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#and here's part three!
direwombat · 1 year
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and gift [3/3] for @cullxtheherd for the far cry 5 gift exchange! I hope you enjoy these moodboards and i hope you’re having a merry holiday season!
jacob seed + the project at eden’s gate
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starwarjotta · 3 months
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looking for someone on Tatooine
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sp0o0kylights · 4 months
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Part One
Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.
More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table. 
The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent. 
It smelled mockingly delicious. 
Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.
Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it. 
Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he? 
That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean. 
“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.
Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead. 
“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.” 
God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.
“Dustin what did I just say--” 
Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.
There was no cowering. 
No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.
Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.
No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies. 
“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him. 
It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway. 
Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up. 
Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation. 
Eddie’s eye twitched.
Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted. 
“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!” 
(And he did say ‘Steve.’ 
Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.
Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.
Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.) 
Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies. 
He hated how good they looked.
“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work.  “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.” 
He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes. 
Eddie hated how good he looked too. 
‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’ 
“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl. 
Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet. 
Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over. 
(Their characters were dead too.) 
“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.” 
Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.
"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.
“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”
Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!” 
Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table. 
With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings. 
Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales. 
Jeff sent him a look.
The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems. 
He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy. 
“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”
Eddie pretended to gag.  
Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos. 
Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman; 
“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!” 
For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them. 
Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.
Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them. 
“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!” 
“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly. 
“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process. 
The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front. 
(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP.  ) 
“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.
Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.” 
Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately. 
“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper. 
Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do. 
(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)
Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.
(He told it to knock it off.
It didn’t listen.) 
No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked. 
Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.
The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.
Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit. 
Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.” 
Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible. 
Get him to help Harrington. 
“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!” 
Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly. 
“I’m supervising.” 
Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it. 
“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.” 
Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour. 
xXx 
Harrington was matching him tit for tat.
Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.
A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.
What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington? 
But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.
(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)
Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?
Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school? 
Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!) 
Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making. 
‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’ 
‘Are you doing someone a favor?’ 
‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’
The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.
Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though. 
There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses. 
Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.
This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew. 
To defend his table, his club, his friends. 
Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then. 
“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood. 
Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)
“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”  
“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.
“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.” 
Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear. 
Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting; 
“How delightful. I--” 
“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?” 
“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again. 
“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!? 
Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.
“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?” 
Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror. 
“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"
The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with. 
He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return. 
“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?” 
Eddie gaped. 
“I cannot believe you right now--”
Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.
 “You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.
Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.” 
Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.
With the enemy. 
“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.) 
Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.” 
“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.
“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder. 
“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.” 
Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here. 
Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys. 
In Eddie’s fucking place. 
He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.  
Cartoon X’s for eyes and all. 
xXx
Trouble didn't hit the table.
It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.
Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.
Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.
(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.
He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.
With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.” 
Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.
Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it. 
Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.
It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.
Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.
The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?
Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice. 
Sonovabitch. 
“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.
He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone. 
And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?
To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even? 
That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?
Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.
Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.
How long had he been like this? 
Been a douchebag asshole? 
Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?
Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?
Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.
Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier. 
Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.
Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)
--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.
Because she and Steve were friends.
Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.
Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.
Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.
Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.
Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault. 
He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.
He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.
“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall. 
(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)
“She gave me her number!”
That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words. 
Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway. 
Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!” 
“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?” 
“...I’m not following.” 
“Like in a friend way. Not a--”
“Romantic way?”
Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly.  So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway. 
“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth. 
“Not so loud, Steve!” 
“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?” 
“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--” 
“Robs, breathe.” 
“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath. 
 It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear. 
In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!” 
“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"  
And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-
And-and-and--
Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots. 
It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.) 
Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out. 
You know, in a gay way. 
Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of. 
Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground. 
Eddie’s head exploded. 
Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely. 
Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.
(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)
Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.
Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.
“Steve! Steve we have a problem!” 
“I’m busy Dustin--”
“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!” 
“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?” 
Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.
“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?” 
“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high. 
He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.
Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.
He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.
“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"
"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.
After he saved Hellfire. 
