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#//okay yeah i know at least a vague idea of what she did. and now she has a nose scar because it didn't heal properly unlike mine
blackthorn-legion-irl · 7 months
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STOP BEING SO FUCKING KIND TO ME I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE
I SENT A CORPSE TO A CHILD
...
You're too kind for your own good.
Fuck.
//Hello!! Rwat anon mod!! You're doing great lol no need to be nervous about interacting- if anything I was because I got accused of being- a not so great person yesterday and I was worried people were going to think that this character or that person was me ooc. Anyways, about rwat. They have severe intrusive thoughts constantly, and were in a manic state while sending threats and shit to paris which peaked with that package to sprite- but has now dipped down and they're more reasonable, though still unstable
i'll tell you one thing that i've never told anyone on here before. i know that this will make it publically known. but i think telling you will help.
i've done worse.
i don't know what - i've repressed most of that memory. but i was a stupid kid. i'm still a stupid adult sometimes. i probably snapped. my point is - if i can come back from that, so can you.
if you don't want to talk for now - or at all - i understand. i'll work on finding a good therapist near you who doesn't work with the cops - not sure if that's a worry you had, but easing it anyway. cops suck but if you'd like i will absolutely support you, okay? i can't go too extreme without drawing attention, but through... slight money laundering through my dude in johto i can make sure you have at least stable housing and supplies so you don't have to worry about those.
just remember. small steppy better than no steppy. and two steps forward one step back is still a net gain.
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chet and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touche.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
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writeforfandoms · 4 months
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Warrior Song 15
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Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!
Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?
Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.
Word count: 2.7k
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By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough. 
“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”
“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly. 
“You are a difficult man to find.” 
Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter. 
“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg. 
“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.” 
You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever. 
“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”
“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.” 
Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently. 
“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.
“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”
You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!
Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.) 
After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you. 
“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”
You pouted harder but ate in silence. 
Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken? 
“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek. 
“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused. 
Welp. You were dead. 
Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased. 
You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still. 
“Why did you blow up Atriox?” 
The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”
Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”
Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.” 
Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?” 
You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”
Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears. 
“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him. 
“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing. 
Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.” 
Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.
But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control. 
The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep. 
Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened. 
So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.
“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.
“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep. 
“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”
You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint. 
You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it. 
Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement. 
“How long have you been awake?” 
“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you. 
“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches. 
John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”
“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.” 
John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”
You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind. 
You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time. 
John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched. 
You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head. 
That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him. 
It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably. 
John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow. 
But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.
You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you. 
“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain. 
“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward. 
You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at. 
And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped. 
“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile. 
“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”
You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still. 
Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.” 
“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch. 
“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably. 
“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.” 
“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you. 
Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast. 
You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help. 
A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled. 
“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern. 
“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely. 
Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once. 
“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.” 
That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled. 
“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?” 
“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.” 
“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.” 
“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!” 
Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”
Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.” 
“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.” 
You snorted. “I'm staying with John.” 
Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.” 
You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?” 
Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.” 
You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar. 
“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied. 
Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together. 
You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived. 
“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”
You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around. 
“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence. 
“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.” 
You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day. 
“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway. 
Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other. 
Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder. 
He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away. 
But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped. 
Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive. 
That was enough. 
It took a week for human ships to arrive.
Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.
But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.
It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting. 
You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship. 
It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite. 
“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.
“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”
Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.
“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.” 
“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.” 
You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful. 
Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again. 
“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor. 
Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”
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lucabyte · 8 days
Note
obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask
also your art is amazing
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Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!
and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...
I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:
This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...
My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.
It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)
The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)
And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.
but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.
Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)
Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.
As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.
Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)
This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)
Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.
Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.
But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.
I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.
*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍
**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....
Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.
And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.
Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?
I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.
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oncewhenalongtimeago · 5 months
Note
Do you have more of " Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot"? It's so good that I'd like to read more about it <3
Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 10
Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader
Words: 2,963
You hitch a ride with the Twins. 
Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, The Night and The Fury, unedited
<Previous - Next>
“Okay, seriously, who’s going to watch the dragons?” Came the muffled voice of Hiccup from outside. 
You shifted around, arms pulled tightly, together, rubbing against rough, frayed, grainy fabric, too busy trying to reorient yourself to pay any real attention. You were certain this was going to give you a rash.
You ignored the ruckus going on outside, a dragon attack or something, trying to shift so that you weren’t curled completely around, feet pressed against the knot holding your sack closed. 
This wasn’t necessarily what you expected when the Thorston Twins said they had a job for you. You wished you had more time to react before they’d shoved you into the sack. At least enough time to ask for some air holes.
You puffed hot air against your hands, blinking roughly before, all of a sudden, you dropped. You winced as your shoulders met sand, tumbling onto the floor, tumbling out of the sack.
“Yeah, we knew you were going to make us do something stupid like this-”
You landed half on your back and stayed there, staring up at the sky for a good minute as you made an effort to blink away the vertigo.
“-That’s why we brought someone else to take my place.” 
Then, you dug shaky hands into the ground, feeling sand catch under your nails with discomfort. 
“Hey,” You heard the indignant voice of Ruffnut grumble, “What about me?”
“You snooze, you lose, sister.”
You pushed yourself up by your hands, making out the faces of Berk’s Dragon Riders by the dim light of their lanterns, and hoped with a vague suspicion that you hadn’t stumbled your way into another television episode.
“Hi,” You said, swiveling your head slowly in order to get a good view of all of the riders. For some reason, your eyes landed fixedly on Hiccup, who was very notably refusing to look you in the eye.
You furrowed your brows, wondering where the dragon was.
“Tuffnut,” Astrid reprimanded.
They all held simple box lanterns.
Hiccup had his shield, made of Gronckle Iron, on one arm. It reflected dim light, shining silver and white. Pristine, well taken care of and very, very new. And soon-to-be sullied, probably, too.
“Why doesn’t she stay behind and take care of the dragons?” Fishlegs suggested, “Or-or she could take my place instead.”
Their dragons convened behind them. Toothless snuffled at Stormfly as Barf tried to nip at him from behind. His scales were chipped and a dull green and turquoise. He’d probably need a wash soon. 
“We’ve already been over this, Fishlegs.” Hiccup suggested, turning and squinting at him.
You shrugged and turned your eyes to the coast, listening to the sound of claws digging into sand and boots kicking it up. You kept a careful eye on cooling glass, sand red and melted into a small crater, and made a point to stay carefully positioned away from it.
You wondered how difficult it would be to swim back to Berk on your own. Not that you wanted to, anyhow.
“Do you know how to take care of the dragons?” Astrid asked, “We can’t just fly back now.”
“No idea,” You said, just as Tuffnut suggested that they did. Besides that one time during Snoggletog with Hiccup, you weren’t sure you’d ever ridden a one. 
“See?” Fishlegs protested, as they quickly fell into chaos, “I didn’t want to do the exercise much anyways.”
“Well, she-she could always come with me?” Hiccup suggested uneasily, as you dug the toes of your boots into the sand, scooting back slightly as the tides swelled, “I could fly her back and meet up with you guys after you finish the exercise. Or I could go and try to find her a dragon. To fly back on.”
You hoped not. That seemed like a lot of responsibility.
“Dude.”
You sighed, completely disconnected as you stared off at the horizon line. The sea was eerily black this late at night. You wondered how things were doing back where you came from, and whether the ocean back in your world was just as cold.
“Hiccup. Really? Now isn’t the time for that.”
“She’s coming with me,” He said, tapping His prosthetic soundlessly into the sand, as if resisting the urge to shuffle.
“For what?” You asked finally, turning around as you pulled yourself from your musings.
“Do you ever wonder what goes on at the breeding ground when the dragons aren’t there? Is it just one big hunk of rock? Or do you think some of them stick around?” You walked alongside Hiccup, trying not to let your feet drag as you walked alongside him.
“Actually, I’m not sure.” Hiccup nodded shiftily, still not able to look you in the eye. His mouth opened and closed once or twice, as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
Your hands rubbed at your arms through your thin tunic as you very much wished you were back on Berk, in your bed. But your landlords had just started taking rent.
You wrinkled your nose, trying not to chatter your teeth.
“Do you want my, ah, coat?” Hiccup asked, eventually, before trying awkwardly to pull it off. It was a bit hard considering his hands were full, and so you held out your hand in an offer to hold the lantern.
“No, it’s okay. I mean I wouldn’t want to- take it from you. It’s cold. You can keep it. I can carry- oh.”
Hiccup had settled down his shield and pulled off his coat, offering it to you. You took it with unsure hands, your knuckle brushing gently across his fingertip.
“It’s fine, I have plenty more.” Hiccup said, picking up his shield. It looked like he was about to try and dust it off but thought better of it.
“Really?” You asked. You sniffed it suspiciously, feeling the fur in hand. It was a lot shorter than it had been before, nearly down to the leather and definitely singed in some parts, but it was still just as cozy.
“Well, no, but I was outgrowing it anyways.” Hiccup shrugged with false casualty, head facing away but his eyes looking back at you, just in his green tunic. 
You couldn’t make out much else, especially not just by lamplight. He didn’t look like he was outgrowing it.
The fur was incredibly soft between your fingertips, though even without leaning your head in close you could smell the heavy scent of smoke and metal. Hiccup had probably left it in the forge overnight or something. You had heard the Chief complaining about it before.
“Wait, you mean you’re giving it to me? Like, giving it, giving it?” Hiccup flushed under the scrutiny. You decided to dial it back.
“Well yeah, the red-” He stammered.
“-Tunic. Right. Well, I promise I’ll return it to you after.”
“No, you won’t.” He insisted stubbornly, metaphorically digging his heels in. You wondered how neither he nor any of the other Vikings on Berk were ever cold at all. 
“I will,” You stared stubbornly back, the two of you locked in a sort of staring contest until you saw Hiccup’s eyes focus on something behind you.
Mournfully, you broke eye contact, and turned to look behind you where, just over a ledge were the smoky beginnings of a fire.
“...Great.” Hiccup sighed, taking the first few steps around you.
You weren’t even sure how they got so far ahead of you two and had the time to put up a fire, but that was just as fine. As long as there was something warm.
“Oh, cool.” You said, tossing Hiccup’s coat back at him as you quickly sped your way out of his range, “A fire. Are we allowed to even have fires?”
“I don’t- you’d have to ask Astrid…”
“What happened to only dragons being able to find Dragon Island?” You mumbled to yourself drowsily, though you were sure you already knew the answer. 
A lot of the smoke around the island had cleared since most of the dragons fled it, and it was a lot more accessible now that it didn’t have an armada of scales to defend it.
You wondered if coming back was at all traumatizing for the dragons. Honestly, you were surprised the island had any shrubbery at all, though you supposed that the Timberjacks might need it. 
