#cass writes

He came running through the hallway, passing the living room, out of breath. You weren’t unaware of these situations, as he was always sucked into some problem in Hawkins whether you liked it or not.

“Hey mom- ooh cookies! Sweet!” Dustin spat out as he skidded up the stairs hastily.

It seemed this always happened. Dustin couldn’t help it, it was in his nature to be disruptive. You rolled your eyes before tracking behind him up the stairs.

“Where have you been??” You raised an eyebrow.

This caused Dustin to whip over his shoulder as he gripped the railing, face all flushed by the sudden questioning, “uh, I’ve um, been with the party. Science stuff.”

“But you stink. And why is there dirt all over you?” You commented, looking over his appearance.

“We were outside. Just some good ol’ outside science,” Dustin sheepishly replied with a cheeky smile before staring at the ceiling.

“Bullshit. If it’s something important, you have to say something,” You snarked, knowing how many times he’s brushed over a serious issue.

Dustin dramatically rubbed his neck before groaning and trying to take more steps towards his room.

“Nope. You don’t get to go,” you snapped and forced him to face you, “I want to know if something is going on,” You crossed your arms.

“Jesus, what are you? My mom? It’s fine. I just said that a million times. Max called us over cause she found some weird stuff, that’s all,” Dustin sighed, as if it were a punishment to talk to you.

“Ok, fine. You’re lying to my face. This time I’ll ignore it,” You scoffed before going up to your room, across from his.

“Can I go to bed, please? Let it go,” Dustin says with an exasperated look on his face. His backpack, shoes, and face are all dirty. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to know what was going on.

“Yeah, I’m not your mom...remember,” you can’t help but chuckle, taking a final jab at your brother before shutting your door.

After changing, taking off your makeup, and decompressing, it felt amazing to get into bed. A feeling of comfort washed over you as you pulled the covers up towards your chin. A sleepy haze fell over you as you settled into bed, was it bad to say you had been looking forward to this all day?

Until-

Tap.

Your head jerked up and suddenly your attention was fixed on your window.

Tap.

Tap.

With apprehension, you swung your legs to the edge of your bed and got up. The immediate chill of your bedroom shaking you up. You sighed and pulled back your curtains.

To your surprise, the last thing you would expect to see on a Wednesday night.

Steve Harrington, in some knight in shining armor pose, was clinging to the drain pipe beside your window.

Your eyebrows met together with a mixture of shock and disgust, even if you didn’t mean it. Why was he here? Why wouldn’t he be at Dustin’s window?

There wasn’t anything wrong with Steve hanging around the party all of the time. If anything, it saved you gas from driving them around everywhere. It just seemed like Steve was always ending up involved with your little brother’s friends. Pretty odd for someone who just graduated.

You pulled back your sheer light pink curtains, to face him through the window. He had the same expression you did, even if he didn’t mean it either.

“Harrington...? Hi..?” You said while cocking your head to the side, crossing your arms.

“There’s another one?!” Steve bluntly exclaimed, trying to position him to the landing outside your window. No shit. Of course there was “another one.” Had Dustin never mentioned you before?

“Do you need to talk to Dustin or something? Wrong window by the way,” you moved to the window, lifting it up for him. You realized how little you were wearing, a simple silky nightgown, and how awkward this interaction was going to be.

Steve not-so-nonchalantly glanced over your figure, taking in your choice of sleepwear. He snapped his gaze back up as you cleared your throat, “Oh- uh, yeah, I need to tell him something...but now I- I think it can wait,” Steve feigned his smooth persona.

You scoffed, waiting for some other stupid remark to come out of his mouth. “Oh god, really? I can go get Dustin if you want,” you replied, giving a hand out to help him through the window.

Steve gladly took your hand, lingering before brushing his jeans off as he stepped inside your room.

He glanced around at the decor of your room, getting a first impression of you. Definitely not what you thought meeting him for the first time would be like. His gaze kept flickering over at your appearance, it was hard not to, as it wasn’t everyday you saw your friend’s sister in a short nightgown.

