#nightmare!Eddie

[bettyfrommars]

The blurb game is so fun! I love a twist of fate 🤩

I’m gonna go for E2, &, 💚

big money no whammies!

(big money is gargoyle eddie 😏)

SARAH no gargoyle for you BUT you did get a very special one and I really hope you enjoy darling

your Person is nightmare!Eddie

your Place is Dealer's Choice, so I'm giving you Abandoned Building

your Thing is a Blanket

word count: 1.2k

18+ONLY, smut, unprotected piv, oral, afab!Reader, allusions to gore and violence, zombies, terror, being on the run, a bit of hurt no comfort but you know these two always find each other. As always, this was written fast and posted without obsessing too much, so let's hope it's not too much of a mess.

pick your poison

Careful footsteps made their way along the aisles of what was once a thriving supermarket, eager hands pawing through the leftover wreckage. The shelves had been mostly emptied by scavengers months ago, yet you'd been able to find a couple cans of ravioli and one coveted can of spaghettiO's. Spotting a tin of spray cheese and a liter of warm soda put a smile on Eddie's face so bright it rivaled the sun. He was giddy, his heart was bursting, and even though the world was being overrun by flesh eating zombies, he had you and processed dairy, and that was bliss.

Weapons out, you had to make sure the area was clear and secure before you could indulge in any feasting. Paying extra caution to the backrooms and every dark corner where something worse than zombies could be hiding---other survivors who might try to slit your throats for a little Chef Boyardee.

In a small room with office supplies strewn everywhere, and a door with a lock, you hunkered down, unrolling the blankets from your knapsacks to curl up together on the carpeted floor. A nap was necessary, but you had to keep moving, to make it further south and find shelter before the winter freeze.

Eddie was between your legs then, sweaty foreheads pinned together while he sank his length in, shivering with pleasure.

"Nothing has ever felt this good," he whispered.

You sealed his mouth with yours, whimpering when he eased it deeper. You were dripping wet from the way his tongue had pulled an orgasm out of you only moments before, his chin still coated in your release.

"You make me feel real," he sat up to look down at where you were joined, wishing he could see more than what the light from two votive candles and a flashlight afforded.

You weren't paying attention to the sound of footsteps shuffling outside, you were too caught up in the emotions that welled up in his eyes. He found your hand and intertwined his fingers, lowering his chest to yours while he snapped his hips. The soft mews in his throat told you that he was already close, and you urged him on with your heels digging into his thighs.

He paused when he was as deep as he could get and kissed down your throat, breathless with desire.

"Why did you stop?" You throbbed around him, yearning for the same feverish pace.

"I don't want it to end," he hung his head in a way that felt like defeat. "I don't want to lose you."

You'd been on the road for god knows how long at that point, hot wiring cars to get you as far the gas tank would, and then finding another. The two days before the supermarket had been on foot, bathing down at the river, hiding from a horde as it stumbled gracelessly through the forest.

With your free hand, you brushed the loose hair under his bandana away from his face. "Hey, look at me. I'm not going anywhere without you, it's you and me, forever."

"Or until you decided to go all Praying Mantis on me."

"Yes, forever will end on that day."

You thought you knew the town and the state you were in, but just then it escaped you. Indiana, maybe? Kansas?

For a second, in the flickering candlelight, you swore Eddie had horns and glowing red eyes, but then he was making love to you again and you forgot to care. He babbled your name as he came, shuddering until he collapsed.

Outside, something knocked against the door, making you jump, eyes darting over his shoulder. It wasn't the knock of someone wanting in, it was more of a scratching noise, like something being dragged across it.

Reluctantly, Eddie rolled off of you, pulling his jeans up to button them as he went. "Fuck, I knew this was too good to be true," he mumbled. "I found a place that was off the grid where they wouldn't think to look, and it worked for a little while."

He kept talking, making familiar sounds, but the words made no sense, as if spoken in a foreign language. You adjusted your own clothing and reached for the handle of your machete, horrified at the sight of the doorknob twisting back and forth. Someone or something wanted in.

