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Witch Hunt

extra 1 | extra 2 | #witch hunt au

for @steddie-spooktober "witch" & @stevieweek "i don't know about this one..." prompt which i've altered quite a bit but used it twice so it kind of evens out, right???

E | 2568 | transfem!Steve (goes by Eve), witch!Steve, demon!Eddie, medieval fantasy, some arson and murder boyfriend vibes, magical srs, possible continuation, im sorry for all the lore | Ao3 more spooktober: "would you please stop trying to scare them?"

Eddie hated his job. Not only the human realm was much colder than Hell, but also, the Deal didn't always work. The success rate has been increasing each time, but it still pissed him off when nothing happened after he's been freezing his balls off for hours. He was starting to think all his fur was just decorative.

When he had arrived at Heimdall's, the guy threw him a skimpy tunic that barely covered his privates.

"Is this the only one you have? You can see my whole dick and balls in it," Eddie had complained, but beggars can't be choosers and all that.

He wraps the fabric tighter around himself when the next gust of air moves clouds away from the moon, making the pile of debris in the clearing visible. Time passes and Eddie waits impatiently, tapping his hooves against the ground, and idly picking stray grass blades from his tail. It seems like the pile moves a couple of times, but it's just the wind disturbing it.

A distant clock tower strikes midnight, and finally, the ash pile moves and keeps on moving, until a hand emerges. Eddie straightens up, his tail twitching in interest.

The ashes start breathing, the charred remains get knocked down and a coughing fit raises a dark cloud into the air. She'll be spitting soot for hours, but at least she's up now, another success for the statistics.

He decides to take pity on the poor girl and steps away from the fence he's been perched on, making room for his wings. With two good swats, the dirt is gone, leaving a slightly dirty, very naked woman in the middle of a charred circle.

He raises his eyebrows.

"These fucking perverts burnt you naked?"

She finally notices his presence, her red-rimmed eyes blinking rapidly to clear her vision, and stands up on shaky legs, still low on energy after her resurrection, barely maintaining her balance. Suddenly, Eddie doesn't seem to matter anymore, as her hands fly to her chest.

"What...?" she murmurs to herself.

Eddie tilts his head, watching the human with curiosity. Usually, the arrival of a demon gets a bigger fanfare, he's almost insulted, but he waits patiently. He already did for so long, and now he has something pretty to lay his eyes on for once. Witches usually came with ugly meat sacks, even after their resurrection.

"Where the fuck is my dick?!"

Ah, yes, that would explain it. The naked thing, too.

"Do you want it back?" Eddie asks because he's a demon with manners.

"No!" she protests immediately, eyes snapping up to him from observing her crotch. "No," she adds softer. "I like it like that." Her hand reaches down to inspect her new parts, so Eddie takes it upon himself to swat it away with his tail.

"Hey!"

He tsks, his long tongue slipping out to flick in a warning.

"Let's not put any more dirt in your holes, okay?" he berates her. Regretfully, he shrugs off the tunic he's been wearing and throws it at the girl. "For your modesty, m'lady."

She glowers at him but slips it over her head anyway. What was small for the demon, doesn't do much more for a human, especially not one with the curves that she has. She wrinkles her nose.

"Is there even a point? You can see my whole—"

Eddie slaps her hand preemptively.

"Hey! I wasn't even touching it!"

"Your hand was too close."

"No, it wasn't!"

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Let's clean you up and then you can touch it all you want. You have a river in this ditch?" he asks, nose twitching in the air. He turns at the same time the witch points her hand.

"To the left of the village."

Eddie's eyes stray to the cluster of houses she seems determined not to look at.

"Do you have anyone left there?" he asks curiously.

"Not anymore," she scoffs, taking off towards the river.

Eddie has to follow her, he can't risk losing a witch, but an urge flares inside of him that he has to let loose. He claps his hands together and starts rubbing, sparks flying until a fire forms in his palm. He bounces it from one hand to another and nuzzles it with his finger, always happy to work with the little guys. When he feels the witch is watching him, he refocuses and whispers to it:

"Go, little one. Do your worst."

