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icedroppedinparasolcider · 5 months

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Momoi Airi is a Trans Woman

This is headcanon at the end of the day and there's nothing wrong with disagreeing, but the way she's written regarding her sense of identity as an idol, the choice of phrasing they use when she talks about herself in reference to others (namely Shizuku), and the connections her visual motifs provide to concepts and other characters tied to or commonly seen as trans just makes it incredibly hard for me to view her otherwise.

A lot of what I have to say is very personal to me; I'm a trans woman myself, and Airi's writing and experiences connect with me and my own transition journey in a way I haven't really seen anywhere else in media (I'm not a very prolific media consumer). So it's entirely possible a lot of this is just me projecting onto a character I care a lot about. But while I've adored Airi before this revelation, I didn't reach the level of attachment I have for her until the realisation of just how well she's written through the lens of a trans girl. Specifically one who's, for the most part, entirely socially transitioned but keeping the fact she is trans secret.

When Airi was little, she was, as she herself describes, very boyish. She'd get into physical fights with boys around the neighbourhood or at school, she'd come home most days covered in dirt and mud from playing with her majority boy friend group of the time. She was intensely defensive of her little sister, most of her fights being with possibly bigger-than-her boys because they were mean to her sister. It formed a reputation for Airi, a reputation that followed her as she began to deviate from these patterns and pivot her interests and activities hard and fast thanks to starting to watch idols on TV. She was enamoured with them, would rewatch recordings of their performances and interviews over and over so she could emulate it and be more like them. She'd stop getting into fights, stop playing with her rougher friends; everything started changing dramatically thanks to her being introduced to a new "type" of woman: an idol. Something Airi wanted to become, and was willing to change everything about her to be.

These changes weren't socially easy for her, though, with backlash coming from these old friends and classmates because of how girly she was trying to become. The idea of being a tomboy was something Airi started to consider a bad thing, a gross thing. During her Colourful Festival side-story, To You Who Yearns To Be an Idol, amidst a conversation with her younger self Airi calls the little girl a tomboy, something that makes the younger Airi immediately deflate and shy away from the conversation. It upset her to be called that, especially by an idol, something she wants to become. Which leads to the younger Airi talking about how she's been treated by her peers for changing the way she dresses and not playing the same way she used to, for changing the way she talks, with her being talked to like she's doing something horrible and wrong for simply chasing a dream of who she wants to be. And in this conversation, Airi says a particular line that changed everything for me:

This is said in response to Little Airi's repeating of what the boys in her class call her as she wears cuter, girly clothes. That she's some big, mean monster who shouldn't wear things like that, who could never become an idol. Effectively telling her that she could never be a girl because of the way she used to behave. She started as someone rough, someone harsh and dirty, that's not something she should—not something she could—change. Something we see in present day that she's largely internalised through her struggles with what it means to be an idol, her struggles with calling herself an idol.

For Airi, being an Idol and being a Girl have become synonymous with each other. Her ability to be an idol, to draw that attention, have a smile that sparkles on stage and in front of the camera, spread hope and joy to other people; this part of her identity has grown beyond her job, it's who she is as an individual. Being Momoi Airi, the second year Miyajo student, is inseparable from Momoi Airi, the ex-QT member and now member of MORE MORE JUMP! And if she can't be the image of an idol that exists in her head, that she's always viewed idols to be, that Haruka and Shizuku manage to embody, that Minori is becoming, then can Airi even really call herself as much of a person, of a woman, as them?

Airi's been in this constant uphill battle where she believes she doesn't sparkle as much as the other idols around her, so she puts more effort into learning how to make herself sparkle, but manages to convince herself that because she struggles with this, she's less of an idol than those very peers. It's in large part what Ice Drop is about, Airi's difficulty finding satisfaction with her work as an idol because it doesn't shape up to her own expectations and beliefs of what an idol "should be", because it doesn't match what she sees other idols she looks up to, like Shizuku, doing. Something also portrayed during Airi's conversation with Shizuku in Chasing the Radiance Beyond the Blue Sky, where she outright tells Shizuku that because she doesn't have the same physical appeal she has to fight harder and use different strategies to get any attention as an idol. And if Shizuku is the "perfect idol", and Airi will never be able to achieve that, can she even call herself an idol?

If she can't call herself an idol, does she even deserve to call herself a girl? Or are the harsh words of her grade school classmates right about whether she should be wearing the cutesy clothes?

A large part of Airi's struggle with this, why it's even a spiral in the first place, ties into her nature as a Solid Heart student as well as why I see so much of myself and my transfemme journey in Airi's story. It doesn't matter how many people tell you that you're enough and that you've done what you set out to do, not if every thought in your head is telling you they're wrong. According to everyone I know, I pass really well as a girl. My voice is naturally feminine, even without masking it very hard, I've basically never been misgendered since growing my hair out by strangers looking at me, I've even been told by close friends that they'll forget I'm trans because I'm just "one of the girls" to so many of them. And I appreciate all of it, so much; I'm very lucky to have had such a smooth social transition. But none of that changes who I see in the mirror, who I hear when I talk, what I feel when I wake up in the morning forced to acknowledge my body. I'll never be a "real girl", not until I fix these things, and it's entirely possible that it's impossible to truly get rid of this feeling.

That's what Airi feels regarding her identity as an idol. Everyone in the world could tell her how good an idol she is, how much hope she spread as Happy Everyday, how beautiful and bright her smile is. But that will never replace or fully mask the doubt in the back of her head about whether she's really an idol, because nothing that she used to do aligns with what she's always seen idols to be, so much of what she does today is so different from the reality of her dreams. She's not that idol, so is she even an idol at all? I'm not that girl, so am I even a girl at all? Obviously I am, and obviously she is, but it's a feeling of doubt that never goes away.

Airi needs to constantly be an idol, or she's not an idol at all. And, at least to me, this has come to mean to Airi that if she's not an idol, she's not a girl. Because all of the work she put into being cute and girly was to be an idol. If she can't accomplish that, does she even deserve to be a girl at all? Or is she just a fraud wearing a mask trying to make people laugh on TV?

#pjsk #project sekai #airi momoi #character analysis #transgender #i have so much more to say #but it's getting late and this feels like a good stopping point #i'll probably add more when she invades my brain again #momoi airi......

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gojobait · 10 months

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the sister of giulia cecchettin, the 105th victim of feminicide in italy just this year, is being target by incels and regular misogynists alike and called "a witch" because she is speaking out against the systemic killing of women as a direct result of the patriarchy. Because she allegedly likes metal music and she is enraged that her sister was killed by her ex, she is called a witch and a satanist. Men are spreading theories on twitter that she casted a spell on him because he was Such A Nice Guy and couldnt possibly have killed giulia of his own free will. Because she went on tv to state very clearly that he was Not a monster, because monstrosity implies a deviation from the norm, and unfortunately killing women in italy IS the norm. People are being so incredibly vile towards a grieving young woman, claiming shes doing it just for clout, after she and her family have been living for weeks with cameras forced into their home. Im so fucking pissed.

I dont know how many times ive seen the phrase "better in jail than in a grave" and its so fucking scary and disheartening that women have to resort to this, to want to teach this to their own daughters (which they should btw. Better in jail than in a grave) because every person in power refuses to do a single thing about it. other than blabbering about chemical castration or death penalty, of course. which, of course, would solve jack shit and it would probably actually just make men even more violent

#italy tag #idk how to tag this and i dont even know if i should tag this w anything tbh

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agaypanic · 4 months

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How about a rodrick x fem reader where she's a preppy girl but goes through a change and becomes a punk rock girl. And Rodrick had already noticed her before but now he's really into because they match aesthetics and she's really into rock music now

New Music (Rodrick Heffley X Jefferson!Reader)

Masterlist

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Summary: While having to watch your and Rodrick’s younger brothers, he makes a little jab at you about how you only play boring classical music. You challenge this notion by learning a rock piece.

A/N: i could make a part two, bc by the time i was done writing i realized i kinda deviated from the request, whoops… inspired by metal lords and some of the rodrick asks i answered about rodrick x rowley’s older sister (specifically this one)

***

You were used to routines. You liked structure. Every day, you’d have breakfast with your family, take your brother Rowley to his school before going to your own, go to class, pick Rowley up, do homework and thirty minutes of practicing music, have dinner with your family and catch up with each other, then go to bed. Of course, every day differed the slightest bit, and you’d make sure you weren’t constantly overworking yourself, but that was the main gist of it.

And a few times a week, you had to watch after Rowley when he hung out with his best friend, Greg Heffley. And when his mom was forcing him to spend time with his brother, Rodrick had to watch after the boys with you.

More often than not, you’d either be at the Heffley house or a public place like a park or arcade. Very rarely though, you’d all go to your house.

Today was one of those days.

“Okay, don’t do that.” You said, trying to keep the frustration out of your tone as you snatched a fork away from Rodrick while he tried putting some food in your microwave. “My dad doesn’t even like Greg being here sometimes. He’d probably hate your whole family if you burned our house down.”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, slamming the microwave door shut and rolling his eyes. “Oh my god, relax. I would’ve stopped the microwave after the first few sparks.”

You sighed, gripping the fork tightly. You’d think that after years of knowing Rodrick, you’d be used to his behavior. “Look, Rodrick. We already have to look after two little kids; I don’t wanna have to look after three.” Then you handed Rodrick his fork and walked over to the living room, hoping the oldest Heffley could handle himself and his lunch without causing too much trouble.

Rowley and Greg were sitting on the couch, deeply invested in some video game. Your parents didn’t like you and your brother having too much screen time, but you figured another hour or so wouldn’t hurt. You looked at the clock on the wall and realized you hadn’t touched your cello all day.

“Hey, I’m gonna go practice so…” You looked back toward the kitchen, thinking of calling Rodrick over. But instead, you shook your head and looked at the boys again. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Wait!” Rowley paused the game, ignoring Greg’s annoyed reaction. “Can you practice in here? I like that new song you’re doing.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, Row-Row. I’ll be right back.”

As you ran up to your room to fetch your things, you faintly heard Greg say, “Row-Row?”

You came back to the living room with your cello, sheet music, and music stand. As you set up, Greg looked at Rowley questioningly. “She’s really good, Greg.” He said reassuringly. “It’ll be like nice background music.” Greg just shrugged, unpausing the game and going back to playing.

You quickly became immersed in your music, somehow tuning out your little brother and his friend yelling at the TV and Rodrick loudly munching on his food as he looked at your music from over your shoulder.

He was polite enough to swallow his food and wait until you were finished playing to speak. “That was boring.” You rolled your eyes and rearranged the papers on your stand to play a new song. “You could play anything, and you decide to play music by dead guys.”

“Well, you don’t have to listen to it, Rodrick.” You hissed. “I’d ask what you think would be better, but I don’t really care for your opinion on music.”

You started playing again, hoping that it would push Rodrick away. But instead, he got closer. “I bet you wouldn’t be able to handle my type of music, goody-two-shoes.” You scowled, trying to not hit Rodrick with your bow.

“You could spend a year practicing a piece, and I would still play it better if I was sight reading.” You inched closer, making intense eye contact with the Heffley boy.

“Challenge accepted.”

***

Later that week, while picking up Rowley from school, he said that Rodrick told Greg to tell him to tell you to bring your cello to the Heffley house that afternoon. Part of you wanted to say you had more important things to do, but simultaneously, you were curious to see what Rodrick was up to.

“Black Sabbath?” You read the top of the sheet music Rodrick gave you as soon as you and Rowley walked into the Heffley house. “War Pigs… like the Pig War?”

Rodrick narrowed his eyes at you and furrowed his brows. “What?” Before you could answer, he held his hand up in front of your face. “Don’t. Come on.” Then Rodrick grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the garage, leaving your little brothers to most likely wreak havoc.