"Just give us a minute, okay? Jesus." Eddie got to his feet, clearly annoyed.

"Eddie, shhhh!" You backed up against the wall, heart racing. "Maybe they don't know we're in here."

The doorknob stopped moving.

You were in the middle of a long-held breath when the unplugged rotary dial phone in the middle of the room rang. Eddie swooped to pick it up before it could make the shrill noise again.

He had his back to you when he smacked the receiver to his head.

You could hear someone shouting at the other end, loud enough to blow his eardrum out, but couldn't decipher what they were saying.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered to whoever it was. "What can I tell you? I got lost. Terry's directions are shit."

Weapon in hand, you slowly got to your feet. His words maintained the form of a curious jumble while your attention locked unwavering at the door.

He bent down to click the receiver onto the cradle when he was done. "I'm sorry about this, sweetheart," he said earnestly, taking a deep breath. "I'll find you again, I promise."

That time, you understood him, but you also did not understand. Not at all.

"What are you sorry for?" Your voice wavered at the way the shadows seemed to form shapes and slink along the walls. The air was suddenly thick and stale, as if the walls were closing in.

"For this."

When he turned, he was a nightmare. Rotten flesh dripping from his bones, lips pulled back in a skeleton sneer, eyes a dead, milk white. A hungry growl escaped from deep in his chest, and he reached both hands out, gnarled fingers clawing at nothing, only a few steps away from grabbing you.

You let out a terrified scream, and Eddie hated to hear it, but it was only for a moment before the invisible hatch in the floor opened and you tumbled through the infinity hole to your bed.

Once you were gone, his shoulders slumped, and that lonely vice gripped his heart once again. He stood in the same spot for a while, staring at the nest of blankets where you had once been. "I'd choose to live in a zombie apocalypse if I knew it meant we could be together" you'd said that to him once.

He was tired of this life; he was tired of losing you. What type of fucked up universe would let the two of you find each other only to make it so that you could never really be together?

"It's so fucked up," he whispered, agreeing with himself.

From the other side of the door, a woman's voice proceeded with caution. "You alright in there, Eddie?"

"Yeah," he lied. "Tell Kevin I'm taking a vacation day tomorrow."

[bettyfrommars]

nightmare!Eddie masterlist

"Wait, was that from you?"

"Yeahhh," Eddie shuffled his foot on the ground, biting the inside of his cheek. "Who else would put you in the best hotel in the galaxy with a view of Saturn's Rings?"

"But I got lost," you stepped forward to take his hand. "There were so many floors, and I couldn't find my room and there was this shadow person lurking in the hallway."

He interlaced his fingers with yours, offering a lopsided grin. "I'm afraid nightmares are my thing, sweetheart, but that shadow you saw? That was me."

"Oh," you waited a beat, considering what would've happened if you'd reacted differently. "Well, if you try it again, I promise I won't run."

"You're here with me now," he said softly. "That's all that matters."

His tone made you stop in your tracks. "Hold on, is this a dream? Please tell me I'm not actually asleep right now?"

The sand at your feet was soft, and the desert wasteland seemed to go on forever, as far as you could see, until till it met with the twin moons in the blood red sky.

Not too far in the distance, the ground shifted, revealing a long, thick, obsidian tentacle that snaked in the air, promising a much larger creature below the surface.

"I wish I could tell you that," Eddie whispered, squeezing your hand tighter. "I wish I could keep you."

Another tentacle flung up from the sand and the creature roared; its vibration shaking the ground at your feet. You looked over at Eddie and he winked at you, his demeanor calm.

"But shouldn't we be running away from it?"

"Nah," Eddie chuckled just as a third tentacle shot out and hit the ground with a boom. "It's just Steve."

[texaschainsawmascara]

kickpunch.se on ig

[bettyfrommars]

nightmare!eddie x reader

a Nightmare Factory blurb

I had several smut blurb requests to do with Eddie working his magic to give us a wet dream, including one from the lovely @jo-harrington that I will probably do something with separately, and it's literally all I could think about today, so I spit this out.