The flame flies off his palm, aided by a push from Eddie's phantom wings.

She doesn't ask, only eyes him curiously, but he pushes gently on her back to prompt her into walking along his side.

"It's gonna take a while," he says without any other explanation.

The walk isn't long, and soon she's handing over the tunic and dipping into the lazily flowing water, dark like ink but glittering with the reflection of stars above. The night sky is probably the only thing Eddie misses in the Underworld.

He sits on the plush grass, observing as the witch dunks under the surface and rubs her skin until it turns pink. It still contrasts with the water like it's made of the finest porcelain.

"I guess you're clean enough to explore now," he says as her movements slow down like she's already contemplating it. She must be, he can taste her curiosity from his spot on the river bank.

"You're gonna sit there and watch?" she glowers at him.

"Of course," he answers matter-of-factly. "I'm a demon."

She huffs, but this time it sounds more amused. Her hand travels down her body.

"What's your name, witch?" Eddie asks, resting his chin on his hand.

"Stev—" she hesitates.

"Eve?" he picks up curiously. That would be hilarious.

She kind of nods, kind of shakes her head.

"I was Steven, then I went by Stevonne, but..."

"That's okay, take your time," Eddie reassures her. "This is your Rebirth, you can pick any name you like."

She hums, and he can see her hand making slow, circling movements under the water.

"I like Eve," she admits.

"Yeah?" Eddie perks up with a smile. "You can call me Eddie. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Eve."

She smiles and opens her mouth to say something, but her attention is pulled somewhere above Eddie's shoulder. The water starts glowing orange.

"Looks like the little guy is having fun," he hums, not looking around. The glow of fire looks better on Eve's skin anyway.

The river carries distant cries for help, a reminder that it's not just a big, pretty bonfire.

"Don't worry, he'll get them all," he says.

"I'm not worried," she assures quickly.

Eve's fixated on the fire consuming her village, her eyes full of awe and the reflection of flames. She's glowing in the now orange water and she looks gorgeous reflecting Eddie's carnage like that. She'll look breathtaking among hellfire.

"Maybe we could spare some," he wonders out loud with a lazy smile. She looks back at him. "So we can hunt them down later. The way they hunt my new favorite witch."

She smiles, mean and thrilled. He'll have to fight fang and claw to keep her.

"Maybe we could."

#stevie harrington #steddie #demon!eddie #demon eddie munson #witch!steve #witch steve harrington #steddiespooktober #transfem steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mine #steddie fanfiction #stevierything #steddie x monsterfucking #stevieween #stevie-ween #witch hunt au

Finding out that Billy had never been with anyone comes as a surprise, to say the least.

It’s been a month since Billy kissed Steve, pulled him close by the neck of his red sweater and slotted their lips together, pressed his tongue into Steve’s mouth and turned his life upside down. Steve can’t get enough of him since.

All they’ve done in the past month is kiss, going so far as to roll around in Steve’s bed one afternoon, only for Billy to pull away abruptly once their hips touch.

Steve watches as Billy lays back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling, both hands clenched into fists.

The thing is, Steve doesn’t mind that they’re not having sex. He’d gladly kiss Billy all day if that’s all he wants to do, but it weirds him out a little how Billy pulls away like he’s been burned when things were fine a second ago.

“Are… You okay?” Steve asks, the words coming out slow and tentative.

“Yep,” Billy says tightly. Steve’s having a hard time believing him.

“You don’t look okay, man,” he tries. Billy only grunts in response. His face is twisted up in a scowl, but the look in Billy’s eyes is a little distant, like he’s… concentrating? “Is this a werewolf thing?”

Billy’s silent for a long time, enough that Steve doesn’t think he’s gonna answer.

“No,” Billy says, finally, and Steve can feel the zing of the lie in the air. He frowns.