You rarely came into the Heffley’s garage. Whenever Rodrick was in there with his friends, it was beyond loud and chaotic. Totally not your scene. So you were a bit relieved to see that besides Rodrick’s drums and decorations, the room was empty. He grabbed a chair and set it near his drums, and only then did he realize that he was still holding your wrist. Rodrick quickly let go and grabbed his drumsticks, warming up on his drums while you set up your stand and tuned your cello.

“What exactly are we doing right now?” You asked while tightening your bow.

“We’re about to see if you can handle my type of music, princess.” Rodrick twirled the sticks between his fingers, giving you a smirk that forced you to take a deep breath and stare at your new music so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “There’s a bunch of stuff before your part starts, so just go when you’re ready. I know where to jump in. And the song’s like eight minutes long, so we’ll only do the first two pages.”

“Eight minutes?”

“Just play, Jefferson.”

You sighed, giving the page a quick once over before setting your bow on the string. You tapped your foot to the tempo written above the first measure, internalizing it for a few seconds before playing the first notes. Rodrick immediately followed by tapping on one of his cymbals. Being classically trained and not interested in this kind of music, you had no idea what each little piece of Rodrick’s set was called.

But as the two of you kept playing, the sound started to grow on you. There was something about the mix of strings and percussion that pleased you. The music relaxed you in a way, despite some of the big note jumps.

By the time you reached the second page, you were a bit disappointed that it was over. Rodrick silenced one of his big cymbals with his hand, seeming slightly impressed. “...Not bad.”

You nodded along, loosening your bow. “So… what does Black Sabbath sound like?”

Rodrick perked up at your question. After staring at you for a few seconds, he almost fell down with how quickly he got out of his seat to go over to his CD collection. You set your bow on the stand and leaned against your cello, watching him curiously. Eventually, he plucked out a CD and put it into a player connected to a large speaker.

As War Pigs started to play, you realized it was very different from how it sounded when you and Rodrick played. When the song got to the part Rodrick had given you, you started to pizzicato along. Unknown to you, Rodrick watched you intently.

You were both surprised that you listened to the almost eight-minute-long song without asking for it to be turned off. You quietly played along the whole time, tapping your foot in tempo. When the next song on the track played, Rodrick paused the CD, figuring you had had enough. “Not bad.” You said, which surprised him. “...I think I like our version more, though.” That surprised Rodrick even more.

He laughed a little, slightly amused. He walked over to where you were sitting, crouching down to make eye contact with you. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go all rock now, goody-goody.” You thought he looked a bit hopeful as he said it. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“In your dreams, Heffley.”

***

“Oh my gosh.” Rodrick gasped dramatically as he opened the front door. “What are you wearing?”

“Shut up, Rodrick.” You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at him as you pushed Rowley to go into the house first. Once again, you lugged your cello with you. “It’s just a black dress; I’m not going all emo like you.”

“I’m not emo.” He muttered, shutting the door after you entered. “What’s with the guitar?”

“Cello.” You corrected. “I learned all of that song you gave me. Wanna play it?”

Rodrick looked at you, a bit surprised. “Uhh, yeah, sure. Follow me.” You did as told, walking close behind as he led you back to the garage. “So, you like Black Sabbath now?”

“It’s just an interesting piece.” That wasn’t a lie, but it definitely didn’t tell the whole truth. After going home from that first playing session with Rodrick, you decided to look more into the band. Your search led to their other albums, and then other similar bands. Some of the songs you heard were a bit much, in your opinion, but you really liked some of the others you heard. “And, I guess playing with you is fun, or whatever.”

Rodrick’s back still faced you, so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. The chair he had pulled out for you the first time you played together was still in its spot, like he didn’t want to move it.

The two of you got situated and quickly started playing. You were a lot better than the first time, but then again, that was a sight reading. When doing your daily half hour of practice, you added an extra ten just for the song Rodrick gave you. You didn’t know why you were so fixated on it, but it was fun to play, which you suppose was all that really mattered.

You ended up getting through the whole song with Rodrick. About seven minutes of uninterrupted playing, so in sync with him despite only practicing together once.

“That was pretty good,” Rodrick said, popping his knuckles. He watched silently for a moment as you plucked through a couple measures before giving a mischievous grin. “I think I’m slowly corrupting you and that nerdy, good girl image of yours. One day, you’ll be wearing chunky eyeliner and listening to Metallica.”

You shook your head, giving Rodrick an unimpressed look. “Shut up.” Yet the thought of that sure did sound interesting.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

#agaypanic #rodrick heffley x reader #doawk rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #doawk x reader #metal lords

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milfzatannaz · 5 months

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vertigo canon can be split into two groups: anything related to swamp thing, and Everything Else.

you see in the 1980s Alan Moore had a stint on swamp thing that pretty much changed comics forever. in issue 37 he introduced this asshole Sting knockoff named John Constantine, which led to his solo book Hellblazer. Neil Gaiman, in his 20s with little comic writing experience and no divorces yet, wanted to write Hellblazer but Jaime Delano was already hired. Keep in mind that he was being mentored by Moore and So Karen Berger (our lord and savior) was like, what else do you want to write? And Mr Gaiman, young and embarrassingly nerdy, was like. Oh maybe I’ll write something to do with the obscure DC character the Sandman. And well, by 1989, history was made. (Other good pre-Vertigo Gaiman comics are Black Orchid and the Books of Magic). We have Swamp Thing to thank for the birth of a lot of these groundbreaking stories.

In 1993 Berger was tasked with creating a sister label to DC that would house more adult oriented material that would deviate a bit from the standard cape comic. This became Vertigo Comics, and the first comic published by them was Death: The High Cost of Living. During this stretch of the 90s and 2000s, the shared sandman and Hellblazer canon (which is really just swamp thing’s world and we’re living in it) produced multiple spinoffs and related titles like Deadboy Detectives, The Trenchcoat Brigade, The Children’s Crusade, multiple volumes and spinoffs for Books of Magic, The Dreaming, Death: The Time of Your Life, and even miniseries for minor characters like Bast and Thessaly.

Everything Else includes titles like Preacher, Animal Man, Shade: The Changing Man, Transmetropolitan, and Moore’s other trademark works like Watchmen and V for Vendetta were published under Vertigo.

I think ppl don’t rlly get how impactful this era of comics history is. We wouldn’t have multiple movies and TV shows without it, and a lot of what was written during that time period is still used in modern DC storylines. Vertigo rlly is that bitch when it comes to iconic comics!!!!!!!!!!

#vertigo comics #millie reads comics

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myezblog · 4 months

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Ming's Character

It is apparent how difficult it is to bring out a character on TV vs in a book.

Just sharing a few things about Ming's character that may help people interpret his character better. No spoilers.

*******

Independent Ming -> He is not some pampered good for nothing with a huge ego. When he was abroad, he used to live alone, cook for himself and basically knew how to take care of himself and his home...This is relevant as to why he allows Joe to do things for him... cooking, cleaning, a feeling of a home... its not that he can't do it or doesn't get it at his home... but because the emotions Joe ignites in him are special

2. Not a non sensitive git -> this is a big deviation in drama from the book. From ep 1, in drama, Ming appears to be someone who is still eyeing Tong despite him being his sister's boyfriend. In the book, he didn't do that. He actually went abroad to avoid both his being gay confrontations and being near Tong and his sister (because he knew it is wrong and didn't want to create any trouble for his sister)

Him being gay is definitely a problem with his family. But other than that we don't really see anything else.

3. Toxic love in 2.0 .. not really .. Even the guy who hates Ming (Sol) the most acknowledges and knows that Ming's love for ML (Joe) transcends even his own ... everyone in the book world knows that and don't have even an iota of a doubt..

Its just that they are still angry about what happened in 1.0 .. but then all of them have been a witness to Ming's sufferings and attitude in those 2 years and know better

4. Toxic obsession.. NOT REALLY.. with respect to ep 4, he is not in that home because of some powerplay. Without spoiling, his feelings are very pure, very sorted at this point .. not some crazy obsession.. more like latching onto this 1 single hope that exists.. which everyone else has given up on.. and in the book you can read how every day of holding onto that single thread of hope took a toll on him

5. He does not give up... In the book too, one thing with Mind is that ( i guess this is the part of rich priviledged background).. he keeps repeating that he always has what he wants...

Now he says that always in context fo Joe.. because we have seen him not even try for Tong though he wanted Tong, or try in his career or whatever... but just ML (Joe) everytime he tries to get away from Ming

6. Lastly, there is no trauma going on with Ming in the book.. BUT THAT he has truly ever been in love with just 1 person since he was 16... ONLY ONE PERSON... he has sought sxual releases when he was abroad etc.. but just loved that one person... and that one person is also responsible for his sxual awakening... and it is not Tong

He has loved the back.. whoever has the back is his true love.. is the one who fuels his sxual fantasies everytime... he does not imaging Tong when having sx.. but rather fantasies with respect to that back.. its just that in his mind the back is Tong's

#my stand in #my stand in the series #joe x ming #ming x joe #poom phuripan #up poompat

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mycherrycola · 15 days

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Finally binged Lumpy Touch's Where's Waldo? shorts series and it's so well done! Guy really knows how to work within the vertical format. I'll never get over how people can animate 8bit and make it look so legit. I also didn't realize it was still updating so that's really cool! I look forward to seeing the rest of the parts as they come out.

Since it is a mystery story I'll say that the rest of my thoughts are all spoilers *✧･ﾟ

SOOO I love tiny pixel Waldo he's so baby <3 even if he is a heartless murderer <3 I also love how greasy and lanky he is, he's so gross.

Also Lumpy was so right for making Wenda the Detective's wife because I too have always wanted to be the main character who is married to Wenda (forever cursing the og tv series for giving her ONE EPISODE and then relegating her to straight-to-vhs releases only). Also cursing Lumpy for delivering the news that I am in fact married to Wenda at the same time he announces that she is dead. How could you do this to me personally, Lumpy? But anyway that makes Waldo the Detective's brother in law, right? She would've been his sister if we go based on the fact that her last name was Waldini too. (for the record I always imagined that they were just a group of friends who bonded over the fact that they wear similar clothes LOL)

Let's see what else. Oh yeah. Five Waldos? Skill issue. I could take them.

