#froz

[frozenhaart]

Another sticker (or more?) but of my fursona this time. I might make it into charm one day, for now simple things Cx might be shirt des. for myself.~

Froz and art belongs to me, do not use!

[jimunderscore]

I push through the crowds of the ringed floors of the orbital viewers, not giving a care for the presenting match. I find the callous face of the Vicar, surrounded by his bandit court and tributary entertainers of flesh, but he is always around in any locale.

Merely there to haunt my mind hoped I would have found that soul-bound person near him, but I am relieved such is not the case. Yet to my frustration, I could not find that person, I never got their name, address, or their face really, it all just happened so quickly. I searched the crowds of the arena until everyone left. What a lost opportunity, why did I let them go? I felt a spark in their eyes as we looked atop the roofs, I felt a true sense of companionship, of understanding as we pondered the stars. It's impossible patterns and quantity, they seem more beautiful under their breath.

As I stand outside, and look at the moons, I feel the desire to surrender myself to the elements. Once again alone and worthless. A bitter tear rolls from my eye and blinds me with the reflection of the city lights. I feel like I've lost something... maybe I gained something in return, an exchange of souls. It is a bittersweet memory, but maybe they do also think of me the same way. Maybe they forgot about me completely, I am just glad to have met them. But now every night I look at the moon, I think of them, as an idea. What could have bloomed from it? I don't know who they are or what they even looked like, I wasn't ready to meet someone. I was not in the right situation in my mind, I just enjoyed the lavish freedom of being there, with someone. We held hands as the scenes passed. It was the only thing I can remember of them. If only that serenity could have been an eternity, everything is an ever-rotating mess once. I just want that peace again, the peace of being understood in these Frozen wastes, maybe i would wander no more for them. I'd do anything to feel such a comfort, maybe it's a hedonistic dream but I care not for who I was trained to be, I want to be there for somebody, a true sense of belonging. Not an abandoned mistake.

[froztox23]

Ummmmmm new fursona!!!!! let’s go girlies!!!!!!!

Species is felid-adjacent plushie!

[killyourrdarlingss]

[froz-chiquita]

PARTE 27.- ¡La Bestia despierta!, pero pasa de la sartén al fuego Cuadros 451-465 Si a alguien le interesa pueden encontrar la tira al día en algunas de mis otras redes: Linktr.ee/theblackterror

[nikozombie]

Moth pyromancer!

[meridian59]

[swagging-back-to]

gonna make some pesto tonight

[frozenhaart]

Something on quick, very first pic in 2023 which is Rabbits Year ;) Fro a moon/space bunny hehe

[jimunderscore]

silly writing quotes

"If everything ends tommorow then today becomes important"

"Let all life of the universe assemble into a wailing chorus, for the end is now. A final unity, a final peace. All wars matter little, all conflicts are petty, merely people grasping at the little power they have. Now when it all ends, everyone gains true sight. In the end there is a joy, and then nothing. Eternal peace. Our people will kill themselves eventually, i do not want that. I provide a mercy upon my people, i take up that burden to know that I haven't lead my people to extinction, but I simply made them extinct. The cycle of suffering is over, there is just now and then never."

"Why do we burden each other with hate? Knowledge, what it is good for? Just knowing and never using that knowledge, we only hoard knowledge because we are obsessed with it. We merely want to know more then the other so that we can manipulate them. And in so we lose our innocence, we lose the ignorant bliss. When you are small and unknowing then the sunsets are beautiful, the way the clouds and skies morph their colours at angles, the insects doing their job and the blossoming of flowers, people helping one another and the nameless art of the streets. When you know, when you become big. All that beauty is lost, you can understand thus lose the charm. Art becomes merely images and no value, you know how stars form and did and how people manipulate and kill, there is no more beauty in autumn and spring. Why live? Why must I be burden with such paths? Was I never meant to walk the calm roads and see the illumination of distant stars and houses? No one will be able to manipulate others with knowledge, no more cutthroat arms race to be more knowledgeable, No one else shall suffer such miserable fate, let the candle melt and wither but in the final smoke. No more pain."

