words ♫ "You And I (Stripped)" - PVRIS ✒ Something short n sweet today, I'm feeling soft

Nebarra was loath to admit it to himself, and he'd die before ever saying it aloud, but the Rift really was beautiful. Nothing compared to Alinor, to be sure, but... all the gold reminded him of home. And when he passed by a small, isolated farm, he could almost see himself on its porch, see his brother leaning against the door.

The illusions were younger, happier versions of themselves. So much more innocent, faces bright with naivety, eyes shining with plans for the future.

And then he'd gone to war.

He'd lost... so much of himself, in the deserts of Hammerfell. They had scorched and burned him inside and out, slowly bleeding him dry with every comrade he saw fall. And all that, for what? For all the Altmer's supposed superiority, the campaign had failed on all fronts – Hammerfell's walls and people defied them, and Cyrodiil remained in power, weakened but still unbroken.

How could the Thalmor still strut about, arrogant to Aetherius and back, when they had failed so miserably? How could they look at the faces of the families whose children and lovers they'd sent to die and only tell them they'd "served their purpose"?

Nebarra couldn't.

He couldn't face them at all. Not even through pen and paper, leagues away from ever having to look them in the eyes, ever having to see the pain and loss in their gaze.

Where the Thalmor were heartless, he was a coward.

And he didn't know which was worse.

~~~

Night fell, and you called the group to halt, to make camp until dawn. Nebarra set up the tent as you argued with Xelzaz, trying to convince him that no, he shouldn't summon a flame atronach and then kill it for its fire salts, no matter how good it would make dinner taste. Khash merely looked on, muching on some clover she'd picked up somewhere.

At last though, you got Xelzaz to relent, though he asked you to gather some herbs in exchange, listing off the plants he wanted you to find.

"Ah... and take Nebarra with you."

The elf froze. Turned slowly towards the lizard. Demanded, "What? Why?"

"Two eyes are better than one," he shrugged, "and that much safer, as well. We don't know what's out there, and I'm pretty sure we passed a necromantic altar on our way here."

At that, you groaned, head rolling back like a teenager who'd just been told to do their chores. "Gods, not another one. Why do we always seem to run into those?"

"Luck of the Dragonborn? Anyway, off with you now – I have to get set up. Let's see, in whose pack did I leave my cooking pot...? Khash! Come help me with this!"

And just like that he walked off, leaving you and Nebarra alone by the campfire. A chuckle escaped you, and he glanced over to see you shaking your head. "I'm surprised he didn't tell us to hold hands, too, so we don't lose each other in the dark."

"Yeah, I'm not holding your hand," Nebarra snarked. And it was true. Absolutely true. Totally, one-hundred percent true.

"Oh wow, Nebs, that one almost hurt." Your soft laugh seemed to echo in his ears, his mind. "Come on, let's go – I don't suppose you heard any of the plants he wants?"

Blue and yellow mountain flowers, to restore and fortify. Purple for rejuvenation, and to give to Khash. Scaly pholiota for fiber and strengthening. Wild gourds and dragon's togue for flavour.

He snorted from behind his helm. "That would require paying attention to him."

"Should have known," you sighed. "Alright, listen up before I forget: blue, yellow, and purple mountain flowers, scaly pholiota, and dragon's tongue. And be careful with the purple mountain flowers, they're gifts for Khash. Oh, he also wants some wild gourds. Got it?"

"...Yeah, yeah. Let's just get going."

He definitely hadn't feigned ignorance just to hear your voice some more. Definitely not.

~~~

"Ah, back at last! Perfect," Xelzaz said, stirring something in a pot over the fire. "Now I can get the real meal started."

"Then what's this?" Nebarra demanded as Xelzaz handed him a bowl, in exchange for the plants the Altmer carried. Even through his gauntlets he could feel its warmth, and a rich, savory scent drifted up through the slits of his helmet.

"Something amazing, from the smell," you sighed, and Nebarra didn't have to look to know you were drooling.

"Just a little sometime to hold you over," the Argonian demurred, handing you a bowl as well. "Thought I'd experiment with some of the flora I've gathered thus far."