My favorite frame was in the park where tiny little pixel Waldo was sitting on the bench

The details in all the backgrounds and all the little moving parts were so cool and fun to look at

I really want Odlaw to make an appearance somehow. Not necessarily as a polar opposite of how he is in the tv show, or as a cohort with Waldo. I'm sure Lumpy could think of an interesting way to incorporate him in a more unique way

Those are all my thoughts so far! I might draw a nasty cursed little Waldo if I can bring myself to deviate from the pure portrayal I've established in my head hehe

#lumpy touch #where's waldo #where's waldo?#where's wally?#where's wally #the artist's files

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writingmochi · 10 months

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a terra incognita character introduction

cast: jake ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: as the world entered the middle of the 21st century, many things have changed for the better or for worse in the newly united korea peninsula: the preparation for the succession of the new conglomerates of the past decade, the uprising of deviant androids, and the new layer of life shield by walls of codes. in the middle of it, two beings are trying to understand each other and the situation of the world they live in; an unknown territory

genre: cyberpunk, cyber noir, psychological thriller, science fiction, dystopian future, politics and philosophies regarding artificial intelligence and humanity, romance, drama, angst, mature content (war and revolution, explicit smut)

based on: video game cyberpunk 2077 (2020) and detroit: become human (2018), anime serial experiments lain (1998), and tv show succession (2018-2023)

masterlist

from north seoul

(y/n)

aliases: Error 403: Forbidden

age: 20

species: human

gender: female

family: mom (deceased), dad (deceased), leon (uncle; alive), mara (aunt; deceased), kai (cousin; alive), bahiyyih (cousin; alive)

affiliation: the rebellion, deviant androids

backstory: Error 403: Forbidden

leon

aliases: the mechanic

age: 49

species: human

gender: male

family: mara (wife; deceased), kai (son; alive), bahiyyih (daughter; alive), (y/n)'s dad (brother; deceased), (y/n)'s mom (sister-in-law; deceased), (y/n) (niece; alive)

affiliation: deviant androids

backstory: a mechanic specializing in electronics and automotive, he changes his ways after the family incident of 2035 and is given the responsibility to take care of his niece, (y/n). he adopted two deviant androids, kai and bahiyyih, and now specializes in android repairs and modification

kai

aliases: HG200 #202 448 140

species: android (HG200)

gender: male

family: leon (father; alive), mara (mother; deceased), bahiyyih (sister; alive), (y/n)'s dad (uncle; deceased), (y/n)'s mom (aunt; deceased), (y/n) (cousin; alive)

affiliation: the rebellion, deviant androids

backstory: dubbed the "dream brother", HG200 is part of the HG series known as the "siblings series". kai, a name he chose after being deviant, used to be a part of a family of abusive parents and their daughter who has autism with the android who is now bahiyyih. by defending the daughter from ongoing attacks, kai deviates from his original path then were scrap to the junkyard, being saved and adopted by leon where they searched for bahiyyih

bahiyyih

aliases: HG400 #462 777 207

species: android (HG400)

gender: female

family: leon (father; alive), mara (mother; deceased), kai (brother; alive), (y/n)'s dad (uncle; deceased), (y/n)'s mom (aunt; deceased), (y/n) (cousin; alive)

affiliation: the rebellion, deviant androids

backstory: dubbed the "dream sister", HG400 is part of the HG series known as the "siblings series". bahiyyih, a name she kept after how much she liked the meaning, used to be a part of a family of abusive parents and their daughter who has autism with the android who is now kai. by helping said daughter from abuse by alerting emergency services, bahiyyih deviates from her original path and escaped to live in an abandoned building before being saved and adopted by leon with kai

taglist: @raeyunshm @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @reallysmolrenjun @frukkoneeeeg

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfiction #jake x reader #rsc: t.i.#cr: jake #cs: enhypen #sc: regina

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satanicspeaks · 9 months

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Been seeing reviews of The Expanse books where people comment on how slow the books are, that it’s a slog to get to the plot arcs. And while yeah definitely it takes it time, i personally enjoy it.

Each book introduces new POV and slowly puts plot pieces together. I’m used to slow burns and books like Gideon the Ninth where things slow ramp up until it all falls apart in quick succession. The POV’s are a great choice too with how the books utilise them, it’s always the most significant characters and I haven’t felt like a POV was adding nothing to the books (except for in book 1 when I didn’t understand the format so ignored all that didn’t interest me)

Book spoilers from here for the books Abaddon’s Gate & Nemesis Games

Abaddon’s Gate is one of my favourite’s for how it does this. We meet Clarissa who makes sense in the context she’s in, she links back to her sister nicely, her family is known and by slowly exploring who she is we don’t feel the POV swaps in the main arc are sudden or odd.

Same with Anna, we get to know her, how she feels, how she acts in situations before you drop the mother of all crises on her.

Holden is well known at this point and his POV gives us familiarity, we love him as a character and know the crew he’s in so we still hold that emotional connection to them as the other POV’s develop. Because it’s hard to care about a character that’s new (this is why I have some major criticisms of Fourth Wing as a book, it wants us to care about how protagonist is feeling about a character we met two paragraphs ago, it feels empty and shallow)

By having a slow set up it also allows for a shit tone of points to use in the plot climaxes. Like oh that thing that was mentioned in chapter 2? Yeah it’s important. Those important things are masked by an info dump of sci-fi and each characters own interests so we as the reader don’t see what’s important straight away. But we know by now that this is the format the books will take.

That’s also why Nemsis Games and its deviation from what we expect with POV is important. Oh? We got used to new POVs and the crew being all together? Well this time we’ll only give you the crew’s POV! They’re familiar but this time you now fundamentally know how they think, removing Holden’s bias.

I’m once again info dumping about the book series, don’t worry I’m not stopping. I’m up to Babylon’s Ashes, so three books to go. Five seasons of the TV series to go. Let’s see if I can do this in less than two months 🫡

#the expanse #Abaddon’s gate #nemesis games #tag: the expanse #satanic speaks #james s.a corey

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starlitcorgi · 7 months

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Hi......If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hmmm 🤔 my favs are always changing but at the moment.

1. Gokurakugai: Alma is a precious cinnamon roll who loves his mentor Miss Tao like a sister. I really love their platonic relationship and the fact that Alma is incredibly emotionally balanced. Like he's not this typical macho guy. Probably because he's surrounded by strong female role models. It's really refreshing for Shonen and I really hope it gets an anime series because I think it has the potential to be as big as JJK and Demon Slayer.

2. Jujutsu Kaisen: I love Yuuji as a ML and I'm usually a side character gal. So it's great to actually like the lead character. I've noticed in this current generation of Manga and Anime that our Male Leads are becoming much more well rounded and likeable. I love Yuuji's strength and his resilience, he definitely deserves all the love and hugs. I also of course love Gojo and I kind of hope Mappa deviates from the manga in regards to his fate because man that hurt.

3. Demon Slayer: I read the manga start to finish and loved every minute of it. The anime series is just as good. I love all of the characters in this in their own rights. From the protagonist to the villains for me at least the author got everything right. It's Shonen at its best. To be able to make your audience love Rengoku in such a short time is an amazing feat. To care so much that you feel as devastated as Tanjiro to me the Mugen train arc is a masterclass in story telling. It's sad that the series will be coming to an end soon but I think for me this will always be in my top 5.

4. Ghost in the Shell: This is the movie that started my love of anime/manga. It's a cinematic masterpiece and everyone should watch it at least once. It was well ahead of its time and it's not surprising that it inspired the Matrix.

5. Hells Paradise: I love the manga and the anime. Gabimaru is so relatable to me, I think we share the same sarcastic and apathetic nature lol. I love it as well because it gave us one of the best disabled characters in current manga generation. Shion is an epic character for the disabled community, being partially blind myself it's nice to be represented you know? And he's not full of loathing or self pity, he embraces his blindness and uses it to his advantage. He's funny, kind, strong and handsome. He never questions Sagiri's competence, he doesn't try to send her of to the kitchen like his colleagues. He recognises her talent and encourages her to achieve her goals. In short Shion needs to be protected at all costs.

6. Chainsaw Man: when I first saw this pop up on Shonen Jump I didn't have high hopes. It seemed like a crack series but this is exactly why you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. I love this series even though it hurts me 😭. Denji is a typical hormonal teen, power is a ball of chaos and Aki is just trying to keep everything together. Plus Angel 😇 is one of my fav characters of all time maybe because he reminds me of my daughter lol.

7. Elfen Lied: this is another classic anime the violence is on par with AOT but once you get past that you have this heart wrenching story. Lucy is a monster created by her environment and the abuse she suffered. This is also one of the most beautifully animated series of all time. The art is phenomenal.

8. Solo Leveling: I fell in love with the Manwha and was so excited when it got picked up for a series. I'm loving the anime so far, though I'm two episodes behind. Due to my sight loss I have to wait for the English dub but dubs have gotten way better than when I first started watching anime in the early 2000's. I love Jinwoo's tenacity and the fact that he just cuts through the villains. He never really worries about whether that makes him a bad person. Sometimes you just want to see bad people get what's coming to them. Plus this has some of the most epic fight scenes, I can't wait to see them animated.

9. Tokyo Ghoul: I spent most of Tokyo Ghoul crying ugly tears 😭. Ken Keneki has one of the most heartbreaking storylines in all of anime. It's just painful to read/watch Gege definitely took a leaf out of the Tokyo ghoul book when writing JJK. Yet still I couldn't put it down, I'm a sucker for punishment. It's a great mix of characters as well, I love that we see goth culture mixed in there as well. You do get those Crow vibes the way it's so gothic in inspiration and the art work is stunning. I think the only illustrator that tops it is Yuta Sano.

10. Attack on Titan: AOT has been deemed controversial because of it's fascist themes. However I think it's only problematic if you think Eren is the hero in this story. I actually really can't stand Eren, it's pretty obvious that he's been radicalised by his experiences early on. The foreshadowing is strong with him you know he's not going to turn out well from the start. The real protagonists for me are Armin, Levi and Hange. Like these three are definitely trying to save their comrades and people. Whereas Mikasa is constantly having to save Eren and Eren jumps to mass genocide pretty quick. Levi almost feels like he's representing the audience with his snarky commentary. I also love Levi and Hanges platonic friendship. They really get each other and their banter is a joy to watch especially in the first season.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #demon slayer #anime and manga #manga #gokurakugai #tokyo ghoul #ghost in the shell #elfen lied #attack on titan #hells paradise #solo leveling #chainsaw man

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sage-nebula · 6 months

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It occurred to me that I could just use Splatoon 3's native character creator to make my OCs, a.k.a. my versions of each of the agents (which are based on the canon versions but deviate based on my own experiences with the story modes), so that's what I've done. I also created a little bio template to give a brief overview for each one, before giving a longer bio in text for anyone who is interested in them.

So! If you are interested, please head below the cut to learn about Captain Cora "I was sent in to single-handedly eliminate a bunch of octarians when I was 14 in actual war and I did it but I didn't fully understand what I signed up to do at first and ended up horrified by my actions and severely traumatized and put off war & war games forever but I still want to try to change things from the inside to make the world better and atone for my actions from when I was 14" Sepio.

Cora lived a pretty normal, and honestly privileged, life until the age of fourteen. She lived outside of the city, sure, but it was because her parents made enough money to have a custom built home out in the countryside among beautiful scenery where they could avoid the hustle and bustle of the city and enjoy all sorts of comforts while other people actually took care of said scenery they were enjoying. Cora never really wanted for anything, except for the city life that her favorite CDs and magazines came from, the ones where her favorite shows and movies were produced from. So when she turned fourteen, she packed her things and hopped on a train and left her privileged life behind. (Albeit with a credit card that her parents could top off at any time. Again, privileged.)

Cora was thrilled to get to the city. She didn't have a set plan for what to do once she got there, although she was excited to participate in turf war and had dreams of becoming an idol herself. You see, Cora didn't always hate war games; like many inklings, she found turf war to be exciting to watch and wanted to participate, and she headed straight for Ammo Knights as soon as she arrived to see what she could get. She had her heart set on an Aerospray RG, and got it as soon as she could; she named it "Ol' Faithful" immediately, even though it wasn't old at all, being brand new. That didn't matter much to Cora; calling it Ol' Faithful made it (and by extension, her) sound cool. She was living her TV dreams.

With her parents money, she got a nice little apartment. She won turf war battles. She was glued to the TV every time the Squid Sisters were on Inkopolis News and she practiced dance routines and her singing in her apartment. She was living her dreams.

And then one day, shortly after the Squid Sisters reported that the Great Zapfish had been stolen, a strange old man caught Cora's eye and beckoned her down a sewer grate.

The man was Cap'n Cuttlefish, and he led Cora into Octo Valley. Cap'n Cuttlefish explained to to Cora that the Great Zapfish (as well as all the little Zapfish) had been stolen by the Octarians, and that only the Squidbeak Splatoon could fight them. But the Squidbeak Splatoon was gone except for him, and he was too old . . . but that was where she came in. She could do it! She had The Look in her eye. He knew she could do it. Cora was pretty good at turf, if she said so herself, and the Zapfish being missing was a big deal. Both Callie and Marie had seemed pretty sure of that. And Cuttlefish needed help, and Cora wasn't one to deny someone help. So she agreed, suited up, and headed into the canyon.