"We have traveled so far to only learn that our ancestors have not learned the same lessons despite the end of all? Our mystical home is full of the same injustices such as our and they haven't tried to combat it. Simply accepted their situation, their abuse. They have let the noble earth to rot and die, why? The corporations have raped the earth and they are fine with it? Every person who has tried combating their cruel leadership wasn't even written out of history, no they instead revision their fate. Making them villains and ultimate evil, the idea of not supporting the governance is seen as wrong. No, this isn't the earth we dreamed of, this isn't the cradle of humanity. The place we worshiped is dead, it has been dead all this time. Merely a dream we have collectively fantasized to give us hope, hope that somewhere is better. That somewhere was our home, not this place full of cruelty and death, paragons of destruction and exploitation rule this hollow planet. Farewell humanity, for I rescend it. Let it be for we are no longer human, we are ourselves for we fought for it. We have earned our freedom and freedom isn't given but earned, we cannot help earth for it cannot help itself. They do not need to know of us here or ever, only when they learn may it be worthwhile to speak to them. It is cruel but it is right, for to survive one must learn from their own struggle. Not be handed the solution, it won't be easy for them as it was for us, but if they wish to survive and be free then they must struggle. Our ancestral home has died and has never lived. Farewell Humankind."

"Earth to us is like a demented parent sending their child to death, not expecting them to survive. Despite this we have survived at great costs, scars which have not healed we have returned expecting answers to only be betrayed as they have lost their responsibility to the loss of their mind. How can we affiliate with such cruelty and ignorance? Have the children of those responsible for sending our ancestors so far away from home remember us? I doubt so, it would be surprising to know that there were myth of our departure, although it is unlikely too. They are no different from the cruel subjugating Godseers by the fact they have decided to rule and kill themselves. It was their choice to commit suicide, any society can rebel and theirs chose not to."

"The universe expresses the boundaries of itself in circular motions thus I've been made in war, promptly I will be unmade in war. If not now then there will be another war, if no wars then I will war upon myself in guilt."

"I have but asked to survive but I've been made into hero, a leader. But no honour befalls me, merely a spectacle is my past. No one thinks of the survivors as husks from within. Merely a representation of the human will. Casting an invisible shadow with a face everyone knows. I should have perished in the rebellion, or maybe on equal grounds with the rest of the Otesh. But I stand here now, a survivor once more, if it means that we must fight ourselves in our homes then so be it. Maybe it is a test of the universe or a punishment for our ignorance."

[froztox23]

Haven’t posted my art on here in a while, have some random ones I’ve done in the past month.

[fickleminder]

50 Ways to Die in the Devildom

To prevent another war, one of the cardinal requirements of the exchange program was for the exchange students to be alive at the end of it. No one said anything about what happens in-between.

Content warnings: violence, blood, gore, lots of death. Halloween 2024 fic 👻

Diavolo nearly spat out his tea laughing. "In the freezer? Lucifer, you sly demon!"

"It got the job done, didn't it?" Lucifer took a sip from his own cup with a satisfied hum. "The human has a pact with one of us now, and there's nobody else I trust more than Mammon."

"Indeed. The responsibility will do him good, on top of securing our contingency plan if things go awry. Excellent work!"

"Thank you, Lord Diavolo."

.

.

.

"Well, that was fast."

"The human didn't even last one month—"

"All of you, shut up." Lucifer knelt next to your body on the floor of the student council room. "Mammon, use the pact to keep track of their soul. Beel, stop licking blood off the tiles and help Asmo with the cleanup. Levi, going for the jugular was quick but messy; you're on cleanup as well. Satan, prepare the materials for the resurrection spell."

"Seriously, all this over a stupid quiz…" Mammon grumbled.

Finally coming back to his senses, Levi spat out the chunk of your neck still in his mouth and started to scream.

.

.

.

Beel took one look at his half-eaten custard before transforming with a roar and stomping towards the culprits.