“I- I don’t think we’ve officially met, or have we?” Steve questioned, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I don’t think so. I mean, obviously Dustin never shuts up about you. But that’s different,” you stuttered out. You couldn’t help but ramble, it came naturally to you in both good and bad situations. But this specific instance, you couldn’t tell which one it was.

Before you could make sense of the state you were somehow in, Steve was already sitting down on your pink bedspread, crossing him arms. Great, now you have to talk to him. You tried to push away the fluttering feeling in your stomach, mentally kicking yourself for being this worked up over the Steve Harrington being in your room.

The tension in your bedroom could definitely be cut in half. You couldn’t tell if his intentions were to talk to you, or god knows what else. You stood there, clothed in only a short nightgown, looking everywhere but his gaze.

“Look, I’d love to, um, get to know you more. I guess,” Steve sputtered out, mirroring your crossed arms, “Wait. No. I mean it, I don’t “guess.” Shit,” He sighed as he slid a hand down his impossibly perfect face. Good to know he was trying to not make this awkward as well.

Just as you tried to respond, with the sweetest most impressive tone you could find, you heard a tiny bang against your door.

Normally, you would’ve ignored it. Thinking it was Mews brushing by, or the wind rattling your door. Luckily, it was loud enough to take the focus off your awkward conversation with Steve.

Suddenly, you head a faint string of cusses at your door, and the sound of things clattering.

You stepped towards you door, Steve following suit. You tried not to be affected by him being this close to you.

“Mike, stop! You can’t- dammit!” You soon heard your little brother on the other side of your door. Of course.

You sighed and exchanged an exasperated glance with Steve, with him knowing about the pain the party causes anyone around them all too well.

You cleared your throat, signaling that you could 1000% hear him by now. “Dustin Henderson, you have five seconds to leave or I’m never letting Steve near you again,” you had a hand on the door frame, speaking in an oddly-calm tone. It was the kind of tone you used before going off on your brother, you had picked it up perfectly from your mom.

No reply.

You decided to fling open the door, per Steve’s face egging you on. He thought this whole this was amusing, never having experienced the whole sibling-bond thing before. Sure enough, there he was, walkie talkie in hand, microphone up to his mouth.

“If any one of your stupid friends heard our conversation, you are dead to me,” you glared at Dustin as Steve let out small chuckles behind you.

The look on dustin’s face was priceless as he scrambled to pick up his things and run to his room across the hall, slamming the door hard enough to make you whip around to face Steve. This entire situation seemed to be pulled straight from a movie.

Steve ran a hand through his hair as he let out a deep breath. “Uh- great meeting you. Truly. Maybe under different circumstances this, uh, could’ve been better. I’ll go- uh, I’m going to go talk to him,” Steve brushed pass you, flashing a smile as he started towards Dustin’s room.

Park comes in with a sigh, bored or tired, you can’t seem to tell. The dayshift had seemed to go a little too long, as it’s already 8:30 and you still haven’t finished your rounds. You’ve bantered with him a few times, knowing that the best way to get along with people like him is to match their energy. You throw back a few quips and you get the satisfaction of not having your head bit off, win for everyone.

You’re halfway through with the patients tubes, deciding to do cultures first as they take the longest due to contamination precautions. Park scans the room as he enters, his eyes landing on your olive green clad form, one of his least favorite scrub colors in the hospital.

“What do we got now?” He asks, moving to stand near Robby, looking over the patient for any obvious answers. “X-ray shows a fractured femur, I was thinking an amputation would fix it.” Robby jokes, only to pause when Park glares at him, as if joking is somehow beneath him. He moves to stand in front of the portable X-ray, tall figure bending ever so slightly to get a better view.

Your eyes wander as the lavender top fills, drifting over to subtly check him out. You wonder how often he works out, there’s no way that’s genetic, does he eat plain ground meat and white rice too? A shudder runs through your body at that thought, such a sad waste of food. He finishes reading the X-ray, moving to palpate and manipulate the leg, silently thanking whatever’s above that the patient’s sedated. The lavender top is finished and inverted by the time you yank your mind back into the present, the chill of the ice bag doing the trick.