But here was the problem: Cuttlefish hadn't lied. But his perspective was a biased one. The deeper Cora went into the canyon, the more suffering she saw. The domes were falling apart. The Octarians didn't have enough electricity to maintain them, so they hadn't stolen the Zapfish out of malice, but out of necessity. And the Octarians weren't just Octotroopers and other strange beings -- there were Octolings, too, no different from Cora, and the Squid Sisters. They spoke a different language, sure, but they were people. And they were suffering. They were living underground, in suffering conditions, while Cora and so many other Inklings were living a privileged life above, and here Cora was, invading their home and destroying them and what little they head, ripping away what little hope they had away from them, just because some old man told her to, when she didn't even have the full story, when she just agreed without a second thought . . .

She beat DJ Octavio, and got the Great Zapfish back. She got to meet her heroes, Callie and Marie, Agents 1 and 2 respectively. And then they put DJ Octavio in a tiny, cramped snow globe for his crimes.

It was the most grotesque thing Cora had ever seen in her fourteen years of life. Callie and Marie seemed to find it hilarious. So did Cuttlefish, mocking his adversary. Octavio could barely move inside it, though. Cora went home that night, but she couldn't sleep. She could vomit, and she did, but she couldn't sleep. So the next night, she returned to the valley, and when she was sure Cuttlefish wasn't around, she deactivated the snow globe and opened it.

"GYAHAHA! What's this? You want an encore?" DJ Octavio boomed.

"No! And keep your voice down!" Cora looked over her shoulder, but the door to the cabin didn't open. "I just -- it wasn't right, where they were keeping you. So I'm letting you go."

DJ Octavio snorted. "The Great Zapfish Caper Remix feat. the Renegade Agent, is that it?"

"No." Cora did her best to glare, even as her palms broke out in a cold sweat. "Leave the Zapfish alone. We need it, too. We can find another way to fix the energy crisis in the can--"

"We?" Octavio loosed another booming laugh, and Cora winced. "The Squidbeak Splatoon cares about the Octarians now? Best joke I've heard in a century!"

"I do. So I'm asking you, as a favor for me letting you go -- don't steal the Zapfish again. Okay? And I -- I'll try . . . I'll try to make things better in return."

Octavio shook as though holding back laughter. But finally, he said, "All right, little revolutionary. I won't steal the Great Zapfish. You have my word on that. I won't steal the Zapfish. Now get going! It's past your bedtime!"

Booming another earth rumbling laugh, Octavio zoomed back into the canyon. And, comforted at least by the thought that she wouldn't be responsible for the Zapfish going missing again, Cora made her way back to her apartment.

But freeing Octavio didn't fix her. She still had a hard time falling asleep, and staying asleep when she did; disjointed, broken nightmares of fighting Octarians haunted her, exploding tentacles flying everywhere as she mowed them down in wave after wave. Her appetite was fleeting, and it was hard to get herself to swallow when she tried to force it down. Many days she felt too tired to get out of bed, and as consequence she would at times go weeks between showers. Ol' Faithful sat gathering dust in the corner, along with her CDs, her dance clothes, and the TV. During Splatfests, she covered her head with her pillows to try to block out the sound of the Squid Sisters performing in the plaza.

The worst part, Cora thought, was that she didn't know how she could keep her promise to Octavio. How could she fix it? She didn't know the first thing about how to bring electricity to the canyon. She didn't know anything about electrical engineering. She doubted Cuttlefish or the Squid Sisters would listen to her about letting the Octarians up from the canyon, either; when she'd so much as suggested they not keep Octavio in the snow globe, they'd insisted imprisoning him was necessary. (And they were furious that he'd been let out, and though she'd said it wasn't her, she was a poor liar she could tell they knew it. She also couldn't muster the will to feel bad or scared that they knew. She couldn't muster the will to feel much of anything nowadays, except ill and exhausted.)

Time passed like this for about two years. Two years of doing the bare minimum to keep herself going. Two years of not leaving her apartment very much, only to get groceries from the 24-hour convenience mart down the street. Two years of talking to her parents just enough so they wouldn't demand she come home, and avoiding calls from everyone else.

But then the new hosts of Inkopolis News -- Off the Hook, Cora thought they were called -- reported that the Great Zapfish had gone missing again, along with Callie from the Squid Sisters. And then Cora's phone rang.

"No," Cora told Cuttlefish. "I can't. I won't -- I can't go back there. Not again."

"Marie is handling the Zapfish situation for now," Cuttlefish said, his voice placating. "She has a new recruit. There's actually something unrelated I'd like your assistance with investigating, if you'd be so kind."

A new recruit. Cora's mouth tasted sour, and not just because she hadn't brushed her teeth in three days. Was the new recruit another fourteen year old kid? Was the new recruit only given half the story, not told the situation they were being thrown into, the suffering people they were attacking?

"I'm worried some people might be hurting," Cuttlefish added.

Cora sat up on her bed, and ran her dry tongue along her sticky teeth. Her mouth really did feel like cotton.

"Tell me what it is first," she said.

Cuttlefish told her that there were people who had disappeared around the Octo Canyon area. He didn't want her to fight anyone, he said -- he wasn't asking her to go to war against the Octarians or anything. But he just wanted to see if they could find any missing people. He added that fresh air was good for the heart and lungs, and also the mind, and that exercise like walking released endorphins, and that was where Cora interrupted him to say she'd be there before she hung up. She recognized an excuse to get her out of her apartment when she heard one. And part of her wanted to blow him off out of spite. But if there were people missing, she couldn't leave them. So she took a shower. She brushed her teeth. She threw a cape she'd found sitting out by someone's garbage over her clothes since the cape was clean and her clothes were not, grabbed Ol' Faithful, and headed out to meet Cuttlefish by, but not in, the Canyon.

He was ecstatic to see her. She couldn't say the same, but she mustered a little lip twitch that she thought maybe could pass for a smile. He rambled on about how Marie and Callie had been doing in their solo careers, and how Callie was currently missing but he was sure she was fine, just off on one of her "whimsies", and other such topics. Cora only half listened. It was actually nice, being outside and exploring the canyon. It actually made her feel a little angry, that he was right that the fresh air was nice. Who was he to be right about that?

But there wasn't much time to ruminate on it. As they rounded the corner, an Octoling agent ambushed them. Cuttlefish started barking orders, but though she had brought her weapon just in case, Cora wasn't there to fight. But the Octoling, seeing her weapon, thought otherwise; the Octoling had an Octoshot of her own, and before Cora could drop her gun the Octoling had raised her own, and Cora had no choice but to defend herself.

As fortune would have it, their battle didn't last long; something else attacked them and dragged them down, down, down, deep beneath the sea, and into a subway system.

Despite the horrors that befell Cora in the Deepsea Metro -- specifically having part of her head sliced open and filled with ooze that stripped her of her free will until she got her head cracked open a second time so the ooze could be poured out so the sanitization didn't take effect -- overall, the experience was a positive one for her. During her time away from Cuttlefish, Cora learned about the the Metro and Kamabo Co.; she learned that there were residents of the Deepsea that used the Metro as one would use a normal subway, but also that Kamabo Co. sanitized octolings, ran experiments on them, used them and oppressed them while they were helpless to do anything about it. That they had been languishing beneath the sea, with no one to help them, all this time.

It was horrible. It made her feel the same sense of horrible despair and sick that she had felt in Octo Valley. But she was there now, in the Deep Sea Metro. She was there, not to wage war, but to investigate. To do something. And then she got a distress signal, from someone else who was also trying to help . . . and she did do something. She destroyed the blender, and she saved the Octoling's -- Agent 8's -- life, along with Cuttlefish's.

When she woke up among Cuttlefish, Agent 8, Pearl, and Marina . . . though she was wounded, though she had technically gone through more trauma . . . for the first time in two years, Cora felt hope. She had made a positive difference this time. Not as much of one as Agent 8 had, to be fair, but she had still helped. She hadn't hurt anyone this time, at least, not under her own intention and willpower. She hadn't been the same monster she had been two years ago. She had done something good. She had done something right. And she could do it again.

Cora returned home. It took several days, but she got all of the trash out of her apartment, did all of her laundry, cleaned all the filth. When her apartment was in order, and she was showered and in clean clothes, she went to the Inkopolis Square studio to thank Marina and Pearl for all they'd done, and to introduce herself properly.

"Yo, no need to thank us. We live here, too! Last thing we need is for this place to get blown out," Pearl said.

"I'm just glad we were able to make it in time," Marina agreed. "You were pretty timely with your help, too! Without you, Eight and Cuttlefish wouldn't have made it out of the blender."

Cora did her best to smile. "Thank you. I still really appreciate what you did. And I hope, if anything like that ever happens again . . ."

"We're not gonna let the world end." Pearl winked, and clicked her tongue with finger guns at Cora. "Count on it."

With Pearl and Marina's support (and friendship) secured, Cora made her way back to Cuttlefish. She officially reenlisted with the Squidbeak Splatoon, though on the condition that they recalibrate their goals.

"The Great Turf War ended a long time ago. But there are people suffering here and now, people who need our help. The people in the Deepsea Metro, and Octolings who want a better life. We should focus on helping them, not hurting. If there's a situation where there's no choice but to fight, fine -- but we shouldn't have that be our first choice. We should aim to help, not hurt."

To his credit, Cuttlefish was on board. Working with Marina and Agent 8 had opened his eyes. Unfortunately, while Cuttlefish and Callie were on board, and Marie was willing to let things go either way, there was a new member with a strong opinion.

"That is the lamest shit I have ever heard in my life," Agent 4 said, not even bothering to look at Cora as she juggled her dualies effortlessly in the air. "No wonder you got kicked off the squad."

"I didn't get kicked off; I quit," Cora ground out.

Agent 4 snorted a laugh. "Sure, Three."

Regardless of Agent 4's objections, Cuttlefish approved the plan. And when it became apparent that Cora and Reed (for that was Agent 4's real name) could not be in the same space for more than three minutes without a fight starting, endeavors were made to keep them apart as much as possible. (Endeavors were also made for Cora and Marie to spend little time together, albeit these endeavors were never acknowledged; Marie had lost respect for Cora after Cora freed DJ Octavio, and Cora lost respect for Marie for Marie's attitude toward the Octarians. Their relationship never recovered, particularly since they are both the stubborn, grudge holding type.)

For the next five years, Cora worked hard to assist Octolings who wanted to move to Inkopolis. She reached out to her parents for help, and her parents -- ecstatic to hear life in Cora's voice for the first time in years -- helped fund a night school in Inkopolis to help Octolings learn the Inkling language, to help them take to life on the surface more quickly. Cora also set up a partnership with Ammo Knights to use Shel-drones to send supplies to fixing the infrastructure down to the Canyon and Valley, for those who wished to stay there instead, under agreement with Octavio that he wouldn't just use the supplies to wreak havoc on Inkopolis.

"There are Octolings living here now, too," Cora told him. "You wouldn't want to hurt them, right?"

Octavio laughed. "Loosen up, little revolutionary. I'm not gonna spin up any war crimes right now. I kept my word before, didn't I?"

Cora scowled. "You took the Zapfish again. You waited two years, but --"

"No, I didn't," Octavio said. "I took Callie, and she took the Zapfish. It's different, see?" Another booming laugh erupted from him at the look on Cora's face. "Pay attention to the words people say, little revolutionary! Words are important!"

"I'm not 'little.' I'm eighteen years old --"

"And I'm over one hundred. You're little."