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emo-batboy · 6 months
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A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)
Part 43 (Masterlist)
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(Part 44)
Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.
Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—
@bruciemilf guess who’s back
Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)
I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.
Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL
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skellagirl · 3 months
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Gordon/Barney/Alyx is really really funny to me conceptually bc it's like, two hot geniuses in their 20s who look at the 40-something smartass who hangs around and go 'yeah that guy. we both want him carnally'
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evanzbuck · 4 months
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RAFAEL SILVA appreciation series: ↳ working out pt. 2 (for @nelsonnicholas @pragmatic-optimist @sunshinestrand)
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familyvideostevie · 4 months
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just and just as | a joel miller x reader jackson au series
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joel miller x reader
a collection of stories set in the same post-part i, non part ii-compliant jackson alternate universe. general themes: domesticity, softness, love and laughter.
please heed the warnings on each individual fic. written as game!joel but feel free to picture hbo!joel if you'd like!
__
come care about me: a quiet evening at your house in Jackson with the man you call home | joel miller x reader, implied but unspecified age gap, domesticity, jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip [2.2k]
watching you with wonder: joel claims to have heard something interesting. too bad he keeps insisting he needs more information before he can tell you | domesticity, post-part i jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip but good thing you are too, a fair amount of kissing, fluff, softness, peace and all that good stuff [5.4k]
steel drum weight of me: joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni | joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? [3.2k]
you have me, you have me only: joel miller x fem!reader | you get (minorly) injured on patrol. joel does his best to patch you up and not worry too much. | jackson!joel, hurt/comfort, wound-patching, some blood, a jesse cameo, joel being joel, all that good stuff. |4.2k]
time you will not spend alone: romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. | 18+ mdni jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf [5.7k]
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afewproblems · 4 months
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Christmas Party Wish Part One
After The Christmas party, Steve manages to avoid everyone for all of two days before Robin shows up at his front door, ready to knock it down.
He crosses from the kitchen and into the foyer just as Robin starts yelling.
"Steven Marie Harrington, you open up this door or so help me--"
Steve rolls his eyes, pulling the door inward quickly enough that Robin loses her balance and nearly topples onto the inside floor mat. If not for Steve's quick reflexes she would be face down in a heap, he tells her as much with a sly grin as he helps her to stand.
"And whose fault would that be? Nice way to treat the person who is here to help you out Dingus," Robin huffs, brushing off imaginary dust from her shoulders while Steve moves aside to let her in.
"Merry Christmas to you too Rob," Steve says tugging her towards himself. He sighs as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck, content until she blows a long wet raspberry into his check. Steve drops her with a yelp and wipes away the wet mark she left behind with grinning lips.
"That was for ignoring my call," she says with narrowed eyes, "you were supposed to come for supper on Christmas day remember?"
She shrugs off her blue parka before lifting each foot to pull off her snowy boots, Steve takes the coat and tosses it over the back of the closest chair and crosses his arms over his chest.
"I know," he manages after a beat, sighing as Robin scoffs. She turns on her heel and wanders into the kitchen, leaving Steve to trail after her.
"I can only assume it's because you had other plans, you can't have possibly ignored my call for some other reason, hmm?"
Steve lifts his head to stare at the ceiling and count to five.
The thing that Steve both loves and hates about his best friend is her ability to read him through and through and call him on his shit. He'd hoped to have at least a little more time to wallow in self pity though.
"You've been wallowing for two days Steve, and I know it sucks," she chews her lip for a moment before sighing, "I'm sorry about the wish game, I feel like it's my fault".
Steve shakes his head and moves to the fridge. He opens it and reaches inside for two cans of cola before turning and using his foot to nudge the door closed again. He stacks the cans, holding them both with one hand and he moves to the pantry, grabbing an old open tube of Pringles, before making his way back to the kitchen island.
"Nah," he says eventually, "it wasn't your fault, if anything it proved why I was right not to say anything".