That gave Nebarra pause. "Wait – experiment? That's settled, I'm not eating this."

"If you don't want it–"

Your words were drowned out by Khash's eager shout of, "I'll eat it! I'll take your bowl!" She rushed over to him, red eyes trained on the food.

"Khash, you had your share," Xelzaz chided. "Any more and you won't have room for the rest of dinner."

"Yes, I will! I have room for anything you make."

"She's got a point," you laughed, and Nebarra slowly, wordlessly handed her the bowl.

"I'll go keep watch," he grumbled, turning away.

"Oh, don't be like that! Nebarra!" When he didn't respond, you sighed, calling after him, "Alright, go sulk! I'll make sure Xelzaz doesn't poison your share, though you kind of deserve it!"

His back still towards you, Nebarra raised his hand in a rude gesture, and your laughter rang through the night.

Some thirty minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching; he didn't need to turn to know it was you. Your tread was distinct from the others, weighted with determination and confidence, whereas Xelzaz's was soft and steady, and Khash's light and hesitant.

"Here. Eat." Despite the short words, your tone was gentle, and Nebarra looked over to see you holding a plate out towards him, laden with a slab of meat and wild berries to the side. "It's delicious, and unpoisoned."

"How would you know?" he sniffed, catching a whiff of the food in the process. It... did smell amazing. "Did you try it?"

"I did, actually. Stole some of your steak when Xelzaz wasn't looking. And since I'm still standing here pestering you, I guess that means it's clean."

Nebarra paused, eyes training on your face. Half of it was wreathed in shadow, only the gleam of your eyes visible; the other half was illuminated by the campfire, revealing the soft smile you wore.

You... had a nice smile.

And before he could stop himself, he mumbled, "You're not... pestering me."

Surprise flickered in your gaze – surprise, and something else. Something he told himself he didn't recognise, refused to recognise.

After a moment, you said softly, "That's... good to hear, then. Because I have something else for you, too." Reaching down with your free hand, you pulled something from your belt and held it out before him. "I saved one, 'cause it reminded me of you."

Nebarra stared. There, held gently between your fingers, was a dragon's tongue flower, petals open wide and colours vibrant in full bloom. "This... reminded you of me?"

"It's gold. Just like you."

"...You really do have trouble with your eyesight, don't you? These are orange."

"Eh, close enough." You shrugged, the smile never leaving your face.

Slowly, Nebarra reached out and, ignoring the plate of food, took the flower carefully, delicately from your grasp, cradling it in his palm. "...Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"You just did." As he raised a brow from the shadows of his helm, you set the plate on a nearby rock and tapped the gauntlet that held the flower. "You accepted it."

He couldn't deny it. "Think you got me all figured out then, huh?"

Something in your smile shifted, your gaze flickering. "No. Not yet, anyways. But... I think I'd like to." And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark, stunned.

And that night, as he sat in the shadows of the campfire, he stared at the flower for a long, long time.

#nebarra #nebarra skyrim #skyrim nebarra #skyrim #tes 5 #whisper writes #finally wrote that thing from my tags ages ago #and by ages i mean like a week lmaoo #also i now officially have the headcanon now that khash likes to munch on clovers and i don't know what to do with this thought #anyway in other news im so tired?? like for some reason writing Just Tonight REALLY drained me #i dont know how to describe it other than the fact that writing it felt like.... it took something from me?#idk man maybe i just burnt myself out a little; i haven't written so much and been so intent about it in actual years #tragically im not even happy about how it turned out but tbfh when is an artists ever satisfied with their own work??? neverrrr #im so tired man lol #i wanna keep working on the second part of just tonight and I have ideas for it but i just.... cannot right now lol #anyway off to play more skyrim and hopefully recharge #starting an altmer mage/college of winterhold playthough with only altmer followers #so that means im grabbing nebs; caryalind; taliesin; rumarin; idrinth; and eventually Telmiltarion since I downloaded summerset isle too #he has a standalone verison that doesnt require the full mod but #figured i'd play through the whole thing at least once since it ties into the cow story anyways #help why does “college of winterhold” abbreviate to fuckin COW I just noticed😭#anywho... ive never actually played with tel or idrinth before so im actually a little nervous; i hope i like them lol #wanted to try daegon too but then i saw she was pulled for updates and was like nuuuuu #might see about posting a screenie once i've got the whole crew together #anyway im off to go play for reals this time lol bye

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psychotic-nonsense · 13 days

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This was originally planned to be its own fic, with background and build up and ✨️longing✨️, but I don't think it'll work out. Can't write slow burn to save my life.