"N-Now wait a second, Beel! Lemme explain!" Mammon quickly put himself between you and his rampaging brother. He didn't want to have to participate in that dumb ritual again; calling souls back to their bodies was too much effort. "There's a good reason for—"

"You... ate... My... CUSTARD...!" Beel's fists smashed into the kitchen counter, the cupboards, the walls, and anything else he could get his hands on, while Mammon kept you behind him and dodged the blows. Any physical contact with Beel was sure to obliterate you in a heartbeat, and not even Satan would be able to put you back together if that happened.

With his attention focused on Beel, Mammon failed to notice when a chunk of concrete came flying in your direction, clobbering you squarely on the side of your head with a wet CRUNCH.

You hit the floor like a sack of rocks, and both demons froze at the sight of all the innards spilling out of your caved-in skull.

"Not again!" Mammon wailed loudly.

.

.

.

"I don't want to hear it."

Despite the very real threat to his life, Mammon still felt the need to rub it in Lucifer's face. "Hey, I'm just sayin', ya can't pin this one on me this time!"

"At least Luke didn't see anything. I hope." Beel frowned at the little angel's unconscious form in his arms, with the grimoire still clutched tightly in a death grip. The poor kid had fainted when Lucifer unleashed his power and... Well.

To prevent another war, one of the cardinal requirements of the exchange program was for the exchange students to be alive at the end of it.

No one said anything about what happens in-between.

You had literally dropped dead after Lucifer shifted into a higher demon form to intimidate you into getting out of his way. He never intended to use force against you to begin with, but had also completely forgotten that some things were just not meant for mortal eyes. Your eyeballs were burnt to a crisp, leaving behind charred, bloody sockets in your face.

Lucifer rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Mammon, take my card and go buy a new pair of human eyes. Make sure to get them in the right color."

"Ugh, fine, but you're getting Levi to call their soul back!"

.

.

.

Henry 1.0 purred loudly and coiled up to take a nap after his snack.

"Asmo, quit messing around and do something!"

"Shut up, Mammon! Or do you want to get eaten as well?"

"Mmm grilled snake..."

"For the last time, we're not eating Henry 1.0!"

The human-shaped lump in the giant snake's belly was unmoving.

"You realize that if they die, you ain't gonna get this kind of power anymore, right?"

Asmo froze, the drunk smile on his face faltering. Mammon had a point; Solomon had only lent you a tiny fraction of his magic, and yet you were able to draw out so much power in him! It was undeniable, you were one human he definitely had to hold on to.

"I think it's starting to digest—"

"Bad Henry! You spit them out right now or—"

Sighing, Asmo batted his eyelashes at the giant snake and began working his charm.

.

.

.

"I can explain—"

"Let me guess. You tried to make a pact with the human in another pointless bid to get under my skin. They refused, and so you chopped them up. Not exactly helping your chances here, are you."

"Tch. I can put them back together—"

"You'll have to convince one of your brothers to call their soul back, since you obviously can't do it yourself—"

"Don't you think I know that already?!"

"Stop throwing books at me! You should know better than to lose control of your wrath—"

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP—"

"Wait, that book is—!"

*THUNK*

"…"

"…"

"F—"

.

.

.

Belphegor knew you and his brothers were close, but he was still determined to make his point. When he had thrown your body down the stairs and into the foyer as though you were nothing more than a mangled rag doll, he expected tears, anger, heartbreak—

"…Seriously? We just finished the last ritual yesterday!"

"ROFL not it!"

"Not it."

"Not it~"

"Belphie, I missed you so much! Oh, not it."

"You guys are the WORST!"

—not whatever the hell this was.

"What the fuck is happening?!" Belphie snarled, pointing furiously at your corpse. Blood was soaking into the carpet, yet even Lucifer looked only mildly annoyed. "Why aren't any of you mad? The exchange program—"

And then your body dissipated into wisps of fading light, another you poked your head over the top of the stairway to stare at the commotion, and Lucifer gave a long, deep sigh before revealing the secret he'd been keeping for centuries.