Steve places Robin's cola and the chips on the counter beside him and cracks the tab on his can with one hand as he leans heavily against the edge. He takes a long swig from the can, pounding his chest as he finishes to release a long burp.
Robin grimaces and swats at Steve's bicep as she grabs her own can and hops up onto the counter next to Steve.
"Dis-GUST-ing," she enunciates, wrinkling her nose, "and it doesn't prove anything Steve, of course Eddie would wish for his band to succeed, he doesn't even know you're on the table".
"And besides," Robin continues, gesturing to Steve with the can, "Nancy and Jonathan don't know that I'm a friend of Dorothy and we've known each other for over a year now. You've known them for three years and haven't said anything either, Dingus, so why would Eddie feel comfortable sharing something like that in front of everyone?"
And, huh, well what Robin says does make a lot more sense than the rambling depressing thoughts that he's been playing on repeat since their movie night.
He and Eddie have gotten a lot closer since they escaped from the Upside Down for the last time. Since Steve managed to carry him out of hell and got them to the hospital in time.
And Steve has been trying so hard for months not to expose himself, to show the most vulnerable parts of his heart to someone that could stomp on it as easily as Nancy did.
But Robin has a point.
On the one hand Steve has been protecting himself, and on the other he's also made sure that there would never be a possibility of--
Steve shakes his head, "first of all, I only just figured all of this, Bi-Sectional stuff, out Robin--"
"Bisexual," she sighs as Steve keeps talking.
"Whatever, and second, we have no idea if Eddie swings that way either…I just don't want to take the risk and end up fucking it all up".
Robin stares at him, an unhappy frown marring her normally sweet features. It feels too much like she's evaluating the inside of his mind --though she did always have the uncanny talent of knowing exactly what he was thinking.
"And what would you say if I told you I had a plan?" Robin says slowly, her gaze unwavering still.
Steve meets her eyes for a moment, taking in the smirk and the raised eyebrow. There's a challenge in her expression and Steve knows there's nothing for it but to listen to what she has to say.
"I'm going to regret letting you in today aren't I?" Steve says as he lifts his can towards her own.
Robin answers with a wide grin and knocks her can into his with a metallic click.
"Don't you always? Anyways," she clears her throat and looks at him with a mischievous smirk, lifting her hands into the air and wiggling her fingers, "I'm thinking, are you ready? New Year's Eve!"
"No--"
"New Year's Eve Steve, come on!" She insists as Steve grazes on a stack of chips from the Pringles tube.
"All we need to do is invite everyone over, Eddie included, to Casa Harrington for a little New Years Party," Robin continues, ignoring the eye roll Steve sends her way, "with enough liquid courage you'd have another opportunity to actually talk to Eddie, confess your feelings, and Boom! Maybe even get a midnight kiss out of the whole thing!"
Steve stares at her wide eyes and wider grin, forcing himself to keep his expression blank.
"So, just to be clear," Steve says eventually, around a mouthful of chips. Robin exaggeratedly gags and snatches her own stack from the tube.
"Your plan is for me to host another party and talk to him".
"Well, yeah--"
"...Robin, that's not a plan, that's a repeat of what already happened," Steve groans as he puts down the chips and runs his hands over his face until they've tangled into his hair.
"No, no, nuh uh, because you didn't say jack shit to him all night," she huffs, gently pulling his hands down, "the crucial difference my sweet bozo, is that you are actually going to tell him how you feel this time".
"How am I supposed to do that with my ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend, and everyone else here smart ass," he counters, letting her continue to hold his hands in her own smaller ones.
She rolls her eyes but squeezes his fingers as she continues, "it will be easy to get him alone, come on, you could tell him you want to give him his Christmas present in your room, you could ask him to go for a smoke outside, you could show him the basement stereo and your ridiculous music collection, must I go on while you don't write this down?"
With every suggestion Steve feels a surge of warm affection for his friend and allows for a fond grin to replace the skeptical frown on his face.
"Do I have to do all of those or should I pick one?" Steve asks, lifting his now free hands to protect his face as Robin whips her own at his chest and head.