18+ONLY, somnophilia, smut, unprotected sex, squirting, reader receiving oral, pet names. Okay so, this is somnophilia because reader is actually asleep, but it's also...a dream. This is a consensual relationship, and they've been together for a while at this point (for those following the story, this is a time jump). It's a wet dream, but there is also evidence that they really had intercourse. wc: 1.3k

masterlist

authors note: I've decided we are going to jump around a bit in theis series because the non-linear way is more fun, I think. I still have a Headless Horseman Eddie coming soon, but this one felt very important xoxoxox

-------

Eddie got to work early that day and threw a sheepish grin down the hall at Kevin before plopping down in his chair for the group safety meeting to do with falling from extreme heights in dreams.  

He hadn’t been able to see you in weeks and—my god—he missed you so much it made his heart hurt.  

You’d been keeping your nightmare boyfriend a secret from your family and friends, but it was hard not to mention Eddie when you’d made sure his face was a fixture in your life.  It started out as a few sketches when you first woke up, trying to keep his image fresh, but then it progressed to paintings and even a few sculptures.  You had a whole journal full of notes and different ways Eddie had appeared to you, dating back to before you ever knew who or what he was.  

“Last night, he came to me as ghostly whispers that swam in my head, and sang to me a haunting melody.”

You weren’t afraid of anything anymore, especially not your nightmares.  Being chased by a masked killer? It was just Eddie, strolling by to say hello.  A glimpse of a shadow monster behind you when you stood at the bathroom mirror? It’s just Eddie, coming around on his way to another job.  A clawed hand grabs your ankle from under the bed? Of course, it’s Eddie—-he wants to tell you a story about something that happened at work before he forgets.

Two months ago, things had become more intimate between the two of you.  There had been some yearning kisses before that, a bit of hand holding, but it was always a gamble because he said he didn’t want to mess up and get “taken off your route” completely, as if he were delivering newspapers or soliciting magazine subscriptions.

That afternoon, you took a nap, and woke up in the throws of a wet dream so fierce, you were barely able to touch yourself before you were cumming so hard it made you shake.  When the wave subsided, you rolled over and looked at the ceiling with a smile spreading across your face: “Eddieee, was that you?”

You took that as a sign that he would return that night, and so you slept naked, ready to tempt him.  The anticipation made it hard for you to drift off to sleep at first, but it wasn’t long before you felt his calloused hands moving up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, waiting for you to acknowledge him.  “Did you miss me?”

You moaned, still half asleep, but cognizant of his presence in your dream.  

Your lower back bucked off the bed when his tongue sank between your legs, making your cunt throb.

“Damn, I love how wet you get for me,” he kissed your inner thigh and ran his nose along your slit, darting his tongue into your aching hole. His tongue was…longer than you remembered, and you could feel it fill you up and twist inside of you like a big snake on the run.

You whimpered and twitched, making him smile against your engorged pussy as it dripped for him and only him.

“You came so hard for me earlier today,” his whispers were far away but also right at your ear.  One mouth sucked at your nipples and licked them while the other latched onto your core—as if there were two of him.  “I need to taste it this time.”

Under your closed lids, your eyes moved from side to side and your jaw went slack as a long groan escaped.

You were close, and Eddie knew it.

He could feel your arousal bloom in his mouth, and he rutted it in the air of the celestial sphere the two of you were existing in.  

Your whole body stiffened as you came, gasping, hips bucking up to meet his mouth, to let him suck every last drop from you.

“God, I’m so crazy about you,” he mumbled against your slit as he lapped you up, licking all the way back and teasing there a little bit. 

You could feel your eyes fluttering open and you worried that you were waking up, “no no no no…” you repeated, becoming aware of the infinite blackness around you.

You saw Eddie’s head pop up from between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Eddie,” you breathed, relieved. You wanted to put your arms around him, to spread your legs wider so that he could be inside of you, but your limbs had minimal strength. “Where are we this time?”

It looked like you were floating in a dark night sky surrounded by a sea of bright, blinking stars. It felt like you were on your bed back in your room, but there was not a trace of anything familiar.  

