last three lines tag <3
rules: post the last three lines you've written and if has been over a week, write something new in a wip!!
tagged by the charming and effervescent and ever-lovely @snowangeldotmp3 @fragilecapric0rnn @fastcardotmp3 @judasofsuburbia @cuoredimuschio and @cheatghost
it's been a minute but the writing worms are starting to wriggle again!! i have the day off and finally got to crack into diyc again for the first time in waaay too long, so without further ado, the first 3 lines i've written in months:
“Missed me, sweetheart?”
“Like crazy,” Steve says, not even trying to hide it. He’d miss Eddie after an hour. The last three days have been just shy of torture.
reverse uno right back at all of you, and @figthefruitfaeth @heybluechild @starryeyedjanai @sharpbutsoft and @thefreakandthehair too!!
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Soft Touch Baby
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3
(Holy shit, y’all, FIVE parts and the notes STILL aren’t slowing down and I’m not even a Steddie/ST blog. Y’all are STARVED for content huh 😂)
Steve is confused, scared—terrified—and pissed off.
They’d made it. They’d been done with it. Done with all the Upside Down shit but it turns out the Upside Down wasn’t done with them, with him, because now they’re back and there’s bats everywhere and Steve can’t find his nail bat, come on, where is it, it was right here—
There. He lunges for it, wraps his fingers around the handle, feels the splinters pressing into his fingertips. One swing. One bat down. Hundreds, thousands more to go. He moves on autopilot, swinging and smashing and stomping and doing what he can. It’s not enough. It was never going to be enough, but he can’t just sit idly by and watch the world end.
“Dustin,” he yells, because he can see him, right in front of him, and there’s bats everywhere and why isn’t he listening, he’s standing, he’s alive, so why—
And then Steve sees. His bat falls from numb fingers. He doesn’t register as his fingertips begin to bleed.
A trash can lid, with nails imbedded in it like Steve’s bat. A hand, lying limp, not but a foot away.
Steve follows the hand up to the rest of the body, not understanding, not wanting to understand, but his eyes move up, up, up without his permission, landing on Eddie’s face, and he doesn’t recognize the sound he makes, doesn’t recognize that he makes a sound at all.
“Eddie,” he whimpers. “No- no, please-”
Eddie’s eyes are open, staring unseeingly into the distance, but when Steve speaks they slide over to focus on him. “Hey, Steve,” he says, and his teeth are bloody but he’s smiling and Steve’s dam breaks, and the tears come, and he’s falling to his knees beside Eddie.
“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, “it’s okay,” but no, that’s not right, Steve’s not the one dying, he shouldn’t be the one needing comfort—
“Steve,” Eddie says again, stronger this time. His hand twitches, and Steve all but trips over himself to grab it.
“Eddie, no, you’re-” he chokes on a sob. Knows what Eddie’s going to say. Knows he can’t hear it. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, you just hold on.”
“Steve,” Eddie says again, even stronger, and suddenly bats are attacking, clawing at his shoulders and torso and back and they descend upon Eddie like one of those Bible plagues, and Steve’s screaming, trying to help, and they’re on him again and—
He sits up with a gasp, and something in the dark room skitters back, and he can’t hear anything above the sound of his own gasps. He’s looking around for his bat, but it’s behind whatever moved back, so he looks around for something, anything, eyes wide, throat catching in panic by the time the figure raises its hands.
The creature moves forward, cautiously, hands out, but Steve still can’t see what it is, and he presses against the headboard, watching in barely contained panic as the creature begins to step towards him, slowly, until it’s sat on the foot of his bed.
His eyes flick up occasionally, towards the face, but they’re backlit and their hair is long and curly and something in Steve’s brain is saying it should be familiar but right now it just blocks their face even more.
Eventually his breathing slows down enough he can hear again, the blood stops rushing through his ears, and oh, God, he knows that voice, but that’s not possible, he’s dead, Steve watched him die—
“Didn’t die, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs. “You saved me. Saved all of us. C’mon, come back. I don’t know where your brain’s taking you but I do know it’s not fun, focus on me, on my voice, on my breathing. Wanna touch me? Make sure I’m real? Whatever you need. I’m kinda following your example here.”
Steve’s breath hitches again, and his hands are trembling and his throat is dry and his voice cracks but it works. “Eddie.”
“Right here,” he promises immediately, moving closer to perch on the edge of the bed, and Steve all but collapses on him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and sliding shaking hands around his torso.
Eddie’s hands come up to rub his back, hold his neck, and Steve could cry, is crying, trying and failing to hold back the tears, giving up when Eddie leans in close and whispers, “I’ve got you.”
Steve falls apart, trusting Eddie to pick up the pieces.
Pt 6
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Who's your favourite OC you've ever made? Is it the same or different to the one you've developed the most?
AGSGJAHGA, I love all my children very much, and sometimes I lean towards less developed ones because there’s more to spin around and do with them haha (I’m sorry guys)
BUT! I would say fave is gremlin child SHIRAKO 白子!
It’s hard to beat a 12 year old child from a secret yakuza family who runs around town with a katana, yelling お前開けてほしいか?(you want me to open you up?)
And her mom endorses her behavior hee hee.
I seem to always be coming up with more lore for her, but she is technically the least fleshed out so she’s kinda as much a surprise to me as she is to the people in her verse. Shirako was my impromptu Japanese class assignment story MC, and she stuck with me and now she’s my special gremlin baby :)
I think she’s special because there’s more about how Shirako came to be, some close classmates contributed to the birth of the beloved katana swinging idiot, so it’s kinda nostalgic whenever I drop Shira lore. Her catchphrase is, full disclosure, not fully my idea. So yea, she’s special that way. She’s very loved
Also, I have Shirako Stories! They’re just in iffy Japanese, but there are Shirako one shots. Just not published because uh, the Japanese is questionable. But see, the nuances is kinda there with the Japanese. She doesn’t go to school, so the crappy Japanese and vulgarity is kinda how she should be. Cuz she does run around as a gremlin and doesn’t care about grammar. That’s the Shirako charm.
Anyways, maybe one day… I’ll publish some Shira stories with translations haha.
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