You wondered how the Berserkers discovered this island, if at all an island suddenly appearing from the mist was startling to them. Or if they were too unfamiliar with the area to notice or care. The island was in Hooligan Territory, after all.
You stood at the edge of the treeline as Dagur lifted Hiccup into the air, angrily recounting their last meeting on the island. You had a small dagger clutched in hand, though kept it vaguely out of view, waiting for either Hiccup to signal you, though he was currently enthusiastically shaking his head ‘no,’ or for Dagur to start acting just a little bit too deranged.
“And then you kicked me off!” Dagur grit out angrily, “Why are you here? Are you planning to steal my kill, again?” 
Dagur ended the last bit slowly, holding out his sword, the tip of it pointing threateningly towards Hiccup. 
“What am I doing here?” Hiccup asked nervously, and irritatedly, somehow, looking back and forth between you and Dagur.
You had to resist the urge to back away as your heart picked up speed.
You asked yourself what in the world had happened between the two the last time they were on Berk together; if this was supposed to happen.
You mouthed a nervous ‘What do I do?’ back at him as you took a hasty step past what looked to be the flayed skin of a Gronkle.
“You know what? I know exactly what you’re doing he-...” Dagur paused, following Hiccup's line of sight. His face scrunched up as if he had only just realized you were there. In all fairness, he probably had.
“You.”
You tried to pull your dagger- well, Hiccup’s, really- further behind you so that he wouldn’t see it, though you had very little hope as his eyes caught it, probably glinting back the light of the fire.
“Nothing! We’re doing nothing.” Hiccup said, laughing nervously and pushing Dagur’s sword down with his fingertips by the flat end as dread coiled in your gut.
“You…” Dagur began with a sneer, shoulders high. Then, suddenly, like the sky after a heavy rain, his face cleared, “You’re on a date!”
You let out a heavy sigh, which morphed into mildly hysterical laughter as the aggressive lines of his face smoothed itself out into a false, strained grim. Then you grimaced, certain you’d missed something in between then and the last time you encountered Dagur.
“A date?!” Hiccup asked, as you attempted to smother your confusion. You weren’t quite sure where he got that idea. You wondered next when his mood would flip.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you!” Dagur finished, opening his arms wide and taking the first steps forward into your direction, “I’m going to enjoy tearing the both of you apart!”
“I wish you had.” You grumbled sourly, very pointedly ignoring the last bit, afraid to poke the proverbial dragon.
You kept a safe distance from the swords and other various weaponry buried into the ground everywhere in sight around the campfire. You took a moment to stare wide-eyed at a skull, a Nadder, presumably, sticking out from a branch hanging over the clearing.
“A firecracker, that one.” The orange firelight flickered menacingly across Dagur’s face, whose eyes were narrowing again. You could see a vein on the corner of his forehead beating. You imagined it might be very easy for him to over take you with an axe, and even easier to hide your remains somewhere on the island.
“No, not really,” You mumbled, wincing, relaxing the hand holding the borrowed knife. You really did need to get one of your own. 
“The two of you! Like two elements! Fire and,” Dagur looked over Hiccup, “Something else just as… Ferocious.”
You grimaced as he turned around, shifting away as best you could without being noticed.
“Fire isn’t an element.” You muttered under your breath as Hiccup shuffled his way uncomfortably back towards you. You wondered if it was too soon for you and Hiccup to leave and get the heck out of dodge.
Dagur laughed erratically, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Though, to be fair, you preferred this version of him a lot more to the version you met on Berk. He was much less aggressive this way. Or, at least, purposefully aggressive. Towards you.
“Huh?” Hiccup asked disconcertedly.
“Fire isn’t an element. It’s a reaction. I think,” You stared blankly at Dagur’s retreating back.
“So, what are you here for?” Hiccup asked Dagur as your shoulders bumped into each other. He pulled his dusty shield higher in front of you and further to his left to it covered some of you both as Dagur pulled up an especially wicked serrated blade from the dirt.
Scouring through your memories, you tried to look for something, anything to get you out of this situation. You glanced at Hiccup guiltily. You felt a little bad sometimes, for keeping all these future things to yourself. But you weren’t sure who would believe you, and it had been a whole year and you realized with alarm that you were beginning to lose a few things. 
You tried not to think too much about it. The concept was frightening to say the least.
“The only thing worth being out for,” Dagur paused, “Dragon hunting.”
“What happened?” You asked under your breath, leaning sideways closer to Hiccup. You felt the tips of a tuft of his hair scratch the side of your face as you searched Dagur’s, loathe to look away as if it might tell you the answer.
You were half inclined to believe it was your little tussle back on Berk that caused it, but you were sure that wasn’t enough to inspire manslaughter, at least not to any sane mind. 
“Oh, well, I said somethings, he said some things, a few words were exchanged-Most of which I probably should have kept to myself-” Hiccup mumbled hurriedly and ruefully back, speaking just above a whisper, “We really need to get out of here.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?” Dagur scowled, turning back to you.
You felt a bead of sweat slide down your neck, noting from the corner of your eye Hiccup forming the beginning of an answer.
“We’ve got somewhere else to be!” You grinned testily, answering before Hiccup could, “Supposed to meet up with, uh, the rest of our group. A large amount of people. Training exercise. Everyone knows about it, really.”
“What a coincidence. I didn’t come alone either. You’ll have fun explaining where you and your little friends are to my armada.” Dagur stalked up to the two of you, pulling weapons from the ground as he strode. 
“Gods, what is it with you and your armada?” Hiccup exclaimed, gesturing with his shield. 
As Dagur approached and Hiccup’s shield became less and less of an obstacle between the two of you, you took the opportunity to kick up between his legs, not at all taking the time to watch as Dagur folded over, voice wrought with anger, “Now, that was a little-”
Hiccup engaged his shield partially, dropping it hard so that he delivered a heavy blow to Dagur’s head, and dropped his lantern right by the fire, its metal skeleton bouncing against wood and stone.
Hiccup was smart, sometimes. More mechanically inclined than booksmart, at least outright. You found that to be one of the most intelligent decisions Hiccup ever made.
“Come on!” You began, just as Hiccup began shouting for Toothless.
Hiccup sprinted slightly ahead, collapsed shield in hand as he jumped fully onto Toothless’ saddle. 
You followed with a nervous laugh, a skid and a kick of dirt as you stumbled, nearly tripping as you slung your leg over Toothless’ saddle and slid close to Hiccup’s back.
Hiccup was bent forward with the ghost of a fright and a shade of awkward confidence in his voice as he urged you forwards and Toothless into the sky.
Said dragon launched very soon after, making a quick effort to catch up to the rest of the Rider’s dragons, Dagur storming behind you across the clifftops.
You turned to look back quickly, bringing your hand up to Hiccup’s shoulder in an attempt to stay stable even as Toothless flew like a rocket, splitting through the air.
Your heart pounding, adrenaline doing numbers. You felt Hiccup’s heart through his back, like some sort of war drum. You worried he might actually have a heart attack.
You felt his torso stiffening as you wrapped your arms around his middle, though he remained razor focused on the sky in front of him. On the gently curved horizon line in the distance.
Hiccup’s shoulders jumped under your hands as you moved your hands onto his shoulders. Quickly, you pressed up close to his back, so close your upper thighs were pressed to the back of Hiccup’s, in an effort to fight against the pushing wind, and brought your head over his shoulder, resisting the urge to bury your wind-bitten nose into the collar of your tunic. 
Being in the sky gave you the perfect opportunity to say it. It was probably inappropriate timing, but as you found Dragon island becoming more and more of a speck in the distance, you found that you didn’t care.
“See? The Earth is round!”
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pluto-supremacy · 9 months
Note
Can I add to the Hobie dating an autistic person ideas based on my experiences? I'm autistic, my girlfriend isn't but neither of us would be shocked if she was.
Hobie understands that he has to be ultra specific when asking or explaining something to you. He can't be vague about it and say something will take a while, he knows you prefer a specific time.
He finds your stimming cute as fuck, but he's learned quickly to step out the way when you do stim lest he wants to be in the line of fire and accidentally get hit.
Same applies with hands. You gesture a lot with your hands and it gets more animated and crazy when you're excited and you wave then about. The cutest shit ever, not so much when you're eating or prepping food and you have a knife in your hand. A gentle reminder that its okay to stim, but maybe not with a knife or something stabby or fragile in your hand is all that's needed.
Yes, you and Hobie are on the same page 99 percent of the time, but occasionally there'll be miscommunication and what he says and means will be different to what you thought it meant. This is based on me and my girlfriend a few weeks ago. I suggested we "chill out" in her room, hoping she gets the hint. We go to her room and literally chill out whilst watching Bluey. Many laughs and kisses after, it was adorable
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Hobie Brown Drabble: cooking rambles with a gn!autistic!reader
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➼ I absolutely love these additions to the headcanons! I also talk a lot with my hands and at work and when I’m cooking that includes gesturing with very sharp knives, so- yeah I’m forcing that on our beloved gn!reader. Enjoy this little Drabble based on some of your lovely additions!
➼ I swear I did try my best on the accent-
➼ Sorry that this took a bit longer than I promised! Work has been kicking my ass
➼ No beta we die like uncle Aaron
➼ No warnings! Just fluff here
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GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner
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You treasured nights like these, nights when Hobie wasn’t needed back at Spider HQ. Or just decided not to go. Either way, you enjoyed just being able to lounge around in your shared flat together, bitch about coworkers, turn on a cheesy movie, or your favorite: cook together. Nothing beat a homemade meal in Hobie’s opinion, he just…wasn’t the best at cooking. Wasn’t terrible either, more middle of the road, so he usually stuck to stirring and prepping the vegetables.
Tonight’s menu was grilled cheeses and tomato soup, some nice comfort food. Hobie was buttering up the pan for the sandwiches while you were chopping up some onions, going on about your day. “So then I’m at the counter just trying to ring up her order. Something complicated because of course she just couldn’t have the drinks how they come, each has at least three modifications” you rambled on. You always talked with your hands, gesturing wildly that you sometimes hit people. This was no different.
Apart from the fact that this time you had a knife in your hands.
“Like she wanted no whip on this one, double whip on that one, sprinkles on the other other one” you listed off, tapping the tip of the blade against your fingers without a second thought. Hobie was of course listening, but he had his back turned. At least it was until his Spidey-sense went off. But what could be causing danger-?
Cue you still gesturing with the knife, none the wiser that Hobie, who was once by the stove, had webbed up onto the ceiling and was standing there like a bat. Your eyes had been trained down as you went on. “I was losing my mind! I wanted to scream!” You raised your hands in frustration, and when you lowered them, the knife was gone and in its place? A wooden spoon. “What-?”