.

.

.

You'll get the rest when we get our money back! The note read.

Inside the parcel it came with was a severed hand with broken fingers. The area where your forearm had been sawed off was still sluggishly oozing blood, but Mammon guessed you had probably already bled out by that point.

He shouldn't have left you to walk home by yourself after class, but what's done was done. All he could do now was come and get you and put you back together. It was his responsibility as your first, after all.

Mammon cracked his knuckles with a grin. Time to show those lesser demons why messing with the Great Mammon's human was a bad idea.

.

.

.

"How was I supposed to know they couldn't swim?" Levi complained despite looking thoroughly chastised.

"I shouldn't have had to tell you that a mere human doesn't stand a chance against Lotan's floods." Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Satan was attempting something called CPR, having read about it in a book and wanting to try it out. There was a loud CRACK, followed by a quiet "oh shit", and that was when Lucifer decided to call it a day.

"Levi, cleanup duty. For the entire house."

"But—!"

"Satan, ritual. You can handle the spell on your own this time."

"Tch."

.

.

.

Levi and Beel watched from the broken window on the second floor as you floated face down in the garden's pool fountain. At first they thought the fall would have killed you, but apparently the allure of water from the siren's song was too strong for that.

"…Should I try CPR?" Beel asked after a while.

"Please don't, you'll end up shattering all their ribs like Satan did." Levi grimaced. "Tell you what, if you call their soul back, I'll perform the spell and nobody else has to know."

"Deal."

.

.

.

"Drop it."

*growling*

"Cerberus! I said: Drop. It."

Whining sadly, the giant hellhound lowered his middle head and carefully deposited his cargo at his master's feet. The left head nudged it gently with his snout, and the right one howled mournfully when it did not move.

Lucifer couldn't help the small wince as he took in your state. He could tell it had been quick at least; it wasn't the first time you had to take Cerberus out for his daily walk, but he had likely been in a playful mood today, hence the accident.

Said hellhound was clearly remorseful and kept glancing at the small pile of snacks and toys you had brought along to entertain him during his outing. Even Lucifer softened at the sight, and as he bent down to scoop you into his arms, broken spine and charred flesh and all, he found himself looking forward to personally calling your soul back to him.

.

.

.

When your skin started to break out and swell rapidly, Asmo realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Darling!" He screeched as you clawed at your throat, which had ballooned in the few seconds Asmo took to reach you. The moisturizer he had given you dropped to the floor, and he quickly picked it up to inspect it.

"Acid lavender scented... Demonologist approved..." Asmo murmured as he read the printed label. "For external use only... Hyperallergenic—"

By the time the answer finally clicked in his brain, you had already turned blue. Not a good color on you, in his humble opinion.

.

.

.

The curse was simple: the afflicted would experience random bouts of frostbite on their fingers and toes, no matter how warmly they dressed. The nipping cold would serve as an excellent inconvenience and at worst, it could completely freeze over entire limbs.

Perfect for a stuck up older brother who always dressed like a prude.

Unfortunately for Satan and Belphie, Lucifer was not the first one to touch the newly-cursed air conditioner remote.

"W-what's going on…" You slurred on the floor, curled up and hugging yourself for warmth. You weren't shivering anymore, which was a good sign, right? "Wh-why… s'cold…"

Satan and Belphie exchanged looks. The effects of the prank were clearly more severe on humans, but even then it didn't seem like you were going to kick it anytime soon. They could try to break the curse, but given how complicated it was to cast it in the first place, maybe they were better off putting you out of your misery.

"It's a Devildom thing. We get cold snaps out of the blue sometimes," Satan explained as he cradled you close, feeling as though he were holding a block of ice. "Due to the skies being constantly dark here..."

Belphie's magic trickled into you as Satan distracted you with magical theory, and before long you had gone still in his arms, eyes closed.

.

.

.

"...Are you sure we can't tell Solomon? I mean, we have solid proof that his cooking is lethal now, so this is technically his fault."

