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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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I loveee the concept of reincarnation bc it’s just so comforting!!!

oh to be reincarnated lovers with Bakugou where you find each other every life time and leave a memory of the other to find in the next lifetime. You see each other in a new lifetime, drawn to each other, swearing familiarity even though your minds disagree. But it’s something deeper within you that knows each other, misses the others embrace, and you can’t figure out why.

There’s a famous painting of someone who looks suspiciously like you made in the 1600s by some tortured artist, the muse a lover he had lost years before. There’s a statue that looks just like Bakugou from the 1800s, who everyone thought to be created after Apollo, but you beg to differ. There are letters found between two lovers, one gone off to war and the other at home, their exchange of love something poets discuss in contemporary times. Theres even skeletons found embracing each other, with one’s head tucked into the others neck.

And for some reason, every time, these figments of love appeal to you deeper than anyone else around you. They’re so familiar, and you think you might be going crazy when flashes of memories start to plague you.

Sitting in a darkly lit room, a slate of white marble in front of you, a point chisel in hand. There’s a blond man sitting behind the marble, with a sly grin, as your hands raise to start chipping away at its flawless perfection.

Sitting at home, writing away with a quilled pen to a lover you miss. Kissing the edge of the paper and pulling away to find it stained with red from your lips.

Laying in the soft grass, your face hidden in a strong neck as heavy winds start to take over you. Your arms entangled in another’s, tilting your face up to kiss a blond, stubbled jaw.

When Bakugou tells you he remembers the same things, you wonder if you’re both just on a bad trip from a drug you don’t remember taking. But you carve your names in tree trunks and wonder if you’ll find find it again hundreds of years later, if you’ll see him again, if you’ll create another piece of your unyielding love on every crevice of the earth.

#this was what t*mblr deleted last night -_-#ofc the first idea was better and I couldn’t remember what I said but WHATEVER #anyway I love reincarnation as a concept so much #so so beautiful and comforting #I lowkey wanna make this a full fic and just talk about every lifetime you’ve lived with him #…….ykw fuck it ima put it on my list bc WHY NOT #the semester is over anyway so I can write as much as I want now 😌#okay lemme go brainstorm different lives you live with him 🏃🏽‍♂️#bakugou treats! 🍬#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#I yam also open to someone suggesting different lives if you wanna !!!!

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five-and-dimes · 1 year

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Sleeping Beauty-esque au where Dream wants to Stop Living but doesn’t want to go through making someone be his replacement (being Dream of the Endless is so hard, how cruel would it be to subject that role to someone else?) and it occurs to him that he is the Dreaming and the Dreaming is him so what if he just… took one of those out of the equation? As long as there is a Dreaming then technically there is a Dream even if he’s not human-shaped anymore and so one day he goes into one of the gardens and he lays down and closes his eyes and lets Dream the Person sink into Dream the Place.

Matthew comes looking for him and gets lost because his magic-raven-senses, which are supposed to always know where Dream is, are telling him he’s everywhere?? And finally he stumbles upon a body, still breathing but with moss and ivy and briars slowly growing around him, a living body being reclaimed by nature and Matther naturally freaks the fuck out, clawing at the plants and pecking at Dream’s hands and pulling his hair to try to wake him but all it does is make the ivy grow faster and he’s pushed back by a gust of wind that feels like a sigh.

Cursing as loud as a raven is capable of, he books it back to Lucienne, and it takes a few minutes for her to make sense of his panicked cawing but then she is dropping the book in her hands and rushing to call anyone she can think of, which includes both the rest of the Endless and also one particular immortal human because that’s how desperate she feels.

And then it’s a line of people taking turns sitting next to Dream the Body, gently pushing back the greenery around him, some of them sobbing when they see how the plants are starting to grow through him, and the body is still breathing but it’s decomposing, sinking deeper into the landscape, and it’s hard to tell but they think Fiddler’s Green is crying, pleading with the Dreaming itself to walk on two legs again.

I think eventually Hob, who has been coming and speaking every night in his sleep, trying to bribe and barter and goad his friend to come back to them, finally snaps when he comes and sees Dream’s body completely covered by moss and vines, looking for all the world like just an uneven patch of field, and he thrusts his hands into the earth and physically tears Dream out, standing and dragging him away from the plants that reach to take him back, and he starts sobbing and screaming about how Dream isn’t getting rid of him that easily, Hob is immortal by stubbornness alone, if Dream thinks he won’t fall in love with a goddamn patch of grass he’s got another thing coming, he wants Dream to walk with him and live with him, but if he has to marry Dream the Place then that’s what he’ll do, he will make the realm itself his husband and spend eternity nurturing it, give whole new meaning to the term “husbandry”. And the ivy is crawling up Dream’s body, trying to pull him out of Hob’s arms, but before it can cover Dream’s face Hob is kissing him for all he’s worth.

And then the ivy slows, and the wind seems to shudder, and the land is still but Hob thinks he feels a separating within it, like the red sea parting beneath a blessed hand, and it takes a moment, because so much of Dream has spread like roots throughout the Dreaming and it’s hard in so many different ways to pull it all back into himself, but Hob holds him through it, peppering his face with kisses as the earth falls away from his withered body and being a person again hurts, but Hob’s love soothes it like a balm.

