hellshaven
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Naim realized a tear had trailed down his cheek. His head was filled with a buzzy static, his heart was pounding, and he wasn't sure when he started crying, or why there was a pit in his chest, or why there were strangers in front of their house. He was trying to decipher their identities when his mum spoke again.
"I just… I can't lose you too."
Naim really, really hoped this wasn't what he was thought it was. He looked out the window again, and faced the most blood chilling sight he'd witnessed since the sunrise.
Or: Naim's ritual: the before, during, and after.
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Ryan’s head hasn’t stopped swimming with thoughts– he wants to say so much, and ask so many questions, even if he’s scared of the answers. More than anything, he wants to apologize profusely. But what he thinks about now is the inevitable dread of splitting up to their houses when they get back– the cold night and colder house with people who don’t speak to him before he goes to bed anymore.
He thinks back to the mill. He doesn’t know if anything will ever be like that again.
Plus, Naim’s gaze puts any coherent thoughts out of his head. Naim’s gaze darting to his lips, and back, and moving towards him feels like some siren call. And he's not really well equipped to deal with resisting that.
Or: The hospital scene + the bus scene, but from Ryan’s point of view.
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"Had a hunch about you," Ryan says, looking him over. Naim goes very still and very warm under that look, some old machinery he'd thought rusted shut creaking back into motion, something he’d tucked away for a long, long time. He doesn't know what to call it.
"How'd you know I played guitar?” Naim asks.Ryan shrugs, and he’s already turning to go, tossing the answer back over his shoulder. ” You've got the hands for it. "
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A rural small-town band au
Bookmarked by hellshaven
27 Aug 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He leaves without saying goodbye, because he doesn't feel like there's anyone to say it to.
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"You’re not going to believe this,” Naim says with a laugh. He takes a long drag of the cig. “That crazy lady in there thinks you’re beating me up. Like, straight up thinks you’re giving me all these scratches and bruises and shit.”
Naim expects him to laugh, but Ryan doesn’t. He looks absolutely stricken. The color drains from his face. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “On purpose?”
5 months after setting off to build a life of their own, Naim and Ryan are still plagued by attacks from the entity. It's hard to avoid getting defensive wounds.
Naim's boss thinks Ryan is responsible.
Series
- Part 3 of All that's holy
Bookmarked by hellshaven
27 Aug 2026
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For the rest of the afternoon he turns the scene over and over in his head. It shouldn’t bother him. It was a 20 second interaction in his 9 hour workday. He’s never going to see her again. Maybe it would bother him less if she didn’t wear the same shade of lipstick as his mother, or if her stupid outfit wasn’t the same color as his grandma's dining room curtains, or if kind smiles from older women didn’t strike a raw cord of longing in his chest.
Maybe if not for the cruel reminder that God doesn’t love him. Maybe if not for the fact that he still cares about receiving God’s love.
Loving Naim is a sin that strangers feel Ryan should repent for. Ryan seeks comfort the only way he knows how.
Series
- Part 6 of All that's holy
Bookmarked by hellshaven
27 Aug 2026
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She really doesn’t look like a threat; as unassuming as her husband and sporting a kindly face, but the threat lingers, of letting Naim off with a stranger, of that stranger potentially leaving him alone anyway, of Naim getting hurt. They are both 18 now; no one can call the cops to take them away back to Bandee, so he supposes he should take comfort in that. Ryan is just so loath to leave him. Naim’s too trusting, too sweet, despite being burned again and again and again by adults acting in bad faith. They separate without touching, an unfamiliar sensation that sits under Ryan’s skin and buzzes with wrongness like flies in a trap.
Ryan hopes their house is warm. Naim gets cold so easily.
Naim falls ill. Ryan has to leave him with a stranger and go to work anyway.
Series
- Part 4 of All that's holy
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Fingertips coated in wood-dust, Ryan's thumbs slid uselessly across the glass. He squinted against the burst of pain behind his eyes from the sun's reflective glare, swiping his thumb along the bottom of the screen in the general area his muscle memory dictated would give him what he wished. It took a few tries until the call accepted.
"Hello?"
A single ragged sob echoed over the line.
It's been months since either of them have seen the entity.
After a long day, Ryan receives a call.
Series
- Part 1 of i want it to look like you
Bookmarked by hellshaven
27 Aug 2026