“You know I don’t care about that stuff, right?” Steve says. “Like, I know you’re extra strong and fangy, but I’m just as magic as you are.”

“It’s not about the fangs,” Billy spits out, showing actual anger for the first time the whole day.

“So what is it about, then?” Steve insists, searching Billy’s face for an answer. Then his eyes flick down to Billy’s hands, which are still clenched tight. “Is it about the claws?”

“Shut up,” Billy says. Too quickly.

“Oh my God, it is!” Steve’s jaw drops, and he sits up abruptly.

Billy grunts, half a huff and half a snarl, pushing himself off the bed and stomping toward the door.

“Wait, Billy, come on!”

Steve reaches out, and his hand closes around Billy’s wrist. For a second, he thinks Billy is going to snap, is going to push him against the wall and snarl in his face, but Billy just… stops. He goes completely still, refusing to look at Steve.

“I’m sorry,” Steve pleads. He doesn’t feel right letting Billy leave like this, on this sour note, and the need to pull Billy against his body, wrap him up close, sticks to his throat. “I didn’t mean to push you. It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Billy lets out a harsh breath, and Steve can see his jaw tense like he’s trying to grind his teeth into dust. But his wrist turns in Steve’s grasp and slips through his fingers until their palms slot together, soft and warm. Billy turns around.

“It’s not…” Billy starts, then stops, twisting his mouth into a grimace. “I just don’t wanna hurt you,” is what he settles on. “Don’t give me that bullshit,” he adds when Steve opens his mouth to protest. “You don’t have invulnerable fucking skin. What if I lose focus at the wrong time, and my claws catch on your scalp? On your throat?”

Billy finally looks at him, and Steve sighs, shoulders going lax, all tension leaving him in one moment. Billy doesn’t look angry. He looks tentative and unsure, and more open than he’s been the entire time they’ve been doing this.

“Okay. I get it,” Steve says, voice dipping to a low murmur. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“Yeah,” Billy says, and they go quiet. He does step closer, though, and half-leans against Steve, digging his nose into Steve’s neck. He can feel Billy breathe in deep, and Steve lifts a hand to wrap around Billy’s waist.

“I just thought… The girls you’ve been with, they’re mostly human… And none of them found out about you being a werewolf, so I…” Steve starts, but is cut off by a snort coming from Billy. The hot air from his breath tickles Steve’s neck, and he shivers.

“I don’t lose my focus around girls. Not like when I’m around you,” Billy says, barely above a whisper. Steve feels his breath catch, and wants so badly to say me too, you make me feel like that too, but Billy speaks again, dragging his nose across Steve’s skin as he lifts his head to look at him. “Besides, I never do more than make out with them. It’s never been a problem before.”

Steve freezes, hand going still where it’s been stroking Billy’s side.

“You’ve never…?” He lets the question hang in the air, and Billy stiffens.

“That a problem?” His voice is carefully even, face going blank, and Steve panics.

“No! No, of course not. No,” Steve hurries to say, squeezing Billy’s hand tightly. “It doesn’t matter. Well, I matter a little, but like, not in a bad way, I just— I mean—” Steve takes a deep breath. “It’s okay. We can— We’ll figure it out together,” he says. Pleads.

Billy huffs a laugh, lips forming that smug smirk that Steve once found infuriating but now only fills his stomach with warmth.

“Yeah, alright,” Billy says, nosing at Steve’s neck again. “I guess I’d like that.”

---

I set out to write werewolf smut but ended up with fluff instead, which is so on brand for me actually. I'm having a lot of fun with this AU right now.