And then he awakens, opening his eyes for the first time in months, cradled in Hob’s arms, with soft memories of everyone who had tried to bring him back because they wanted him back, and he is still so tired, but. But maybe, he thinks, being awake, being here, is not so bad if there is someone to hold him like this.

Hob kisses him again.

#what is this #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling #my writing #I have no idea why I did this #just #thinking about Dream and the Dreaming and how being a landscape has GOT to be easier than being a person #what am I doing with my life #I have actual fics to work on #yeet #Do I want to write a full fic of this?#vote now on your phones

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sailing-through-hawkins · 5 months

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When the apocalypse happened, it was just a random Wednesday.

Well, it was for Eddie.

For the kids, it wasn't that random and it was a long time coming sort of thing.

"We've been dealing with this kind of shit for a while," Dustin had told him nonchalantly as he handed a bottle, ready to be set on fire, over to Lucas, who settled it in a box of other weaponry. "It's like, our yearly bonding activity."

"You've been fighting zombies for years?!" Eddie had said. "But you're toddlers!"

"First of all, shut the fuck up," Max glared at him before sniffing. "They weren't - always zombies."

"What does that mean?"

"We were trying to take down the lab," Lucas sighed, patting the side of the box. "They did some freaky shit in there and we wanted to stop them."

"It went wrong." Will continued, and Eddie's neck was aching so bad from all the spinning his head was doing. "They released some kind of neuro-agent and we..."

"We had to leave." Dustin said blankly. Eddie peered down at him, watching the slightest tremble of his lip before he rubbed the bridge of his nose and continued preparing the cocktails. "But we're gonna fix it."

To this day, Eddie has a feeling that the "it" isn't really about the zombies somehow.

"Ready?" Jonathan nods and Eddie nods back.

Everyone else is in the garage with them while they get ready for the supply run.

Lucas was the one to encourage them to come up with quick-time strategies, something about using them back when he played basketball but Eddie distinctly remembers him not joining the team so he has no idea what he's talking about.

Dustin sits with him over their blueprints, arguing about codenames and extraction points, sometimes tapping at the shiny watch he never takes off.

Nancy Wheeler, blessed badass that she is, is polishing off a freshly-sawed gun, her eyes glancing over to Jonathan every other second like he's going to just disappear if she doesn't.

Mike sits with Will and the girl-from-out-of-town, Elle, weirdly quiet as the other two talk through some other strategy blueprints that Lucas handed to them.

Joyce, Hopper, the weird Murray guy, they're all having some sort of group huddle in the back, glancing over with fake-smiles (Joyce's is the most believeable one) once Eddie starts the car.

Through the window, he can see Robin, as stern and as ever, right beside a blank-faced Max, her hand tightening its grip on her axe. He wonders what Robin sees, when they have to go out into the desolation. When her normally tired eyes become fierce and her numb tone becomes snarling.

How many years have they had to face this shit?

Why, whenever they gather round in any place, no matter how small, is there always an empty space between Robin and Dustin?

What happened to these people?

#sailor✧writes #au content: zombies #writing #snippet #welcome to a snippet of my zombie!steve au #it's just something that's been in my drafts so i wanted to get it out there #idk if i'd ever write out the full fic but the beginning would be fun #stranger things #steddie #well that's the idea #but lowkey it was becoming a stoncy fic for a second

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jadewritesficshere · 1 year

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Okay, but imagine Robin who hangs out at the diner on weekends because the senior citizens go there and are fun to hang out with. She knows all the ins and outs of who is who in Hawkins thanks to Janice. Gladys has shown her how to knit, which the first thing she made was a very off-putting and weirdly shaped sweater she gave to Steve (Steve absolutely wore it even if it is not correct. Anytime anyone mentions it he just goes "its called fashion"). Charles has lamented about how the outfits the kids wear and their attitudes ("All these bright colors and for what? To be a dick? Might as well have put a big flashing sign that says "I'm a prick"").

One day, there is a new guy at the diner. Robin doesn't catch his name but he seems nice (and younger then the majority of the crowd). Robin is telling them about Steve's failed attempts at flirting, when the new guy chuckles and cuts her off mid sentence. "Almost as bad as my kid...God love him," He smiles and looks at the ceiling before taking a sip of coffee. Robin would feel frazzled getting interrupted if the guy didn't go on to tell the most hilarious story she ever heard. The poor kid was apparently so flustered trying to flirt he had actually tripped and spilled his drink on himself; somehow, the story ended with the kid looking like a sewer rat with twigs in his hair and a bloody nose, but an award winning smile cause he got a number.

Robin immediately wants to meet the kid who is "around your age". He seems sweet and funny, at least this man is so surely the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Janice is the one to suggest Robin meets the nephew and brings Steve along ("That poor boy needs more friends his age, always cartin' those kids around" "If he ever wants an older friend you tell him to-""Rhonda! He could be your grandchild!""I have eyes Janice, just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't see""You're legally blind."). Robin earnestly agrees. As they leave, Robin makes plans with the man, making sure the others can't hear so they don't show up. Robin makes plans for Tuesday at 4.