"Who the fuck brought his food into the house to begin with?!"

"I did, sorry. He must have snuck some stuff into the basket of pastries Simeon and Luke gave us."

"Seriously, this guy needs to take a hint when everybody tells him to stay out of the kitchen..."

.

.

.

Lucifer was seething. "What. Happened."

"I didn't do nothin'!" Mammon exclaimed, still clutching you tightly. You looked like you were sleeping in his arms, if not for the blue of your lips and your still chest. "We were just walking home, and then the next thing I know, they're eating dirt!"

"Liver failure, brain damage, collapsing lungs…" Satan looked extremely grim after assessing the current state of your body. "There's no singular cause; everything's just… falling to pieces."

Asmo paled. "But why? We've been so careful! We always got the freshest parts, and there hasn't even been an incident in weeks!"

Levi and the twins nodded frantically.

But the truth was undeniable. There were only so many times you could have your organs and limbs replaced or repaired with magic before your body decided to break down completely. Death was inevitable; it was coming for you regardless of how often you'd already cheated it.

How long did you have left before they couldn't bring you back anymore? You had exceeded all their expectations, lasting until the end of the exchange program and beyond, and they'd grown too attached to let you walk out of their lives permanently. You had gone from becoming a chore for them to prevent all-out war to something akin to a beloved house pet.

"What do we do?" Mammon looked to Lucifer for answers.

But for once, the first-born had none.

.

.

.

"Blacked out from stress, you say? How uninspired."

"I know, right? You would think they'd be able to come up with new excuses over time, but nooo, it's always the same old story."

Michael gave a deep sigh. "Those brothers never learn. How long was it before they became complacent and stopped wiping your memory?"

"Four months." You grinned and reached for another scone on the tray of pastries. "To be fair, they do tend to make it quick so there usually isn't much to remember to begin with."

"I still can't believe those idiots thought the Celestial Realm wouldn't find out," Thirteen snorted. "How dare they think I don't know how to do my job!"

"Now Thirteen, it's natural for souls to spend some time in Purgatory before ascending or becoming Damned. Their mistake was assuming the pacts gave them any claim in the first place."

You tilted your head slightly, as though you were listening to something far away. "Speaking of, I think I hear them calling! Thanks for the tea, it was lovely chatting with you, as always."

Michael frowned. "You can't keep this up forever."

"Chill out, Mikey—"

"Don't call me that."

"—it's all good! No need to start a war in my name or anything."

Thirteen rolled her eyes. "He's right, you know. And just because you had nothing going for you in the human realm doesn't mean you have to keep playing along with those brothers in the Devildom."

"What can I say?" You shrugged nonchalantly as the reaper prepared to escort your soul back to your body. "They make me laugh."

[froz-chiquita]

Súbete~

[nikozombie]

Two more drawings I’ve done, some Kamen rider fan art and a drawing of my dnd characters

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

"Always an angel, never a God"

For Jason's whole life, he felt inferior, second, less worthy to Dick Grayson. Dick was charming, kind, and sensitive. It can't be denied that Jason could never be who Dick Grayson is.

That's why when he met you, and when he was absolutely smitten for you, he didn’t mention anything about his family. Especially Dick Grayson. He knew once you met his older brother, you'd drop him in a heartbeat and leave him for Dick.

Sure, you knew that he was the son of Bruce Wayne. But when you mentioned his family, he was quick to drop the subject, and you knew that it was a sensitive topic for him. So you never brought it up again.

You knew he had a falling with Bruce, but you were unaware he had some sort of disliking towards his older brother.

Dick had everything that Jason wanted. Strength, skill, and Bruce's respect. Dick can't have you now. You're the one thing that Jason refuses to let go. He can understand why Dick can have everything he wants. He even understands why you would leave him for Dick. But he wasn't going to let you. He can't.

He just loves you too much.

"Something on your mind, love?" You call out, coming into your shared apartment after a long day of work in your café that you owned.

You walked over behind Jason, who sat comfortably on the couch.

