Time for some time shenanigans?
Here is an idea.
Time is an interesting thing but not something one should mess with unless your the being ruling over it. And in a moment of true Clockwork No! Clockwork Yes! Fashion. The ruler of time decided that something needed to be done to help his king heal once more after having lost his family.
And as someone who lived millennial of years and no real understanding of humans aside from what he sees from watching timelines, Clockwork came up with the, in his opinion, perfect solution. Deaging his king into a toddler and sending him into the past to expirence some familial love. He had made sure his little king was getting picked up by the man with an adoption problem. A family with a lot of siblings for his king to love and to get loved back.
Now, that would all be fine and dandy if Clockwork had remembered to at least seal or erase his kings memories. The problem was he didn't. But really, what could his little king with his memories but the mind of a toddler do?
Apparently a lot. Espacially with the help of the family that picked him up.
Okay, plan B. Clockwork was going to send all his king's rogues to keep him and his vigilante family occupied so his king would stop attempting to get to Amity Park and change his own past and focus more on his new family.
Meanwhile the bat clan is freaking out. Their newest baby brother of 3 years old appears to be the constant target of other worldy attacks they barely managed to protect him from. Why were these weird beings after a little toddler that hasn't harmed anyone?! And why in the name of anything good did it look like the toddler was okay with fighting them too?!
707 notes
·
View notes
@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)
wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood
Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital
'Hospital Blankets'
“Steve? Hey, Steve?”
Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.
“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.
His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.
“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.
Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.
He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.
He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.
But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…
It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.
“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”
He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.
Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.
He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.
Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.
“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.
Eddie needs it more.
With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.
“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.
“I’m fine,” Steve protests.
Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.
“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”
His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.
His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.
Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…
Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.
At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.
The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.
His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.
“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.
He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.
Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.
“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.
Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.
205 notes
·
View notes
Genuinely enamored and curious about what changes in Keigo's brain once he loses his virginity.
Like, does he look at you the next morning before you stir awake with light in his eyes and heat boiling his chest? Thinking, "oh. Oh, god. I've been inside you. Fuck—"
Does he start to panic a little with the responsibility and newness of it all? Does that feeling morph to a warm ache over time, before finally settling to familiarity?
Does he feel an all too satisfied pep in his step the next day? Or does his heart hammer with a buzzing need to take you again? And again, and again, and again.
Do his cheeks and ears sear at the memory of it? Does his skin burn? Does he replay the events in his head over and over, at first to analyze what he can improve upon before the sounds of your moans start repeating like a broken record in his mind and he has to excuse himself in search of cold water?
Thinking of Keigo shedding his clothes when he comes home to you. Thinking of him latching his mouth where his body calls him to as he indulges and satisfies that need to fill and be filled. Thinking of how much all of this is saturated with his very first love.
361 notes
·
View notes