"How you were ever considered a ladies man, I will never know," Robin says, though the words are rather undercut by a laugh that turns into a giggle as she finds a particularly ticklish rib and begins her assault.
"You are a fucking menace birdie," Steve manages to say as he catches the offending hands and steps away from the counter and his friends attack.
"You love it," she scoffs, stealing another chip and crunching it loudly as though to make her point.
And he does, Steve thinks to himself.
They have five days to figure out the final details, and Steve can't help but move back to the counter to swing an arm around her shoulders.
Because when in doubt, he can always count on Robin.
"Okay, New Years it is".
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kroosluvr · 5 days
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spare bento [ part 1 / you are here! / part 3 ]
"kasumi was always so insistent about that. ...and, thinking about it now, i guess she was right all along."
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seaquestions · 2 months
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yeah... i've been going up baldy... (ids in alt)
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nafohcnis · 1 month
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Oh what a day !!!
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lovesickeros · 5 months
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
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iamhereinthebg · 2 months
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Let's talk about the clock keepers in the new chapter!!
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It's not a surprise to see that they had more in their sleeves, putting up an act to get all the information they wanted. Kako said it after all, he is the one observing. And he will gather what he needs before making a move, showing he deserves his title as the oldest supernatural. Hanako being the leader doesn’t seem to matter a lot to him in the end. He clearly has had his plan for a long time. It's not a shock to see he recognizes what came back with Tsukasa from the red house, probably knowing the entity from before.
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Even if it was an act and all of them knew what the end result would be. The reactions Akane and Mirai had for each other in the last chapter were real. Akane was never shield in the manga, being the one doing it most of the time. So his reaction towards Mirai taking the blow for him is absolutely genuine, especially when he tried so hard to make her run away. And we can see it again when we see how slowly he takes her out of the water to give her back to Kako. Akane even reprimands the old man about being slow and Mirai having to go through this at first. 
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This chapter highlights the clock keepers relationship too. Akane has been before in the innermost reach, he clearly knows what he is doing here, entering the house like nothing and actually setting things up for tea knowing Kako would like it. Being considered as a whole clock keeper, Kako and Mirai trust him not to do anything bad even in their most vulnerable state.
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Kako watches over Mirai like a worried father, being happy when she is back and is still pushing Akane to find the answers himself, always in a teaching position. Akane is quick to scold Mirai about her actions, clearly seeing her more as a kid than a real supernatural being. He is seen worried for her and tells her right away not to do something like this ever again. On her side, Mirai is overjoyed to see Akane, the first question coming out of her mouth asking if he is hurt, and she seems rather shocked to see him being so worried about her, jumping on his head right away to praise him for being a nice boy.
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They are way more genuine in their physical contact and actions. Akane is not refusing Kako’s headpat even though he has an angry/solemn expression when accepting it, the old man is smiling at Mirai and Akane the whole chapter while Mirai is being her usual clingy self. 
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Kako clearly has been observing things and waited until the right moment to take actions. They are coming back in time to fix things up, and will sleep until the new present is stable. And for this they trust the clock keeper of the present to take care of the duty that was placed upon him.  
Akane is a wonderful pick for the present. His personality and way of life has always shown he was the only character who would be able to handle this role. He is a duty centered and really proactive boy, and most of all, sees how life is worth living. Even if he never feared the idea of getting hurt, we can clearly see how much he takes his role at heart. He now knows he has to live if the idea of a better present can exist. 
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Kako knows Akane is able to handle all of it which is why they can leave without being worried about the new present, they absolutely believe Akane will be able to fulfill his duty. In the end, it’s Akane who keeps the yorishiro with him.  They trust him to make sure everything is in order and not die until he can use the key to get them out of the clock once they awaken. Kako’s last word to Akane is once again one with a teaching tone, praising him for a job he will do, showing he thinks he will handle it. 