#harringrove #werewolf!billy #witch!steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #sorcery writes #mine #harringrove ficlet

hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #robin buckley #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve has good grandparents #steveddie #eddeve #witch au #noelle writes

Harringrove Week Day 2: Werewolves x Frat except Stevie here is a witch bc I live for that AU

#man I was struggling so bad with the bg 😭#this looks comic-y almost #hm hm hm 🤔#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fanart #huangdraws #art #artists on tumblr #werewolf au #werewolf!billy #witch!steve

To @kittyphoenix12-xx for Harringrove for Turkey!! Thank you so much for donated and a big thank you for your endless patience!! 💗

~ read on ao3 ~

• • •

Steve Harrington smelled. That was Billy’s current problem.

Because Harrington smelled good. Like the gold and amber warmth in sunlight that has soaked into a slept-in, pine-green blanket sort of way.

Billy didn’t like thinking of smells in terms of colors, but here he sat. Smelling colors while being stuck on Steve Harrington because their last names were right next to each other. Hawkins was so small that even outside of school, Billy felt like he was playing bumper cars.

And he could always find Steve. That proved to be a boon and a curse at this very moment, because Billy swung wide between feeling deliciously warm and satiated on Steve’s lap, and absolutely furious and indignant at being on four legs instead of two.

#harringrove #harringroveforturkey #harringrove for turkey #shape shifter!billy #witch!steve #familiar!billy #neonponders #fic rec

We all have heard about Werewolf!Steve but may I please bring forward Witch!Steve to the conversation:

Alice Howe did not want to talk about her childhood or the family she distanced herself from after marrying Richard Harrington. When asked she would mention finishing school and growing up with old fashioned values, never giving more details and certainly not mentioned the talents her and the women of her family possessed. It was not that she gave up magic all together, of course not it would be foolish to not use all tools at your disposal to keep the life you have made for yourself, but she keeps it around in small ways. Using spells to keep her house tidy and in order, potions she can pass off as home remedies secrets sthat her mother taught her. And if she was being honest, she was relieved to find out that her first born had in fact been a son. She swears that she would have loved the baby either way but she was hoping for a boy. A boy meant her secret could be safe, Magic was rarely passed down to boys (something about dominant and recessive genes) but then Steve grew. When the boy was about three Alice started to notice him imitating her movements as he watched his mother cast wordless spells that moved dishes around the kitchen into the cabinets, evaporating water off the recently washed plates. At first she thought nothing of it, there was little chance that anything would come of it but then when Steve was about five, she realized she was wrong. It would turn out that by some strange twist of fate that Steve was born with the gifts that so many of Howe Family had possessed, evident in little ways like teddy bears and blocks levitating an inch above the ground before falling back down and it is after witnessing that does Alice make the chose to stop using her powers in front of her son. She chooses not to tell him about the power he was born with, thinks if I don’t teach him he won’t learn and the problem will go away and in someways it does. Steve doesn’t learn any true spells and yes, sometimes things will happen when the boy gets emotional but nothing too out of the ordinary. Sometimes there’s a little zip of electricity that feels like a static shock when touches something while too excited, a lamp might flicker slightly when he stubs his toe.

But then Steve turns ten and it’s the first time his parents decide that he’s old enough to be left alone while they attend a conference over a long weekend. The boy doesn’t know why he’s looking around the basement, it just felt like something was calling to him and packed away amongst the holiday decorations, old camping gear, and snowsuits, he finds this old wooden chest. He feels weird looking at it, like if he were to open it would alter the course of his life forever, but there’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he should. And so he does. At first glance the contents of the chest seem to be just old Halloween decorations, dusty leather bound books of spells and potions with a small blacken and tarnished metal cauldron, but then Steve opens one of the books and sees in a crooked version of his mother’s neat looping penmanship “Property of One Miss Alice Howe.” He can’t tell you why he starts to read them, maybe it’s to feel closer to the mother that seemed so distant or maybe it was just because they looked cool or maybe some third option, all he would be able to tell you is that it just felt right. Then one day while Steve is home alone during that stretch of time where school has ended but his parents have not returned home from work, he tries one of the spells he read about in his mother’s old school books just to see what would happen. And it is then, sitting on his bed with the door locked shut does Steve learn that his mother has given him more than he could have ever thought. Steve was able to use Magic, like actual magic. Steve was a Witch.