“Sorry luv, but I can’t ‘ave you swingin’ that ‘round. Can’t ‘ford a trip to the hospi’al” Hobie said, still hanging upside down on the ceiling but now with your stolen knife in hand. “I fancy ya a bi’ too much to let you ‘urt yourself.”
You could only laugh, setting the spoon down as Hobie finally jumped off of the ceiling, spinning around to land on his feet. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it” you replied, holding your hand out to get the knife back. He shot you a mock skeptical look before handing it back over, now sitting on the counter. “‘S alright swee’heart. Now watch where you’re cu’ing. I wan’ you ta keep all your fingers” he hummed out lowly, watching you get back to work. He always loved watching you talk with your hands and when you would stim, sometimes he just needed to step in to keep everyone safe. Anything for his luv.
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hopeyarts · 1 month
Text
Here’s a little opinion I have about why Star came down from the sky to help out Asha. Or maybe this is just a little interpretation from late night thoughts.
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So we all know that Asha sang to the sky about wanting more for the people of Rosas, such as getting their dreams and wishes back (even tho they live rent free and everything). Nevertheless, her wish is selfless and is focused on everyone else, not herself.
The scene where she meets Star and she says “I just want their wishes to have a chance”, in my opinion, proves that selflessness.
Asha knows what it’s like to have a wish/dream crushed. When she was younger, all she wished for was for her father Tomás (yes that’s his real name. It’s in the art book of Wish), to get better from an illness. He never did and died when Asha was 12. So we can speculate or obviously consider the fact that Asha’s primary goal is to make sure no one (in the safest way possible, because she knows there are bad wishes- she’s not dumb) experiences that loss and pain. That’s why she signs up to be King Magnifico’s apprentice, not because she wants Sabino’s wish granted. She even says “that’s why I want to work for you” to Magnifico after his speech to her during the interview.
Yes, I will admit that her asking Magnifico to consider granting her grandfather’s wish was a little out of line but in all honesty we’d all do that (unless you have hella anxiety about asking for things then ayy same). But in truth she never demanded it, she simply asked him to consider granting his wish. She was open to the possibility of him not granting her grandfather’s wish because the key word is ‘consider’, but didn’t expect the whole keeping most of the wishes thing forever- which is why the argument occurred. They both got valid arguments ngl.
By the way, before anyone attacks me- I love both characters deeply and I think they’re both right and wrong and that the conflict could’ve been solved if the wish system was reformed and more clear. Not everyone is just good or just evil (no one is a villain in this movie, man, really it’s just the damn book. They’re all humans who think like humans and act like humans). Again, I adore them both. Anyways- I think I’m losing track.
So we know that Asha’s goal is to give the people of Rosas a chance to pursue their dreams themselves. Imo, that’s entirely selfless. And as for those bad wishes, Asha is aware there should be a regulation for those and should be stopped- so of course, she’s advocating for the good wishes. I know some are vague but- okay that is for a different possible post. I’m going to get on with the deal between Star and Asha.
Asha is selfless, period. She never wants something solely for herself and she barely even thinks about what she wants for herself only. She even got a magic wand twice and tried to reject it the second time she got it. Yayay selfless heroine. I’m sorry it’s late at night right now.
The moment Star comes down from the sky is seemingly the first appearance of a wishing star ever. At least to the kingdom of Rosas that is. I like to think that there are multiple stars out there and this one seemed to hear Asha’s pleas. My belief is that the more selfless, kind-hearted, and passionate a wish is… the more likely a star will actually come down to help you out.
LIKE WITH HOW FAIRIES ARE BORN IN THE TINKERBELLE MOVIES WHERE A CHILD’S FIRST LAUGH BLOWS AWAY A DANDELION SEED AND A FAIRY IS BORN- oh my god that’s genius. Now I like the idea of these wishing stars being born from selfless wishes 😭 I need to sleep.
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(some disney concept art from idk where i just thought it was pretty. Not even sure this is wish bruh)
Also the fact that Asha’s father was a philosopher who talked about stars all the time, and taught Asha about the stars. We know all about that ya’ll I don’t gotta explain. She wished to the sky for a while now that I think about it.
Yeah that’s all I gotta say for that. Gonna also clarify that I recognize that Asha is a little naive in the movie, but she’s not purely dumb- maybe another post for another day idk. I love her anyways (don’t worry I love Magnifico, I choose both of their sides but this isn’t about him. If you think i don’t like him istg I love magnifico i think about him 24/7 on the dot every hour help me).
My thoughts are a little jumbled, but I’d like to put out more posts on my interpretations despite my worries. I’ll try my best to get my words out, but at the end of the day, this is all fictional and all in good fun. Good night ✨
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(would the plants be sad that they can only sit in one spot now that they’re conscious or something?)
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short-black-diamond · 10 months
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HI DIAMOND!! :D
I finished reading your fic to my request and it was really fun!! Although what I had in mind was different, it was still fun! I really like how it really matches the vibe :DD
But I'm here to explain the nanbaka reverse au: so basically there's like this one picture I found of cell 13 wearing different guards' outfit so I went like "Oh my god what if the guards and prisoners had a reverse role" like it would be so cool
That's my whole thought process :]
- 🍰nom
Naaaw, now I wanna see that pic too... Anyways, my precious 🍰nom, I'll start with headcannons and then I will just recreate one of the scenes if that's alright with you, okay?
Warnings: Nanbaka on crack, hopefully funny scenes, swearing
---
Don't let your guard down!
To be honest, Hajime didn't even deserve to be here
He was just minding his business when all of a sudden, some drunk guy came to him and punched him
And that's how he somehow ended up here, in Nanba
Nanba as itself was nice, but the inmates as well as the guards there were a bit stupid
For example there was one building, where apparently two "handsome" guards, aka Trois and Honey, went to events for who was the most pretty person, along with their "handsome" inmate, Kiji Mitsuba
why were there even events for handsome prisoners and guards??
Or when he saw a blue haired woman who glared at him?
Hajime always shuddered when he thought about her glare.
Then there was his old friend, Mitsuru Hitokoe who was way too loud, and even though Hajime held him somwhat dear to him, he was glad he didn't have to share a cell with him.
but when looking at his own guards?
No thanks
---
Hajime didn't like this. One. Bit.
Why couldn't he just chill in his own cell? He could've been more productive. He'd even share a cell with the monkey inmate, Samon Gokuu. At least he could fight against him...
But here? In cell 13?
Nah, everything was shit.
He had to share his precious cell with the crybaby Seitaro Tanabata, who got bullied by the four guards who were supervising this building. The other cellmate was Yamato Godai, who was eerily fond of training his body and tormented his it with a sunshine face.
Yeah, Hajime didn't get why or how these two guys could end up doing a crime that they'd end up here in Nanba, but oh well.
"Hajime~!", Uno's voice echoed, and Hajime 'Tsk!'ed only at the approaching footsteps of the young guard. "Did ya miss us~?"
"Hell no. Now leave me alone.", he only grumbled, facing the door with his back.
Uno only chuckled before he started speaking again. "A special inmate would like to speak to youuuuu!"
Hajime only had a vague idea of who it might be.
Samon? Maybe. Or that dog like guy...what was his name?
Yakuza...yokai...Ah! Yozakura Kenshirou!
"Who is it?", he only asked impatiently before he got dragged out. Uno was humming happily ahead while Hajime was thinking of a way to escape or at least go back to his cell, but Uno's grip was terrifyingly strong.
"Say...where's the rest of you? You know, Jyugo, Nico and Rock?"
"They are speaking to her. That's why I'm dragging you there as well, you know? To be honest, it should've been one of the others to take you there. She was so pretty!"
All Hajime heard was Uno's annoyingly high pitched voice as the guard described the girl to him. Hajime had a feeling that he knew that girl all too well.
When they finally arrived the cell, tick marks appeared on Hajime's temple and neck.
"What the hell are you doing here?!", the inmate yelled, but got hit by Rock.
"Hello Hajime!", the person on the other end of the visiting room greeted.
The guards looked back and forth between the blonde and the bald one.
"So what gives? You said you didn't have a girlfriend Haji-"
"Don't change the subject!", the inmate yelled.
"That's his girl? Ah, there's no way.", Rock said.
"Out of his league.", Uno stated.
"You catch her at a low point?", Nico asked.
"You freaking punks-", Hajime started, but got interrupted by the blonde.
"Big brother, who are all these boys?", the relative asked, and the guards repeated the words "big brother" in an asking manner.
"Oh so are these your friends?"
"Like hell they are!"
The blonde haired person then looked at the guards with a smile. "Everyone, please take care of my brother."
and they answered with blushing faces. "Sure~!"
However, Jyugo had a question. "What's the deal Hajime? You never told us you had a sister."
Undo chimed in, again with his high pitched voice. "It's also kinda rude that you haven't untroduced us yet!"
"Her dress is adorable!", Nico complimented the blonde.
"Almost as cute as her.", Rock said while averting his eyes.
"He's my brother.", Hajime only said.
"Huh?"
"This is my little bro-ther.", Hajime pronounced.
His brother smiled. "Hitoshi Sugoroku."
And then the guards lost it. They all screamed and Uno asked Jyugo something weird. "You said you liked boys too, right, Jyugo?!"
And he just nodded. "Yep, I did."
Hajime just couldn't with these idiot guards.
___
Hello again! I hope this was okay, I didn't really know what else to write, so this is it for now! Tbh it was kinda short in my opinion...
Please write in the comments how you found it, and yeah!
Read you in the next post!
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someone-named-adel · 16 days
Text
I took advantage of making a second part while my brain was still fresh with the idea
—Ugh, how long are we going to be like this Don- Mikey complained, throwing his hands up in the air.
—Yeah, I agree with Mikey, even though we look cute in April and MC's eyes, and we have more time with them now, it doesn't take away from the fact that it's annoying to be a baby all the time.
—I know, I know, I know, I know, but what do they expect me to do? Every time I try to find an explanation at least to this whole situation, April and MC come into my lab to try to get, at least, some information!
—I still don't understand guys, how come you thought this was such a good idea?
—That's the problem, my dear brother, these two fools over there didn't even think of it!- Donatello points to Leonardo and Michelangelo, who let out an offended "Hey!" in unison.
Raphael sighed —Well, whatever, if April and you find out the truth, the blame falls on you three, since you had the wonderful idea and I was just a victim in all this- Raphael points at his three brothers accusingly, leaving no room for any complaints.
Three voices were heard complaining in unison, but without refuting the words of the eldest turtle.
-Well, whatever, it's my turn to carry Aby- Leonardo approached Donatello, trying to take the stuffed turtle out of his hands.
-Don't even think about it, little brother, this stuffed animal fits perfectly in my hands and it's definitely NOT made for guys like you- Donatello said with annoyance, pushing the roughly made turtle stuffed animal away from Leonardo's hands.