Enjoy this bit of it because I'm still gonna be thinking about it.

Context - Post Vecna, a few days after the gates open. Eddie lives, barely, and has some trouble moving. Max survives, though with impaired vision and legs, Vecna having taken barely enough from her to open the gates. The Party finds an abandoned shelter outside of town after everybody reunites, using it as their base.

-----------

It's logical, he tries to reason. It makes sense, it's the only real way to handle this situation.

The kids are all bunking together, no doubt turning the entire floor into one single bed. With the Cali-Crew (quote Dustin) finally back home, no one would dare try and separate them. Besides, the fight over who got to bunk with Max to watch over her injuries was getting too annoying for anyone to keep dealing with.

The adults are bunking together as well. Having one guy sleeping alone in a room each during these times, when danger was prominent every single night, seemed weird to the Russians and Wayne. Plus, as Murray jokes, it "keeps an eye on Hop and Joyce at night" (he got a few punches for that one, laughing all the while).

But the teens started this whole thing - or rather, Argyle did. The second they found out how many rooms there were available in the shelter, he called shotgun on one for just him and Jonathan. The adults reluctantly agreed to it, so Nancy took the chance and grabbed a room for her and Robin, to everyone's surprise.

Which left one last pairing.

Steve did look a little upset about not getting to bunk with Robin (and if you ask Eddie, a little scared, but he won't even try and think of the reason). But upon her and Nancy's shrug and responding, "Girls night," he conceded with an eye roll and a sighed, "Girls night..." before immediately grabbing Eddie to take the room in the middle of the hall.

And that seemed to be Steve's only grievance about bunking with Eddie. Everything else he's seen in the past few days of their recovery, his quirks and struggles alike, he looks ready to take in stride.

Eddie sleeps far from the door with his spear and shield next to him? "I would've fought you on that first, man. And hey, my bed back home has a bat on each side. This thing never leaves me."

Eddie's gauze leaks through with shit from his wounds? He can barely walk to the door without shaking? "We dealt with the same bats, Eds, it's okay, I got you."

Eddie has a big emotional gay crush on the guy and everytime he's called "Eds" he wants to beg for Steve to hold him and never let go?...Well, Steve doesn't know about that one, but it's only a matter of time honestly.

Especially considering the damn sleeping arrangement, which makes itself prominent the second they open the door.

While the rooms themselves aren't so bad, considering the age of this place, Steve and Eddie got lucky enough to find the one room with only one proper bed. Connected bathroom and pull out couch, yeah, sure, cool. But the springs in the couch are rusted through and snapped shut when Eddie tried to open it, so that's a no.

And Steve, still recoiling from the bang of the couch, had the audacity to try and suggest he sleep on the floor?!

"Hell no, Steve!" Eddie immediately fought. Showing too much care that it makes Steve look shocked. "Do you know how many rats could've been crawling around on that? We can clean the bed, but who knows what's hiding in those cracks? Just take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch-"

"After that thing almost exploded?!" Steve exclaimed back. He's a little concerned, with his puffed chest and hands on his hips countered by the softer give in his eyes. "No way, Eds, not with your bites still fucking you up." Stop looking at his eyes, Munson. "I'll just get another bed from the spare rooms-"

"Nope, not happening either." Steve may still be the hot ass jock he was in high school, but a year out of the gym and his own wounds in his sides and back would make just that torture. Because there's no doubt he'll reject any help, try and do it all his own. And Eddie refuses to let him run into pain again. "The couch works just fine as is, and I can barely move anyway, so no harm no foul, right?"