He quickly shook his head, forcing a tight smile on his lips. "Nothin', babe. Just waitung for you to cone home," He replies, reaching his arm up to wrap around your neck, making you lean down, placing a feather light kiss on his cheek, pecks trailing down to his neck.

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a quick second just to bask in the affection.

"Oh, by the way," you chime, standing straight again, walking to the attached kitchen behind the couch, talking louder for Jason to hear. "I met someone at the cafe today."

"Mhm? Who was it?" He asked, his attention going back to his novel that he was reading before you came home.

"Your brother, Dick! He's quite the charmer. How come you've never mentioned him?"

Suddenly, Jason forgets what page he's on. Which chapter, which paragraph, which line. All he heard coming out from your mouth was, "He's quite the charmer. He's so good looking. Is he single?"

"Jay?" You tried calling out to him.

He didn't realise he didn't reply to your question. "I... We don't talk much, I guess."

Your brows raise. "Really? Because when I mentiomed you, he couldn't stop talking about you-"

"Whatever- doesn't matter. Just.. Just don't talk to him again if you see him," he quickly says, his insecurities eating away at him.

Your face scrunches up in confusion. You never knew much about Jason's family except for Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. And before you officially met him today, you discovered that Jason had 2 more brothers.

"What? Why? He seems really nice."

Another praise for Dick Grayson. The thought of you leaving him was gnawing at his brain, giving him a sharp headache.

"I said it doesn't matter, just don't," he tries to stay calm, trying to read his novel again.

His stubbirn persistence starts to get on your nerves and makes you think. You understood why Jason didn't want to talk about Bruce. But know he doesn't want to talk about or want you to talk to his brother?

And he isn't even giving you a straight reason for it.

You quietly made your way to the bedroom, stripping away your work uniform and replacing it with sweatpants and Jason's hoodie.

The questions never left your head.

You then realised that when you recognised Dick from multiple news articles, you introduced yourself as Jason's partner, and Dick was... surprised. And he told you that Jason had never mentioned being in a relationship before.

Did... did Jason just not want his family to know about you? Was he embarrassed of you?

You didn't realise you started crying. You couldn't bear the thought of Jason leaving you, let alone be embarrassed of you.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I just-" Jason walked into the bedroom but froze when he saw the person he loved most, sitting on the bed, slouching and with tears rolling down. He quickly ran over to you, kneeling down, trying to hold your fave to wipe away your tears.

His heart shattered when you pushed his hands away and turned your head away from him. "Sweetheart, please, I- I didn't mean to be mean to you, I just-"

You shook your head. "No, Jason, if you want to just end it, just say it now," you weakly say, jumping to conclusion.

Jason felt like he just got shot. But this hurt him so much more than a bullet wound. "En- End it?..."

"Yeah, I already know," you whimper, continuing to avoid his gaze.

You know?? You know about his jealousy? You know about Red Hood? What is it??

"What?" He tried to understand what you meant.

"Stop it! Stop acting like I'm stupid, I know that you haven't even mentioned my existence to your family- not even your own brother! I didn't even know you had more than one! You know, if you were THAT embarrassed of me, you could've just said so, and we could've gone our separate ways ages ago!" You sniffled, finishing off your rant, too tired to give out any further.

Jason only stared at your broken state. This was all his fault. Now you really wanted to leave him, and it was HIS fault, not Dick's.

"Baby. Can you look at me. Please?" He asked in a hush, desperate whisper.

You aggressively shook your head, knowing if you look at him, you'd break down even more.

Still knelt down, Jason takes both your hands in his and leans his forhead on your knees.

"Fine. You don't have to look at me, but please listen. I am not embarrassed of you. I could never be. You are the light of my life- Your existence alone has made my life so much better, so much brighter. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." His grip slightly tightens around your hands. A spark of hope jolts in him when he hears a barely audible giggle coming from you.

You'd recognise that quote from anywhere. You remember it so clearly when Jason read it out to you while he was reading Pride and Prejudice to you.