With a grin still wet from your gift, he crawled up on top of you to plant a few sweet kisses on your face.  “We’re in the same astral plane with the rest of the soul suckers and the sex demons.  I’m doing my best to lay low, so the head Incubus doesn’t know I’m here.”  

Talking to your boyfriend and kissing him was great but you were suddenly hit with another blast of horniness so strong it made you clench.

“I need you, Eddie,” you whined against his mouth, finally able to move your hands up to undo his belt.  “Inside of me this time.”

His clothes were off in a split second, as if he’d never been wearing any to begin with. Your hole gripped at nothing when the tip of his hard length rubbed against it.  

“That’s it —fuck—just like that,” he held your hips up and sank in deep as your eyes fell closed again.  You drifted in and out of the astral plane as he made you his with long, slow strokes first, hitting that perfect spot inside each time.

You chanted his name as he worked his fingers in the right spot, just like you'd taught him to the last time you were together.  "You're doing so good, baby," you hushed. At one point, you felt like you were being lifted off the bed—becoming weightless—while he kept a steady pace.  

He hesitated abruptly, pausing there, and you managed to open your heavy eyelids to look at him. 

His expression was a serious one. “I’m about to cum, baby, but I wanted to tell you that I think I…I think I…”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence and your head rolled back as he continued, cursing at how good it felt.  

Your second orgasm hit with a sense of release you’d never felt before, and you cried out, trembling, as sunburst exploded at your core and a velvet whip cracked.

“You’re cumming…all over me…oh my god,” and the sight of your release spraying onto his cock made Eddie pour himself into you on the spot, stuttering as your walls milked him, each of you babbling incoherent words of worship to the other.

In the aftermath, he took you in his arms from behind to spoon you close.  He could feel your breathing change, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you left dreamland through the magical door.  

“I think…” he started again, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear.  “I think I’m in love with you.”

—---

You took your time waking up, guiding yourself through another orgasm as the remnants of the dream lingered.  As always, you tried to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as possible, gasping his name as you came again, and your head lolled from side to side on the pillow.  

Once you were fully awake, the all too familiar sadness set in; the realization that he wasn’t really there, with you, like you wanted him to be.  

Your spirits soon lifted when you felt his seed drip down your leg on your way to the bathroom, elated at the realization that you had successfully kept a piece of him with you. 

One day, you’d figure out a way to keep all of him.

[bettyfrommars]

@fairyysoup

I feel confident enough to post these now. A collection of all the existing posters after some edits from the other post that got 13k notes! These are full size/quality. Go nuts.

You may use them for wallpapers, tabletop campaigns, whatever. Consider tipping me (do people use kofi for that or tumblr's built in system? Let me know what you prefer) or buying a print or sticker here! (STORE DOWN 7/28) If you do use them, let me know what for, or send pictures!

[elviraaxen]

"shake shake shake!" ⭐⭐⭐

-- Finished Julie Animation, Hope you like!! --

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[sketchquill]

*SNEAKILY CRAWLS THROUGH YOUR WINDOW IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND PRESENTS THIS TO YOU* 

BEHOLD @cloudy-dreams FOR I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED MAKING YOUR BRITHDAY GIFT ART!!! I FIGURED IT WAS HIGH TIME I DREW FANART OF YOUR NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS AU AND I EVEN THREW YOUR OC VINCE INTO THE MIX TOO! >w<

I KNOW I ALREADY SAID IT BEFORE BUT HAPPY BRITHDAY AGAIN I HOPE ALL YOU BIRTHDAY WISHES COME TRUE! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

[bettyfrommars]

And by "consequences" you mean nightmare!eddie

Specifically poltergeist!eddie

A cruel prank by your bullies leaves you separated from the rest of the class. Instead of finding your way back, you decide to “go missing” and let the consequences catch up to them.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

[bettyfrommars]

The Nightmare Factory waiting room

Beetlejuice

[italiansteebie]

steve harrington has a bad habit.

he takes in the dogs and cats no one wants anymore.