—Guys, stop it, don't be childish for God's sake, we may look like babies now, but that doesn't take away from the fact that we are already mature people- Raphael said, separating Leonardo from Donatello, in a somewhat vague attempt to end the discussion.
As Mikey was about to say something to refute Raphael's comment, two distinct hurried footsteps were heard.
Quickly the door to the room they were in was flung open.
In the doorway, MC and Abril appeared, both looking tired and with sweat running down their foreheads.
—There you were, guys- April gasped, stumbling into the room.
—I told you we had to search our homes- MC spoke, shakily entering the room, taking baby Mikey, who was closest to the door, in their arms, and almost throwing theyself off as they sat on the edge of the bed with Baby Mikey in their arms.
—Why are You in the MC department? How did you get to their apartment? Do you know how worried we were when we didn't find you four in the lair when we woke up a couple of hours ago? Do you guys have any idea how terrified we were that something might happen to you out there in the street with all those weird people running around town? Were You guys even aware of the danger You four were in, especially now that you are babies?- April questioned and scolded in an accusatory tone as she pointed one hand at the four little turtles, resting the other on her hip, the four baby turtles ducked their heads and shrugged their shoulders more and more as April continued to scold them.
Sensing that they weren't going to get anywhere at this rate, April let out a resigned sigh, and calmly asked —Are you all okay?-
Receiving an affirmative to that, April took Baby Donatello in her arms and sat down next to MC on the bed, giving a few light taps on the side of it to indicate Baby Rafael and Baby Leonardo to sit next to her.
Heeding April's request, Baby Rafael and Baby Leonardo sat on the bed with they, only Baby Rafael went to April's side, and Baby Leonardo positioned himself in between her and MC.
I will write more tomorrow
Maybe
Or maybe in the next year
Who knows?
Everything comes and goes without rest
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enquiringangel · 6 months
Note
idea for a little drabble, and you can take whatever tone you want with it, dark or lighthearted: Max seeking out Michael or, oof, Sam, to talk to alone. Putting on airs of 'well, I just want to get to know my possible future step-sons'. Alternatively, Max wanting to introduce His Boys to Lucy and how that goes down lol. Just some ideas!
(for the record I love both of these and may do the second one later.)
paterfamilias
Sam couldn't believe his mom was making him do this. "Do I have to?" he whined, dragging his heels on the way from the car to the door of his mother's workplace.
Max may not be the head vampire, but this small redeeming feature did nothing to increase Sam's desire to spend time alone in the man's company. Which both his mother and the dork in question were keen for him to do.
Sam was aware of the irony of someone with nerdy interests like him calling someone else a dork. But if Michael were here, then he would definitely have pegged Max as a loser from fifty paces away. (Mike hadn't come home last night. Sam was worried sick about him. He didn't have time for this bullshit when he needed to be looking for his brother so he could save him before he did something stupid and irreversible.) "Yes, you do," Sam's mother said firmly as she zipped her car keys securely into her purse. "It's the least you can do to make up for your recent behavior." She gave him a look that let him know that yes, he was still definitely in trouble for that. "I thought it was incredibly sweet of Max to offer, considering that he barely knows me." His mother smiled to herself and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
"But mom, what if he's a weirdo?" Sam tried to argue. "You've spent my whole life telling me not to take candy from strangers, now you're sending me off to go get ice cream with one?"
"Samuel Emerson." The sound of his full legal name from her lips was like the crack of a whip. "I don't want to hear you implying that kind of thing about Max again. He's been nothing but kind, he doesn't deserve that. Am I understood?" "...yes, Mom. Sorry." With no way out of the situation, Sam trudged after his mother feeling vaguely like someone marching to his own execution. When they got inside, Max was at the counter talking to the pretty cashier and gesticulating at one of the displays with a pen. At their entry, the bell above the door jingled and he turned. "Ah, there you are," he said, bestowing Sam's mom with a beaming, crooked smile. She ducked her face slightly and smiled coyly in return. Gross. Old people shouldn't be allowed to make eyes at each other, especially not his mother. (Even if she did look happier than he'd seen her in ages.) It was bad enough when both people involved were actually his parents, never mind this weirdly tall guy who looked like his suits were all made out of old tablecloths. Sam hovered behind his mother as she smiled and chatted with Max for a few moments, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the carpet boredly. He let his eyes wander around the video displays, lingering on a section labelled 'ADULT'. ...Wait, they rented out porn here? Sam was immediately wildly curious, having never seen anything of the kind other than dirty magazines his friends in Phoenix had swiped from their older brothers. (When Sam had gingerly searched around Michael's room all he'd found was a bunch of men's health magazines full of oily beefcakes lifting weights. Lame. There had been no time to search beneath the mattress because Mike had been coming back up the stairs and he would've shown no mercy if he'd caught Sam snooping in his room.)
He was surreptitiously craning his neck for a better look at the titles in that section when the sound of his name abruptly dragged him back to reality.
“—to go, Sam?" Max was blinking at him expectantly, a polite smile still in place.
"Uh, yeah," Sam replied, trying to sound like he'd been paying attention. He must have done okay because his mom gave him a small smile and a wave as she told them to have fun.
He doubted that, somehow.
The ice cream parlour wasn't far, just around the corner. Max gestured for him to sit in a booth and ordered them both sundaes without even consulting Sam on what he'd like on his. Rude. His righteous indignation was dampened somewhat at the sight of the towering confection Max set down in front of him - a smorgasbord of gelato, whipped cream, fudge brownie pieces, sprinkles and a drizzling of chocolate and strawberry sauces.
"Bon appetit," Max said, raising his spoon. He scooped a mouthful of ice cream into his mouth and hummed approvingly. "Mm, still good. It's been a while since I've come here. My boys are too cool to be seen with me these days."
"You have kids?" Sam asked, curious despite himself. His mom had never said anything about it.
"I have a family," Max agreed. "Five boys."
"Oh. I didn't know that." That was a lot of kids. It seemed weird Mom hadn't mentioned something like that.
"There's a lot we don't know about each other," Max said patiently. "It's why I wanted to do this. I wanted to clear the air after last night and to let you know that I'm not angry about your sabotage. I understand. Believe me, my boys have been very difficult on the matter too." He shook his head slightly and sighed.
Sam looked down at his sundae. He didn't really want anything to do with this guy and his 'I just want to be your friend' bit, but it's not like there was anything actually wrong with him other than the fact that he wasn't his father. And that their father hadn't cared enough about them to fight for visitation.
"You should eat that before it starts to melt," Max said, watching Sam closely.
Reluctantly, Sam swiped his spoon through the ice cream, making sure he got a good amount of sprinkles, both sauces, and a chunk of brownie on it before popping it into his mouth. At first contact with his tongue there was an unexpected flavor, something a little tangy and kind of salty. Maybe caramel or something? After a moment it passed, replaced by an exquisite sweetness. This was easily the best ice cream he had ever tasted - it was quite possibly the best thing he had ever tasted. Sam dug his spoon back in and leant forward, shoveling ice cream down the hatch with a soft hum of pleasure.
Across from him, Max leant back against the booth and watched him eat with a satisfied smile. "I have to say you did surprise me though, Sam. Though for future reference, garlic doesn't work that way."
Sam froze, spoon still between his lips.
Max regarded him benignly. "Bulbs of garlic don't do squat against vampires. It's the flowers that do it."
He felt light-headed and strangely incapable of the panic he should be feeling. Sam blinked down at his half-eaten and partially melting sundae, and at the streaks of brown and red sauce smeared against the glass. Not sauce.
He raised his eyes to the window and saw himself sitting alone at the booth, his reflection growing fainter by the second.
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Hazbin Hotel Episode 7 blind blogging.
spoilers and whatnot.
BITCH YOU WERE HARMED!!! What? Vaggie saying that she didn't know angels could be harmed is insane. Maybe the thing that harmed you was used to kill that angel, how was that not an idea that popped into their heads? I didn't have much to say until 4 and a half minutes in cuz it was mostly the clip that was already released. I was thinking about not even doing this until Charlie and Vaggie started talking about what to do about the angels. Working back a bit cuz I guess I'm doing this now. Pen petting the cat was cute. It's odd that none of the other hotel gang have questions about Vaggie being an angel. Like, she was down there killing sinners. For them to be alright with her, while Charlie, the one who is forgiving to an actual fault, is the one with the problem is odd. Yeah, they're girlfriends, but Vaggie's reasoning is 100% something Charlie would roll over and accept no questions asked.
Anyway, I’ll add it hear, cuz why not, but like why isn’t Angel more invested in the redemption plan. Earlier in the season at least. Cuz proof or not, that would be the best way for him to get away from Val.
He’s only at the hotel so he doesn’t have to live with him, but if Angel could get into heaven, then that’s it. Now, knowing that no one knows how to actually get into heaven (if the hotel gang even know that yet), it makes sense that he’s not enthusiastic. But if not, then he should be a pushy about it as Charlie.
Okay back to the episode in progress.
Alastor's image in the window was a neat shot, loved that. Very curious to see what he wants Charlie to do for him.
Charlie never being to cannibal town kinda bothers me. Like she wants to redeem sinners, but she clearly doesn’t know much about them. As the princess of hell, she should at least care enough to know something like what region is the least violent or vaguely peaceful.
More children in hell, this continues to bother me. Also, I’m not found of Rosie’s voice. It isn’t bad, it just doesn’t seem to fit her.
How does not one know what Hell’s royalty look like? Like what is the point of the Morningstar’s being referred to as royals if it means nothing? They might as well be know as the oldest family in hell, it would have the same weight.
Carmilla, my girl is back on screen. And she proves my point. Being a princess of hell is not a title with any weight or power. Also, bold of Vaggie to thing she wasn’t going to get jumped the second she stepped outside.
My girl’s point out the facts, Charlie’s actions have only made things worse. Susan is me whenever Carmilla isn’t on screen.
Lol Charlie finally snapped.
First, Carmilla with her hair down, love that. Second, ITS AN ANGELIC SPEAR!?!? No one else caught that!?!? REally?
Vaggie swings around and angelic weapon and not only did she not think someone would notice, no one fucking noticed!
How did Vaggie not know that she could be harmed? Don’t the angels go through training or something, or is it whoever wants to be on the murder squad gets to go? What is the logic in this?
(monotone) oh wow I was right angelic weapons harm angels.
These characters are so stupid i hope heaven wins.
Not to doubt my girl, but how does Carmilla know this much about angels? It’s implied that none of them have been hurt or killed before, but she’s talking like she’d been doing this for a while.
Also, what is the point of Vaggie being an angel is she knows literal nothing about them and has to be taught how to fight against them.
I’m sorry, but no. The angels leave their spears lying around and NO ONE has ever taken one and tried to use it against them in self defense and succeed, ever? I refuse to believe that. The exterminations happen every year, not one ever had the idea to fight back using the angels own spears. In an environment were killing and fighting is the norm. Bullshit.