Except on Tuesday she gets sick. She's laying on the couch pathetically, lamenting about how she never gets sick. Steve is like "oh nooooo guess we have to cancel" with a shrug, cause he could not care less (he had wanted to spend a relaxing night off). Robin convinces him to go. Cue Steve meeting Eddie at a diner, essentially a blind date. Steve shows back up at the apartment him and Robin share and is smitten. Starts telling Robin all about the date not date. Eddie goes home to Wayne, gives him a grumpy look (he didn't want to go out to some "stupid" hangout), then goes to his room. Wayne could hear his squeal of delight and then hear Eddie talking to himself about the prettiest guy he's seen. Wayne just sips his coffee and goes back to reading the paper.

#Are you telling me this isn't an amazing idea???#Someone with better writing skills make this a full fic and tag me #If yall can't tell i only have enough gumption for oneshots and drabbles #All the senior citizens want to know how it went and Robin just goes I didnt go and then gets chewed out for an hour before she can clarify #Platonic Stobin #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Stranger Things #Jade is Talking

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twokisses · 2 months

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can i be rabid about an nsfw snowbaz concept really quick? bc i can't stop thinking about baz taking simon back to pitch manor (post-awtwb) just to check out the grounds and make sure it's okay, and let simon fly around without restriction for once. and i can't stop thinking about baz taking simon on a proper tour of the house and them ending up in baz's childhood bedroom, where the memories of his desperate mournful fifth year wank sessions feel too close to the surface, and suddenly simon is sprawling onto the bed, making some thoughtless comment about what it would have been like to be baz in this room, but all baz can register is simon snow on his childhood bed. and when simon sees baz's frozen expression and asks what's wrong, baz can't keep the shivering yearning truth from escaping him. he tells simon what he's thinking. and simon decides yeah, he'll make it so that baz's fantasies don't have to stay fantasies. he does make love to baz on that bed. and all baz's lonely painful memories of the feel of these sheets and the sight of that headboard are written over with the feel and sight of them now, while overcome with pleasure and love for a simon who is actually right there with him. and what i can't stop thinking about is the poetry of simon tying baz up while he makes love to him. in that bed, where being taken by simon was previously a ludicrous thing baz could only have in his imagination, and the feel of his own hands were the only things he could have in reality - to now have them tied up and out of the way, so all this real, grounding, wracking pleasure can only be coming from simon, simon himself, nobody else, no other way? sexy healing times

#things i thought of as fic ideas but am too lazy to write in full #if anyone does want this as a fic lmk i guess? idk if i have the juice for it but i could maybe turn it into a short piece #OR if anyone just wants more HCs or short fic kinda things like this - lmk as well! shoot me an ask or something :)#snowbaz #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #simon snow #baz pitch #simon snow series #burbles

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robertdowneyjjr · 4 days

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when tony started working for bucky, he never imagined that anything would ever, could ever happen between them.

for starters, bucky was a decade older than tony. not that he had a huge issue with age differences, but still. tony was only in his early 20s when they met.

but more importantly, as far as tony could tell, bucky was happily married.

so despite the immediate attraction that he felt the second he laid eyes on bucky and the growing feelings he began to develop the more they got to know each other over the years, tony knew that nothing could ever come of it and that he needed to be content with just admiring the other man from afar.

but sometimes bucky would say things, or just look at tony a certain way, and he’d wonder if maybe, just maybe, the feelings he had were reciprocated.

regardless, though, he knew he would never do anything about it. there was no reason for him to do such a thing and nothing could change his mind about that.

not even when tony complained about another failed attempt at dating during happy hour one day after work and bucky said, “i could never understand why these idiotic bastards would rather waste another day getting drunk with their equally idiotic friends instead of spending time with you.”

or when bucky took him out for a celebratory lunch after signing a major deal with a new partner and their knees kept brushing under the table, and bucky just kept smiling at him for the whole meal like they were sharing a secret.

also not when they were on the phone with each other at midnight trying to salvage an important client relationship and suddenly the conversation segued into personal relationships and when tony sadly confided that he didn’t think anyone had ever loved him before, bucky vehemently declared, “doll, how could anyone know you and not love you? hell, i’m pretty sure i’ve been half in love with you for years.”

and especially not when they were on a business trip and heading back to their separate hotel rooms after a dinner with their biggest client and bucky kissed him before the elevator doors opened on his floor, and tony’s lips tingled for the rest of the night.

no, tony didn’t do anything about his feelings even after all of that because bucky was married.

then tony meets steve at a big company event, where this big beautiful blond man looks adorably lost and alone in a room with four hundred people. tony can’t help but drift closer to him and introduce himself, offer a drink, and ignore everyone else if only so he could make steve feel more comfortable in this crowd of strangers.

they spend the rest of the night together, talking for hours and giving each other meaningful and longing glances, smiling like they both know where they’d like this to go next. tony’s fingers absently stroke along steve’s hand that is placed on the cocktail table they’re leaning against, and steve’s other hand is playing with tony’s hair and sending shivers down his spine when his fingers brush against tony’s neck, and tony has to resist the urge to rub against steve’s hand like a cat.

steve has just leaned closer, lips and breath whispering across tony’s skin to speak softly into his ear when bucky finds them.

tony reluctantly pulls away from steve, refusing to feel embarrassed or guilty in any way, especially when he knows bucky likely interrupted them just so he could ask tony to get back to work. this is a work event, after all.

but then steve looks at bucky and smiles, and says, “oh hey sweetheart, finally got some time for us?”

and bucky glances between steve and tony, sees how there’s barely any space between them and grins from cheek to cheek. “looks like you’ve met my husband, doll.”

and, oh.

oh.

well.

it looks like tony suddenly has a lot to think about.