And so it went. It wasn't perfect. It felt like there was always more to do. But for five years, Cora felt as though she was putting good in the world. And that was reason for her to get up each day, for her to shower and brush her teeth, for her to be able to eat. It didn't fix everything -- she still had to take sleeping medication if she wanted to sleep peacefully, she saw a therapist twice a week, and on Marina's advice she retired Ol' Faithful for a brella instead, because a more defensive weapon made her feel less reluctant and guilty to use it than a shooter type did -- but it helped.

Shortly after she turned 21, Cuttlefish retired and named her the new captain.

"You've the one who's changed this whole outfit for the better!" he said. "If anyone deserves to be captain, it's you."

"Plus Callie and Marie are too busy, right?"

"Well . . ." Cuttlefish stroked his chin sheepishly. "Mostly it's the thing I said."

Of course, things didn't progress without their hiccups. The Great Zapfish went missing for the third time, and Cuttlefish jumped to blaming Octavio for breaking the treaty. Likewise, when Octavio's octotroopers went missing at the same time, he blamed Cuttlefish for simultaneously breaking the treaty. And all of this landed Cora, the Squid Sisters, and a new agent Cuttlefish had recruited -- the new Agent 3, now that Cora was captain, and older than both Cora and Reed had been when they were recruited, a request Cora herself had made to Cuttlefish years earlier -- exploring the depths of Alterna. In the end, Cuttlefish was dried out, but they stopped Mr. Grizz from transmogrifying everyone into mammals, so it was at least a net good for the Squidbeak Splatoon, in Cora's opinion.

(Though the fact that Grizzco continued to operate even after Mr Grizz's demise . . . that was something to deal with another time, particularly since taking down Grizzco meant going through Reed. And while Reed was everything Cora hated bundled into a single person, she was also a one squid army. Cora was no slouch, but Reed was hazard level max.)

There was always more work to be done. And some days were still much harder than others. Seven years had passed since her initial crusade into Octo Canyon, and yet Cora still had to consciously try to smile. But she was doing better. She was doing so much better, one day at a time. Sitting in her comfy clothes, in her clean apartment, with her headphones on watching music videos and enjoying a big bowl of chocolate ice cream after a long day of hard work as Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, helping those who needed it any way she could.

This is peace for her.

#splatoon #agent 3 #captain 3 #splatoon oc #cora sepio #splatoon 1 #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #since it goes through all of them #like i said i based my OCs based on how each of the story modes made me feel #and the Splatoon 1 story mode made me feel that the octarians were the victims and i was a monster lmao #so that's reflected in Cora's severe trauma #Reed is also traumatized but she goes another way with it #much more about that in her own bio post tho

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hopetorun · 1 year

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Anon here, I was just telling you which scene instantly comes to mind, and it's that scene! Although, I would not be against you doing either a DVD commentary or POV switch, because again, love that scene haha!

oh my god i totally forgot i did that other meme! how embarrassing 😩

here's a dvd commentary, though, for being lovely ❤️

Cammie offered them a box, but Matthew argued for seats in the stands. [prior to this season especially i had noticed how seldom the tkachuks got luxury boxes at games -- obvs the playoffs stuff last year, but also keith and chantal's trip to nashville where matthew got his 99th point in 2022, and my long-ago memories of watching keith watch matthew at world juniors] He’s taking Draisaitl at his word on that whatever, and distantly hoping that Cammie doesn’t narc on him. It’s more fun to be in the stands. Boxes are nice and everything but you’re not really part of the crowd unless there’s enough people to fill up the seats. Besides, this way they might even be able to talk to other people.

Also, being in the stands makes it harder for them to be filmed the whole time. Instead, Cammie makes them swear to take pictures that they can turn over to her afterward. They’ll probably have their faces on the jumbotron too, Blues forwards Leon Draisaitl and Matthew Tkachuk. Whatever, Matthew’s used to that. He’s not here to hide. [this might be lie. matthew wants it to be true, though. it ought to be true]

Before the game, they meet a few of the players, and get shown around the stadium with Cammie and someone else from the front office—Yusuf, maybe, he didn’t introduce himself—following them with a camera.

For once, they mostly talk to Draisaitl. He’s surprisingly chatty, especially once they get him talking about soccer instead of how he’s settling in here in St. Louis. Cammie’s good at this; she gets him talking about his favorite memories of going to games in Germany. He’s never been to a soccer game in North America, apparently, though Edmonton has a second division team. He doesn’t get to go to as many games in Germany as he used to, because soccer’s a winter sport there and he’s usually in North America. He tells a couple of cute stories about going to games as a kid that Matthew gets the feeling he’s shared before. [a couple things here -- establishing that leon's behavior toward matthew is a deviation from the norm and that he's being a good sport with the team, and also matthew paying enough attention to him to clock that he's telling some of his go-to childhood stories]

He can feel himself incorporating this story about Draisaitl being punished for fighting with his sister by not being allowed to watch soccer on TV for a whole month—and the evident tantrum that he threw about it—into his idea of Draisaitl’s personality. And not only the story, the way he tells it too: the smile when he talks about his sister, the way he laughs when he talks about how upset he was, the grin when Cammie asks whether it worked and he says “absolutely not.” [Maybe They're Not So Different After All. on a more practical note i did just want to make leon seem appealing and pleasant enough that it wasn't like, why does matthew even like this dick]

She asks Matthew a couple of questions about the team (he has to politely elide that he doesn’t really pay attention to them), whether he’s been to any games before (a couple), what he thinks someone needs to do to really get to know the city (the Cards game, a trip to Forest Park, maybe he’ll do the Anheuser-Busch tour soon). “So Leon’s making good progress,” she says, and Matthew’s smile only feels a little forced.

And then it’s time for them to find their seats.

On the ice, Matthew finds it easy to ignore that Draisaitl is the kind of hot that makes people around him a little stupid sometimes. Tall and nicely proportioned, a jawline that hasn’t suffered at all as he’s aged. On the ice, he’s always been a competitor, and that supersedes anything else.

Right now, though, Draisaitl’s just the guy sitting next to him at a soccer game, wearing a plain black t-shirt and what Matthew’s pretty sure is the same Blues cap he was wearing at the Cards game. The jawline that he can ignore on the ice is highlighted nicely by a short beard that he didn’t have last week. Matthew thinks, for half a moment before shoving it aside, about beard burn. [i always feel like i don't spend enough time in my writing letting people be physically attracted to each other, which mostly is what it is but with this particular ship (and in this particular story), where so much of the foundation rests on for some reason they started fucking a lot, it feels important to reiterate that matthew thinks leon is hot]

“Where are you staying?” Matthew asks, because they have to talk about something or he’s going to keep staring.

Draisaitl frowns. “The team got me an apartment for now. It’s near the baseball stadium. I guess I’ll find somewhere of my own soon.” [my st louis accuracy reader going through this stuff like, okay so here's what's plausible for the story in terms of location]

“Not a hotel?” Matthew asks, and Draisaitl shrugs.

“I need more space for my dog.”

Matthew raises both eyebrows. “I’m not leaving my dog at a kennel for that long,” Draisaitl says. [speaking of plausible for the story ... this isn't at all, except i wanted him there for the specific summer vibes and it's a fanfiction yolo whatever]

“Makes sense.” Matthew doesn’t make the words hit quite as smoothly as he hoped. The problem with Draisaitl is that he’s as good at needling Matthew as Matthew is at needling him. [the main reason i'm here at all]

There’s an uptick in the action—Matthew can feel the crowd really tuning in to the game again, the kind of thing you miss if you’re sectioned off privately—and Draisaitl leans forward in his seat. He hisses when one of the St. Louis players tees up for a great opportunity and totally whiffs it, the ball rolling between his legs. Once the ball’s been cleared, Draisaitl sits back, and Matthew clocks the exact moment he realizes Matthew was watching him. [there's SO much watching each other through the beginning of this story, because they're both trying to figure out what the other one's game is]

Draisaitl shrugs, arranging his body into a pose that’s clearly meant to convey disinterest. [through a lot of the beginning of this story, and especially this scene, leon is kind of simultaneously looking for proof that matthew is a dick so he can be a dick in return AND proof that matthew agreeing to be on the same team means that actually maybe there's still something there between them. so far his data is mixed]

“It’s a fun game,” Matthew says. He can be polite.

“I didn’t think you were a fan.” Draisaitl’s words are clipped. [he was listening, earlier]

Matthew tips his head, conceding the point. “I’ve watched some games. My sister played soccer for a while.”

He’s got a scarf wadded in his lap that he stole from Taryn, actually. That’s the thing for soccer games, apparently, but it’s hot as balls and his neck got itchy under it after about 10 minutes out of the air conditioning. Draisaitl glances at it, a look on his face like he might say something, and then he turns back toward the field, clearly watching intently. [leon, considering making more polite conversation and then deciding he's not going to try that hard]

They’re quiet for a while after that. It’s a lot less awkward than it would have been to be silent walking around the Arch. Matthew cheers when the home team scores, a beautiful goal arcing into the net from outside the box. Draisaitl claps politely. It makes Matthew want to laugh, for no reason that he can articulate.

“Not a fan yet?” he asks. Draisaitl shakes his head, even the movement conveying a flat expression.

“I already have a team,” he says. Which—fine. Matthew didn’t give up the Cards when he was spending most of his time in Calgary, though it wasn’t like Calgary had a baseball team competing for his affections. “Besides,” Draisaitl adds, “I clapped.”

This is the first sporting event Matthew’s ever been to with Leon Draisaitl that they weren’t both participating in, and he does have to admit that it’s hard for him to picture Draisaitl cheering at anything but his own team’s successes.

Silence falls between them again.

After a few minutes, Matthew notices that something on the field is making Draisaitl clench his jaw as he watches, a tendon in his neck straining. Matthew knows the basics and has a solid grasp of games of passing and possession and goal-scoring, but the details of soccer have always passed him by. But Draisaitl’s clearly a big fan, that much was obvious from his conversation with Cammie earlier, and it’s hardly a surprise. [someone made a stupid play and leon is judging them for it]

If he didn’t look quite so focused, and grumpy, Matthew would ask him what’s pissed him off. Whatever it is, it passes because Draisaitl relaxes before the whistle blows to end the half.

They go get beers at half time. Draisaitl frowns at the selection available on tap, and Matthew tries to find a way to joke about it, but the truth of the matter is that it gets his hackles up. Anything he said wouldn’t come out teasing. Draisaitl chose to come here, or at least didn’t choose not to come here.

Draisaitl keeps on making a show of rolling his eyes and agonizing over the selection. He’s probably pissed off about American beer; it’s not like Matthew’s never heard it before. [here leon is being a little antagonizing on purpose. he's all over the place lmao, he wants matthew to like him again and he wants matthew to be a dick so that he has a reason to be a dick back, and he wants to go back in time and tell himself not to gamble on this particular series of events]

“There’s another place a little ways down,” Matthew says, too sharp. “If you want to see what they have in bottles.” He pauses, considers not being snide, but the look on Draisaitl’s face is too much for him. “They might even have some imports.”

“It’s fine,” Draisaitl says, and then he orders a St. Louis Lager. As they walk back to their seats, Matthew hears him mutter “Is everything in this city owned by Anheuser-Busch?” [i have actually never been to st louis but i grew up in a city/metro area of a similar size and when you have one enormous company that just names everything ... it's very striking]

Just because he’s right doesn’t mean he’s not also being a shithead. Also, he’s extremely good at being a shithead. [it's so important to me what a shithead leon can be] Matthew would know.