Song #1
An overlord of hell singing about how fighting for love is the key is kind of…off.
Her wings came back? Why? Because of love…does that mean she just didn’t love Charlie enough?
The song is flat and kinda boring. Visuals are alright, a lot of jumping around. But Carmilla’s on screen and I’m a simple critter, so 4/10 i guess.
Charlie just coming out and telling someone she just met that Vaggie is an angels feels dangerous. Like these guys have been killing sinners forever, like, people finding out should put a huge target on Vaggie’s back.
(Deep inhale) the song has not started yet, BUT if Charlie’s singing explanation works this time and the only reason it hasn’t in the past is because she’s been doing it to the wrong crowd, im going to loose it.
No, the problem wasn’t that she was delusional and didn’t thing her plan all the way through, its just she wasn’t doing it to the right sinners /s
Charlies problem of singing her way through things is going to be linked with Lilith isn’t it?
Song #2
Destiny did not pick her for anything. The problem she, and the rest of hell, is facing is caused by her direct actions. That’s not destiny, that’s cleaning your own mess.
The cannibals weren’t convinced by her singing, they just want to eat the angels. A think Alastor tells them. Why is charlie even here? He could have walked up that gazebo and asked if they wanted to try angel meat, they would have agreed and he’d be like cool but you have to fight for it. Like what?
Charlie is put off by the cannibal town wanting to murder, where does she think she is? Why does she think she’s recruiting them? They angels aren’t going to go away after a bit of push back, death is going to happen.
Her naivete is leaning towards stupid, she has not idea about anything.
She singing like she’s a leader, so are rosie and alastor, but they crowd isn’t even excited about defending hell or seeing new places, or whatever charlie is trying to say. They want angel flesh, that’s it. Charlie isn’t a leader her, she’s just a messenger for an idea that isn’t her’s. The hotel and hell being defended would just be a byproduct of the cannibals killing enough angel for their own goals.
And suddenly everyone is singing together about fight heaven for no reason.
She’s not going to question the wings at all? After all that moping and complain? No one in the crowd is going to react to an angel after just singing about killing them? Cool
Charlie and Vaggie aren’t going to talk things out at all?
Ending thoughts:
This episode (season) felt rushed. Not time to sit on anything. Not Vaggie being an angel. Not charlie or anyone prepossessing that. Not charlie finally convincing a larger group of people on her side, nothing.
These episodes needed to be twice as long or have twice as many at least. Nothing has saying power.
Besides defending all of hell, there’s isn’t any reason why the hotel gang couldn’t just evacuate the building and stay somewhere else if they were that sure angels couldn’t be stopped. They could have stayed with lucifer for a day, I doubt the angel bother him.
None of the accomplishments in the episode felt earned. Alastor gave charlie all the answers. Vaggie had to learn about the weaknesses of angels despite being one. She’s only been down there for three years, so it isn’t like she forgot overtime.
Neither of the songs were that good. Overall this is probably the worst episode for me.
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loving-delusions · 7 months
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it was just supposed to be a warm up,,, how did it end up like this lmao
also correction evil lunar wasn't the only one left in his dimension lol he mentioned having 200 something ppl still around
deets under the cut because i dont wanna take up much space rambling endlessly
basic explanation uhmm
these are the two lunars from different dimensions that got shown in the Sun and Moon Show :3
i actually have a headcannon that the people that use the star ends up having a mark of the star somewhere on their body
lunar doesnt look like he's melting in these because. unlike the currently dead eclipse we have. he actually used the star and didnt need to store all of it in his body. he has a way to keep it from overhwleming his body ((death and destruction rrraaahh))
and i also have an additional thing related to where the star is located, because i think that's where they 'change', yknow...?????
Eclipse has it on his chest, hence his change of heart
because in my little itty bitty head i think he does end up feeling bad about shit once the star has taken root on him
but his pride kinda got in the way?? and he didn't admit to his fault quick enough so he just up and died lmao, i dont know, just pretend this makes sense
Lunar has it on his head or forehead or wtv, which is like changing how he acts, in a way
he kind of loses himself, like he doesn't hold back on what he wants to do and just crosses the line on where his morals are
i mean yeah, he's one chaotic sonofabitch
but with the star he disregards almost everything just to cater to his own wants with the star just corrupting shit in his head and changing him
Sun and Moon have the mark on their hands
i dont wanna mention which hands because i forgot which of them prefers whichever hand... but it's in their preferred hands to use when writing, because ambidextrous shit
i haven't thought about these two in using the star much
but i did notice they do a lot of.. physical work?
like sun cleans the play area a shit ton, and moon tinkers with his machine and tech. both are a way for them to try and get away from their own stress, i think
i dont have much ideas for them yet but imma think of a way lmao
Earth has the mark on her back
i dont know why. i dont have much idea about her
it started as some joke abt me saying she's the sole backbone of the celestials' familial relationship but i think i just predicted that because she actually is turning out to be that
girly is breaking her back trying to fix shit
but yeah i only have the location and a vague idea/explanation why that's the location
also if the star glows behind her it would cast light on her cloudy hair and itd look like a cool lunar eclipse
(( hehe.. lunar eclipse... get it? because she's with lunar))
((and sun (which is a star)—earth—moon is the positioning of a lunar eclipse— okay that's enough))
I don't know about Monty, but it's probably in his eye or replaced one of his eyes. imagine like a messed up scar the shape of a four-pointed star
at least he wouldn't need his glasses to have stars in his eyes now lmaoo
Headmaster Lunar
named him that bc Eclipse called him that in the episode once
i see him like some (:3) character that could definitely tell you're bullshitting him and doesn't appreciate your lies Not One Bit.
he'd make sure you get the consequences for bullshitting him
that's the vibe i get
and because of the headmaster title uhmmm... think of him like the chill professor/instructor that still does what he's supposed to, as long as you're not causing major trouble, yknow?
older of the two ((between him and evil lunar))
"Evil" Lunar
would fling you to the sun for funsies
i think he's close to Headmaster Lunar's age, but still younger
this is like HM's Lunar's edgy phase where he lets out all his frustrations and just fuck all and just destroys and incinerates people
do you think he plays god in that church of his, those that pray for their survival
he also mentioned being able to create people, which means at least a few of the 200 something people are actually some of his creation..
hm :3
ALSO!!! side rant
In the episode with Evil Lunar, it's said that it should be the same dimension that Gregory went to, even the computer said so
so it's a little weird that it's different to the one Gregory saw
I have a lil theory that Sun did land in the same dimension that Gregory did, but in a different time maybe..?
which kind of ties to what i mentioned about Evil lunar seeming to be a bit younger than HM Lunar :0
Because in Evil Lunar's setting, he's still in earth i think. the nuke bomb stuff from the government is still there, meaning humanity still existed or at least majority of humanity had not been gone for a long ass time
While in HM Lunar's setting, he mentioned making a platform far from earth to escape the wither storm that's consuming stuff
And! Evil Lunar mentioned being able to create people.
But could he create machines..?
Do you think after destroying most of the earth, he got bored of destroying things and just stuck with creating and just toned down his destructiveness? He created organic life, humans, and possibly created machines as well?
What im saying is that Evil Lunar probably recreated Eclipse after his whole world destruction thing, and then we now have Headmaster Lunar's current place in the timeline.
does this make sense. am i making sense to you. do you understand the words im saying.
So yeah.
Sun met the other Lunar's younger version, while Gregory met the older one :)
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hadeantaiga · 7 months
Note
"Stop telling people to encourage the cop inside their head...you do not need to be careful" "I can write tentacle noncon of my favorite character all day long" Ahh. It's always about finding ways to justify rape, isn't it? Fantasizing about rape absolutely makes you a bad person, and definitely tells a lot about your character. If you can masturbate to it, you're definitely okay with it to some degree. Studies show men exposed to rape porn are more likely to believe women enjoy rape and that it's not that big of a crime, especially if the victim shows a positive reaction to it. Fictional acting doesn't change the fact that your orgasm is real. These things DO affect real life. So pathetic.
"Fantasizing about rape absolutely makes you a bad person."
No it doesn't. Thoughtcrime is not real. I just imagined a random person getting stabbed right now, just to do it. Didn't make me a bad person.
I see you quote studies about cis men watching rape fantasy porn. But did you know that the women in those videos aren't actually being raped? They are actresses. They are playing a role. I notice you also don't cite any studies about cis women who enjoy rape fantasies. Do the studies show that these women also think real-life rape victims secretly enjoy being raped? And how do those numbers change when you involve trans people, including binary and nonbinary trans people?
I'm sorry but statistics about a single demographic of humans just isn't very convincing to me, especially when that demographic is cis men. Y'all always act like they are the only demographic that matters when it comes to sexual fantasy, and that's super weird to me.
And I'd argue that the idea that real-life women secretly like being raped is not caused by porn, but that the trope itself is a symptom of the patriarchy. That said, I don't think rape fantasies would disappear if the patriarchy disappeared. Because again, "this woman secretly enjoyed being raped and ravaged" is not exclusive to porn catered towards cis men. It's literally an entire romance novel genre written by and catered towards women. In this case, the reader is placing herself not in the position of the offender, but that of the victim. One could argue that these novels, because they reveal the inner thoughts of the character and how much she's actually enjoying the rape, are even more harmful than porn movies, since at least in the movie, we aren't 100% sure if the character the porn actress is playing is actually enjoying it, since we're not privy to the character's thoughts.
Hey - do you like horror movies? Do you think the writers, directors, crew, and actors are trying to justify violence? Do you think the people who made Friday the 13th all want to murder teenagers at campgrounds? Do you think the fans who watch these movies and delight in the violence and laugh at it are all secretly serial killers? Because I don't know if you're aware of this, but horror movies are very fun, and audience members do typically enjoy the murders.
What about the hit TV show Hannibal? Do you think the people who made it think cannibalism is ok? The show really glorifies cannibalism, rolls it up in a mixture of horror, eroticism and elegance. The main character Will is an incredibly unreliable narrator with regards to Hannibal, because he's partly in love with Hannibal, partly terrified of him, and literally suffering from a brain fever half of one of the seasons. But you're supposed to root for them anyway, you're supposed to be so swept up in their fucked up romance that when Will "betrays" Hannibal, you're supposed to feel heartbreak, and when they finally murder someone together and then plunge off a cliff in blood-soaked ecstasy, that's supposed to be a moment of elated victory.
What about Oldboy? You must HATE this movie - it depicts alcoholism, kidnapping, mind control, and torture. Oh yeah and incest. Is Oldboy trying to justify incest? The ending is kinda vague on what happens to the two main characters, after all.
What about action movies where the hero kills dozens or maybe hundreds of nameless characters on his way to kill the main villain? Are those movies trying to justify violence? They're definitely glorifying the violence.