By the number of times Jason has read that book, he memorised the quote by heart. And when reading the book to you for the first time, when he read out the quote, his eyes were only looking towards you, while you were following along the words.

That moment was the exact time he realised how in love he was with you. He'd memorise love quotes for you. He'd make his own love quotes for you. He'd make a whole book full of love quotes dedicated to you.

You finally turned your head to meet his pleading, glassy eyes. He reached his hands up once more to wipe away any remaining tears, and this time, you let him do it.

"Y/n.." He begins to speak again. "I didn't tell you not to speak with Dick because I was embarrassed of you," he explains.

"Then why-"

He takes in a deep breath. "I always thought Dick was so much better than me. Even if you try to deny it, it's a fact. He is. I never spoke about him, never mentioned you to him because... I thought the moment you knew or saw him, you'd leave me for him," he admits, and it was now his turn to avoid your eyes.

"You're so mean, Jay," you quietly spoke up, in which his head lifts up to look at you. "You're so mean for think I would ever think of leaving the best thing that happened in my life. We are all fools in love," you say, gently holding Jason's face in your hands.

Jason's smile is genuine and bright, knowing how you aw well quote from one of his favourite novels.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, leaning into your touch as you place a kiss to his forhead.

"It's okay, my love," you repond.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Jason didn't tell you about Red Hood. Not just yet. He will, though. Soon. But right now, he just wants to endure this moment, letting his insecurities go, and leaving behind his doubts and worries of you leaving him.

It can't be denied that Jason could never be who Dick Grayson is. Dick had everything that Jason wanted. Except for one thing.

You.

Dick Grayson could never have you. Your heart and love are devoted to Jason Todd. And Jason can finally live his life with you without thinking otherwise.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! 🥰

On being seen

Rated: T

Words: 990

Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie

“Brought you these,” Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. “They’re mine, but you can keep them until …” 

“Until what?” Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. “Until they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?” 

Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddie’s gut like acid. His left hand - the one that’s not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank. 

Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. It’s gone, just like half his face and jaw. 

“You should go,” he says. “s getting dark and your mom will want you home.” 

Dustin looks up, eyes bright. “But-” 

Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. “C’mon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I won’t go anywhere.” 

Dustin hesitates and Eddie’s afraid he’ll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” 

Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers. 

“Henderson?” 

Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor. 

“You haven't heard about…?” 

Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustin’s expression morphs into one of regret.

“Sorry,” he says. “I asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.” 

Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. “Yeah. Okay.” 

Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I could-” 

“I said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.” 

Dustin sighs. “Night, Eddie.” 

The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.

*

When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window. 

There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.

“Fuck, Henderson,” Eddie groans. “I told you to go home.” 

The figure jerks upright with a snort. 

“Shit,” it mumbles. “Sorry, ‘m awake.” 

It’s not Dustin.

Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears. 

“Hey,” says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Eddie, it’s me. It’s Steve.” 

A hand reaches for his. It’s warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm. 

“No,” he rasps. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.” 

Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie can’t see his expression in the dark. Doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind.  

Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says at length. “I just … I’ll go. Just wanted to give these back.” 

He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddie’s breath catches in his ruined throat. 

“Where’d you find these?” 

“Um,” Steve shuffles in his seat. “Saw them lying on the nurse’s desk the other day. Sorry I didn’t return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.” 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he can’t use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground. 

“Here, let me.” 

Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddie’s wrist. 

“This one's special, right?” 

Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.

Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries. 

“My mom's.” 

Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesn’t need to say more. 

“Tell me about her?” 

Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steve’s shadowy face as he settles back in his chair. 

“Why?” 

Steve shrugs. “You’re one of us. I’d like to know more about you.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air. 

“Not sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?” 

“You’re brave and kind and tough,” Steve says, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You’re great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think that’s a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.” 

Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings. 

“Her name was Elizabeth,” he says. “She died when I was seven.” 

Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesn’t switch on the light. He doesn’t need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him. 

Somehow, it isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

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