Brendon sighs again before he speaks, definitely out of boredom this time. “Needs a rod, maybe a plate or two, I’ll book an O.R.” He walks towards the door, removing his gloves as he goes. “Keep it stable, try not to fuck that up.” He exits the room, the tension immediately dissipating. You take your leave shortly after, stepping back into the chaos of the ED.

Your foot clicks the lock on the cart, hugging a wall to finish manually labeling the tubes. His scent hits you before you can register his presence, clean and expensive, something that shouldn’t affect you as much as it does.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Vamp.” His breath is warm on your neck, with a hint of coffee and cinnamon gum. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

.

.

.

💙Lucifer💙

He’s terrified. He doesn’t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.

He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.

Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.

But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor. 

He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.

Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them. 

He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study. 

If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now. 

He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance. 

The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off. 

“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.

Solomon promised he’d bring you back.

He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound. 

💛Mammon💛

The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid. 

 Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room. 

He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling. 

He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.

It’s faint, but he takes what he can get

His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.

He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.

When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach. 

The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed. 

Each time they come back with nothing. 

Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure. 

But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now. 

When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer. 

He looks terrible. 

But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too. 

He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them. 

Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care. 

He needs you.

MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.

I miss you.

I hope you’re thinking of me, too. 

🧡Leviathan🧡

Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you. 

But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!

Is this some cruel joke?!

It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?

Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself. 

He cries. Alot. 

To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.

He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you. 

 But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.

He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.

But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks. 

I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!

Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.

He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.

He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom. 

His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use. 

He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.

💚Satan💚

Satan’s temper tantrums are back.

He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….

Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up. 

Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.

He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.

Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.

Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.

Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?

He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.

He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance

Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you. 

But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there. 

Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.

When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters. 

Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though. 

Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you. 

But it’s no use. 

When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room. 

His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest. 

Please come home, MC. I need you.

💖Asmodeus💖

Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself. 

Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.

He feels empty. 

The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best. 

But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad. 

His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time. 

Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears. 

He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this. 

He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands. 

Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum. 

The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.

But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you. 

When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.

But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.

He’ll never take it for granted again. 

MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…

❤️Beelzebub❤️

Beel is quiet. 

He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.  

His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough. 

He needs to know where you’ve gone. 

He needs to save you. 

Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all. 

His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.

The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went. 

Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers. 

He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact. 

Beel has always been protective of them, after all.

He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it. 

Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks. 

Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.

He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified. 

Please, don’t take anyone else away from me. 

I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…

💜Belphegor💜

Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways. 

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel. 

He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit. 

But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door. 

He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself. 

Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…

When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.

He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how. 

He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though. 

That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone. 

He felt it break the day you disappeared. 

But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be. 

He can’t explain why. 

Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night. 

They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around. 

I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.

He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them. 

You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece. 

"I don't think I ever actually thought you had feelings for Eddie," he looks at Buck, mouth tight and straight, no humor now. "But I do that: No matter how well things are, it's like I have this rolodex of fears in my mind that I can't help but pick something out of. And once I pick something, I roll it around in my head until it drives me crazy. Usually I cut my losses before it can even materialize, but that morning I just blurted it out." He breaks the eye contact to rub a hand across his face. In that same movement, he moves to rest against the counter behind him. That adjustment could simply mean Tommy is getting tired and needs something to rest his weight on, but Buck doesn't think it's a coincidence that the hand movement works to cover Tommy's face and the change in position turns his body a little away from Buck. But he's been learning, and the maneuver peaks Buck's attention. Pay attention here, his instincts say; this is what he doesn't want you to see. And Buck sees it: Tommy is hurt, and he's embarrassed that he's hurt.

"I see now that I was fishing for reassurance. But It wasn't fair of me to blurt it out like that and expect you to respond in real time, in a way that assuaged my fears. No, actually, even if I had come about it in a more thought-out way, it was not your job to fix this anxiety I had built up by myself in my head. I put you on the spot and then put too much stake on how you reacted. I think part of me just wanted to be right about my fears, to be right about how things have to go wrong and I can't have what I want. So when I got the answer that vindicated that, I just left."