And me? My noncon fanfic? I'm afab. I still identify as female. I've been into noncon since long before I came out as transmasc. I was finding things like men being tied up fascinating even in my teens, before I ever learned what bondage was.
There was a statue of some colonial guy with his hands tied behind his back in a museum. I stared at that statue for a really long time. Another time during this same age, we watched a Zorro movie, and Zorro was standing there very heroically, all tied up, and I found the scene very moving. Then, again in high school, a buddy was playing Metal Gear Solid. At one point in that game, a robot with long tentacle-like robot arms grabs one of the main characters, Raiden, and squeezes him and thrashes him around a bit. This time, the feelings I felt were definitely erotic.
I had never seen porn at that age. I did not know what bondage was. I didn't know BDSM was a thing. But I still, naturally, all on my own, found bondage erotic - and bondage can have elements of noncon to it. It certainly did in the fantasies I was experiencing. That's because these fantasies and kinks are natural human things. It is NORMAL to find this shit erotic.
Now. If you're watching porn that features rape fantasies and you start to believe that real-life people might secretly enjoy actually being raped, then you need to stop watching that kind of porn. But that applies to anything. If you watch a bunch of horror movies and start to think that maybe, murder is actually good, then you should probably stop watching horror movies. I'm not saying media can't affect people. But I AM saying that's not something that happens to everyone, and I am saying that most people are fully capable of consuming media in responsible ways.
Fictional rape is not about real people. I absolutely do want to justify the continuation of fictional depictions of the taboo and the forbidden, because these are perfectly normal fantasies that humans have had probably for our entire existence.
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The Price You Pay - Part 3
Wanda Maximoff x f!reader
[TPYP Masterlist]
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Life as a college student isn’t always easy, so when the opportunity to make some money by pretending to date your best friend’s sister arise, you decide to take it.
Tags: fake dating, paid dating, jealousy, possessiveness, Pietro’s bestie, darkish!wanda, no Avengers, bad life decisions, college!au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, divorced!parents, Vision is kind of a dick, other mcu characters apparition, no proofreading (lemme know if im missing something)
Warnings: Bad language, alcohol consumption, some violence, smuttyfruity (so, 18+, minors dni, dom!Wanda, bratty!reader, dub con touching, will add warnings when we get to it)
A/n: sooo my sister's cat that im supposed to keep has fled, so if i disappear you'll know why
Tag List: @red1culous @sayah13 @princess-kennys-rats @marrymemcgrath
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Opening your eyes the next day was the worst mistake of your life, your brain pulsating against your cranium like a monkey trying to escape its cage by banging a wrench on the iron bars. You winced, but still looked around. You noticed the glass of water with Advils next to you and took it without a second thought to drink it, thanking your past self for its foresight. Wait… you frowned. Did you? You retraced your steps at the end of the night and then it clicked. It must have been Wanda.
Wanda… everything from yesterday suddenly came back to you and you blinked. All the small touches, the various kisses, and what you accidentally heard too. The way she made sure you wouldn't talk was etched in your brain, too. It all made you want to disappear in your bed again for the day. This was certainly the best way to face everything.
But then you opened an eye to look at the now empty glass of water. Whatever happened she was nice enough to take care of you until you were safely home and even make sure you'd have a vaguely nice morning, which meant you were probably okay. Which was good, because she still had to give you your hoodie back. And pay you. And that was already going to be awkward enough without adding another layer to it.
Now, it meant that you had to contact her. You extended your hand and grabbed your phone that was in your jeans pocket and took a quick look. You had a few texts from Pietro sending you memes - you took the time to react - and to your surprise you already had a message from Wanda.
[01:13 am - Wanda] Hope you sleep well and your hangover isn't too bad tomorrow. Send me a message when you wake up.
You rolled on your back to look at the message better. She must have sent it when she got home or around that time, so it at least gave you an idea of when you yourself arrived. Now you just had to answer.
[11:37 am - Y/n (neighbor)] Only woke up. Thx for the water. Wanna meet today?
You looked at your phone for a few seconds, seeing the sent sign next to the message before you decided to get up. You were in dire need of a shower, and a breakfast. When you came out of the shower you noticed that she had already answered you.
[11:41 am - Wanda] Did you drink it all? What time works for you?
[11:55 am - Y/n (neighbor)] Yeah, I did, it was a life saver. In 30min? 
This time you were downstairs, preparing some food for yourself when she answered.
[11:58 am - Wanda] I'll be there
You looked at your toast and eggs and stretched, leaving her on read since the time had been agreed upon. It took you fifteen more minutes to eat and brush your teeth so you would be ready for when she showed up. That was a good opportunity to check on your socials until the doorbell rang and you got up to go get it.
Wanda looked as fresh as a flower, like she never even got to a party yesterday, and you felt out of place with your sweatpants and sports bra since the temperatures were already going high today. Until something got your attention. She was actually wearing your hoodie - she even had rolled up the sleeves, allowing you to see her numerous bracelets on her wrists and rings on her fingers. You blinked a few times when you noticed, and as she did the last time she was at your door, she came in without waiting to be invited. You didn't even think to protest, simply letting her in. She took an envelope out of the pocket of the hoodie and handed it to you.
"Here, for yesterday," she said with a very calm voice. Very awkwardly you took it, not really knowing what to do with it now that you had it. "You can count if you want."
"No, I trust you," you blurted out nervously. Why did you have to be such a wreck? "Thanks." You eyed your hoodie, and she must have noticed because she smirked.
"Was that all?" She asked teasingly, taking a step your way, her hand chasing a loose hair on your collarbone before she flattened her palm against your shoulder. "Or was there something else you wanted to tell me?"
You nervously played with your fingers, deciding to quickly hide them in your pockets to stop. It didn't help that she traced some small circles against your skin. "Um. Can I get back my hoodie." She cocked her other eyebrow. "Please."
"That's what I like to hear." Her fingers went up your neck, light as feathers, and you knew there was a line of goosebump where she touched you. She wanted to play some more with you, suggest that you were the one to take it off, but she knew it would be pushing you too much for now. So she stopped touching you, and she took off the hoodie to put it on your shoulders.
That's when you realized it smelled like her now. Lilac, rose, and sandalwood. You wondered if it was on purpose, but there was no way. It was probably just because it was in her room or something.
"Thanks," you said, quickly. "Maybe next time if you need to borrow something you can just ask, or something." It was a simple joke but the way she smirked told you there was something she found amusing that you didn't quite get.
"I'll think about it." She took a step towards the door at that moment, and you followed her with your gaze. Before she could move too far she turned to you again. "If I ever need you again, I'll let you know."
"I might want to renegotiate my rates after the third time." This time she laughed and shook her head, licking her lips before she answered.
"If you do as good a job as yesterday I'll make sure to reward you accordingly." Something was telling you she might be talking about something else than money, and your imagination ran wild with images from yesterday.
She disappeared from the house and you blinked a few times before you regained your focus on reality.
*
Running was a good way to clear your mind, but it wasn't so good when you were trying to keep up with Pietro. He was running circles around you while each breath you took felt like torture. Lucky for you, you were almost done making your way around the neighborhood, and you could see his house standing right next to yours. You assembled the meagre energy that was left in you and made one last sprint before you completely stopped once you reached his door, simply collapsing on the march in front of it.
"Hey, that wasn't so bad, was it, Y/n?"
"That was hell," you answered, taking the bottle he was extending towards you to take a big swing. Then you proceeded to throw some more water on your face.
"That's payback for when you had me swim five kilometers the other day."
"That was for your own good," you protested. "Plus it's not my fault if you took my remark as a challenge."
"How is 'I bet you can't keep up with me' not a challenge?"
He had a point, and just as you were about to answer masterfully, the window next to the door opened and Wanda's head popped here.
"I'm trying to read, do you have to be so noisy, both of you?" Her glare stopped on you longer than it should have, taking note of your general appearance after you exercised.
"What? we're not doing anything wrong, are we?" You asked with a shit eating grin. "Or is talking illegal now?"
Something dark crossed her eyes, and you almost missed it. You wondered what it was, and if it had anything to do with what you heard the other day, or if she was just pissed. More likely, it was the second one.
"Pietro, get your bestfriend under control, or she's not allowed inside ever again."
He laughed at that, and you snorted. "Like anyone could ever control Y/n."
Wanda narrowed her eyes at that, in the same way Pietro did whenever he was issued a challenge, but she said nothing and simply closed the window. Probably to get back to reading.
"Alright, I'm going to shower and change. Still up for food and a game after?"
"Yeah, yeah. See you in a few minutes."
You stood up and walked to your home, your calves on fire, but you managed to arrive. This time you opted for a nice short and a sleeveless top when you came out of the shower, and finally joined the Maximoff household. Once inside, you joined Pietro on the couch and you started playing as you waited for the food. Wanda was nowhere to be seen, and you guessed she probably chose to go read upstairs knowing you would be playing in the living room. It took some time for the pizzas to show up, and when they did, Pietro turned to you.
"I'm gonna go grab them, you think you can get Wanda to join us?"
You nodded at that, getting up and stretching as you stood up to get upstairs. You had enough sleepovers to know where Wanda's room was, so you were quick to stand in front of her door. But, as you stood there, you swore you could hear her voice coming in hushed moans from the other side. Her voice. Saying your name. At this point, you just wanted so many different things, your brain - and body - pulling you in so many different directions. You wanted to stay there and listen, wetness growing between your legs unto your panties, and you wanted to flee, act like you heard nothing and leave all this behind you. A small voice also whispered so you would open the door, maybe just a crack, to see what exactly was going on in the room. In the end, you chose to be sensible, and you simply knocked on the door.
"Food has arrived Wanda," you announced through the door and all noise ceased on the other side.
"I'll be there in a minute," she answered, and you were certain you could hear the heavy breathlessness in her voice.
You had done what was required of you, now you could go back downstairs and act like nothing ever happened. Except it did, and the way your underwear felt was the witness of what you heard. You sighed; you were going to be so uncomfortable for the rest of the night.
You walked in the living room and sat back on the couch where Pietro was waiting for you with the food. "Took you long enough," he remarked.
"It took a bit for your sister to answer," you deflected. And speaking of the Devil, she joined you, a small paid cover around the shoulders.
"I fell asleep." She sat between you and Pietro, instead of taking the free couch. For a second you considered changing sides but thought it might look suspicious, so you stayed where you were. "Pizza again?"
You rolled your eyes. "If you're not happy with that, you can always cook."
The offhand comment got her attention, and she tilted her head at you. The way her gaze burned onto you made you want to apologize, but you stayed strong. You focused on the tv where you had resumed playing with Pietro. She hated that she had to let it slide for now, so instead she decided to grab the tv controller and change the input.
"Oh, come on, Wan!" Pietro complained. "We're playing!"