"You could fall off," Steve responds, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"You'll get rabies on that floor," Eddie counters. Then he tilts his head to the side, a lilt in his tone. "Can't worry our dear Buckley, now can we?"

Steve snorts at that, making Eddie smile. Goddamn it, Munson. "You wouldn't be able to get up on your own from the couch," Steve counters yet again, smiling like it's a competition now.

"You wouldn't be able to get up at all," Eddie fights back.

"The bed probably stinks."

"And you'd still let me go up there?"

"You need actual sleep."

"So do you."

"...You wouldn't wanna move rooms?"

"Steve, you don't even want to move."

They're both smiling so wide it has to hurt Steve the way it hurts Eddie. Every counter they've taken a step forward until they're almost face to face, same height even with Eddie's trembling from sliced nerves.

Someone has to break soon - "Then take the damn bed, Munson!" - and it turns out to be Eddie. Because of course.

"Only if you do too!"

There isn't enough metal in the walls for the words to be echoing this much. It's the first retort Steve's actually affected by, flinching back just a hair but it's enough. His expression goes from giddiness to a kind of seriousness Eddie can't decipher.

Eddie's frozen solid. He doesn't want to know what he looks like, knows enough how his eyes are way too wide, that his mouth is stumbling over words it can't make. Look who's really fucked up now, the dude saved your life and you two are finally friends, and you're repaying the favor by asking him to sleep with you. Shameful, disgusting, inconsiderate...

But Steve's looking over at the bed. Assessing the dust covered sheets, the pillows and slightly moldy headboard, and then...

He fucking shrugs like it's no big deal and is saying "Okay," like it doesn't stab Eddie right in the throat, making him squeak as he's brought out of his head into something that cannot be reality.

"Okay?" Eddie responds, incredulous, watching Steve go over to their duffel bags in the hall.

"If it means you'll back down, sure. That thing's big enough for the both of us anyway." Steve throws the bags on the couch, flinching a little when he stands up straight again. "You could've just suggested that from the start, Eds, could've saved us the trouble with the death trap over here." He jokes, nodding at the couch.

But Eddie doesn't catch it, shocked in silence. Making a big deal out of nothing because of his stupid stupid heart. "You're serious?"

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he's offended by Eddie's surprise. The mirth in his eyes hasn't faded though. "I'm not scared of a little sleepover, man. And if it wasn't you it was gonna be Robin, so don't think you're special." He walks over to the bed as he says that, but Eddie still catches the fear in his eyes again. The one flavored with loneliness.

But as Steve starts carefully pulling the sheets off the bed, he softens again, meeting Eddie's eyes with a kindness that's so genuine. Breath, Munson, that's a thing you need. "Seriously though, Eds, I'm cool with it, don't worry. We've both been through some worse shit than this, yet I'm still here. So are you." Steve averts his eyes, looking almost sheepish as Eddie's heart basically implodes. "Don't think you can push me away now. You're stuck here, like it or not."

Steve occupies his hands with collecting the sheets, so carefully trying not to send dust everywhere. Eddie finally breaks out of his stupor, smiling as his chest sags in relief. Crush or not, Steve proves Eddie's little Upside Down speech right every single damn day. Playful and sarcastic and strong, but the hidden consideration and softness and care showing through. Every. Single. Time.

Steve reaches for the thin bed cover at the bottom, but Eddie's already there on the other side, pulling it out of his grasp. His head snaps up, surprise to open fondness. "You sure about that, Stevie?" Eddie jokes, slowly bunching up the sheet in his hands. Knows the truth is peeking through. "I've been called quite the unforgiving bunk mate."

Steve blinks at his words, searching him for something Eddie doesn't want to know. But then he's smiling too, not looking away as he goes for the pillows. "As long as you don't snore, I'll be the judge of that."

-----------

Eddie does snore.

Not outright, it's a barely there grumble if you get technical. But it comes up sometimes when he sleeps on his back, and thanks to those glorious bites, he's forced to. Thus, snoring. Steve would probably make fun of it, play up the annoyance and make a joke of it to get Eddie to laugh.