#so i was thinking of writing a full fic with this premise but honestly idk if i have the time or energy #but god i do really want to write it #some things would probably change but the general gist would be the same #anyway #bucky only ever refers to steve as cap or punk when he talks about him so tony has no idea it’s steve #stuckony #stevebuckytony #buckytony #winteriron #stevetony #stony #kay writes things

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patheticgirlsteve · 1 year

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Eddie thinks it's sweet that Steve puts so much time and effort into engaging in Eddie's hobbies and passions. Like, SO sweet. But he can't help but feel bad for not engaging in Steve's interests as well. So he tries to think what he can do to show Steve that it's not one-sided, that Eddie cares about Steve's interests as well, but he has a hard time coming up with ideas.

There's the obvious things like taking Steve to a basketball game or listening to his ABBA and Tears for Fears tapes with him (without complaining loudly about it the whole time). But beyond that, he's pretty stumped. So he goes to Robin.

"Rob, you gotta help me out here," he begs her. "Tell me what Steve's hobbies are, you know him better than anyone."

"Shouldn't you know his hobbies? You guys have been dating for months," Robin replies.

"Yeah, but he doesn't ever talk to me about these sorts of things, we always end up talking about my interests instead, which I know is so shitty. Please, Robin, help me to not be a shitty boyfriend," he gives her the best puppy dog eyes he can manage and she caves pretty quickly, settling in to help him make a list of all of the things Steve is into.

It doesn't take long for them to realize that Robin doesn't know any better than Eddie does what Steve is into. This, of course, makes them both feel bad. So Eddie resolves to go straight to the source. He talks to Steve about it.

Eddie apologizes for not even knowing what things his boyfriend is into enough to enjoy those things with him, but Steve just shrugs it off. He genuinely likes a lot of the stuff that Eddie has introduced him to, he still doesn't really like metal music and he doesn't have any desire to play D&D, but he likes taking Eddie to concerts and feeling the energy of the crowd; he loves going to Eddie's performances at the Hideout and watching his boyfriend be an absolute rockstar; he likes sitting in on D&D sessions and watching Eddie in his element as DM; he likes listening to Eddie read his favorite books aloud to Steve, doing different voices for each character.

But Eddie still feels bad, because it shouldn't be all about his hobbies all the time, relationships go two ways and he wants to support Steve's interests too. He tells him this, but Steve just shrugs it off again and says that he doesn't really have any interests.

And Eddie gets it. Gets that Steve has spent his entire life living for other people, being King Steve, keeping his parents happy and everyone around him in awe. He hasn't really gotten a chance to just be himself, to even figure out who he is and what he likes.

And Eddie gets it, but he also hates it. He wants Steve to find who he is and what he loves, he wants to give him that chance. He wants Steve to find things to be passionate about too, because everyone deserves to have things to be passionate about.

"Okay," he says. "So, lets find you some then."

Steve just sort of blinks at him then asks, "What?"

"Lets find you some interests, something of your own to be passionate about,"

Steve considers for a moment. "Um, okay, how exactly do we do that? Just test out hobbies until something sticks?" He asks, not really being serious.

"Yeah," Eddie says, and he is being serious. "Try interests on like clothes and get rid of them if they don't fit. Let me help you find something that you love, Stevie, you deserve to have passions just like anyone else."

Steve thinks about it for a moment, before quietly asking, "And you'll help me?"

Eddie nods, "Yeah, baby, I'll help you."

And thus begins the journey to find Steve some hobbies.

#i'm gonna write a fic about it but i wanted to post the idea here first #steddie #steddie hcs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #is this a ficlet? i am a bit unclear on what qualifies as a ficlet #regardless. it will eventually be a full fic #i already have it planned out hehehe #anya.txt

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marsupialmenace · 4 months

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Been thinking about Bruce, tying Jason down and worshipping him. Paying special attention to every single scar, whether visible or not, that he caused.

A soft kiss pressed to Jason's abdomen, feeling it flutter as Jason tenses. Little nips of teeth between Jason's legs, the fractures having healed years ago, but the ache remains. Licking along the faint scar on Jason's neck, and kissing back down it to Jason's collarbone.

Bruce whispers sorry after each one. So quiet in the room, and only just loud enough over Jason's gasps. It's not enough. It'll never be enough for his boy. Bruce could say "I'm sorry," and "please forgive me," and "I love you" until he was blue in the face, but it would never be enough to chase away the guilt.