"And I want to watch something while I eat."
As usual with his sister, he let it go rather fast, and soon enough the three of you were watching one of her favourite sitcoms. During this time she started to expand her territory on the couch, and you found yourself closer with her than you were when she first joined, her plaid now covering her legs and yours. It felt nice in the air conditioned room considering the shorts you were wearing, so you didn't bother getting it off you, and in retrospect you realized it might have been a mistake, because you quickly felt Wanda's hand on your thigh.
At first, you thought you had imagined it. It was just a brush of the finger, just a mistake that still made you go straight in your seat. But quickly it happened again to form a caress on your skin, something that was definitely deliberate, and you didn't know what to do. So you did nothing. You let her continue, let her fingertips explore your exposed skin under the plaid, and prayed Pietro wouldn't see the way you tensed. Luckily, for now, he was on his phone.
But Wanda got bolder at your lack of reaction. Her fingers became her whole hand, and the exploration became more involved, prying open your legs so she could put her hand inside your thigh. Warmth spread inside you like a wildfire and you pinched your lips to avoid making any noise that could signal what was going on. Not that you had any idea of what it actually was, because what the hell was Wanda thinking right now?
You glanced at her to try and understand, but her eyes were focused on the screen in front of her like nothing was happening. Whatever game she was playing, she knew how to hide it, but you decided it was enough of it when her pinky started hiking up under your shorts. This was too much, you had to stop her before she went too far, no matter how good it was and how much you just wanted to see how far she was going to go. You were right next to Pietro, for fuck's sake!
So you put your hand on hers and tried to move it away. You placed it back on her own leg, and hoped it was where it would end, but as soon as you retreated, she was back where she was before - just not exactly as far. You decided to let her have it, especially when your best friend took the tv controller at the end of the show's episode to switch back to your game.
"Sorry Wan, dinner is done, it's our time again."
"It's fine," she answered as you grabbed your controller, "it's also fun to watch you play."
At her words, her hand slipped back between your thighs and you thought about dying on the spot. There was no way you would be able to focus with her hand there, going up and down, playing with the hem of your shorts and making it ride up, and up, but with the game going on you also couldn't do anything against it, not without Pietro noticing something. That wasn't even talking about your soaked underwear, or the fact that you could barely hold the controller and focus on the screen.
Your salvation came in the form of a call your best friend had to take.
"Ah, shit, sorry, I'll be back in a sec."
"Yeah, no problem," you answered, not without difficulty to keep your voice steady. Once he was out of the room, you took off the plaid from your legs and Wanda's hand, taking some distance from her. "What the fuck are you doing?!" You whisper-yelled at her.
"Me? I'm just having a bit of fun. Don't you like it?" She tilted her head with a small smile, looking perfectly calm and collected.
"That's not the point," you hissed. "Pietro is right there, and we're not– we're not like that."
She hummed, looking you up and down. You weren't ready yet, but she'd get there, eventually. If it weren't for this pesky call, she would already have gotten away with a lot more than she did, so you were on your way to her.
"Alright," she gave up and rolled her eyes, before she leaned closer, her voice hitting the lower range. "But don't tell me you didn't like it as much as I did. Your eyes are begging for more."
And you knew she was probably right. For all your protestations, the simple caresses she gave you lit you up and high, and in other circumstances you would certainly have buckled under her. But not like that.
She smiled, satisfied, when you failed to contradict her and she stood up from the couch.
"I'm going to bed. I'll see you soon, Y/n."
And with that she disappeared from the room. The rest of the night was uneventful, but when you got home later on, you noticed your hoodie hanging on your desk chair.
With a fair bit of hesitation, you grabbed it and smelled it briefly. Now that you were alone in your room, the idea of Wanda with her hand between your thighs sounded heavenly.
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literary-illuminati · 10 months
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Book Review 28 – Finna by Nino Cipri
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This was another slim book I picked up basically blind entirely so I had something fast on hand to read. Unfortunately, didn’t work out nearly so well for me as most of the other’s I’ve read. Which is a shame, because the fundamental idea behind it is incredible, or at least seemed like an excuse for a kind of ridiculous pulpy adventure that was just made for me.
So, the story’s about a pair of 20-something queer dead-enders working at a bigbox furniture story that is similar to but legally distinct from Ikea. The Monday after they broke up, they find themselves both working a shift at the same time. And, even more awkwardly, after a transient wormhole forms and a customer wanders into a parallel universe’s not!Ikea, the two of them are volunteered to go rescue the wold woman. From this follows adventures through wild and deadly alternate realities, self-discovery, realizing how much there is out in the world, post-breakup reconciliation, a moment of dramatic self-actualization-through-heroic-sacrifice, and so on and et cetera.
Now, there are good qualities to this book, but I will be honest that the weeks since I’ve read it have dulled my memory of everything except the petty annoyances. So this review is basically just going to be complaining about what I thought didn’t work or irked me out of all proportion to its significance. Okay? Okay.
So fundamentally this feels like this could have been a fun, cheesy absurd comedy about some #relatable millennials trapped in retail purgatory and all its kafkaesque upbeat cheer. Tragically it was written by someone whose memories or ideas of what that’s like were warped by too many years on twitter and around people being professionally writer for the book to ever really ring true (to me, at least).
Or, possibly better put, it felt like the book was trying to tell me what sort of story it was and what emotional journeys its characters were going on and what it was trying to satirize more than it ever followed through on any of it? Which is pretty unhelpfully vague as a complain, I’m aware.
More concretely, the emotional arc of the two leads just felt incredibly rushed – these did not feel like two people who had had a messy breakup after an incredible hurtful argument three days before! They were, at most, slightly awkward around each other, and inside of fifty pages they were friends again. Which was just deeply emotionally unsatisfying for what the back cover sold the book as, or for my own desire for my messy drama generally. More generally, they both theoretically have flaws, but you only know this because the narration keeps explicitly saying what they are and how they’re growing past them instead of them ever really, like, meaningfully fucking them over or causing them to be unsympathetic.
Our protagonist also just had an utter surfeit of self-knowledge – her internal monologue sometimes reads more like the author’s notes on the character’s passions, neuroses and flaws than anything anyone would actually think about themselves. Especially someone in her position. And all the therapy-speak just really made me grind my teeth (not least because whatever the book says, there’s no way she’d able to afford the regular therapist sessions she apparently has on regular retail wages. Which is a minor thing but a) it really does annoy me, and b) it feels telling.)
And, fundamentally, the book just kind of took itself too seriously? Or, more properly, given how utterly absurd the premise and most of the set-pieces were, it just wasn’t nearly funny enough. Or horrifying enough, if you wanted to go the other way – there’s the raw material for some decent creepypasta style horror there, but that would kind of undercut how wholesome and uplifting nad etc the narrative’s clearly supposed to be.
So yeah, ended up using some amazing conceits and occasionally great visuals to construct a pretty tepid adventure story around an emotional core that didn’t feel real to me. What a pity.
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4+1
four times Randy and Henrik were fathers to Paislie, and one time she got to be that for Cade.
a/n: i did these in chunks all starting at two in the morning im so sorry for whatever this is about to be or if it doesnt even make sense nrhfrhh-
(sorta edited? nrjffh-)
Paislie couldn't feel shit.
All she knew was, she'd been masked a long time and it felt like her brain was turning into jello.
Inky blackness floated in her vision as she stood at attention, the perfect picture of an innocent lamb that Showfall had dressed around the core of a monster.
Her weak thread of consciousness seemed to simply float around in the darkness. She was unable to do anything unbidden, and though her mind was neither entirely free nor hers, her senses would stay vaguely intact enough to either follow directions or know whether she was in danger.
All day long, she'd heard footsteps come and go, people speaking about her in low voices, and the like. She stood at alert, ready to follow any instruction, but none came.
She'd supposed the ones she could hear now were no different until they came to a quiet stop in front of her.
"Hey," a familiar voice said, and the tiny corner of her brain that was still hers felt a little happier. It probably would've been much more so if she were sure the person who was speaking wasn't mad at her.
"They said you could- should probably come get some rest," Randy told her. "Thought I'd come get ya."
It only took him a second of bemused staring to realize she couldn't verbally answer him.
"Oh, yeah. The mask- yeah." He paused for a second. "Well- either way. We should probably get you to bed. Don't want you to be sore from standing all night when the mask comes off. Come on."
Paislie only tilted her head a little bit. She'd thought Randy would hate her, she'd fought his basically-kids and gotten herself masked. Being a little extra sore would be getting off the hook lucky enough.
"Come on," he repeated, his voice more gentle this time. "It's okay. I know."
What did he know? Did he know the full story? Did he know she probably deserved what she got, like Sneeg had said in the first place? Did he know she'd jumped to anger first even though Charlie had tried to help? Did he know she'd accidentally hurt Charlie anyway?
She looked down. If she'd been able to, she would've cried. Randy should hate her, he deserved to, just like Harmony deserved it, just like August and Kimberlee and the twins-
A gentle hand on her shoulder brought her spiraling train of thought back to the corner of reality she could still process.
"Mask comes off tomorrow. We'll talk about it then. Okay?"
He held out a hand to lead her to her room, and again, if she could have, she would have let out an audible sigh of relief. He wasn't mad. At least not too much. He didn't hate her.
She took his offered hand with genuine quietness that no effect of the mask could ever replicate.
Something about it calmed her down. She figured Randy knew that, though.
Henrik didn't question it when he saw Randy with a masked Paislie beside him. He even picked up one of the blankets from where it was folded at the foot of the bed and handed it to her.
At least for now, she figured, they trusted her. They weren't angry or disappointed or anything else she'd convinced herself they would and should be.
And until they talked it out, she figured, that was enough for her.
-----------------
At first, Paislie had laughed when Henrik offered to cut her hair. In Showfall, everyone got simple haircuts that were quick and easy to effectively maintain. Nothing complex, no special requests. Just a trim or rarely a slightly shorter cut, only enough to make it look nice.
"I've got time," Henrik told her.
Paislie had just finished explaining to him how she wished her hair were shorter, among other non-Showfall approved ideas, but she still hesitated.
"You should just take your break," she said after a second.
Henrik smiled. "You're sure?"
When Paislie paused, he shrugged. "I've got a pretty clear idea of what you were describing. It's quick enough," he added.
"Right, but they'll notice."
"You're one in maybe a thousand people here, they've got more pressing matters than someone's hair getting cut a little extra. If you want, I could put it in a bun for you afterward so they can't tell how much is there."
She sighed, a half-smile on her face. "If you're sure you won't be in trouble for it."
" 'Course I'm sure," he said with a matching smile, nodding towards the wardrobe room. "Come on."
So it was, less than half an hour later, Paislie's hair only reached to her shoulders at the longest, and her bangs were layered better than she could've gotten even from any of the other employees who did actors' hair for the shows.