He wants to talk to his mom about it but he wasn’t supposed to find these things and who knows how she would react, so he hides. Hides the leather books on his shelf in the dust jackets of old hardcovers, hides the cauldron with a carefully stacked wall of folded clothes in his closet. He teaches himself in secret, he makes rules for himself. Only reading the books in his room so no one can read over his shoulder, only practicing spells in the house when he’s sure his parents won’t be coming home, and during those stretches of time between business trips he sneaks into the woods, out to skull rock and practices under the cover of the forest at night. Steve never thought that he was smart when it came to school but this made sense, he finally feels like he gets something.

As his skills grow over the years he becomes more sure of himself, more confident, and he starts to bend the rules. Using magic in subtle ways to mess with the other team during sports, making a player on the court stumble so his team gets the ball after an unfair call, makes sure the right fielder when the bases are loaded and it’s the bottom of the ninth, add a small amount of a potion that allows him to breath underwater to his water bottle for swim meets not enough to make a huge difference but just enough to not phase him when he accidentally inhales some of the chlorinated water when his lung capacity fails him. He’s not hurting anyone and the books are useful, especially when it comes to the idea of crafting an image. Potions for hair and skin care, spells that cover your imperfections. So while he bends his rules, he adds to them as well. No magic to cheat on tests, nothing that can change other peoples’ appearances. But sometimes he wonders what would happen if he stopped… if he didn’t use magic to keep his images King Steve, Steve “The Hair” Harrington? Was his charming personality real or just an illusion?

Then he meets Nancy, and Barb goes missing, his parent’s business trips go on longer and longer, the fight with Jonathan, and then the Demogorgan. And so he starts honing in on anything he can find for protection, for healing, for defense and he just wants some normalcy back in his already weird life. So yeah it’s Halloween, he wants to be a dumb kid and go party and have fun. He accidentally makes Nancy spill the red punch on herself and if she would just let him help her he would have been able to get the stain out but he’s stumbling and trying to be discreet about the spell and then “It’s Bullshit, all of it. Bullshit.” And he doesn’t want to break, not there in that bathroom in that house with all those people, it’s to dangerous to risk. So he gets out, he leaves, makes sure Nancy can get home safe but he leaves. Parks his car by the quarry and lets himself break, the man made pool of water rocking with unnaturally violent waves that crash against each other as the boy cries.

And then he’s protecting the kids from the demo dogs, every incantation of protection, defense, and god forbid healing that he’s ever learned flutter at light speed through the back of his thought like a Rolodex attached to a power drill.

And he meets Robin and he feels like she has this beacon about her that he can’t put his finger on but mistakes for a crush. And he tells her while sitting on that men’s bathroom floor, she tells him about Tammy Thompson and later notices a sort of amber glow to her eyes in moonlight as they drive the convertible and just chalks it up to drugs and last parts of his brain still switching from romantic to platonic love. But he notices it when they work the late shift at Family Video and during movie nights till one night he asks about it. And she tells him about being a werewolf and for the first time Steve tells someone that he’s a witch.

And then he meets Eddie, not Eddie “The Freak” Munson but Eddie. And then Eddie dies, and Steve has to get Dustin to leave, to get him safe. It is in the lull of the days after the Battle that Dustin finds out about Steve’s gifts and begs for Steve to find some way to bring Eddie back. And Steve wants to break, not in the way he did on Halloween two years ago but in a different way, a way that he doesn’t know that he can recover from. He can’t promise Dustin anything more than he’ll try. Necromancy is not for the faint of heart but, after everything the nineteen year old has seen, he would assume he’s not included in that category. The young man ventures into the Upside Down to find the fallen party member, no clue of if his plan will even work but he’s going to try and try like hell. He finds the older boy’s body, his eyes welling up with the tears he had refused to shed and he apologizes, for everything, for being an asshole in high school, for leaving him here, for him having to get mixed up in this, for not being there to protect him, and as he lets the tears fall, he promises that he is going fix this, that he will fix this. The ritual is performed, Steve brings a man back to life, and Eddie is the third person to learn Steve’s secret.