So he worships, and lavishes Jason in a way that he hopes conveys the depths of his feelings.

Until Jason is shaking and sobbing and feeling seen and loved and remembered. Bruce resting his forehead against Jason's as he finally sinks down on him, both breathing the same air, reminding each other they're alive.

#jaybru #brujay #jason todd #bruce wayne #my ideas #I just want them to be soft today #might write a full fic about it later >.<

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hbdttg · 1 year

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Eddie, or something that used to be Eddie, wanders the Upside Down in the aftermath of it all.

He may not know where or who he is, but he knows he belongs. His heartbeat syncs with those of the screeching creatures that soar up above. The thrumming in his veins mirrors the pulsing of the vines that cover the ground at his feet. The hunger at his core is shared by the flower-faced beasts that roam the earth on all fours. He belongs, so he must be home.

Weeks after waking—or months, or years; time is unpredictable in this place, moving at whatever speed it so chooses, sometimes not moving at all—Eddie happens upon a gate. It's located on Morehead Street and small enough that he might have walked right past it if not for its peculiar orange glow.

Curious, Eddie digs his clawed fingers into its center, tearing through the viscous membrane until there's enough space for him to crawl through. He drags his scarred body through the tiny opening, dropping onto the other side with practiced grace. He finds himself atop what appears to be a crumbling staircase, overlooking a decrepit landscape that stretches on for miles.

Gone are the blue-gray skies, replaced with hazy red, roiling fog, and flashes of vibrant lightning. Gone is the air damp with rot, replaced with a sticky blanket of humidity and the scent of acrid smoke so thick he can taste it on his tongue.

Eddie descends the staircase, heedless of the wet squelch his shoe makes when he steps through a puddle of black, oily liquid at the bottom. Intrigued, he runs a pale hand lightly over a nearby tower of stalagmite. The place is littered with them, pointed spires made of knotted, dormant vines.

Eddie steps toward one of the larger spires, taking in the figure encased in its vines. It's a human girl, fair-haired and slight in stature, held upright against her tower by large, twisted tendrils. There's no life in her, just the stench of death and decay.

For a fleeting moment, Eddie thinks he might know her. But that's impossible. He knows only his brethren, knows only their chitters in the dark and their shrieks overhead.

He turns away from the girl, staunchly ignoring the deja vu that grips him as he walks away from her. It unsettles him, that niggling feeling he's missing something important here.

Without warning, a bell begins to toll, its ominous knell crashing through the air like thunder. The distant sound of footsteps reaches his ears next, accompanied by heavy, panting breaths and the occasional hissed curse.

Eddie conceals himself behind a partially standing wall, peering through its broken glass windows in search of his interloper. He spies a figure approaching, running through the fog in a zig zag pattern, as though trying to evade something. As the figure gets closer and Eddie can make out more of its features, he realizes it's a boy, carrying a bat embedded with nails and dressed in a brown leather jacket underneath a battered denim vest.

Denim vest?

Eddie doesn't have time to dwell on the vague sense of familiarity that flashes through him at the sight of this boy—of the vest—because the fog and miasma behind him slowly start to clear, revealing a large, gnarled creature walking calmly after him.

"Why do you run from me, Steven?" the creature says, its voice sinister and seductive, a long-stemmed rose laden with thorns. "You asked me to find you. You begged to be mine. Because you know, Steve, that only I can end your suffering."

The boy skids to a halt beside the body of the girl. He whirls around to face the creature, throwing an arm up to point at her remains. "End my suffering like you ended Chrissy's?"

Steve? Chrissy?

The creature laughs, an ugly, croaking sound that sends shivers up Eddie's spine. "She is beautiful now," it croons. "And you will be, too, once you join us."

And that confuses Eddie. Because despite his dirtied appearance, windswept hair, sweat-slicked face, and scarred neck, the boy before him is already beautiful.

"You want me?" the boy—Steve—spits as he brings both hands together, knuckles going white as he tightens them around the handle of his bat. He raises it between him and the creature, widening his stance and shifting his weight between his feet in anticipation of a fight. "Come and get me!"

As soon as the words leave his lips, the vines at his feet spring to life, shooting up and thrusting him back against a nearby spire. The force of it visibly knocks the breath out of Steve, but he was apparently expecting something like this, because he managed to bring one hand up to the level of his eye before he was fully immobilized, trapping his wrist in the hold one of the vines has against his neck.

"Poor, foolish Steve," the creature says, slowly approaching him. It huffs out a derisive laugh as it steps over the fallen nail bat, then reaches out a thrawn, leathery hand, hovering it over Steve's face, clawed fingers curling as if to grasp him, puncture him. "You cannot run from me."

Steve gasps and struggles against his binds, but goes still when something new resounds through the air—the sudden blare of an electric guitar, followed by a series of deep and distorted notes that Eddie can feel in his very bones.

Drums come crashing in, loud and unapologetic, and he revels in the sheer power of it all, letting the music wash over him and set his nerves alight.

"Try and stay very still," the creature murmurs, giving the noise no mind. "It will all be over soon."