Henrik almost looked nervous when she didn't say anything for a moment after seeing it.
Paislie had never thought she'd have this much time just for her after she couldn't act in shows anymore. Once she couldn't be loved because there was no more need for her to be, once she wouldn't need comfort anymore because she wasn't physically hurt.
She sighed, smiling as she realized she was breaking down over a haircut, every part of her longing to hug Henrik out of simple gratitude.
"It's perfect," was the only thing she could think to say. "Thank you."
The older smiled down at her. "Don't sweat it. I'm glad you're happy." He paused for another moment. "We could mess with the wardrobe stuff for a while if you want. I think they got new stuff in."
"Hell yeah," Paislie said, her smile only getting bigger as the two headed towards the heavy black door.
-----------------
Paislie couldn't remember being this sick since she'd been resurrected.
She'd been instructed on what to do, told to use her inhaler more liberally if she felt like she needed to, and gotten certain medicines recommended to her- half of which the mall didn't even have.
But even the best that could be done short of getting reset wouldn't help if you literally couldn't breathe in the first place.
She let out a hoarse cough, to which every muscle in her body gave a protesting ache.
This was pathetic, she thought to herself. She was seventeen, far more than old enough to take care of herself, and yet she'd gotten herself so sick she couldn't even talk. Or work up the energy to move, she added bitterly.
And of course there was a meeting today.
Her eyes opened slightly as that last piece of information occurred to her. She tried remembering what day today even was, but her brain didn't cooperate.
So she figured she'd go back to sleep and hope by the time she woke up she'd be able to at least move.
She closed her eyes. She couldn't tell how fast time was passing or what she was dreaming, what was real, or what she'd made up in her Benadryl-addled mind.
When Paislie finally heard her door open, she rolled over to slightly open her eyes.
Randy was at the door (but hadn't he been here earlier?), and glanced around the messy room. He hesitated for a moment to take in the sight of her under a pile of blankets and entirely wiped out by whichever medicine she'd taken last.
She categorized her last memory of Randy being in her room to give her water under "Benadryl Hallucinations" and moved to sit up.
"Jeez," Randy said quietly. "You know, if you needed me, I could've been here. I've been around sick people before."
Paislie coughed into her elbow. "It's okay. Just needed to rest is all."
Randy nodded. "If you say so."
He was quiet for another moment.
"Had any water yet?"
Aside from her half-awake dream state, she didn't think she'd seen any around. The last water she'd had was maybe when she had her medicine.
"Can't remember," she admitted. "What time 's it?"
"Around six. Hang on, I'll be right back."
The room fell silent, and Paislie laid back down. She'd missed the meeting, but at least she wasn't alone now.
If her brain didn't feel like a mud puddle she'd probably be beyond pissed at herself right now, but she could deal with that later, ahe supposed.
A moment later, Randy reappeared with various items in his arms- almost enough that he could barely keep from dropping anything.
"Do you know when you last had any kinda fever reducer?" he asked, beginning to gingerly place down water, a thermometer, and a thousand other things Paislie was too lazy to keep track of.
She nodded. "Haven't been up since this morning. Should be fine."
"Good to hear. Let's check this thing, yeah?"
He held the thermometer out to her. "You wanna do it, or do you want me to?"
"I got it," she said, taking it and frowning at the buttons before she figured it out.
It beeped after a moment, and Randy bent over to glance at the number.
"Could be worse. If the fever reducers don't work though, we'll go get you reset, okay?"
Paislie looked up sharply. "It's not that bad-"
"I didn't mean it like that, hey." He knelt down to get on her level at the side of the bed. "It's nothing serious, alright? It wouldn't hurt. They'd just fix you up and it would be done. It's not like getting revived."
She didn't look at him, instead staring at her hands.
"Okay." Randy stood back up, glancing over at the nightstand. "We're gonna keep that from happening anyway."
Paislie coughed again, and Randy had to keep himself from wincing. She sounded awful, and whatever Amrita had tried to explain to Randy about why her lungs never healed properly probably wasn't helping.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Mhmm. Hurts a little," she answered.
He gave a sympathetic hum. "Sounds like it. Do you feel like your inhaler would help?"
Paislie shook her head, and he replied with a nod. "That's okay," he told her, offering her a glass of water and a fever reducer. "Sit up for me? After this, you can go back to sleep," he promised.
She did so, offering no resistance. It reminded Randy of Charlie at her age, though he quickly shoved that thought away.
Less than a moment later, the medicine had been taken, and Paislie was laying back down again with a thin blanket on top of her in a feeble attempt to keep her chills from getting too bad.
Randy looked at the loose braid he'd put in her short hair. Henrik hadn't taught him how to braid until recently, but he figured it would suffice until Paislie woke up and needed to head out of her room.
"Get some rest, Lee," he told her. "I'll go so you can sleep. I'll be back around tenish. Sound good?"
Paislie nodded. She didn't know how to feel about- most of it, really. She was beyond thankful for Randy and Henrik. Maybe it was just a matter of getting used to the whole idea of being taken care of by someone who wasn't half her age and size.
Maybe, on this side of dying, not everything would be bad about Showfall. Maybe she could dare to hope that the people here, kidnapped like her, wouldn't be like most people she'd known in the world outside.
-----------------
Randy for the most part knew how to raise a kid, if he did say so himself.
At least, two kids who would stay together and didn't leave a certain space. And who didn't cry as much as a girl would.
Paislie had been a whole different story from either Sneeg or Charlie. At seventeen, she'd learned to hate the world, she'd learned the type of grief that was feral and angry and protective of whatever was left of the people she loved.
Not that that was in and of itself terribly different from his own kids, but with it came a distrust of anything else. Including himself, since she hadn't been here nearly as long as Sneeg and Charlie had.
So of course the first time Randy caught Paislie crying on her own, she'd backed away with a look in her eyes like a caged animal that was giving up.
So Randy sat with her.
After raising Sneeg, that was the only thing he could think to do. Get on her level and wait.
And to an extent- it worked.
He could've picked a better place than the cold cement floor of the warehouse to get on her level, he realized extremely belatedly as the sobbing, exhausted teenager finally sat beside him for comfort.
Randy still didn't make a move to get up until she finally wiped her eyes for the last time fifteen minutes later.
"Better?"
"Dunno yet," the teary voice that didn't sound like Paislie said.
He thought for a moment. "How about you wash up, get ready for bed and all, and I can send Amrita or somebody in to make sure you're okay-"
"Can we have a guitar lesson?" Paislie butted in.
Randy looked over at her.
In all honesty, the kid looked like she needed anything but a guitar lesson. An ibuprofen, maybe, for the migraine she'd probably given herself from crying, and then a fucking nap.
"Yeah," he found himself saying anyway. "Go on. I'll be there in a couple minutes, okay?"
And she nodded back, the smallest of smiles showing up on her face before she hauled herself up off the floor.
She headed in the direction of her room, and Randy just as quickly found himself in Henrik's.
Henrik raised an eyebrow when Randy picked up his guitar.
"It's for Paislie," Randy explained. "Kid's having a rough time. Didn't say with what."
"I figured," Henrik answered quietly.
He moved to pick up Randy's small bag of guitar picks and other things he'd forgotten the names of and handed it to his husband.
Their hands stayed linked together for a second, Henrik looking down at Randy's callused fingers.
Randy offered a smile in return. "I'll be back soon," he said before gently letting Henrik's hand go and heading back out the door.
By the time he knocked on Paislie's door, the girl had gotten into pajamas and gotten out her own beat-up guitar, sitting on the side of her bed to watch Randy as he played.
And so she did. The songs she knew, she tremulously sang and/or played along to, and the ones she didn't she would lean against her bedframe to listen to while Randy played the chords.
Randy's prediction hadn't been far off, either. Within the first six songs, Paislie's eyes were closing.
Randy hadn't even noticed it until her hands began loosening around her guitar.
He gently put his own guitar down, gently taking hers to its stand.
"Okay. There we go," he said, turning back to her.
Paislie moved to lay down without being told, and Randy put his guitar strap over his shoulder.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"Yeah," Randy said in reply. It was as gentle as it was genuine. "'Night, kiddo."
"Mhmm. 'Night."
Randy was almost a hundred percent sure she'd fallen asleep before he had even finished closing the door on his way out.
-----------------
Paislie didn't know the kid who had been brought in very well.
All she'd learned so far was that her name was Arcadia, she was around ten years old, and that nobody could figure out how to get her to talk to them. For anything.
So she made it her mission to try.
She'd practically raised her four siblings, and August had been almost Arcadia's age. She could figure it out.
Paislie picked up her guitar, some snacks she'd stolen from the kitchen, and some random art supplies she'd found in a closet somewhere.
And with that, moments later, she'd found herself at the door of the newly renovated room that had been assigned to Arcadia.
She quietly knocked.
The room was silent.
Paislie glanced around the hallway, looking for any other room that had maybe been redone and maybe she hadn't noticed-
Until the door squeaked just barely open and the little girl appeared in the small opening.
"Hi," Paislie offered softly in greeting, not making any move towards the door for fear of scaring Arcadia off. "Heard you got here a little bit ago. I thought I'd come say hi. My name's Paislie, by the way."
The dark haired girl didn't answer, but she hadn't closed the door yet either. Sort of a win.
"I brought us some stuff we could do," Paislie tried again. "I have some coloring books. Wanna see?"
Arcadia looked doubtful, but still eyed Paislie's backpack curiously.
It was only a moment later that she slowly opened the door to let Paislie in, sitting on the floor beside her bed and motioning for Paislie to do the same from where she was across the room.
And so she did.
Paislie spent the next four minutes just talking to Arcadia. Showing her everything she'd brought to play with, briefly mentioning the guitar, and making subtle attempts at a genuine conversation with the other girl.
Paislie's answer came nearly an hour later. Arcadia had taken well to the coloring book Paislie brought, and even better to hearing Paislie pluck out a few songs she'd learned from Randy over the past almost year.
She'd been playing a lullaby and humming along when she heard the girl's voice alongside her own for a split second, as though Arcadia were worried she'd been too loud. When Paislie didn't outwardly react, Arcadia continued, if somewhat quieter.
Paislie would have smiled if it wouldn't have startled Arcadia all over again.
So she only sat, playing the song all the way through as well as she remembered it.
"Alright," she said softly afterwards, "I've got work. I can leave everything here if you'd like, though. Be back tonight if I get the chance and you'd like me to."
Arcadia nodded, the quietest of smiles on her face.
And Paislie smiled back.
Hopefully this kid wouldn't have to deal with Showfall putting her in shows, she found herself already thinking. She didn't bother trying not to hate Showfall.
If she couldn't protect anyone before, she could at least make every effort to protect Arcadia.
She could at least try to make sure Arcadia never regretted opening that door for Paislie.
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