Something must have gone wrong with the spell though. Eddie is back and while he is still Eddie, he’s just different now. His senses are sharper, he’s stronger, he’s…. he’s a vampire. Not that Eddie minds, says that it was a sort of consolation prize for, you know, dying. Steve however, does mind. Blames himself for messing up the spell, for turning Eddie into a monster and is sure that Eddie only hangs out with him because of some fucked up power imbalance that comes with bringing someone back to life. But he hasn’t turned Steve away yet, so like a stray that has been fed, he keeps coming back.

The truth is that Steve likes Eddie, likes hanging out with him, likes showing off the stupid little tricks he’s learned to do with his powers, likes how he comes alive onstage with his band, likes that he’s a little too loud when he’s excited and talks with his hands and has issues with personal space. He likes being with Eddie and one night it hits him. They’re hanging out, watching a movie when Steve looks over at Eddie, profile illuminated by the glow of the screen giggling at the way a background actor is apparently trying so hard not to stare at the camera, and he thinks “god I want to kiss him.” The boy freezes, his eyes wide at his own thoughts and as if he can sense the stutter in Steve’s heartbeat, Eddie turns to face him when something in the other boy snaps. Next thing Steve knows he’s kissing Eddie and Eddie is kissing him back and he doesn’t want the moment to end. But the light from the tv goes blue and Steve yawns into Eddie’s mouth which causes the older boy to call it a night, carrying them off to bed. In the morning, Steve wakes up curled into the other boy’s side and smiles softly cuddling closer as he drifts back to sleep.

#steddie #witch!steve #werewolf!robin #vampire!eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #well fanfic like musings #I was going to expand but I don’t want to think about the angst I was considering

“You’re a witch hunter,” Steve says, cold trickling down his spine, and Billy gives him a slow blink.

“Well, yeah,” he says, as though this means nothing to him at all. Steve sighs.

“So I’m a witch?” he points out, hauling himself up onto an elbow so he can look at Billy.

But it only makes it worse. Because when he looks at Billy he’s reminded by everything that he’d be giving up. Everything that he’s spent his life searching for.

“I don’t really give a fuck, Harrington,” Billy says flatly, stretching his long arms above his head. Steve watches the muscles flex, how the motion makes his red t-shirt shift just enough to reveal a strip of creamy tanned skin. “It’s not like my family are really active hunters anymore.”

“Your dad will be pissed,” Steve says quietly, because he knows enough about Neil Hargrove to know that while no, the Hargroves don’t hunt anymore, that Billy’s dad definitely won’t let him stay with a witch. And a male one at that.

Billy scoffs loudly.

“I really don’t give a fuck,” he says again, bitterness creeping into his voice. “And neither should you.”

Steve flops back down onto the tartan blanket and stares up into the glittering night sky. His backyard has always been perfect for this sort of thing - the clear open sky above Loch Nora, the soft glow of the pool, the complete absence of his parents. Steve had had very different intentions in mind when he invited Billy over for dinner and some stargazing. It had been a perfect third date, right up until Steve had caught sight of the witch hunter's mark on Billy’s wrist.

“I don’t care,” he lies. Because even though Billy rents a shitty studio apartment above the bowling alley, he’s still not free of Neil Hargrove. The distance isn’t going to be enough to save Billy, and Steve doesn’t need any runes or cards to tell him that. He can see it in the fingerprints around Billy’s wrist, in the long white scar on the soft skin of Billy’s thigh, the set of Billy’s jaw.

It terrifies Steve that Billy is choosing him over his own safety. “It’s not like the dating app has a ‘no witches’ option,” Billy says flatly. “And I wouldn’t fucking tick it anyway because I don’t give a shit.”