Buck is stunned silent for a moment because this is a side of Tommy he hadn't considered yet. An insecure, impulsive, anxious side. A side that Buck relates to so badly that the rush of empathy and affection climbing up his throat robs his voice for a second. But he he doesn't want to keep Tommy hanging, so he pushes through it.

"N-no, but wait, Tommy," Buck makes several aborted movements towards his ex before deciding on grabbing the counter to his side with his left hand while the right one he uses to gesticulate; otherwise, he can't get the words out. A compromise: 50% free to express himself, 50% tied to something solid so he doesn't go overboard. "I—yes. You shouldn't have left like that. You barely gave me time to process what you said and what that meant for our relationship. My mind was split between wondering if you'd spend our whole relationship expecting me to cheat on you—" At that, Tommy winces and says, "God, no," which is reassuring, but Buck has to press on. "And being hurt that you would suggest Eddie leaving was a good thing while I was already upset about that. But that wasn't fully fair to you either because you didn't know all the details of how it went down and how upset I was. We hadn't talked."

"Seems like that's the theme for us," Tommy quips, and Buck glares at him but can't completely suppress a smile.

"But other than that," Buck continues, deciding to go for broke. "I was insulted. I don't get why people don't understand this, but it's insulting that they keep suggesting I'm hopelessly pining for my straight best friend. I'm not an inexperienced teen; I know the difference between friendship and romance. I'm an adult who knows how desiring and being desired feels like. And I don't need to settle for unwanted pining when I can have the real thing whenever I want it," he's huffing a bit because he shouldn't even have to say this. He wants the people in his life to treat him like the experienced adult he is. He realizes he probably needs to have this conversation with his sister as well.

"But," he continues. "I know you didn't want to insult me. I knew it even before, and now I'm just more sure of it. S-so, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lashed out and tried to hurt you back. Y-you have to know, I didn't mean it, what I said about not having feelings."

"You would be within your rights to say that. I pushed you for a reaction, and that meant I had to be ready for an honest answer I didn't like," Tommy shrugs.

"T-that was not an honest answer" Buck says, words coming out too loud with the horror of Tommy actually believing that he doesn't have feelings for him. "I was just being an ass, don't—please, believe me, that thing I said couldn't be further from the truth."

Tommy levels him with a searching look before the corners of his lips twitch and then curve a tiny bit up. "Okay, Evan. I believe you," he promises.

"Okay," Buck repeats, relieved. However, his mind is a bit empty now, hearing his name like that and seeing that smile. "There's probably more we need to talk about, but..." He feels himself move, and that smile his eyes are glued to is growing slowly, a teasing edge to it, plus some hopeless affection, if Buck is not wishful thinking.

Tommy is moving too, body pushing away from the counter and realigning to face Buck. His body language is changing to a more open one, and Buck wonders why that is until he sees arms raising to receive him, and he realizes he's been entering Tommy's space.

"God, Tommy," he rests his hands on Tommy's arms, lets them roam upwards until he grabs both sides of his face. "I missed you so much. That's something else I wanted to say. I'm sorry I didn't—it seems like there's never enough time for me to say everything I want to say."

"Then I'm sorry I keep cutting our time short," Tommy says, his brow furrowed in what looks like real sorrow. Buck is feeling tears gather in his eyes, and, even though he knows Tommy is not like him in this, not quick to tear up, he doesn't need to see tears to know what he is feeling. "I want to give you, us, more time." Tommy swallows what's probably some saliva and a lot of old doubts. "I want to try to give us a long time."

Buck has a feeling that, even now, Tommy is holding back from saying more. That filter of his, working hard. But that's alright because they have time. 

"Okay," Buck says, already pulling Tommy in for a long-awaited kiss. Tommy goes willingly, pliant, some of the armour shedded and making him lighter.