One of Kako’s strongest traits is observation too. And Akane is really good at that, he is one of the most observant and perceptive characters of the whole cast. His mission will be all about seeing if the events really changed, acting like a memory of a present which doesn’t exist anymore. Having a human among the clock keepers to have eyes in the human world seems also like a logical choice. To know the whole situation Kako needs eyes in the human realm too, and Akane shares his informations with him when he think it's important.
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Akane has known his role for a long time. Once he heard that he had his duty to do, his expression is hard to see because he KNOWS what the implications are. He is aware of what it means, he isn’t happy with this, he clenches the yorishiro once he has it, he says he doesn’t have a choice to Teru. Because even if Akane complains, he does things he is asked to do.
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 Akane’s sense of justice has always been a big part of his character, and it’s also a big part of the clock keepers. Of course he wants the present to be better and goes with the clock keepers’ idea, erasing a problem at its root to help the majority of people and protect the persons he cares for is something Akane would never refuse.
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He has no problem doing it even if he doesn’t want to be on the clock keepers’ side, because he knows he can do something ‘right’. He still trusts Kako on this one, embracing his role as the guardian of the present fully. The old man did say it would be good for humans after all.
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How long has Akane been thinking about changing the present? Even if it means erasing the severance I don’t know how he would react seeing that Aoi never lived it. Having a world where she never got to know supernaturals, never was left dead all alone on the far shore and never got her hand hurt. It can’t be so bad right? 
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But the more I think about it the more I go ‘was this present really THAT bad?’ Aoi has to go through her horrible everyday life once again, thinking that no one will ever love her for who she is and Akane definitely doesn't want that.
His talk to Teru also implies that Teru and Nene may remember since they were stopped by his time power. He trusts Teru to understand what is happening and help him with this new reality or hoping not everything will have changed. 
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If we focus quickly on Amane and Tsuchigomori. They seem to have go back in 1968 so Amane was a middle schooler. Tsuchigomori and him had the talk about the moon in 1969 (after the 20th of July) so Tsuchi may not have the same yorishiro either. Would Amane live this time? Not sure, the reason he was trying to destroy the big clock may be related to the clock keepers going back in Time. I wonder what the clock Amane was working on really represents.
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We can see this clock indicating the hour exactly like when Akane is stopping time, suggesting that it is really the one controlling the whole school time. It’s the first clock we see when the clock keepers are introduced too.
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If Kako and Mirai really go back in time and erase everything they are visualizing on this. It would indeed mean a better control over the mysteries situations and the protection of the Land.
It means everything the mysteries went through won't happen. So the second Mitsuba won't exist, n°3 would still be here, Yako would still be waiting for Misaki to come back and won't go berserk, Shijima-san would still be in her boundary thinking she has no reason to exist expect hurting Mei-chan's memory, Hakubo would still be doing his duty without feeling anything and Sumire would still be living her death over and over again, not having anyone go see her in more than a century.
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It means erasing all of the mysteries’ struggles and acceptance of what they are, not being bound by grief and regrets to do a job most of them didn't want to do. Would this present really be a good one? For the humans mostly it would be, it's the mysteries duties after all, and n°1 is ready to undo all the things each mystery went through to make sure humans have a good Present. They always have been more about humans than supernaturals. And this may also be the reason why Akane is okay with everything going on too. Kako sees this as his ultimate duty in the end, forcing all mysteries to embrace it even if they don't want to. Taking the matter at end without warning anyone since after all, no one will remember.
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Another thing that has always been interesting to me, was the fact that the clock keepers look nothing like something out of Japanese Myths/folklore. It has always been strange to me to see they were labeled as the oldest supernaturals, when clocks weren’t that common in Japan before a long time.  The way they dress look way different compared to anyone else from the cast too. The closest look you could find was from the Meiji Era, which was mostly about Japan importing a lot of Western culture into their Land. I always thought that the clock keepers just couldn’t be from a Japanese folktale and this was confirmed in the last chapter. I had my supposition about where they were from,  but having an actual image of their old town helped me to focus more on it.