Slowly, Steve's brows unfurrow and he actually smiles. "Yes, it will," he manages to choke out, the challenge in his voice apparent despite its compromised state, "but not in the way you think."

As if on cue, a voice rings out, rough and raspy and angry and perfect above the thunderous melody that fills the air. The words are familiar, seared in Eddie's mind like a memory. Without a doubt, he knows this song. If only he could remember how he knows it.

With the voice comes a gate, though it's unlike the one Eddie came in through. Its edges are wispy, like the fog itself cleared to make an opening, and he can see clearly through it to the other side.

The scene features three unconscious bodies. The first is Steve's, wearing a set of headphones and levitating several feet off the ground. The second is a young girl's, floating in a bathtub with a blindfold tied around her head. The third is a boy's, slumped over the side of the tub with his fingers intertwined with the girl's.

A gaggle of children are split between them, some kneeling by the tub and others standing below Steve, jumping and screaming up at him. Their faces are so familiar. Eddie wishes he could place them. But all he has to go on are the frantic pounding of his heart and the bone-deep feeling that these people, these strangers, are important.

There are older kids scattered about, too, one of which has her hands wrapped around Steve's ankle, yelling as she tries to keep him tethered. Her voice is muffled, but Eddie can make out her panicked, "That's enough, dingus, it's time to come back! They've got it from here!"

The song swells, powerful and ferocious, and Eddie feels the chords right in his very heartstrings. He looks down at his hands, watches some muscle memory react viscerally to the song's fury, watches his fingers start to curl as if itching to rest on a fretboard.

"This is for Eddie, you ugly son of a bitch!" Steve yells up at the creature. He manages to leverage a bit of space with his trapped hand, then—at the crest of an absolutely face-melting guitar solo—drops his head to take a huge, violent bite out of the vine wrapped around his neck.

Several things happen at once:

1) The creature—Vecna—rears back, affected enough by Steve's display of unhinged ferality that the vines loosen their grip on him. Steve bursts out of Vecna's hold and starts sprinting toward the gate.

2) Two figures materialize behind Vecna: the girl and the boy from the other side. He must be Will the Wise, in all his bowl-cut glory. And she must be Supergirl, if the way she blasts Vecna straight through a nearby wall is any indication.

3) Eddie fucking remembers.

He remembers Hawkins and the Upside Down. He remembers Vecna, and Chrissy, and nearly every single face on the other side of the gate.

He remembers Dustin sobbing over his dying body; he remembers Max offering up herself up as bait; he remembers Lucas turning on the basketball team to help his true friends; he remembers Erica thrusting a belt made of literal bullets into his hands; he remembers Nancy wielding a felonious shotgun into battle; he remembers Robin's knowing expression at hunt the freak. He remembers Mike Wheeler, and Jonathan Byers, and—well, not the long-haired guy next to Jonathan, but that's probably fine.

And of course, he remembers the boy who'd stripped off his yellow sweater and thrown it in Eddie's slack-jawed face, who'd worn Eddie's battle vest over his still-bleeding battle wounds, who'd walked side-by-side with Eddie in a forest full of danger and decay, who'd blushed so prettily when Eddie called him big boy, who'd held Eddie's gaze and warned him not to play hero.

Eddie remembers Steve.

Later, once they both tumble through the gate and end up on the ground in a pile of limbs, Eddie will groan low in his throat and try to untangle himself from Steve's heavy body. Steve, terrified that he might have brought something dangerous back with him, will twist on top of Eddie and nearly slam his head down into the tiled floor, stopping himself only once he realizes exactly who he has pinned under him.

Later, once the party finally stops screaming in response to Eddie's sudden appearance—to his literal resurrection—Steve will drag him into his chest and clutch desperately at his back, rocking their bodies back and forth in near-catatonic shock. Eddie will clutch him back just as tightly, drenching his shirt with hot, wet tears.

Later, after Vecna is reduced to mere dust and Eddie struggles to heal from his months of being trapped alone in an alternate dimension, he'll dial Steve's phone number in the dead of night just to hear another person's voice. Steve will talk about nothing and everything, hanging up only when he can hear Eddie's breaths slow and finally even out through the line.

Later, Steve will admit he purchased Metallica's record shortly after Eddie's supposed death, wanting to hear the song he played in the Upside Down, the legendary song he used to brand himself as bait before running off to protect Dustin and buy the rest of the party more time. Eddie will hide the pleased little thrill that rushes through him at Steve's admission by throwing an arm around him and insisting they'll make a metalhead of him yet.

Later, Eddie will bring the subject up again, curious to know how the song became Steve's Vecna song. Surely he had other options that he'd cherished for far longer than the several months he'd known Master of Puppets. Steve will quietly confess that the song made him think of Eddie, of a fiery, vibrant life snuffed out too soon. And though Steve made the mistake of not turning from the Creel house and running back to Eddie that night in the Upside Down, he knew if he'd ever have to fight for his life trapped in a Vecna mind prison, he'd do it right. He wouldn't for one second hesitate to run toward the song—to run toward Eddie.