For a few moments earlier today, it was hard to remember why he used to swing his stick at Draisaitl’s ankles every opportunity he could get. But any time he’s tried to have a conversation today, Matthew’s found himself considering violence. [i didn't notice it through MULTIPLE editing passes but oh the use of today in consecutive sentences here grates now] He could stick his leg out right now and trip him. It would be easy; he’d probably eat it right in the middle of the concourse and spill his beer everywhere. And there’s no penalties for tripping someone who’s being a pain in the ass at a soccer game, except for getting yelled at by Cammie, and probably a half-dozen other people too. Well, and the whole locker room cancer reputation he’d probably get. [matthew as a person very clearly wants people to like him off the ice and wants to be A Good Team Guy but he's also such an effective pest on the ice, and i'm curious about how those urges play out off the ice]

So they both make it back to their seats untripped.

Right before the second half kicks off, their faces flash on the giant screen at the end of the field. Matthew watches himself wave, tries to keep himself from watching Draisaitl instead. They both look normal, at least, if bored. Matthew doesn’t even think it’s obvious that he’s considering if it would be worth spilling beer on Draisaitl.

As soon as the camera leaves them, he takes a long drink instead.

The second half gets off to a slow start, the players kicking the ball back and forth in the middle of the field, and Matthew finds his mind wandering. The seats are close enough together that his leg is nearly touching Draisaitl’s, skin dangerously close to skin since they’re both in shorts. Matthew forces himself to not think about being on his knees between Draisaitl’s thighs. [just constantly reminding myself to include physical attraction through this scene]

The Oilers got booted in the play-in, back when he and Draisaitl were briefly on whatever the hell the terms they were on then could be called, and Matthew was happier to see them go than he was sad to lose a sure thing—and after a frankly impressive three hook-ups in a week and a half, despite the restrictions, he was pretty sure Draisaitl counted as a sure thing. [just laying the groundwork for the future reveal of what their relationship could have been ...]

The final time he managed to sneak into the other hotel—when he was confident the Oilers were done but not quite ready gloat about it out loud—he fucked Draisaitl’s face while Draisaitl scrabbled at his thighs and hips. It was sloppy and bordering on too rough and all Matthew could bring himself to do was hope that the marks from Draisaitl’s fingernails would fade quickly, because like hell was he going to stop for that.

In a feat of inhuman strength, he pulled back a few seconds before he came. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he urged Draisaitl to roll over. He remembers that part clearly, scooting down the bed to be balanced over his thighs, the way Draisaitl’s cock was flushed dark and wet at the tip. “Come on,” Matthew said. “Come on, Leon, flip over.”

He also remembers the way Draisaitl’s first name felt in his mouth, his lips curling around the vowels. It wasn’t the first time he said it, but he didn’t say it much. [this isn't particularly insightful commentary but i love this bit. i held out on the actual nameswitch in the present for SO long but it was really fun to scatter through the flashbacks. a sprinkling of intimacy. seasoning the stew of matthew's emotions with it]

Draisaitl responded to it, let himself be coaxed onto his stomach. He hissed, probably his painful-looking erection getting pressed down into the bed. Matthew was presented with the smooth expanse of his back, a pleasant golden tan after the summer. Running a hand up Draisaitl’s back, Matthew said, “Can I jerk off on you?”

The noise Draisaitl made, low and rough, wasn’t very clearly a yes, but considering that he could have flipped back over and shoved Matthew off the bed, Matthew was willing to roll with it. Besides, Draisaitl was rocking his hips down against the mattress, tiny little gasps escaping him. Matthew dropped his full weight onto the back of Draisaitl’s thighs, effectively pinning him.

It made Draisaitl moan, loud and raw and incredibly hot. He managed to suppress the end of it, the sound abruptly cut off, but all of it was like fire in Matthew’s veins; the aborted noise, the aborted movements, the half-hearted resistance.

Matthew only managed a few strokes on his dick before he came all over Draisaitl’s back, making a mess of him. His teeth were digging into his lower lip to muffle the noises that wanted to escape him, and even so a punched-out gasp made its way out of his mouth as he came.

Draisaitl groaned, and Matthew thought he might have wanted to sound grossed out but he didn’t at all. Besides, he came like that, his hips working against the bed and Matthew’s come pooling in the dip of his spine. The bed was disgusting, after, and it remains to this day one of the hottest things Matthew has ever done. [honestly still extremely pleased with myself about this bit, i think it's really enjoyable messy hot horny stuff that both conveys the it really was just sex aspect but also the trust and intimacy especially of sex that isn't just super standard stuff]

When he got up to clean himself off, Matthew gave in to the urge to snap a picture of Draisaitl. He did ask Drasaitl if he could keep it—he’s not an asshole—and Draisaitl agreed only after Matthew showed him the folder that held the handful of pictures Draisaitl had sent over the last few months, password protected and inconspicuous. And he insisted on having a picture of his own, too.

Matthew obliged, arranging himself on the bed to Draisaitl’s specifications—back against the headboard, one knee up, a hand curled loose around the base of his dick. He was barely starting to get hard when Draisaitl snapped the picture. He remembers the way Draisaitl had looked at him, sharp and discerning. He remembers, way too clearly, the way Draisaitl said that if it weren’t for the rules, he would leave bruises all over Matthew’s pale skin.

He remembers the punched-out way he’d said Draisaitl’s name at that, “Leon,” again.

They fucked again that night, and Draisaitl sucked a mark into the inside of Matthew’s thigh, high enough that it actually did go unnoticed by his teammates. He also left one low on Matthew’s ribs, large and smudged enough that Matthew was able to pass it off as a hockey bruise. They didn’t usually kiss much, but they did that night, Draisaitl’s mouth almost painful against Matthew’s.

The locked folder of pictures on his phone did help a lot in getting him through the first round, and more than he’s ever going to admit for getting him through the concussion. The one, long since deleted, of Draisaitl lying facedown on the hotel bed, legs splayed, jizz streaked across his lower back, was a particular staple of late, miserable nights.

They never fucked again. Not after the way things ended. [not subtle but i think it works, lol]

Next to him, in the present, Draisaitl is fiddling with his empty beer cup, oblivious to Matthew’s thoughts. He’s already unrolled the rim, and now he’s starting to tear the cup into strips. The cup crumples loudly in his hands as he holds it steady, but the strips themselves tear quietly enough. It doesn’t look like the first time he’s done this. [he fidgets SO much. i also fidget a lot, so i assigned leon a thing i have done many times when i'm feeling fidgety]

Also, his hands are distractingly large. Matthew doesn’t want to be thinking about that, it’ll lead to thinking about what Draisaitl’s hands felt like wrapped around his hips or what Draisaitl’s fingers felt like inside of him.

After he’s torn the cup into strips, he starts tearing the strips themselves into narrower ones. They’re all still connected to the bottom of the cup, fanning out into a circle. It’s strangely fascinating. Eventually, he can’t tear the strips any smaller. Draisaitl drops his shredded cup onto the ground, and folds his hands in his lap. It lasts about 25 seconds, and then he starts jiggling his leg, jostling Matthew’s seat with the movement.

“Do you ever sit still?” Matthew hisses. Draisaitl makes a very annoyed noise. It emphatically doesn’t remind Matthew of any of the noises he used to make in bed. [he's lying, obviously]

Matthew focuses his attention back on the game. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Draisaitl pull his phone out of his pocket and start tapping away at it. Probably complaining about him, he thinks with a laugh he manages to stifle. The typing is a lot less annoying than the other stuff was, so at least there’s that. After a few seconds, he shoves his phone back into his pocket and then he manages to sit mostly still for the better part of five minutes, his eyes fixed on the game. Then, abruptly, he reaches for the scarf that’s once again balled up in Matthew’s lap. [anon, you mentioned this moment specifically in your original message and tbh i love it! the thing about all of this is that leon feels just as unsettled as matthew -- he doesn't understand why matthew signed with st louis if he hates leon so much, and he doesn't know why matthew stopped talking to him, and he kind of wants to needle matthew into doing something and showing his hand. but he also doesn't want to be a bad team guy and intentionally antagonize a teammate. so: weird stuff it is]

“Can I look at this?” he asks, but he’s already got it in his hands so it doesn’t really matter what Matthew says unless he’s willing to rip it out of Draisaitl’s grip.

“Sure,” he says, instead of you already are. Matthew deserves a fucking prize for being polite and congenial. Draisaitl’s definitely not trying this fucking hard. For one thing, he just snatched Taryn’s scarf out of Matthew’s lap and has started fiddling with it, looking at the logo, examining the pattern on both sides, and then picking at the fringe to untangle it. [also a thing i'll do when i'm feeling fidgety]

“That’s my sister’s,” Matthew says mildly. Draisaitl doesn’t stop pulling at the knots in the scarf fringe.

“You said she used to play?” he asks, his voice as carefully mild as Matthew’s was. Maybe he’s playing nice now; Matthew’s not used to that. [matthew ... try using your whole brain for a change]

Taryn at least is easy to talk about, at least, and pulls Matthew’s wandering mind away from memories of Draisaitl on his hotel bed. He nods. “Yeah, when she was a little kid. She comes to games here pretty often, I think.”

Draisaitl nods. “Have you been to any with her?”

“Just one. I’m mostly a baseball guy in the summers.” He pauses, tracks a play for a moment. The guy who was making the play loses possession, and he turns back to Draisaitl. “Guess I might go to a few more now.” [almost entirely unrelated to the whole leon situation, matthew is also still trying to wrap his head around how his life is going to change. he hasn't lived in st louis full time for a long time!]

“Does your sister live here?” Maybe Matthew needs to retract his mental accusation that Draisaitl isn’t trying.

“She does,” Matthew says, and he can’t help smiling. “It’ll be nice to see her more.”

“I bet,” Draisaitl says. He sounds different when he says it, his voice tighter, and Matthew thinks about everything he’s learned about Leon Draisaitl over the past decade, either on purpose or by accident.

“Is your sister in Germany?” Matthew asks. Draisaitl nods, but doesn’t say anything. Matthew doesn’t know what else to ask; do you miss her? is too personal. Do you miss your family? is even worse. He can’t imagine being across an ocean from his family for a whole season, much less for more than ten years. He can’t imagine Draisaitl wants to talk about that with him, either. [this is obviously a bit more of the maybe not so different after all, but it's also very much matthew trying to navigate finding the right level of intimacy and familiarity with leon, and how much he's allowed to ask and allowed to know]

They sit in silence again for a while, as the number on the game clock ticks steadily up. After a few minutes, Draisaitl drops the scarf back into Matthew’s lap. “Thanks,” he says. His voice is oddly rough.

“Are you planning to skate again soon?” Draisaitl asks, breaking the silence. It’s not a peace offering—Matthew doesn’t want a peace offering—but it is a suggestion that Draisaitl understands their relationship on the same terms as Matthew. They can tolerate each other well enough, under certain circumstances. [this is excruciating for both of them, but the skating was okay. they can relate to each other better on the ice]

“This week, probably,” Matthew says. Draisaitl nods, sharp, but there’s something promising in the curve of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but the corners of his mouth are tight like he’s fighting against one.

There’s not much else to say after that, really. A few terse comments on the game, a sharp nod from Draisaitl shortly before the final whistle. Matthew hadn’t taken him for the kind of guy to leave a game early, but Charlotte’s [why charlotte? because i'm from charlotte and we love an easter egg] up 3-1 and he’s hardly the first person to head for the exit.

Matthew stays until the bitter end, watches one more fruitless corner kick and doesn’t stand up until the final whistle sounds. On the drive home, he remembers that they were supposed to take pictures together. [i think the focus on handling the immediate awkwardness and navigating the relationship to the exclusion of doing team stuff works but this is mostly because i forgot to include it and realized during revisions]

#sorry this took so long anon! you sent me the ask and i immediately went on vacation lol #my fic #ask meme #fic by daisysusan #home by now

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pinkpalaceapartmcnts · 2 years

Note

🎤what songs remind you of edge?

🎥If you could make a movie/tv show for one of your fics which one would you chose?