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If we look at Clock making history we can easily focus on some countries, The Netherlands, Germany and England being the main ones. Now if we look at the architecture we get in this chapter, we can delete England from the list easily. This type of house is called Timbered framed houses. It can be found in Europe in different countries.
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It’s important to note that the roofs on those houses are really really sharp on the illustration AidaIro gave us. Which means they were built for snow, so it can slide off the roofs more easily. The trees in the background are too blurry to see but it looks like forest of pines and the kids shown are holding one.
Now if I combine the two ideas of clock making and architecture I found here, my thoughts came to one city. Nuremberg in Germany. It’s a city known for its clock making history, there are mountains nearby and there is snow in this region during Winter. And more importantly The Nuremberg Egg.
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It’s known as the ancestor of the pocket watch, created in the XVIth century.  
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I don’t think AidaIro was inspired by a precise place but I think somewhere in this region of Europe could be a good pick for the inspiration of the city the clock keepers are from! Same can be said about the clothes the kids are wearing and the toy's shop which have vibes from this region too.
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I’ve been thinking a bit more about what Kako and Mirai are really and it’s hard to say. With how Akane introduced them it could imply they were humans before. 
Why did they move to Japan and how did they become supernatural? Were they created or were they humans before? The idea of Kako creating a body to survive and creating Mirai is not out of the way since he is clearly the oldest and more experienced supernatural there is. A lot of questions with no answers for now but I am happy we get some glimpse of their old life.
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I am also interested in the clock keeper of the present status too. Are they used to create different presents or if the present is fixed their role is finished? Did Kako and Mirai go back in time to change stuff before?
I don't think it happened recently. Nothing special has been happening at Kamome even with the whole Yugi suicide/murder history. The real problems started really once Nene met Hanako and Tsukasa woke up. Kako may have been observing things since a really long time, maybe putting some students as clock keepers of the present but never ‘activating’ their real role. Which may also be why Akane never was shown that stressed out about his role as a clock keeper, why would he be if all the previous clock keepers of the present never had to do this? What is supposed to happen to them once they have fulfilled their duty? Are they erased from the timeline to represent completely this new Present? Do they get to continue their life like nothing happens, being the only person having the memories of a world which doesn't exist anymore? How long do they stay alone until the other two wake up? Why insist so much on the idea he has to stay alive? So many questions I hope we will have answers on soon.
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The story of the clock keepers is still really blurry but we are slowly getting more on them . AidaIro really showed us that they were mysteries the other characters shouldn't mess with and I am all for it.
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toasteaa · 3 months
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Constant thought in my brain recently: being chosen by the Hydro Sovereign as a sacrifice (or really, the base on which he'll judge humanity for this era) after you willingly took the blame and punishment of another person. You're told not to look at the Sovereign or lift your veil before reaching his domain, being guided only by clawed hands as cold and dangerous as the ocean depths and a voice as powerful as crashing waves.
The shock that goes through you when you see the Sovereign's lands in their entirety; bright, blooming with life...a far shot away from the dismal, rocky shores you've long heard were uninhabitable.
The Sovereign giving you free reign of his residence - except for his own chambers - and leaving you to your own devices whilst he returns to the waves lapping against the gleaming shores. To hunt? To govern? You don't know - the Sovereign has yet to utter more words than necessary and you're still too frightened to delve into the questions he's refused to answer.
Your only solace is the Sovereign's sole retainer - Neuvillette was his name, though he seemed to have trouble recalling it at first. He's the closest thing to human here, though you have your reservations. He answers some of your questions and elegantly redirects the ones he doesn't wish to answer; you can't really find it in yourself to complain. Especially when you know that this hospitality might be the last kindness you get before the Sovereign returns to claim his sacrifice.
Though, perhaps, the Sovereign will prove merciful and allow you to remain here with Neuvillette. At least for a little bit longer.
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iero · 1 year
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It was an uphill battle but they didn't know, but they didn't know, we were gonna use the roads as a ramp to take off
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turtledotjpeg · 2 years
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when ur squad is size small-medium-large
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