Later, Steve will gently cup Eddie's cheek and press in, close enough that they both have to go slightly cross-eyed to keep eye contact, that they feel each other's nervous, shallow breaths in the space between them. Eddie will grapple with the slew of feelings swirling messily in his ribcage before his stubborn resolve wins out and he presses his lips against Steve's in a long overdue kiss.

Later, Steve and Eddie will fall in love. But now?

Now, Steve runs.

And Eddie, or the something that never truly stopped being Eddie, follows.

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #been fixating on this hc that steve's vecna song became master of puppets after they lost eddie #and instead of being normal and writing about it in his pov i decided to do this instead #also this isn't a full kas!eddie situation but i love the idea of eddie losing himself in the upside down #maybe his body's a lil wonky when he comes back who knows? depending on your level of monsterfucker you can choose to believe what you want #spot the phantom reference lol #fic writing #hbd

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theminecraftbee · 2 years

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“You let the Entity eat Mumbo?”

“I didn’t mean to! Let is a strong word!” wails Grian. He’s been cornered to the side of his cave by Scar and Iskall. He’s covering his face awkwardly with his hands and cowering. Good. At least he knows how much of a serious idiot he’s been being.

“I can’t believe you!” Iskall says. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“It was fine!” Grian says. “It was - I had it perfectly well-handled. I already had the Rift and everything, all I needed to do was -”

“You don’t have a handle on the Rift either,” Scar says.

“Shut up,” Grian says. There’s a strange, ominous growl to his voice. Not for the first time, Iskall eyes the stone claws at the end of Grian’s fingers warily. His eyes have always been that weird blank black, but lately they seem especially so. For a moment, Iskall is quiet.

“Okay,” Iskall says. “Fine. You didn’t mean to.” Iskall doesn’t actually believe that, which is also a little terrifying, but he’ll get to that later. “You’re still going to march with me right to - I guess Ren?” He looks at Scar.

Scar shrugs. “I mean, I guess? We don’t have an authority for - for people who get their best friends eaten by their pet rock. I mean, I guess that could be an Xisuma problem, but sometimes I think Tango is better with that stuff and I am not letting Tango near the Entity.”

“What he said,” Iskall says.

“Ren’s going to throw me in jail if I do that. He’s already after my head!”

“Tough shit!” Iskall says.

“Gasp. You said a swear,” Scar says.

“Yes! Because the situation is fucking serious!” Iskall says. “I know it’s funny to say that Mumbo has - it’s been months Grian! Months of you saying he was fine! Months of - if the Entity hadn’t done - well, we wouldn’t know if it hadn’t been for that! Months!”

Iskall and Scar both shudder, remembering what they’d seen of the Entity. Yes, that had pretty thoroughly showed them just how Grian had been lying. Iskall’s never going near it again. All he can think of is flesh and blood and dripping viscera and a familiar face in a place it shouldn’t be twisted in ways it - and Grian had been claiming Mumbo was on vacation.

“I’m not - I have it under control. Look at Grumbot Prime. We have a - it’s under control,” Grian says. “Please. You can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone. Please it’s under control I have it just let me -”

“No, Grian,” Scar says. “We’re going to take this to people who can help. And we’re going to hope it’s not too late.” There’s a long pause. “I’m - I’m not very happy with you,” Scar adds, and the tone that he says it in says everything else.

Grian falls silent. He’s just... staring now. It’s eerie. He’s almost completely still. It’s not how Grian reacts to things. Scar nods and reaches for Grian, and for a moment, Iskall is terrified. He almost stops Scar then.

Something is horribly wrong.

Nothing happens. Grian is nearly limp in Scar’s hands as he’s lifted up. Scar’s expression is odd and blank. It makes sense, given the circumstances, but Iskall is suddenly deeply, deeply aware of the purple light that bathes everything here and those damned stone claws Grian has these days that he’s still not using.

“We’ll get this sorted,” Iskall says, instead of any of his misgivings.

Grian is silent. Iskall looks at Scar over Grian’s head and, together, they start frog marching him to the shopping district, where hopefully they can get him in front of people who can figure out how to rescue Mumbo.

Iskall hopes.

(He feels like something is watching them.)

#hermitcraft #a bee fic #body horror #gore #...do i need to tag this with cannibalism please respond #grian #iskall #goodtimeswithscar #hey so i had this HORRIBLE thought about where mumbo could have canonically gone if we wanted to reach for the horror concepts because like #listen. listen. if we want mumbo to be missing. there's an easy way right there.#haha. hahahaha. haha.#anyway glad to write something that's fucked up for no reason again this is a return to form #this is just like. a SNIPPET of the idea here. not even a full thought. please elaborate if you have elaboration it is one am i don't.

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horsechestnut · 9 months

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(Whoops my hand slipped and started writing a Batfam Umbrella Academy AU)

From the Personal Notes of Mr. Bruce Wayne:

00.01 - Ability to manipulate gravitational fields allows for advanced gymnastic and combat capabilities. A strong leader, the others look up to him. Loyal to a fault, but needs to be watched carefully. Will choose the other children over himself or me.

00.02 - Determined, focused, strong willed. Has learned to use her ability to analyze the surroundings and formulate a plan prior to attack. Unfortunately lacks any leadership qualities and fails to communicate these plans to the team, preferring to act alone. Still has much to learn, but is eager to do so. My favorite.