But they're both fast asleep. Steve in just sweatpants and Eddie in a shirt and shorts, on opposite ends of the bed, passed out with the exhaustion of the last week still weighing them down.

They're no better than the rest of the Party, their new base of operations providing them all a sense of safety no trailer or winnebago has before. Granting them all the deepest sleep they've had yet.

Still, the unconscious Steve shuffles in his sleep in the dead of night. His brain is a hive of noise in times like these, making his subconscious dark and uncomfortable. He's deep in slumber, exhaustion keeping him trapped down, so his body tries to counteract it, twisting and turning to find sanctuary.

The unconscious Eddie isn't faring any better. Even in sleep he's restless, his usual positions consisting of shuffling legs, constant turning, and the tight cradling of a pillow, all in the attempts to keep his body down and still. But with the wounds, he can hardly breathe without straining against them. Every attempt his subconscious makes to move, a sharp burst of pain shoots into his dreams, and he stops with a groaning snore. And though the blankets they could salvage are thick and comfortable, this new Hawkins post-Vecna is cold at night, and Eddie is too exposed to not feel the shivers rack his body, flaring the pain further.

With a sleepy mumble, Steve shuffles into the bed a little further, his brow straining against his mind's assault. At the same time, Eddie turns his head onto his uninjured cheek, the only movement his body will allow.

Steve squirms and it strains at the wounds in his back, so against the bruising pain of the bites, he turns over into his side. He's got more freedom than Eddie there, so while his body slowly settles against the pain, his other arm comes around to find peace in the sheets below. Anything to ground him from the memories swirling fast like rushing lake water.

And it finds something. Something solid, soft, real and breathing and alive and safe. Steve's too deep in sleep to comprehend it past that, so his fingers just run softly over it, savoring the tranquility it offers his rattled head.

Likewise, Eddie's snoring abruptly quiets with a breathy exhale. Something has grabbed hold of his upper arm. Soft and moving but it's warm, radiating heat up to his shoulder blade and down into his fingertips. Thankful and desperate, his subconscious moves him to shuffle sideways, face straining against the pain in search of the aid that'll soothe it.

At the same time, Steve also searches for more of that feeling, the edge of darkness licking at his heels as he tries to escape. Closes the gap.

Steve is now laying nearly on top of Eddie's right side, arm draped over his chest and head finding solace in the crook of his neck. All the while, both of them completely unconscious.

Steve's brain goes blissfully silent, the presence of another comforting his innate fears and driving away the darkness into a muted haze. It pulls his mind completely away from whatever pain resides in his torso, and he relaxes fully with a soft mumble.

Eddie sags into the bed with a deep exhale. The warmth digs deep into his bones, burning away the cold and restless twitching in his nerves. The pressure on his side adds to the weight on his mind, dragging him deeper into sleep. The pressure on his chest is just barely off of his wounds, soothing the stabbing in his gut in to a soft pulsing.

He leans more into it, meeting Steve breath for breath. Letting their hearts match in beat, sinking into peace. It's the safest and most comfortable they've been since hell froze over.

But as the night goes on, they'll slowly drift apart. When the sun rises they'll be separate once again. Their minds will only remember the peace, their bodies the vague touch of comfort.

Despite everything, they'll be none the wiser.

Despite everything, the next night, they'll long for it again.

And despite everything, they would find it.

#“Only one bed” trope but they're only not stupid when they're asleep #every other time is pining #writing this was super fun but slow burn is my kryptonite #bc this was gonna be SLOW slow burn #focus on their relationships with each other and the others #how they'll beat vecna #and then keep coming back to each other every single night #eventually they'll start waking up in the middle of it and have some “oh shit i love him” moments #and then they'll wake up at the same time and finally figure the whole thing out #MAN I WISH I COULD WRITE THIS BETTER #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things #no shame on the tag assault i love yapping about my boys #yall have no clue how many steddie wips are sitting in my drafts and notes rn

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