🎤what songs remind you of edge?

psycho killer by the talking heads and vienna by billy joel, simply because they're mentioned in the fic. also edge by lucretia dalt, of course, and where is my mind by the pixies, fire by the pointer sisters, and one song that is really really indicative of part 3 jegulus, but is too spoilery for me to mention by name

🎥If you could make a movie/tv show for one of your fics which one would you chose?

edge :) tasohw is basically exactly like fleabag, so that already exists, but i'm deviating a lot from the killing eve plot for edge, so it would be fun to see my version as a tv show

#answers

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stuck-in-hawkins · 1 year

Text

Whoops. I thought I posted this forever ago…. It was in my drafts. We’ll, better late than never. Note: this was written before season four came out. Before I knew there was an ACTUAL haunted house in Hawkins soooooo small deviation from the canon. I hope you enjoy.

Summer 1983

The party stood in front of the old withering Victorian structure. Up close they could see there were still flecks of yellow paint from the last time the house had been occupied. But from far away (otherwise known as a safe distance) it had only ever looked gray.

Mike held the scrap of paper with the notes from their research. He was biting back his fear with determination. Lucas held onto his wrist rocket, less for the ghosts and more for whatever punks or junkies he thought might be hanging around inside. Dustin held onto the Fisher Price tape recorder they’d stolen from Erica’s room, hoping it would be enough to catch some concrete EVP.

Will stood rigid, holding the flashlight. Everything in him was screaming to turn around. Will had always been told by his mother not to “open that door”, that spirits and the supernatural shouldn’t be played with. Yet, here he was standing at the threshold of prime ghost territory. But he didn’t want to be a chicken. He didn’t want to let down Mike or the guys.

All summer they had been trying to dig up a real mystery. But nothing ever seemed to happen in Hawkins. They’d finally found a genuine haunted place. They had heard stories of people seeing someone stare outside the second story window. After weeks of asking around, separating fact from fiction, it lead them to a story with a year and a name attached. In scouring the library, Mike had found the original article detailing the tragedy. The house had once belonged to a woman named Eudora, who’s younger sister had died there when they were little of typhoid fever.

Now, they stood in the shadow of the house. They all had their gear but no one seemed willing to take the first step, meaning it was up to Mike. He went into leader mode and the others followed. Lucas sidled up next to Mike and held up his wrist rocket, ready for anything, or at least he faked it well enough and it made Mike feel a little braver.

Mike tried the handle. He turned back to the guys. “It’s locked…”

Dustin egged on, “We should try the window.”

Lucas countered, “That would definitely be breaking and entering.”

Dustin replied, “Not if the window’s open.”

Mike turned, “Are you serious?”

Lucas chimed in, “It’s still totally breaking and entering! If your window was open and someone came through-”

“That would be trespassing, not breaking and entering.”

While the three argued the definition of trespassing, Will felt something strange, like a memory. He envisioned a back door and, for some reason he could picture it being opened for a cat. He blinked, struck by the oddity of the spontaneous image.

It prompted him to ask, “Should we look for a back door?” Though he was still terrified, he felt a connection to the place. He had read over the article again and again about the girl. He felt so bad for the sister, she had been his age. He had wanted to know as much as the rest of the party.

The boys quietly snuck into the back yard, which was overgrown with weeds nearly as tall as they were. Will stopped in his tracks. It was the exact door he had imagined. He saw a cat lingering in the windowsill. The same one he’d seen. He hadn’t imagined it. It had been a vision. He felt a chill run down his spine.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Will said.

They all turned. Lucas asked, “What? Why?”

Will didn’t know how to describe what had just happened without seeming crazy. “There’s a cat inside. Someone lives here.” He pointed at the cat on the windowsill. But at that moment the cat was stretching and decided to hop down out of view.

They all looked at the empty window.

“It was just there!” Will defended, thinking, ‘Damnit, cat. Why?’

Mike looked back sympathetically. “You don’t have to go in, Will. We’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, the Byers Stubbornness struck. He didn’t want to be babied. He didn’t want to be left outside alone. And, if he was having visions of the house, that meant it really was haunted. He couldn’t let them go in without him.

He steeled himself. “I’m fine. If you guys go, I’m going.”

Mike turned the knob and, this time, it opened.

Will stated, “If the walls start to bleed, though, I’m out.”

Lucas said, “I think everybody can mutually agree on that.”

Dustin, “What if it’s dry blood?”

Mike answered, “Let’s just say if we see any blood, we don’t stick around.”

They all made their way inside the mud room. There were cracked black and white tiles coated with years of dirt and leaves that had blown in. The corners of the room were carpeted with thick clumps of dust and cobwebs. They were all silent, holding their breath, straining to listen for any sign of life.

They walked into the kitchen. The cabinets had been tagged with spray paint, initials, and curses were carved into the wood. They saw the counter lined with cigarette butts and bottles of booze of all different sizes. A wind whistled through the house and the boys suddenly realized just how quiet it was. They hoped that it meant they were the only ones there.

There was a small staircase in the kitchen. Lucas looked at Will and could tell he was scared. He whispered to Will in the hopes of distracting him, “Those smaller staircases used to be for servants to go up and down without being seen. There’s probably a larger staircase on the other side. It’s almost like a secret passageway.”

Will nodded, glad to hear a voice beside the whistle of the wind.

When they walked into the next room, they saw an assortment of things someone had left behind. A pair of shoes, blankets piled on the floor, and a crate next to it. They all stood perfectly still. Someone must have been sleeping there.

Dustin whispered, “We’ve got to leave before the hobo gets back.”

Lucas hissed, “I think he’s still here. Look at the shoes!”

But Mike got closer and noticed a layer of dust on the blankets. They hadn’t been moved in probably months. “I don’t think whoever was staying here has been back in a long time. Look at the dust.”

Lucas suddenly relaxed. “If anybody else was living here all that stuff would have been used.”

They all seemed less anxious now, except for Will. He was trying to keep himself warm but a cold shiver was running through him. Though it was a cooler day for summer, this felt different, like a damp, chill-your-bones-cold. Will wished he’d brought a jacket. He tried warming up his arms but the brief friction made no change.

“You okay, Will?” Mike asked.

“Yeah. Fine. Just a little chilly in here.”

Dustin lit up, “Cold spots!” He held out the mini microphone, swinging his arm in an arc and pressed the record button.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “You aren’t serious.”

Dustin retorted, “Does anyone else in this room feel cold? No. It’s like 70 degrees. That’s not cold. If Will is feeling a sudden drop in temperature, that’s the first indicator of paranormal activity.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Why am I the only one feeling it?”

Mike stepped closer to Will. “What does it feel like?”

Lucas jumped in, asking Will, “Did you eat before you got here?”

Will shrugged, stuttering. “I-I has a Pop Tart this morning…”

Lucas stated, “It’s been a while then. It’s his blood sugar not paranormal activity.”

Dustin argued, “If you are going to be a nay-sayer about everything, then why did you come?”

“I’m not being a nay-sayer. I’m being realistic. I’m here to keep you grounded.”

Mike asked Will again. “What does it feel like?”

“Just… like it’s cold. Not winter cold, but like damp March cold.”

Mike untied the old long sleeve shirt around his waist and handed it to Will. “Here.”

Will felt immense gratitude. Mike thought of everything and was always just a little more prepared than he needed to be. Will put on the shirt, feeling a little warmer and a little braver, too.

Dustin and Lucas were still arguing and Mike told them to cool it. They made their way up the main staircase in a line. Mike walked in front and Will followed close behind. He wanted to seem brave but as they walked up the large stairs, the fear returned in full force. The thick, heavy oak banister had twisted and curled, making it seem ominous. Parts of it had warped from water exposure. The plaster ceiling above was cracked and discolored. The stairs creaked and moved under their weight. Will thought for a moment that his foot was about to go through the wood and he gripped Mike’s arm. Mike looked back, concerned. Will suddenly felt like a baby.

“Sorry.” He dropped his hand. “Let’s just hurry, okay?”

Mike nodded, feeling sorry that Will was so scared. He quickened his pace. When they got to the top, there was a landing. It was like a balcony that overlooked the main room which then narrowed into a long hallway. Will looked down it and saw what looked like smoke coming out of one of the doors. He took a step closer and squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing and then he realized...

The smoke had a face.

Will shrieked and fell backwards onto the soaking carpet. He put his back to the wall, away from the hallway.

The boys crowded around. “What’s wrong, Will?” “What happened?” “What did you see?”

Will shook his head. They had to get out of there. They didn’t see it, but he did. They had to leave.

“Something came out of the room. It-it looked like smoke b-b-but… it had… it was...”

Lucas peeked down the hallway. “There’s no smoke.”

Dustin looked excitedly. “Maybe it was a wisp. An actual apparition!”

Mike was conflicted. He was supposed to be the leader, but he didn’t know what to do. Should he lead them on for the sake of the mission or have them turn back for the sake of Will? He realized it wasn’t really his decision to make.

“Lucas, Dustin. Come here for a second.” He brought them over to the other side of the landing. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was the best he could do without going down the potentially haunted hallway. He leaned in and the boys did, too. He whispered, “Will is really being affected by this house.”

Lucas said, sympathetically. “I think he’s just gotten himself worked up.”

Dustin, “I don’t think so. Obviously, he’s more sensitive to this stuff. He’s our canary in the coal mine! Like an EMF reader!”

Mike’s eyes narrowed, “Maybe. But what happens to the canaries when they go too deep? They die. Should we stay here or call it quits and come back later?”

While the boys were debating in whispers, Will was praying. It had been a long time for him. He had only been to church a few times when his grandmother had taken him. He didn’t remember the recited prayers so he was just asking, God, Grandpa, anybody to keep him and his friends safe. When he opened his eyes he thought his vision was blurry. He rubbed his eyes, and realized the same face that had been staring down the hallway was staring at him, only inches away from his face.

Fear had gripped his throat. He wanted to scream but could only shake. He felt a cold mist on his hand. It was holding him, and pulling him upward. He obeyed and stood, fearing what it would do if he resisted. It began to pull him toward the hallway. He turned to his friends, silently pleading for them to look, to know what was happening and intervene.

Mike looked up and saw Will looking more scared than he’d seen him in his entire life. “Will?”

The guys saw Will’s hand raised like it was being pulled.

Mike asked, “Will, what’s going on?”

“It’s pulling me.” His voice was barely audible.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed. He held the tape recorder closer to Will’s hand.

Lucas asked, “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Will was shaking his head. Mike looked down at the hallway. This was the coal mine. It could kill them all. He wrapped his arms around Will. “We’re not letting it take you anywhere, Will. We’re getting out of here.”

Dustin asked, “But what if it’s the girl? She might be trying to tell us something.”

Lucas put his arms around Will, too. “If you’re faking this, Will, I swear-”

Dustin followed suit and put an arm around Will, still keeping one arm extended with the recorder.

Will felt so much stronger with his friends holding onto him. He didn’t have to let it take him anywhere.

But suddenly the mist travelled up his arm and he felt consumed by it. It was closer than his friends were. He could feel desperation. And he had an awareness, whatever this thing was, it would take him whether he was moving his feet or she was.

She. He knew it was a girl. Will didn’t know how but he did.

He told the guys, “Let me go. I’ll be okay. Dustin’s right. I need to see what she’s trying to show me.”

Mike looked to the others. They all looked scared for Will. They let go but all followed and kept a hold on his shirt, just in case.

As they passed the rooms, the smell of mildew grew stronger, as did the humidity. The carpet was soaked and there were dark gray stains everywhere. The boys shared a mutual feeling of dread. Where were they being lead? What would they find? A dead body? A portal to hell? All the horror movies they had ever watched ran through their heads. Lucas suddenly recognized another smell that made him sick to his stomach. His grip on Will tightened.