00.03 - Adequate marksmanship and proficiency with ranged weapons. Can hold his own in a fight but relies to heavily on his powers. Insolent, can not take instruction or direction. His recklessness will be his undoing.

00.04 - Development of photokinesis is hindered by his unwillingness to fully commit to manipulating shadows as well as light. Charming and a neutral leader. Should Number 1 ever fail, he would be the best choice to replace him.

00.05 - Connection to animals has yet to prove useful. Fighting skills and determination on par with Number 2, but is unpredictable at best. Refuses to admit when he doesn’t know something. Has no respect for anyone but himself.

00.06 - Still fails to reach the full potential of psychometry abilities. Refuses to accept the possibility that he may be able to see into the future as well as the past. Useful for research and not much else.

00.07 - No clear talents. Some enthusiasm for puzzles and mediocre problem solving abilities. To headstrong. Irritating.

#batfam au #batfam #batfamily #umbrella academy au #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #cassandra cain #duke thomas #(Barbara is also there but she's not one of The Umbrella Academy kids)#bruce wayne #Bruce is maybe a little more harsh here than normal #but it's based on the picture of Reginald's notes #so i tried to mimic his style of writing #(really want to make a full fic but can't quite figure out what Steph's power is yet)#(also with the exception of Dick I haven't really read many comics about any of them)#(so I'm a little scared I'd end up using fanon characterizations by accident and I don't want to do that)#if you want to talk about it though please hit me up I've got so many ideas and for it I'd love to share #(also sorry to my followers I know I already posted this but that was a reblog and I spent a lot of time on it)#(So I want to actually give it a shot at being a successful post)#batfamily umbrella academy au #the bat academy au

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paimonial-rage · 16 days

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type - heizou [random writing event] | requested by @ebi-samaaa

Shikanoin Heizou really wasn’t your type. Sure he was handsome, and yes, his voice was rather nice to listen to. His flirtatious nature was definitely attractive. If only his face wasn’t so childish looking. And if only he weren’t just a little bit taller. Really, it really was a shame. If it were not for those things, he would have stolen your heart right off the shelves.

And really, it truly was such a shame, for the man was desperately in love with you. Completely head over heels one could say. No matter how many times you tried to shake him off, he chased after you relentlessly. He wanted you with such a passion that you often had to stop your heart from skipping a beat whenever your thoughts inevitably lead toward him.

As you walked down the long hallways of Tenshukaku, you wondered if you’d see him this evening. It was the night of the full moon, after all. Wouldn’t it be such a romantic backdrop to highlight the excitement of the event you were soon to partake? He surely wouldn’t leave you hanging, would he? You did send him an invitation, after all.

So as you stepped into the central room, you couldn’t mask the smile that curled the corners of your lips. It was empty, not that you were very surprised. If you planned it right, the Tenryou Commission and its soldiers were currently occupying the Hiiragi complex on high alert. All that work only for their honored guest of the evening to be a no show. How sad, but it really wasn’t your fault they didn’t know how to read a calling card.

With a soft chuckle, you gazed fondly at the pedestal at the center of the room. There, sitting upon plush velvet, was your target for the evening—a slightly faded black pearl inlaid in a silver ring. It didn’t take you long to pluck it up from its stand to slide over your finger. And, oh, how the luster shined in the moonlight. But as much as you wished to lose yourself in its beauty, duty came calling.

“My my, Detective,” you crooned sweetly, “We really must stop meeting like this.”

A laugh came from behind.

“I gotta hand it to you. When you said you’d be targeting the Evening Moon’s Jewel on a night like this, not even I thought you’d come for the New Moon.”

You spun and leaned against the pedestal with a careless huff.

“Oh come now, Detective,” you cried with a mocking pout. “It shouldn’t have taken you very long to notice the Hiiragi’s Full Moon pearl is nothing better than an elaborate fake. You should be thanking me for giving you a little excitement on such a boring evening.”

He smiled as he took a step forward, his stance purposely relaxed.

“Thank you for breaking the law? We’ve known each other for so long. I must say I’m hurt.”

You grinned cheekily.

“Oh, don’t say that. I was only joking. I was looking ever so forward to meeting you this evening. I really don’t get to see you as often as I would like, you know, so let’s make the most of it, hm?”

And with that anemo powered punch he threw at you soon after, you really hoped he wouldn’t be smart enough to check out the hospital the day after.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #shikanoin heizou #heizou #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #my writing #writing event #request #ebi-samaaa #all of these fics i really want to polish up but i'm like doing my best not to spend more than two hours per fic #this is an idea i've been wanting to do for a while #a lupin to heizou's holmes #if it isn't clear there are two evening moon jewels: the full moon and the new moon #the full moon (owned by the hiiragis) is a white pearl #the new moon (located in tenshukaku) is a black pearl #and if the ending doesn't make sense reader is fully expecting to have a broken bone by the end of the evening #they're willing to forgive him tho because he's their type and is fun haha #i really want to put these fics under readmores but they're like.... too short for that? so it's like this long but not too long post ugh #thank you for the request though!!

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