he's had elderly dogs, disabled cats, puppies that have grown and lost their sparkle, kittens that had been left in the dumpster. he's taken dogs that families can't handle anymore, and he does it with love. he uses his parents huge house to home animals that deserve it, animals that fill the emptiness.

so what happens after vecna is all said and done, and eddie's dead and gone, and a mangy dog crawls out from under eddie's old trailer while steve's there helping max do some minor repairs? and what happens when steve takes the dog home, names him ozzy, curtsy of eddie taking up every inch of his brain, and nurses the skinny thing back to health, along with the other strays he's taken in.

but ozzy never really liked to be around the other animals, always choosing to curl up next to steve, and maybe it was because he knew how much bigger he was than all of them because, damn. ozzy was a big ass dog.

until one night, steve shoots out of bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he's recovering from a nightmare, and he catches a glimpse of none other than eddie. eddie, who's supposed to be dead. eddie who's supposed to be dead in the upside down, nonetheless, peering at him through his doorway. "what the fuck," he breaths, watching as eddie flinches nervously, "surprise," the metal head cheers flatly.

"what the fuck."

[try-set-me-on-fire]

if you call, I’ll turn on the light for you

[bettyfrommars]

Okay but what about something smutty about Eddie being your sleep paralysis demon?? He’s coming by to visit and terrorize you, but once he sees his delicious you are, wants to have a different kind of fun?

18+ONLY, sleep paralysis, nightmares, satire, no smut (ILY I'm sorry) just a wee blurb

Nightmare Factory Masterlist

Eddie is your sleep paralysis demon, but he's really bad at it.

He's new to the gig; he was sent there on assignment from The Nightmare Factory. It's just another job to pay the bills, one that he doesn't take too seriously. On the first day, he has this heart-in-his-throat moment when he sees you, and then he immediately feels guilty that he's slinking around in your room at night while you sleep. Life for a professional Sleep Paralysis Demon (SPD certified) is, indeed, a lonely one. It's a lot of lurking and longing, and he's starting to realize that he might not be cut out for it.

But then, one night, he's sitting on the side of your bed, telling you about his day in soft whispers that he thought you would never hear, when your eyes fly open.

He stands up to apologize, but all you see is a faceless, shadow figure standing at the end of the bed, watching you.

You try to scream, but no sound comes out. You try to wake up, but it feels like you already are, and panic sets in.

Eddie takes a few steps toward you, moving his hands, trying to explain. "Listen I know this is weird but hear me out---I'm not here to hurt you. This is just a job, that's all it is, and if they didn't send me, they would've sent some other dude. Not to sound like a creep or anything but I like you and--"

But all you hear is this loud shrieking, like a banshee wail, as the thing shuffles closer. You try to move, but your limbs feel like they are stuck in concrete.

Eddie takes a few more steps, getting right up by your head to look down at you, willing you to understand him. "I'm not trying to freak you out, okay, I promise, but I've been working up the courage to say that I like coming here to hang out with you. I just wish we knew how to communicate because I think we'd have a lot in common."

The dark figure is screaming in your face, right above you, and inside your head you are begging for it to leave you alone.

Eddie hears a whimper come out of your throat as if you are trying to scream and he realizes maybe this approach isn't working, and so he backs up. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to wake you up now, okay? It's all good sweetheart, here we go, let me help you..."

You wake up choking on a frightened sob, and then you scramble to flick the bedside light on, gasping, on the verge of tears. You sit up in bed and pull the covers to your chin, eyes darting around the empty room, trembling.

Above you, Eddie floats on the ceiling, apologizing in a voice too low for any human ears to hear.

Later, back at the Nightmare Factory headquarters, he puts in his SPD resignation, citing emotional damage. A bummer in more ways than one, since those two months of SPD training were down the drain.

He goes to stand in front of the message board, to look at the job openings he could apply for. He can't help but wonder which one of the available nightmare positions would get him closer to you.

[bettyfrommars]

Nightmare Eddie

the monster under the bed is scary to YOU. i’m having sex with it though.