Will didn’t know why but he didn’t feel quite so scared now. He could almost make her out. Long hair, now made of mist and fuzz, like the kind on a dandelion. She guided him to a room with a set of stairs: the servant’s staircase. He followed her down and back into the kitchen. The cat sat at the window again. He could feel the wisp leave his arm. The cat stood up and trilled. Then, it hopped down and walked outside. He knew to follow it.

They got outside into the grass and the cat stopped and looked back at them. Will looked around, puzzled. He asked, “What are you trying to show me?”

The cat looked disinterested, or perhaps judgemental.

Dustin asked, “She’s not pulling you anymore?”

Will shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

Mike suggested, “Maybe there’s something buried where the cat is.”

Lucas held up his arms, letting go of his grip on Will. “Can we not go grave digging?” He was freaked out. Beyond freaked out. “Especially considering we only narrowly escaped the dead body in there?”

They all turned, “WHAT?”

“Did you not notice that putrid smell in there? Something was dead and rotting!”

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Dustin held his head and started pacing.

Will looked at the cat. “She didn’t want us to see it.”

The cat meowed. They heard a low, moaning creak from inside the house. Then a sharp crack and part of the roof fell in. They all screamed and ran back to their bikes. They had never pedaled so fast in their lives.

When they got back to Mike’s, Dustin drilled Will for details. While Lucas told him to knock it off and Mike got Will some hot chocolate. It was too hot for it really. But it was the only thing he could think of to comfort Will. How did you comfort someone who just communicated with the dead?

As terrifying as it has all been, they decided as a group that they needed to tell the police. So Lucas, having the best adult accent out of all of them, called in an anonymous tip about someone squatting in that house and they waited.

Later that week, when they saw police lights and caution tape around the area, they parked their bikes there and tried to get any information they could from the neighbors, police, anyone willing to talk. They didn’t really get a straight answer until two days later, when it was printed in the paper.

The article told of a squatter who had been living in a house infested with black mold for months. It painted the story as a cautionary tale and talked about local services in the area that could prevent such damage to a home, to ensure the safety of the readers’ family. It called on the police to have a crack down on squatters and vagabonds and to remove dangerous abandoned homes like that.

But the boys dropped the newspaper in dissatisfaction. The writer had no idea or connection or care for the place.

Dustin sighed, “They didn’t even put in anything about the ghost.”

Mike raised his eyebrows, “I think the cops were a little preoccupied, with removing a dead body and all.”

Dustin sulked, “But what’s gonna happen to her? What happens after the house a ghost haunts is demolished? She’s gonna be stuck in that pile of rubble.”

Will looked over at Dustin. He had thought that the whole hunting ghosts thing was a way to be like the Ghostbusters, but he had empathy for this ghost too.

Will decided to visit the house again. Alone this time. As he got to the police tape, he ducked under and went to the backyard, where the cat sat by the back door.

“I just want to tell you, thank you for getting me and my friends out of there. Is… Is there something I can do? To help you I mean.” The cat bent down and picked something off of the ground and pranced over to him. Her fur was white once, but the dirt had made it a dusty blonde color. She rubbed against his leg and dropped something at his feet. He went to pet her but she scamped off into the ivy at the edge of the property. He looked down at the trinket, it was a small silver charm bracelet. There was a heart that read, “Emmy & Eudora.”

He whispered to the cat, “I’ll take it to her. I promise.” And he did.

Will’s mother was right about doors. He had a scent on him now, that things beyond would not be able to ignore. It would make him a target. But there is also something to be said for helping a lost soul and of promises fulfilled.

When the nightmare came for Will that November, he was able to hide as no one else could. They shielded him for as long as they were able to. A kindness repaid.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #the party #they were babies #ghost story #will-centric #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #junigatsu84

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blazewatergem · 2 years

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Lowborn Seven(In Order of Age)

Pride - (Stock Companies/Helps Manages the others work)

Pride’s main colors are white and gold. She’s never seen without a perfect suit or dress, often in the most recent fashion she can get her hands on. She is meticulous about her appearance, hair uniform, makeup on point, and a never changing look of a gold watch around her wrist with a Diamond necklace to match. The only thing that she changes in her outfit is her shoes, which always has to have a one inch higher heel than Lust’s. Her horns are the standard demon horn sort, chains of white-gold wrapped around them like braids.

Her personality is of a perfectionist, and she is stubborn about that. She sticks to a schedule, will not deviate from it, and if she did - don’t bring it up. That’s someone else’s fault, not hers. Obviously she had to accommodate another’s problems and had nothing to do with her. Towards her family, Pride feels both great joy and mild aggravation. She doesn’t get how some of them can be so calm, or unwilling to strive towards perfection. Her version, anyway. She feels joy though, in that she truly does love them. She’s just extremely bad at saying so.

Wrath - (No Official Industry, traveling always)

Wrath’s main colors are bright red and deep orange. She doesn’t care that much about what she’s wearing, but can typically be spotted in a casual outfit of a leather jacket, plain shirt, jeans, and combat boots. By the end of the night, they’ll be ripped up and stained. Her horns are snapped off, jagged and burned, and she likes them that way.

Personality wise, Wrath is brash, bold, and screaming for more. She indulges to the extreme in not just her own sin of bar fights and riots, but in her sisters’ sins as well. She’s highly supportive, if a bit aggressive in it to the point of hostility. Violence is the highest art form in her eyes, and where most see a fight she sees a dance. There’s beauty in pain, and she - a beholder.

Gluttony - (Chefs/Restaurants/Bakers)

Gluttony’s main colors are beige and cream, enjoying neutral tones. Gluttony is one of the sisters who changes her outfit frequently, often to match whatever she’s doing at the time or wherever she’s visiting. She’s more picky about accessories, classically enjoying food-themed jewelry and bags. Her favorite is a purse that looks like a jar of jam. Often, if she’s been baking, there’s flour on her nose. Her horns are small, and are dull at the end, looking like a cute ram.

Personality wise, Gluttony is bubbly, giggly, and cruel. Like the false southern belle of drama tv, she’ll titter and laugh all while ripping someone apart. This side of her is saved for those who push her too far, which honestly is a lot of the time. She plays nice enough with her family and those they care about, but it’s a literal hell for anyone else the minute her patience runs out. Brutality with a caring smile, she’s actually the sister with the most soulbound humans - Envy and Greed just at her heels.

Lust - (Strip clubs/Brothels/Travel Agencies)

Lust’s main colors are dark pink and black, wearing both in spades as both a human and demon. She generally goes for looser clothing, but she’ll dress up for “work events”. Her standard outfit is an off the shoulders shirt, long thin skirt, and leather boots. Her “dress up” is a corset in her colors, a short frilly matching skirt, fingerless black gloves and those same boots. On days she’s feeling down, she’ll wear a crown around the office. For her horns, she has two sets in a more goat-like appearance, one set curls around her head and the other outward at the sides. She’s managed to pierce them, so there’s jewelry and chains there.

Personality wise, Lust tends to be overly-affectionate and open to talking about anything. She has a lot of interests, and - as you can guess - feels no shame in any line of questioning. She loves love, in any form, and enjoys being the shoulder to cry on. She’s got a habit of putting others before herself, which unfortunately has tanked her self-esteem in some regards, but when standing up for others has some…ferocious ways to defend boundaries. She takes care of the humans in her work with a motherly sort of protectiveness, and is considered one of the better siblings to work for among other demons.

Greed - (Casinos/Gambling in General)

Greed’s main colors are green and copper. She’s the only Sister to share these colors with her twin Envy. Greed has a…interesting appearance, even more inhuman than her siblings. She looks like someone through a black and white filter, the only color on her being her bright green eyes and outfit, a flapper’s dress accented with copper beads. Her horns are three sets along the sides of her head in a bug-like fashion, pointed upwards.

Personality wise, Greed is a bit of a show off. She wants the attention, the spotlight, to the point of even willingly humiliating herself. She doesn’t care if she’s the best or the worst, as long as people are talking about her. She’ll put this aside for her siblings, especially her twin, and uses her resources to help them however she can. This isn’t exactly a selfless endeavor however, as she loves the feeling of being one of the youngest but being able to provide.

Envy - (Fashion Industry/Jewelry, occasionally joins Greed)

Envy’s main colors are green and copper. She’s the only Sister to share these colors with her twin Greed. Envy actually has the same look as her twin, except in the reverse, like a living shadow. Her copper eyes seem to glow in the dark, hungry and wanting everything, and the green beads along her flapper dress stay quiet even when she moves. Her horns, unlike her twin’s, are pointing downwards.

Personality wise, Envy can be a shy and gentle sort. She would rather people pay attention to her twin than herself, and follows along with most of Greed’s plots willingly. The few times she takes her lead role, she makes a mess out of it all. Pulling the strings of those around her to put those she loves on the pedestal, and feasting on the resentment and envy around her.

Sloth - (Hotels/Vacation Spots)

Sloth’s main colors are purple and blue. She can often be seen wearing baggy shirts and sweatpants, or if in a comfortable environment a nightgown in her colors. Her hair is pretty consistently mused up, an effect from her often trying to take naps, and has shadows under her eyes. Out of all the Lowborn Seven, Sloth actually has the look of a teenager. It’s suggested this is due to her own sleep deprivation, as she is as old as any other demon could be - as in, centuries old. She also has no horns, another symptom.

Personality wise, Sloth is a hot mess of irritable, emotional, and apathetic. She does her best to be as unflappable as possible, but there’s only so much she can handle some days. When her sanity finally runs out, and sleep isn’t coming her way, she ends up being the most aggressive Sister, even giving Wrath a run for her money! After the show that’s that, she’ll end up super upset and crying, only to end up right back into the calmness from before, and the cycle repeats again. She hates being this way, and has tried to fix it, but without the sleep she needs - for her physical and mental health - she’s not getting free anytime soon.

Demon Ranking

Lowborn Seven - The Seven Sisters, only.

Archdemon - Archdemons answer to the Sisters only, and even then their specific Sister takes priority, they act as personal guards or assistants.

Demon - A standard demon, might belong to one Sister’s sin or more, has a little more wiggle room than the Archdemons.

Imp - More like wayward souls than actual demonic entities, brute work mostly or message passing.

Soulbound - Humans who’ve made deals with demons, now in service to them. Only way to break the bond is to go back on the deal, losing what they gained.

Main Challenges

Lust’s Crisis

Lust is having an identity crisis, where she doesn’t just want to be lust anymore. Not sexually at least. She wants to be passion, caring, to be the feelings one gets to travel or adventure. She feels like she can be so much more, even though she enjoys being just sexual lust as well. It’s causing a major problem in her life, as it’s effecting her own view of herself and her mental health.

Pride’s Control

Pride is holding the reigns far too tightly. She thinks things need to stay the way they are now, that they’re perfect the way they are now, and nothing should change. Obviously, with what Lust is going through, this is gonna cause sparks.

Sloth’s Insomnia

Literal, Sloth is constantly between a state of insomnia and oversleeping depending on her biology. Most demons don’t need sleep, maybe an hour or two, but as the Sin of Sloth, she actually needs more - much more. This effects her mood, her health, and her temperament. Very bothersome.

Lucifer’s Reluctance

The Lucifer of the Sevens world is like Lucifer on Netflix - running a bar and not involved with Hell at all. He left, and is having fun in the human world. By doing this, he is reluctant to even get involved in any of the sisters’ issues and it’s making him a…not good ally, or a good father for that matter. He doesn’t want to return, but he just might have to when Lust goes missing.

#talking fire #the Lowborn Seven #my demonic sin sisters here in the flesh!!#so happy I got this all wrote out :’D now I can actually work on the fanfic lmao

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